Page 33 of Shadows Within

“I think I know the answer but… are you bringing anyone?” He doesn’t miss a beat. I want to bring Scarlett, but she can’t be placed in dangers way. Although, at this point, being with me is probably her safest option.

“I’m not sure.”

Silence.

“Okay, I’ll text you later.” He hangs up.

I start the engine, ready to head home.

At the house, I can immediately tell that no one is here. I drop my keys on the marble table that sits just inside the door. It’s quiet. The furnace lightly hums and the tick of the grandfather clock in the study feels empty and sterile.

I take my jacket off and throw it on a chair by the kitchen island. I pace into the study, straight for the decanter on the desk. I pour a glass of the amber whiskey, no ice. I don’t want to dilute it. The first sip burns, but I don’t wince. The pain is familiar.

I move down the hall and into my room— the only place where I can hide from the legacy that this house represents. I lean on the window frame with my shoulder against the wood, watching the sun set and trees sway in the wind. I think of her.

I don’t know how to give love, but I’d burn for hers.

Forgotten Roses

Scarlett

It’s just after dinner and it’s already dark outside. My computer screen lights up the room. I need to finish this assignment. Although it’s not due for another week, there’s still more research to be done for my Early Developmental psychology paper.

I shift in my desk chair and hug a leg against my chest. I’m not sure why, but I find myself thinking about him, again. It feels out of character for me, but as soon as his mouth landed on mine, I wanted more. There’s something about Callum Mercer that I’m drawn to, but there’s a part of him that feels restricted and off limits.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach over and grab it.

Callum:Come outside.

I look out my window—I don’t see his car. Within a few seconds, his Jaguar creeps down the street.How did he know I was home?

Scarlett:Why?

Callum:Don’t make me ask twice.

I smirk as I read his text.

Whothe hell does he think he is telling me what to do?I should stay here just to show him he doesn’t control me, but instead I shut my laptop and go downstairs.

As I put my sneakers on, Dad sits on a lounge chair in the living room and watches TV.

“I’m headed out for a bit, Dad, don’t wait up for me.”

“Okay, honey. I love you.” He looks up from the TV. I walk over and give him a tight hug.

I grab my keys and purse—even though he’ll notice that I don’t take my car. The porch light is already on as I close the door behind me. I see him parked a few houses down and pray that he doesn’t pull up in front of mine. The last thing I need is Dad finding out. Even though I’m an adult, he still worries about me.

I walk by the hood of his car and see him reach across, opening the passenger door from the inside.

Well, isn’t that chivalrous of him.I fight a smile as I duck and slip into the seat.

“My dad would love your car.” It’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth. I feel like I owe him an explanation. “He loves fixing up older cars, but he has a sweet spot for a newer sports car.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he just looks at me, his eyes turning dark as the interior lights fade.

“Put your seat belt on.”

“Why, are we going somewhere? I thought you were just stopping by to say hi,” I say, with sarcasm. I reach and pull the belt across me.