Savannah Scarlett by Becky Lee Weyrich

Author:Becky Lee Weyrich
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION/Romance/General
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2014-05-18T16:00:00+00:00

The party got wild after Bolt and Kathleen left. Allen brought out tapes of their high school and college “oldies but goodies” and turned the volume of the tape deck up full blast. The liquor flowed like the eternal tides at Tybee Beach. Before long his fashionable guests got down, kicking off their shoes and doing the dirty bop, a dance that brought back memories of youth, hope, and eagerness for all the golden years yet to be lived. More memories than any yearbook could supply.

Mary Scarlett felt the years rolling back as she was passed from one guy to the next, each wanting his turn with the best dancer of them all. Bolt’s hasty departure with Kathleen had left her crushed and depressed but no one would have guessed. More champagne and all that old music had her flying high.

“Just like old times, eh?” Allen shouted above the music as he gyrated rhythmically, sending pelvic thrusts toward Mary Scarlett’s thighs.

“Right on, man!” she answered in that deep smoky voice—low, sexy, and inviting.

She reached the very peak of her euphoric intoxication around one in the morning. From there the drop was straight down, with the dark jaws of hell waiting at the bottom. She looked up suddenly and saw him leering at her from the stairs.

“Raul!” she gasped.

“Say what?” Lawton Winthrop shouted over the music and laugher. “Couldn’t hear you, honey.”

But Mary Scarlett didn’t stay to repeat anything. She broke away from her gyrating partner and ran for the front door. Allen was in the kitchen at the time, but even if he had been in the room, she wouldn’t have bothered with the formalities of saying good night or thanks for a great party. She shed his diamonds and tossed them on a table by the door. Then she vanished into the night before anyone could stop her.

The others shrugged and bopped on. Mary Scarlett had long been known for her abrupt departures.

Without even knowing where she was going, Mary Scarlett turned toward Bull Street. Shoes in hand, she hurried barefoot, leaving Lafayette Square and heading west along Charlton Street. She was conscious of the cool, misty air of night on her face and the day’s trapped warmth in the pavement beneath her feet. She quickened her pace until she was almost running, glancing over her shoulders now and again, checking to see if Raul was following.

By the time she reached the wrought-iron fence around her childhood home, she was out of breath, exhausted, and shaking with fear. With a final burst of energy, she flung the gate open and ran up the weed-choked brick path to the veranda. She had taken the key back to Bolt’s apartment earlier in the day, but she knew where an emergency key lay hidden. Surely, it would still be there. Only her family had known of its existence.

It took all her strength to raise the molded concrete planter by the stairs. Her effort was rewarded when her hand closed around the heavy key to the front door.

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