Page 105 of No Longer Mine

“You need to rest.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s been barely half a day.”

I ignored her and looked at Don. “Has she eaten anything?”

“Don made me a salad with blackened chicken,” she quipped.

I mocked being offended with my hand over my chest. “You’ve never cooked for me before, Don. I’m offended.”

“She’s smarter than you, so therefore she gets to experience my cooking abilities.”

A look passed over Scarlett’s face, and I wondered what it meant. What had they discussed while I was away? What had they bonded over besides chess? Had they trauma-dumped?

“Alright, Don, I think I can take it from here.”

Don stood from the couch. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning. You’d better continue to sharpen your skills.” He winked at her, and I felt something tug within my chest. She grinned up at him, as he was her lifeline and I really, really wanted to know what they’d talked about. She didn’t look up at me like that. Would she ever?

“Aye, aye, captain.” She saluted him, and there was that tugging in my chest again. I rubbed my sternum thinking it would help, but it only seemed to make it worse. Don grabbed his newspaper off of the table and disappeared out the front door.

“My brother found a wig you left in the stairwell trashcan at the neighboring apartment building.”

She let out a breath. “Did he get rid of it?”

I nodded. “You’re lucky he’s on our side right now.”

“Right now?” She asked.

“Long story.”

She nodded, and we sat there, staring at each other until she broke the silence. “What do you know about Vanewood?”

Surprise flickered through me at the question. I’d expected her to bolt, to run any time the place was mentioned, but here she was asking head-on with no hesitation. She swallowed and looked down at her lap. She was still wearing a sweatshirt andshorts I’d helped dress her in that morning before Don got here. “What do you know about me?”

“Are you sure you’re ready to have this conversation?” I leaned forward and braced my elbows on my knees as I watched her.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and worried her lip between her teeth. “No, I’m never ready to have this conversation, but no one has ever gotten as close to the truth as you have, and I need to know what you know about… me.”

What I really wanted to know was what was going on with the flash drives and the notebook I’d put in her library. She hadn’t even asked about them. But that would come later.

“I didn’t know anything besides the mysterious death of the owners and that you attended there. I didn’t even know that until I found the picture.”

Scarlett let out a slow breath, like she was bracing herself for something. Her fingers traced over the edge of the blanket draped across her lap, eyes flickering toward the chessboard as if gathering her thoughts.

“I know what they said about Vanewood,” I continued. “That it was an elite home for gifted orphans, the best of the best. But when I went there, the place was a goddamn graveyard. I don’t know what he was doing there, and I don’t know why, but I do know that they hurt you. If they were still alive today, I would go murder them myself. I would torture them. I would cut off every single appendage and make them beg for mercy, but I would never give it. ”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

I let the words settle, watching the way her fingers tightened around the blanket. Her eyes—normally so sharp and calculating—looked distant. Haunted.

My stomach twisted as I thought of the gouges taken out of the bed frame and the words she’d said to me in anger after our date.

“I killed them.” Her words were barely a whisper, if I hadn’t been waiting for them, I would have missed it altogether.

The air in the room shifted. Heavy. Charged. I stared at her, my pulse thudding in my ears. “You?—”

I’d spilled my fair share of blood, I’d killed and tortured for my father since I was young. A teenager. He saw a skill and exploited it. Scarlett? She was nothing but an innocent girl who should have never been put in the position to have to do that.

“Yes,” her voice was steadier now. “It haunts me. They haunt me. I thought they were long gone in my past, but sometimes their ghosts sneak up on me. Are you going to arrest me? Is this a part of your overturned crusader leaf? Is this a part of your campaign, solving cold cases?”