Blesser, one of the few words that I knew.Hurt, it meant.
“The dogs won’t hurt your cat,” I said, hoping that I’d pieced together her concerns. “I won’t allow them to. They grew up with a cat. Friendlies to the opposite species.”
Which was the truth. Both Ruby and Max had known our cat and never bothered to mess with her. As with human life, her candle had burned out. Scarlett refused to adopt another, so heartbroken over the kitten Marzio had once given her as a gift. Losing her felt like losing him again.
I gave Silvio the go-ahead, and he put his hand on Cerise’s back, directing her through the woodlot. His voice came out reassuring, but I didn’t miss the backward glance he shot at me through the half-lit darkness. The battery-powered light faded fast, leaving me alone in the hollows of shadows. My comfortable space.
Slate-colored smoke purled out of my mouth. I heard voices coming from the door and turned. Scarlett, causing a fuss, demanding to know where I was.
Sighing, another gust of smoke filling the air, I began the short walk back to our house. There was no use in collecting the dogs and sending them out into the frigid night to find a scent.
Cerise had no cat.
12
Brando
Scarlett had been keeping an eye on Cerise after the ghostchatincident, but it seemed to me that Cerise didn’t appreciate the extra attention. For some reason, Scarlett made her nervous.
It was no secret that Cerise still grieved for Livio. Dimitri knew. He’d married her knowing that her love for him would never be whole—the exact situation she had with Livio.
Livio couldn’t love Cerise fully, and in return, Cerise could not love Dimitri fully. A vicious circle that seemed never ending.
Even though Scarlett felt Cerise’s hesitation toward her, she still tried. Whether from the need to help her heal, or the need for something else—to feel her out more—not even Scarlett could pin down her own motives.
Scarlett had made plans with Cerise to go shopping after her classes at the studio. Juliette agreed to go, along with Eva and Violet.
I’d decided to use the free time to meet a man interested in having me fund his diving expedition. An old captain friend of mine set up the meeting. A long lunch with him had me thinking about my own diving days—and I knew sooner or later I’d be back in the water. Even if it was to be called out for search and rescue, or to retrieve what couldn’t be salvaged.
I was one of the best at what I did. Severe weather and circumstances couldn’t deter me. Scarlett had a sixth sense above water; mine thrived below the surface.
There was no telling how she’d take the news, though, and with all that had been going on, I decided to wait until after the holidays to discuss it with her. Then there was Nemours. The sooner his demise, the better. If he existed in the world, the weight pressing against my chest refused to abate.
What I did took concentration. I doubted my mind could concentrate knowing that I was locked down and not able to get to Scarlett and our family if something were to happen.
Glancing at the clock on the dash, I decided to take a detour home, to change my clothes before meeting Scarlett and the kids at the studio. Mia had dance practice after school.
Ever since Cerise’s night visit, I had been more alert, almost paranoid. Something about her visit rubbed me the wrong way, and it wasn’t only the cat that didn’t exist. It was her eyes, how possessed they had been with a ghost.
The woodlot next to our house was all clear.
This fact was proven when I opened the door and Ruby and Max flew out. First to greet me and then to attend to some business in the yard.
Instead of quiet greeting me after I stepped into our house, noises came from the inside.
Breathless moans grew louder, louder, louder, until Max’s ears flicked backwards. He must have been subjected to this for a while and didn’t appreciate it. Especially if he couldn’t get into the room to investigate. The noises were boxed in, the door shut to the room, but still echoing.
If the dogs were not going berserk, or dead by then, that meant one thing—whoever was having sex in our guest room was no stranger.
For one insane moment, I didn’t feel like I was in my body. Images of my wife naked, tangled in the sheets with another man—sanity had the good sense to flood out the lies. I knew the sounds Scarlett made, could hear them even if my auditory perception would fade, and whoever the woman was, she was not my wife.
The man wasn’t one of the guards either. I had sent them off for the day, most of them with Scarlett, the others with the kids at school, and a few had the day off. We did this on purpose, to see if Nemours would attempt to get close to the house—it was under surveillance.
It could be a trap. The gun I kept in my suit felt solid in my hand, as did the knife at my ankle.
Closer, and Ruby sat next to me and watched the door handle, ready for me to turn it. Max whined and pawed at the door, wanting to get in, his tail wagging.
A strangled noise met me before, “BranPow!”
