She’s on the run.
She’s hiding from someone, and that someone has evidently left her this macabre little gift to let her know he’s back. Rage like I haven’t felt in a long while bubbles up inside me. At her ex for putting that horrified look on her face. At Charlie for notconfiding in me sooner. For failing to warn me about the threat surrounding her, so that I might’ve been better prepared for whatever I’m up against. And at myself, for letting her get too close. For letting myself care about her to the point that I can no longer, in good conscience, walk away from this situation. But who am I kidding? Even if we’d just met an hour ago, I’d never be able to turn my back on a woman who’s obviously being fucked with by some sicko.
Shoving my anger into the to-be-dealt-with-later compartment in my head, I reach under the back of my shirt and pull my sidearm from my waistband. Charlie’s eyes widen at the sight, obviously not expecting me to walk around the place packing heat. But I don’t go anywhere unarmed, and I won’t ever be caught with my guard down again.
“Stay behind me,” I bark, and push through the front door, ignoring the jingling of the bells as I sweep the room. Forcing myself to soften my voice, I order her to lock the door behind her before I cross the floor and walk us around the front desk and through the doorway leading into the stairwell. Ignoring the urge to head upstairs to make sure no one’s invaded her private quarters, I go straight, entering what looks to be a common area with a small kitchenette just big enough to house a mini fridge, coffee machine,and microwave. There’s a table with four cheap metal chairs and not much else.
I direct her to the one that’s out of sight of the back door before I snap the lock into place with a quick twist of the wrist.
“Is there a basement?” I ask, my tone softening when I see her pale complexion and how she nervously bites at the corner of her thumb. She shakes her head no, and I drop to my haunches in front of her while I wait for her to meet my eyes. “Listen to me. Nothing will happen to you as long as I’m with you.”
I can see she’s fighting to keep the tears at bay, and it does something to the thawing block of ice in my chest cavity that I’m not ready to acknowledge.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, and she nods her head, emerald irises hanging on mine like she needs this connection to keep her tethered. “Good. Stay here. Don’t move and keep away from the windows and doors. I’m going to head upstairs to do a quick sweep. I’ll be back before you know it. Just sit tight, alright? Here, have some water,” I urge, grabbing a cold bottle from the fridge and placing it on the table in front of her. Then, I force myself to leave the room.
It takes less than five minutes to determine that her apartment is clear and undisturbed. Scooby seemed like his usual sleepy self, barely even lifting his head to acknowledge my presence, so I don’tthink her ex is in the building. However, I know I won’t be able to fully relax until I check the perimeter, so I head back downstairs to let Charlie know that’s what I’m doing.
I keep my gun at the ready as I make my way around the main building and into the surrounding woods, but don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The foliage seems undisturbed. There are no cigarette butts, old pieces of gum, or tattered bits of fabric hanging off branches, nor anything else that would lead me to believe someone’s been loitering for any period of time.
When I’m satisfied the threat is no longer on the premises, I knock on the back door and wait for Charlie to let me back in. I harden myself against the sight of her quivering chin and take a seat across from her before giving her a single nod.
“Start talking.”
Charlie chews on her bottom lip and takes a deep breath before releasing it on a shaky exhale. Then she does exactly that. She tells me she met Jason Markham during her freshman year of high school. That his relentless pursuit of her impressed her so much, she’d eventually given in to his charms. How they were inseparable and happy for a handful of years, and that she’d convinced herself he was the one. She tells me about Jason’s father pressuring him into a life he hadn’t wanted any part of, and how their relationshipbecame more and more strained. That’s when Jason began drinking, causing him to turn into someone she no longer recognized.
“He was just so angry all the time, you know?” she hiccups, swiping at her damp lashes. “I tried so hard to please him, but I couldn’t do anything right.” She recalls spending night after night staying up until the sun rose, as she waited for her fiancé to return home to the small apartment they’d shared. She talks about the day he eventually gave in to his father’s demands to take on a bigger role in his motorcycle club, and about the first time he struck her after she’d questioned his morals.
“That motherfucker,” I growl, grinding my molars so hard my jaw pops.
“That’s when I knew I had to leave,” she tells me with a hard glint in her eye. Like the mere memory of the life-changing incident still sparks a heartbreaking sense of betrayal.
“That night, I waited until he was asleep, packed the bare minimum, grabbed my cat, and went to stay with my parents. A couple of days later, I found Garfield dead on our front porch. The text message I received right after I discovered him made it more than clear just how far Jason was willing to go to keep me at his side.”
Scooby and Garfield. I’m beginning to see a pattern here, but now is not the time to poke fun at her. What little amusement managed to seep through the gut-churning anger boiling in myblood dies a quick death when she goes on to describe how he began the slow but very effective process of isolating her from all her friends, until there was no one left to turn to.
My blood pressure rises further when she voices her suspicions surrounding her parents’ death, and by the time she tells me about the reason that led her to leave her entire life behind to start over somewhere new, I’m barely hanging on to my sanity. Apparently, a forced sexual encounter led to an unplanned pregnancy. And even though the last thing she’d wanted at that point was to start a family with her abuser, she couldn’t help but form an attachment to her unborn child. Well aware that it wasn’t only her life in the balance anymore, but the life of her daughter, she began putting a plan into motion. Secret meetings with her lawyer and bank manager prompted her to direct the funds of her parents’ life insurance money into a separate account. When Jason became suspicious and questioned her strange behavior, they got into their biggest fight yet. A fight that ended with her in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs and losing the baby she’d been so desperate to protect. She was six months pregnant at the time. She’s full-on sobbing when she tells me about the day she finally made her move.
“The second I recovered enough to get out of bed, I ran. I just wish I hadn’t waited so long. If I’d only acted sooner. Maybe I could’ve saved my ba…” Her voice cracks before she can get the last syllable out, and I immediately reach for her hand. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I wait for her to pull herself together enough to finish the rest and try not to falter in the face of her grief. I can barely make out her words when she whispers, “I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Until today.I understand now why the sight of the deceased animal made her lose her composure. It was a clear message meant to terrify her, and the cadaver relayed it perfectly clear—I found you. I’m coming for you. Given all she’s told me, she’s right to be afraid. But there’s one thing Jason failed to take into consideration when he decided to come after Charlie. She’s no longer unprotected. She has me now, and I’m not going anywhere until the threat to her life has been eliminated.
fifteen
Charlie
It feels incredibly freeing to lay it all out for Cole. To confide in someone so capable and simply share the burden. When I saw that poor animal lying lifeless on my front step, I almost fell to my knees in despair. I’ve put on a brave face in a feeble attempt to become someone else. Someone independent and resilient. Someone who isn’t afraid to stand up for herself.
The day I left my abusive relationship, I swore I’d never let a man intimidate or control me again, and I was slowly but surely turning into someone I could be proud of. It took me months to get to where I am now. Losing the daughter I’d come to love so much almost broke me. That, combined with the ever-present fear of Jason finding my location and punishing me for escaping hisiron rule, was almost too much to bear. But the more time passed, the more I let my guard down. A tentative hope began to bloom that I may actually have done it. That I was finally able to live my life the way I saw fit, free of the monster in my past, determined to control my every move.
I should’ve known better. Jason isn’t the type of man who gives up easily. He wouldn’t let someone embarrass him in front of his precious club the way I had, and not respond. And to him, my running for the hills and leaving him without a doting old lady was exactly that. An embarrassment. Jason lives and breathes club life, and retaliation is a big part of who they are.
I’d heard the word thrown around over and over whenever he discussed club matters with his second in command. Jason may have started out as a reluctant participant, but once the MC got their claws into him, he thrived on the power. By the time his dad died, and Jason took over as club president, there was no saving him. Week by week, he became meaner and more violent, and soon enough, his club persona spilled over into our private life.
After he shoved me down the stairs, killing our unborn child—my precious baby girl—in the process, I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d kill me. I had no choice but to sever all ties to my old life and run. I’d seen too much. Heard too much,and you don’t simply leave the president of a notorious MC and live to tell the tale.
Jason never bothered keeping things on the down-low around me. He didn’t take his phone calls in private for fear of my overhearing his shady dealings or making me leave the room when one of the prospects came to our apartment to report to him. He wasn’t worried. He knew I’d keep my mouth shut. And if I ever so much as hinted at going to the cops about any of it, he’d have murdered me in cold blood without a moment’s hesitation.
Jason didn’t love me. I was his property and nothing more. A shiny toy he kept to amuse himself with. A warm body to shove his cock into whenever the need arose, whether I was willing or not. The mere thought of him dragging me back there, so he can continue taking things from me that I’m no longer willing to give, is enough to make me want to scream.
