“You sure about letting her leave?” Day asked.
“Yeah, she’s solid,” Demi replied. “Let’s get this over with so I can get back to her.”
“How you know, bro?” Day pressed the issue. They had never left a witness alive. Ever.
“Because a nigga gon’ have to kill me to get to her. We not doing that. She’s off fucking limits, Day,” Demi said. “You hear me?”
Day gritted his teeth. “Yeah, man. I hear you.”
Six hours had passed, and Charlie couldn’t get the sound of the gunshot out of her mind. She had called him every 30 minutes since then. When she heard him put the key in the lock, she stood. She didn’t know why. She just needed to be on her feet. Her anxiety was rotting inside of her.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Demi paused at the door, looking at her. She was scared.
“I’m good, Bird,” he answered. “I can’t stay, though, baby.”
She nodded. “So why come at all, Demi?” she asked.
“You saw something tonight that you were never supposed to see,” he answered.
“I was at the club, writing. I stay late sometimes to soak up the vibe while I write my songs. I write songs when something hurts. Everything hurts right now, Demi,” she explained, wiping away effortless tears as they fell silently.
“I need you to forget what you saw. You were never there. You went home. When you left, Frankie was still there alone. That’s your story,” Demi said. “If anybody asks.”
“And that’s it. Tell me my lines and now you go back to your wife? And your son?” she asked. She was trying so hard not to care. Demi approached her, caressing her face as he pressed his forehead against hers.
“My Bird,” he whispered. He was soft for a millisecond before he turned it off. “I need you to focus on getting this right. Nothing else matters. I know you’re hurting. I know. I’ma fix everything. That’s my word, but tonight, I need you to get your story straight.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and then walked out, leaving her with more questions than answers.
Chapter 19
Charlie barely felt like herself. She was tired all the time. Sleeping all the time. Crying all the time. She just wanted to make the pain go away. She was walking around with this pit in her stomach and it made her weak. It was like losing Demi made her feel all her past hurts too. It all came at her at once. She carried her guitar case into the club. He had said to go. To show up. To not go would seem suspicious, so despite her fleeting nerves, she walked into the building.
She expected to see the blood still staining the floor, but it was clean. It was like the night before hadn’t even happened.
“Hey, Charles,” Justin said.
“Hey,” she greeted, her eyes never leaving the spot on the floor. She wondered if Demi had killed Frankie. Every time he called, she couldn’t bring herself to answer. The way he had beaten Frankie the night before had terrified Charlie. Deep inside, she knew he was dangerous but seeing it... Charlie just couldn’t shake her fear of him.
“You heard from Frankie? His car’s here and the door was unlocked when I got here but he’s nowhere in sight,” Justin said.
She shook her head but couldn’t quite find the lie she was searching for.
Her face was pale, and she was sure she would throw up. The room was hot.
“Charles, you okay? You look kind of...”
Before Justin could finish his sentence, she was falling.
“Whoa, Charles.” He caught her and Charlie clung to him as he scooped her off her feet.
“Can we just get out of here?” she asked. “This place makes me sick.” It reminded her of Demi, of the way his fist had crashed into Frankie’s face, of the way his eyes had gone completely blank, of the sound Frankie’s hand had made when Demi broke it. If she stayed, she may reveal something she shouldn’t. She was grateful when she heard the clang of the heavy club door open and felt the sun on her face as Justin carried her to her car.
“You good to make it home?” he asked as he put her in the driver’s seat.
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s been a long night. I don’t feel that great and I just don’t feel like being here.”
