Mine | ✔️

Chapter 9

Song for this Chapter: Say You Won't Let Go

When you looked over your shoulder / For a second I was stone cold sober / I wanna dance with you right now

Alex's P.O.V

It's been 3 weeks. 3 weeks of me slowly nursing Scar back to life. Most of her injuries had healed, and she only experienced pain sometimes when she overworked herself. But hey, I gotta kiss the pain away, so I wasn't complaining. I just hated the fact that she was in any pain at all. I would take her back to the doctor to see if there was something seriously wrong, but Scar wanted nothing to do with any hospital, so it was up to me to play doctor.

Brushing the hair away from her face, I planted feathery kisses all over her face, which inevitably woke her up. "Morning sleeping beauty," I say, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

"Morning," she says stretching.

"How do you feel?" I ask.

"Well rested and hungry," she says, and as if rehearsed, her stomach growled.

"Guess we need to feed the princess then," I say. Scooping her up, I bring her down to the kitchen and set her down onto the counter.

"Bonjour soleil, qu'est-ce que la princesse aimerait manger au petit-déjeuner aujourd'hui?" I say.

"Um, what?" Scarlett asks.

"I forgot you're not French," I say. "I was saying 'Good morning sunshine, what is it that the princess would like to eat for breakfast today?'" I say translating.

"Oh! Um, do we have waffles?" she asks.

"Oui on fait beau," I say, tossing them onto the table.

"Again. Me speako English," Scarlett says.

"I was saying 'yes we do beautiful'. I'm definitely teaching you French sometime soon," I say.

"Oh. And okay sounds good," she replies.

"Would you like anything else with your waffles?" I ask.

"Do we have eggs, bacon, and cheese?" she asks as her stomach growls again.

"Yes we do. You just sit there and look pretty, I'm gonna make you the best fucking breakfast you've ever had," I say. Breaking a few eggs onto the pan and seasoning them, I toss some bacon into a different pan to let them start cooking. Grabbing the waffles into the toaster, I add some cheese to the eggs. As soon as the waffles pop up, I put them on a plate and transfer the eggs onto them. Taking the bacon out, I put it on top of the eggs and put the second waffle on top. Topping it all off, I drizzle some syrup onto the sandwich and give it to Scarlett, who's drooling.

"Trust me, it tastes better than it looks," I say. Taking the plate and sitting down at the table, I sit across from her and watch her devour it as if she's never eaten before.

"Do you want another?" I ask, laughing at how fast she finished it. Sucking the syrup off her thumb, she nods her head and I get to work on a second. God, she looked so innocent sucking her thumb.

Calm yourself, Alex.

Handing her her second waffle sandwich, she devours that one and sighs in satisfaction.

"Another?" I ask.

"Good God, no. I'm so stuffed. I feel like I'm pregnant," she says rubbing her belly. I mean, that could be arranged, I think to myself. Calm the fuck down Alex. You're not there yet.

"So, what do you want to do now?" I ask.

"Do you have any video games?" she asks.

"Um, yes. Why?" I ask.

"I've always wanted to play a video game. Just to see what all the hype is about," she says.

"You're telling me, you've never played a video game before in your entire life?" I ask in disbelief.

"Nope. Never," she says.

"Never? No FIFA, GTA, Call of Duty? Nothing?" I ask.

"Nada,"  she replies.

"Good God, your parents were monsters," I say.

"Correction. My mom and her husband are monsters. My dad was a good guy," she says, looking down.

"What happened to him?" I ask.

"He died. On my 5th birthday. I don't really remember much about him, just that I'm the reason he's dead," she says.

"What? I doubt that's true," I reply.

"It is though. You see this locket?" she asks, showing me the locket hanging around her neck.

"Yeah," I say.

"It was the one thing I really wanted for my birthday. So my dad went to get it for me. On his way home he crashed. This is the last real thing I have of him. The rest is all a blur," she says looking at the picture of her and her father together in the locket. "My mom always blames me for him dying, and she was right to do so. If I didn't want the damn locket, my dad would still be here," she says as a tear escapes her eye and rolls down her cheek.

"Hey. It wasn't your fault. Do you at least know where he's buried?" I ask.

"No. I was only there once when it was his funeral, but my mom never took us back to his grave. She said it was best to let the past be the past," Scar replies.

"Well that's some bullshit because she still treated you like shit years after your father died," I reply.

"Yeah, but in a way she had every right to. I'm the reason her husband is dead," Scarlett says. I felt bad for her. Her mother drilled into her head that she was the reason her father was dead. But I know for a fact that that wasn't true. I may not have known the exact events, but I know Scarlett couldn't be to blame. It was her birthday for fuck's sake. How could a 5 year old not want something for their birthday? The fact that he died was merely coincidental. It's not like Scar blew out a candle on her birthday cake and wished for her father to be dead.

"Are you kidding me? Scarlett, what happened was merely coincidental. You didn't wish for your father dead, or quite literally kill him, therefore it isn't and never was your fault," I say.

"Tell that to my mom," she says, clearly defeated.

"Hey. Look at me," I say, tilting her chin up so she could look at me. "What happened, wasn't under any circumstance, your fault. Your mother is just a bitch and needed someone to blame," I continue.

"I guess," she says, clearly not believing me.

"Hey, how about we watch a movie and get your mind off of it?" I ask.

"Sure. Can we make popcorn?" she asks.

"Of course. I'll make it, you head over to the movie room," I say. As soon as she cleared the kitchen, I called Mike.

"Hey, I need you to look up Scar's father. I don't know his name, but find out and get me everything you can on him. Anyone connected to him gets looked into as well," I say.

"Yes, boss," he says hanging up.

Something about what Scarlett told me just wasn't adding up. I don't think that Scarlett was lying, I just think that whatever her mother told her, wasn't the complete truth. And Scarlett deserved way more than that.