Or walk out of here free.
“Ow!” Jackson cries, twisting as he tries to get out of her arms. She adjusts him against her, gripping his arms so tight his skin is turning red.
“For God’s sake, you’re hurting him!” I yell. That’s it. I’m getting Jackson back. But before I can make a move, Daisy puts Jackson down, takes a death grip on his wrist, and pulls a can of pepper spray from her purse, pointing it at me.
“Jackson, it’s okay,” I say, swallowing hard. She’s really come unhinged. Or desperate. I don’t know which is worse right now.
“You can’t keep him away from me.”
“Daisy.” I hold up my hands, heart racing. Pepper spray is far from lethal, but I don’t want Jackson to go through the pain of getting it in his eyes or inhaling it. “We can work something out. Just let Jackson go.”
Jackson starts struggling again, crying and calling for me. “It’s okay,” I tell him again. “Daisy, think about this. Is this how you want to start a relationship with your son?”
Daisy’s face goes slack and she looks down, realizing what she’s doing. She lets go of Jackson and he runs to me, crying. Having him in my arms again is the best feeling. I scoop him up, never wanting to let go.
Daisy starts crying, and Owen rushes over. I hand him Jackson, heart aching a bit not to have him in my arms. I rush forward and take the pepper spray from Daisy.
“Don’t do this to me,” Daisy says, looking up.
“I’m not. You did this to yourself.” I inhale and hear sirens in the distance. Thank fucking goodness. I didn’t want to be the one to make Daisy’s official arrest.39ScarletI sit up, eyes waking up before my mind. I’m uncomfortable with stiff legs and an aching back, and for a split second, I think I fell asleep sitting up on the couch. Then I blink and realize my eyes are still sore and swollen from crying.
Yes, crying.
The room is dark, and I sit up, stretching my arms over my head. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the stiff armchair next to my father’s bed at the nursing home. After leaving Weston’s house, I walked into town, took Eastwood’s only taxi to Newport and was able to get an Uber to drive me up to Chicago.
I didn’t know where else to go other than the nursing home. Dad was having a bad day, and just sat in his chair not really paying attention to anything. So, for the first time in my entire life, I spilled my guts. Said everything I ever wanted to say. Confessed the bad things I’ve done as well as admit just how deep my love for Weston goes.
And Dad just sat there, staring blankly in my general direction. A little empathy would have been nice, and advice on how not to farther fuck up my life would have been welcome.
But I got nothing.
Rubbing my eyes, I get up, moving slowly in the dark. My phone is in my purse, and it’s dead.
“Dammit,” I mutter. I have no idea what time it is, and I think I left my phone charger in the kitchen at Weston’s house. I left in such a rush I wouldn’t be surprised if I left more behind. Moving slow so I don’t wake up my dad or his roommate, I go into the hall, blinking from the bright lights.
“Oh!” a nurse exclaims, surprised to see me. “I thought you left.”
“I fell asleep.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to work out a knot. “What time is it?”
“A little after two AM.”
“Shit. Sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll go.”
The nurse shakes her head. “Stay. It’s late and I know you walk back to your place. Just this one time, though, you hear?”
“Thank you.” I go to the bathroom and then back to Dad’s room. The nurse put an extra blanket on the chair for me, and I’m grateful. These rooms are fucking freezing.
“Scarlet?” Dad is sitting up in his bed.
“Dad.” I rush over, clicking on the light over his bed so he can see me. “It’s late. You should go back to sleep.”
“You listen to me,” he starts. I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with one of his flashback rants right now. “You’re a Cooper, and Coopers don’t give up.”
“What?”
“You love that boy?”
I blink, unsure if I’m hearing him correctly. “Weston. Yes. I love him a lot.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing here?”
“I…I…” I don’t know what to say. “I had to leave or else his ex-wife was going to publish an article about him that made him seem unfit to be the county sheriff. It would have ruined his chances of winning and he was so close. And besides…once he hears what I did—what I used to do—I don’t think he’ll see me the same.”