Saving Scarlett

By Randa Goode

Scarlett Young has big plans after graduation: college on the far side of the country and a new life that doesn’t include any traces of her old one. That is if she can survive a summer in Lost Creek. But when she uncovers something evil creeping along the edges of the community and its strange connection to local nineteen-year-old Riley Shelton, surviving may be harder than she thought. Danger continues to grow while Scarlett discovers the people of Lost Creek are not what they seem, including the handsome and mysterious Blake, who lives next door. With his help, she may be able to expose the truth and prevent the wickedness in town from spreading. But if she's not careful, she may not be able to save anyone...including herself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Randa Goode
• Release date: Jul 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310513091

Randa Goode

When she’s not writing, she’s busy her children’s activities, spending time with her husband, and working full-time as a personal banker. In 2010, her short story THE COFFIN LADY OF CROSBY won the Canis Latran Editor’s Choice Award. Then in 2011, CROSSROADS, her young adult debut novel was published.The Scarlett Series has been something she has wanted to work on for a while. SAVING SCARLETT is now available with SEEING SCARLETT coming out Summer 2014.

Book preview

Saving

Scarlett

RANDA GOODE

Saving Scarlett

Copyright 2013 Randa Goode

Published by One Tree Publishing

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author through her website at www.randagoode.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

Smashwords Edition

For Mia, Shadi, and Natasha

Thanks for everything

Hell is empty.

All the devils are here.

~WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

About the Author

Other books by Randa Goode

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

I crammed twenty-eight dollars of tip money into the glass jar sitting on my dresser just as the thud from a car door sounded in the driveway. Mom was home.

My chest felt suddenly heavy as I thought about her stumbling down the hallway, holding the walls for support, knocking the few pictures that still remained to the ground, only to tell me about another one of her reckless nights. I flicked the light off and hurried beneath the covers, still wearing my jeans and a red Luigi’s Pizza T-shirt that reeked of garlic, and settled in just before my bedroom door creaked open.

Breathless and silent, I waited for her to register that I was asleep before she headed to do the same thing. But the door remained open for too long and an eerie silence settled in the room.

What was she doing?

Then all at once, panic set in when a heavy footstep fell against the hardwood floor - a footstep that wasn’t Mom’s. Shifting, I saw the silhouette of a man, greasy and overweight, standing at my dresser. But even from the dim light from the hallway, I knew who it was - Frank Bradford - Mom’s somewhat boyfriend.

To me, he was the human equivalent of a cockroach, scurrying around the house, eating what he could, taking what wasn’t his, until someone clicked on the light to expose his laziness and lies. Then Frank would move on to the next house, to the next woman.

And it wasn’t like Mom didn’t know what kind of man Frank was. She had heard all the rumors. Even caught him at Sheila Stephenson’s house in nothing but his boxer shorts and an apologetic grin a couple of weeks ago.

Still, Frank knew all he had to do was give Mom a few days to cool off, then beg for her forgiveness. She bought it every time.

What are you doing? I demanded as I clicked on the lamp near my bed.

Frank spun around, his sausage fingers fumbling around in the glass jar. I thought you were asleep, he grumbled.

Yeah, I figured that.

His dark eyes, bloodshot and glassy, narrowed as I flung off the covers. He moved quicker, scrambling to claim the money before I stop him. I crossed the room in two hurried steps and grabbed for the jar. Give it back!

No, Frank said as he splayed a sweaty hand across my face and shoved me into the bookshelf. I sank to the ground while books rained down on top of me.

Before I could get to my feet, Frank dumped the contents of the jar onto my bed and scooped up all he could in a single swipe, then hobbling out the door.

I leapt up and hurried after him, slipping on the books, bouncing off the door jam, before finally hitching his arm. Stop, I said.

Without warning, his elbow smashed against my face, sending pain through my nose milliseconds before the blood.

Look what you did, I screamed, fighting back tears as my hand turned red.

But Frank didn’t care. He just kept walking into the living room, shoving my money into his pocket as if nothing happened. I followed him.

What’s going on? Mom said, getting up from the couch wear she had just kicked off her shoes.

He stole my money!

Frank scoffed. Why would I do that?

Because you don’t have a job.

Hate blazed in his eyes. I didn’t steal your money, he said.

Yes, you did!

Frank turned to Mom. Are you going to just let her talk to me like that?

Mom’s resolve to discover the truth wilted under Frank’s glare and the effects of alcohol. Her brow crinkled as she turned to me. Now, Scarlett, she slurred, you can’t just go around accusing people of things.

I saw him do it, Mom.

She stood there for a minute, unsure, before Frank snuggled up to her and whispered in her ear. Are you going to believe a kid over me?

I’m eighteen, I said, still wiping at my nose. Old enough for the police to take me seriously even if she doesn’t.

Again, Frank was quick and a white flash sent me to the floor with the unmistakable taste of iron filled my mouth. When the room came back into existence, Frank stood over me, his hand smeared with my blood. I said I didn’t take it!

Mom stood behind him, her arms folded in defeat. She wasn’t going to do anything. Not now. Not ever.

Slowly I got back to my feet, the world felt uneven beneath me as I let the blood splat to the floor in perfect circles. I don’t need this, I said, hating the way the quiver in my voice betrayed me. I don’t need any of it.

I stumbled back to my room and locked myself inside. Why did I even bother staying? I wondered.

Mom knocked on the door. Scarlett, she said, her voice as frail as her determination to protect me.

But I ignored it, knowing it didn’t matter what she said or promised me now. She wasn’t going to change. She wasn’t ever going to be the mom I needed her to be. I dug out two bags from my closet and shoved in as many clothes as I could fit into them as the knocks continued to sound.

C’mon, Scarlett, she said again.

And again, I refused to listen to her and reached beneath my bed, pulling out a shoebox marked COLLEGE, then shoved the rubber-banded stacks of tip money into my purse. It wasn’t much, but it would get me out of here.

I got to my feet, grabbed the vintage camera Mom had given me two Christmases back and the dreamcatcher my sister, Hazel, had made me a long time ago, and added them to my haul. I stepped back and looked around to see if I had missed anything else.

I should just leave the rest of it, I thought to myself, looking at the mess of books beneath the shelf, the uneven bed, the shabby curtains that never kept the light out. I wouldn’t miss any of it. Not really.

And in a single breath, the room morphed into something unrecognizable. Something that no longer belonged to me. Something that was no longer home.

When I finally unlocked the door, Mom fell into the room and onto the bed, struggling to regain her balance as I scooted into the hallway, then into the living room. Frank sat on the couch, his boots propped on the rickety coffee table, his eyes fixed on the television, and my money still in his pocket.

He could have it all - the money, the house, - for all I cared.

As I tore open the front door, I had always imagined what leaving home would feel like, and in every scenario, I imagined myself sadder. I imagined myself hesitating. But now I was bursting free from the house and into the summer night, running to my car.

Through the passenger’s side window, I watched Mom walk past the open front door just as I brought the engine to life. A part of me wanted to go back inside and make her come away with me and leave all this behind. But I knew if I went back, all that was waiting was lifetime of regret, a lifetime of wishing I had left when I had the chance. As I pulled from the curb, a knot lodged itself in my throat.

I couldn’t save her.

I could barely save myself.

The road sign for Lost Creek gleamed in the headlights and I took the exit, feeling a rush of fear bubble inside me. But this sudden panic wasn’t from the town, but at the thought of seeing Hazel again.

I wasn’t even sure why I came here. Maybe because I had nowhere else to go. Maybe because it had been three years since I’d seen Hazel and I missed her. But whatever the reason, a small part of me wished I had just stayed on the highway.

I mean, what if Hazel didn’t want to see me? What if she didn’t want to be found? It wasn’t like she had sent me an invitation to come visit. All I’d ever gotten from her since she left home was a graduation card two weeks ago in the mail.

I glanced over at the envelope sticking out of my bag, the edges already worn from the many nights I laid on my bed, staring at Hazel’s curly handwriting. I tried to picture her standing in a grocery store in front of the sea of cards, reading one after another until finally selecting that one. And what about the inscription? Had she struggled with it, as well, testing out several, before deciding on Best of luck because I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you since I left wasn’t really what you wrote in a high school graduation card?

Either way, It wasn’t really the come-and-see-me-when-you’re-in-town kind of offer I was making it out to be. But even so, Hazel was my sister, and if anyone would understand why I was running, it would be her.

A yellow warning light flashed about a mile down the road, breaking up the stillness of the early morning. Beyond that was Lost Creek, a small town nestled among tall pines. I couldn’t really imagine Hazel living here. The town seemed too small, too off the map for her. But then again, I hadn’t spoken with her in a few years, so what did I know about her anymore?

The sun had yet to break from the earth, but the darkness had started to brighten into a soft gray. As I slowed the car, leaning forward on the steering wheel and stretching out the tight muscles in my back, a figure caught my attention when it broke through the shadows a few yards in front of my headlights, then paused on the road.

What is that? I said to myself, stopping the car.

A bear? A person?

I blinked into the darkness, straining to make out details, disbelieving my eyes when murky streams swirled from the mass in front of me like ribbons on the wind. Inching closer, I fought the voice in my head that screamed for me to just drive around it. But something inside me made me stay.

Every movement I made, it countered, drifting back toward Lost Creek, keeping itself just beyond the headlights. I put the car in park and sat there as the thing floated from one side of the road to the other. After a long second, I swallowed back my fear and opened the car door. The cool morning air startled my senses, and for a moment, I assumed the creature would dart back into the forest, leaving me forever wondering what it was. But instead of fleeing, it anchored itself on the concrete and stretched its long arms out by its side, almost like it was daring my advance.

The soft wind shifted around me, bringing with it a sense of dread, and this time, the voice in my head won out and I jumped back into my car, locking the doors. The creature grew from its midsection, expanding until I was leaning over my steering wheel to see the top of it.

My hand shook as I yanked the car into gear, grinding the transmission, then stomping on the gas. The wheel squealed in the silent morning and I squinted my eyes shut, bracing myself against the inevitable crash. But after a few feet, nothing had happened - no crash, no thud, and I opened my eyes, finding the road in front of me empty.

I adjusted my rearview mirror, scanning the barren road.

Maybe I should get checked for a concussion, I thought, willing myself to believe that the blows from Frank had something to do with what I was seeing. But still I found myself checking the rearview mirror a second time and pressing the gas pedal harder, just in case.

I pulled into the parking lot of The