He was still in shock that he'd walked out on Brooklynn. He couldn't believe that after over a year of not being able to breathe without her, he had just left. But he didn't regret it, and that was what confused him most. He missed her, but was glad that it was all over.
Instead of trying to think about her, about what had happened, or even trying to understand their sudden and final departure, he sat down at his old Nintendo system, and had been playing since he left her the night before, pausing the game only to take a nap or light a new cigarette.
For a brief moment, after his current Mario had died, he hit paused, and let himself think of her as he lit another Marlboro, crushing the old butt in his now overflowing ashtray.
'I hope her heart's broken. I hope she's drowning in her own tears and she realizes I'm never coming back.'
He took the pause off and began to play again.
And then he laughed. "Serves her right--maybe now she'll understand how she made me feel..." he said aloud to himself.
He knew that he was just being childish and resentful because he was angry at her, angry at the way she'd made him feel inadequate, but it made him feel better anyway.
His phone rang suddenly, breaking his concentration and causing his character to fall down a gap.
"FUCK!" he swore, then hit the pause button and reached for his phone. "Hello?" he answered moodily.
"Something terrible's happened..." Sam's voice wavered on the other line.
"What's wrong? What happened?" Scott's mood changed instantly at the sound of his friend's desperate voice.
"Go tot he apartment...Taylor...Draco...I don't know what to do!" Sam broke into tears, unable to complete full and coherent sentences.
"Sam, where are you? What happened?" Scott asked calmly, but was met with louder sobs.
"Please, Scott...go make sure she's alright," Sam begged, then hung up the phone.
"Sam! Sam are you in there? Taylor?" Scott pounded on the apartment door that the little gold 731H shook. But nobody answered.
He tried the door handle. Locked.
"Taylor are you there? Sam?!" Scott was about to give up and declare no one home when he heard Draco crying.
"Taylor open the god damn door! What's going on?!" he shouted.
It was then that he remembered the spare key above the door frame.
Scott reached up and felt around for a moment before curling his fingers around it.
He quickly opened the door and walked inside. The apartment was silent aside from Draco's screams. He was sitting in his highchair, obviously still waiting for breakfast to finish.
"Hey pal," Scott lifted the small boy up. "Where's mommy at?"
The sight of Scott stopped Draco's tears and put a grin in their place.
"Let's go lay down in our crib until Uncle Scott can figure out what the hell's goin on round here," he walked the baby into the nursery and laid him down. "Stay here and be good, kay buddy."
Scott closed the bedroom door. "Taylor!" he called again, then walked into the master bedroom.
There she was, sitting on the floor, her arms around her knees which were pulled up to her chest. Her head was down and she was rocking back and forth slowly.
"Taylor," he walked over to her cautiously and crouched down.
"Go away, Scott...you don't need to be here..." she squeaked, never looking up, still rocking.
"Taylor wahat happened? I got this phone call from Sam--"
"He's a fucking bastard," she muttered.
"--and he asked me to come and see you are you two fighting?"
"He heard her start to cry.
"Taylor, talk to me..."
"He...we were fighting last night...and it carried over into this morning...and I told him he was a terrible husband and father...and...and..." she lifted her head to push her hair out of her face, wipe the tears that had soaked her face.
And that was when Scott saw her throat. The deep, ugly purple bruises in the shape of fingers...
"Taylor...who...did he..." he asked weakly, feeling sick to his stomache at the thought.
"He grabbed me...and he threw me against the wall...he was gonna slap me..." she cried harder.
"Ohmygod," he whispered then pulled her close to him. He held her and let her cry and kept telling her that she was okay, that Sam would never touch her again.
Scott lifted her to her feet and practically carried her to the bathroom, where he pulled her long hair back and splashed her face with cool water.
"Come on...I'll get you a drink...calm down," he sat her at the dining room table.
"Ohmygod..." she noticed the empty highchair. "Draco! Where's Draco?!"
"In his room where I put him," Scott set a cup of coffee in front of her, then sat down as well and lit a cigarette.
"Can I bum one?" she asked quietly.
"I thought you quit," he shook one out of his pack for her.
"Today's the day I start again," she brought it to her lips, and Scott lit it for her.
"Lemme see," he gently lifted her chin, then lightly ran his finger tips over the marks.
"That mother fucker..." he muttered.
"I'm leaving him...and I'm taking Draco," she whispered.
Scott nodded. "Stay here...I'm gonna call someone to come over and help pack, okay," he stood from the table and went into the bedroom to use the phone.
Slowly, tentatively, he dialed Brook's number.
"Hello?" she answered weakly.
"It's Scott--"
"Ohmygod...Scott, I'm so sor--"
"You have to come to Taylor's place right now," he said quickly, seriously, then hung up the phone.
She showed up in record time.
"Scott, I really," she started the minute he answered the door.
"Now is not the time or place," he answered visciously. "Taylor's in her room...packing. She's leaving Sam and I need you to help her get the fuck out of here. Draco too."
"Why is she leaving?" Brooklynn asked in concern.
"Take a look at the bruise on her throat and you'll understand," he grabbed his jacket and car keys.
She gasped. "He didn't..."
"He did. Now, go help her. Keep her calm. Take her to your place. She doesn't want her family to know right now, so she doesn't want to go home. I'll be over shortly."
"Wait, where are you going?"
"To kill that mother fucker," Scott answered seriously, then left the apartment.