“My phone died,” she replied, pointing to the device sitting on top of her purse and jacket at the other end of the stall.
“Can I call someone for you from my phone? Parents, roommate, siblings?” I asked again, not sure how to proceed from there.
“No! You can’t. My brother will kill me. Bash can’t know. Please don’t tell him.” I raised an eyebrow at the name Bash and her extreme reaction to the idea of him knowing.
I knew most people would tell the bartender and leave at that, maybe call the police. I also knew that expecting other people to do the right thing wasn’t a wise course of action.
I had been through enough in life to know not to depend on anyone else. I also knew how dangerous it could be for a girl who was that inebriated to be on her own. After a small moment of hesitation, I decided to just take her to my apartment. That way, I could have a clear conscience and make sure she was safe, at least for the night.
Giving in, I asked her if she wanted to crash at my place. She nodded before turning toward the toilet once more. I managed to grab an empty trash bag from the cleaning supplies stashed in the cabinet under the sinks before returning to try to get the girl on her feet. I learned that her name was Charlie, and together, we made it out of the pub and into my car. In the back seat, she started bemoaning her current situation.
“That asshole just left me in the bathroom! Like some piece of trash? Does he have any idea who he’s fucking with? I could ruin his life in a second. His name was Theo. How fucking lame! Shoulda never went out tonight, never ditched the prospects. My brother is gonna be so pissed.”
She muttered some more, and I nodded along as if I understood what she was talking about. Eventually, she fell asleep, the trash bag clutched to her chest and her phone in her hand. I got her up to my apartment and quickly plugged her phone in before awkwardly hovering outside the bathroom while she showered. I didn’t want any vomit in my apartment, but I also wasn’t sure if letting her stand in the shower was the best idea.
I looked around my space, appreciating the haven I had created for myself. It was a small one-bedroom with an eat-in kitchen off the living room. My bedroom was cozy, my full-size bed was simple, but I had splurged on the sheets and blankets. They were a soft teal color with a fluffy navy duvet. My couch was a simple three-seater, but I had found a really cool accent chair to pair with it.
In the kitchen, I had a small table that could fit four people and enough counter space to meal prep as much as I needed. My dishes and cups were an eclectic mix of flea market finds, as were most of the decorative items scattered throughout the home. I had spent weeks scouring thrift stores and Facebook Marketplace to fill the apartment, and was pleased with the final result.
I heard the water turn off, and was grateful once Charlie emerged from the bathroom. She was dressed in the clean pajamas I had given her, and I watched helplessly as she crawled into my bed, promptly passing out. With a sigh, I rolled her over so she was lying on her side with a trash can next to the bed. Heading into the other room, I went and checked her phone.
It had enough juice to turn on, but I left it plugged in since the battery was still very low. After checking on Charlie once more to make sure she hadn’t thrown up, I crashed on the couch. Pulling one of my softest throw blankets over me, I got myself settled in the living room.This is what I get for going out on a Friday night.
Bash
I had been trying to reach my sister all night, but when her phone started going straight to voicemail, I got nervous. She had ditched her guards and gone out without any protection. Charliewas young and rash. Partying and meeting a guy who would piss me off were her main priorities.
All the sleazeball rich boys, Wall Street wannabes, and street corner musicians pissed themselves when they found out my baby sister was protected by the Reaper’s Guard. Born and raised in the MC life, you would think Charlie would know better, but I guess when you’re surrounded by leather and tattoos, rebelling would come in the form of a khaki-wearing man-child.
This latest stunt was getting her ass tanned, though. Had to get Keys to track her phone, and now there I was in the middle of the night at some rundown apartment building, about to kick some fucker’s ass. It was ridiculously simple to get into, just buzzing units until someone unlocked the door. I quickly stalked up the four flights of stairs, unsurprised to see the elevator down. Finally outside of the apartment where my sister’s phone was located, all my patience was gone. Banging on the thin wood, I let the full strength of my voice carry through the door.
“Listen up, motherfucker, you’ve got two seconds to open this door before I kick it down.” I stood back, ready to barge my way through, when I heard the telltale sound of a bolt turning. The door opened a crack, the chain still keeping it tethered, and large eyes magnified by thick glasses peeked up at me. I took a step back, confused at what I was seeing.
“Who are you?” the girl asked in a hiss.
“I’m looking for a girl. Blonde hair. Name is Charlotte. Goes by Charlie?” I answered, trying to get a peek into the apartment.
“That doesn’t explain who you are,” she replied, unfazed.
“Look, I don’t have time for this. I need to get my sister now. “ She stuck her hand out and made agimmemotion.
“ID, please.” I sighed.This is ridiculous.
I could kick through her door and the flimsy chain in a second, but something had me holding back. I dug out my walletand pulled out my ID, passing it to her. She took it into the apartment. I saw a light flash, and I assumed she took a photo of my license.
Smart girl.To my surprise, instead of slipping the card back through a crack in the door, she removed the chain, and then the door opened. I stepped into the small apartment, my eyes landing on the old couch with blankets strewn across it, as if that was where the girl had been sleeping.
“You’re Charlie’s brother?” she asked me. I looked at her, surprised, nodding mutely.
The girl was barely five feet, the top of her head hitting me mid-sternum. She had fiery red hair that appeared curly, although she currently had it wrangled into a long braid down her back. She was fair-skinned and had a smattering of freckles across her nose.
From behind tortoiseshell frames, her light brown eyes shone with flecks of copper. I stood there taking her in, losing myself in her delicate features and large eyes. She had an oversized jersey over an old pair of sweatpants. It took me longer than I cared to admit to realize she was speaking.
“I found her in the bathroom at a bar. She wasn’t doing so hot, and her phone was dead. I couldn’t get an address out of her, so I brought her here for the night. She’s in the bedroom. She’s been throwing up, so I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”
Shock ran through me. That small girl had done more for my sister than I could believe. I sure as fuck wouldn’t have looked twice at some chick vomiting in a public bathroom. I peeked into the bedroom to see Charlie sprawled in the center of the girl’s bed, water and medicine lined up neatly on the nightstand.
“Jesus Christ. She’s a fucking mess. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for the banging. I thought you were the guy she went out with.”
