had been established, I tiptoed to the bathroom for the usual reasons, and on my way back, glanced down, expecting to see the Gin Blossoms ticket on the floor.
Gone. Without conscious thought, a smile appeared on my face, and I headed for the sink. Water. The thought of it possessed my mind.
Standing over the sink, my intention had been to gaze out at the stars, but instead, I found myself staring out into the night. My eyes couldn’t penetrate the thickness of it.
The cool water became balm to an ache, and as I went for another, my hand stilled on the faucet. A small orb of light rushed toward me, bobbing up and down. Brando’s name was on my tongue, but my voice stuck in my throat and paralyzed me with fear. My feet were frozen to the floor, my limbs refusing to move.
The light came closer, and in the illumination of its hot flame, a girl appeared, wearing white pajamas and holding the top of the lantern. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back, the wind ruffling it. She looked as ghostly as I’m sure I did. Pale. She looked fearful, her eyes searching for…comfort in the darkness.
“Violet,” I breathed.
I went to knock on the window, but again, my hand froze. Another light came toward hers. At the sight of it, she visibly relaxed. Her light came down and her face became hidden in darkness. When he lifted his lamp, so he could see her face, I stared in shock.
No, no, no.
Mitch, not Mick, kissed her quickly, then took her hand and led her in the direction of another cabin. An unoccupied cabin.
“Scarlett.” Brando’s voice, laced with sleep, invaded the air around me.
“I’m here,” I said softly, because the night felt delicate, too quiet, and the normal sound of my voice too loud, loud enough to shatter the glass.
Why did I want to run after her? Why did I refuse to? Something in her face had stopped me, something I couldn’t take away from her. Fear of seeing more made me turn.
Brando sat up in bed, his hair tousled, his face a mask of sleep. “Come to me, my baby.”
He opened his arms and I ran into them. He kissed the top of my head and rocked me back and forth. “You went to the bathroom. You looked for the ticket—” he kissed me even harder “—and then you went to get a drink of water. You saw something.”
All I could do was nod.
“You can’t stop them.” I went to pull away, to look at him, but he held me close to his heart. “I don’t like it.” His hands opened and closed against me. “Life can be ugly, baby. Sometimes we have to do whatever we can to find the beauty in it. Even if it’s wrong. Even if it’s just for a short time.”
“Mick?”
“He loves her.”
“Mitch?”
“He loves her too,” he sighed.
No matter how hard I tried to erase it, the image of Mitch and Violet had been branded into my memory.
Chapter Sixteen
Scarlett
Sunday morning rolled in nice and easy. I blinked against the tilted light streaming through the slats of the window blinds, falling dramatically across the bed. Smoke curled and purled in the golden glow.
The air seemed plump with the smells of coffee, bacon, and toast. I was still too tired to be intrigued by the combination. My focus went to my hand, which rested in front of my face, and I watched, transfixed, as my fingers lightly tapped against the fabric of the pillow.
I often woke anxious, and taking a moment to allow my feelings a chance to settle always seemed to propel me into the day with more ease.
A mug of something hot appeared in my line of sight. My eyes moved slowly to his hand, to his arm, to his chest, his neck, and all the way up to his eyes, which were bright from the light of the sun. He had a gorgeous smile. I smiled with him, rubbing my feet back and forth against the softness of the blanket, almost ready to succumb to the siren call of sleep again.
He placed the mug on the bedside table and then took a seat next to me. In the most natural way, his large hand went to my hip and he shook me a bit. “Two things occurred to me this morning while I was making coffee.”
“Do tell.” My voice was low, almost languid. I put my hand over his, just to feel his