“Like what?” He feigns innocence.
“This isn’t real.” I point between us. “You know that, right?”
Silence engulfs us for a few beats before he clears his throat. “You know we’ll probably have to get married. It’s the safest way to keep your father off your back.”
“We have six months to figure out a solution. No offense, but I don’t want to marry you.”
A muscle clenches in his jaw, and awkward tension fills the air.
“I thought you had questions,” he says, after a while, and I latch onto the lifeline with both hands.
“What happened to Oscar?” I whisper, my lip wobbling as I force bile back down my throat. I remember hearing the gunshot the night we were fleeing. And now that I know it was Louis who took me, I’m terrified for the bodyguard who is more like my father than my father.
Charlie grips the steering wheel tight. “Maybe we should wait for questions and answers until we’ve stopped someplace.”
A sob bursts free of my chest. “Please don’t say he’s dead!” Tears roll freely down my cheeks. “Please don’t say I got him killed too!”
He reaches out, rubbing my bare thigh, clearly conflicted. He sighs, glancing at a signpost up ahead. “He’s not dead, babe. But he is in a coma.” He watches my reaction carefully.
“Is he going to make it?”
“I don’t know, but he’s got the best of care. He’s in good hands, and all we can do is pray he comes through.”
“What about his family?”
“Drew is taking care of it,” he says, removing his hand from my thigh and returning it to the wheel.
“Why didn’t my brother come to see me?”
Charlie puts the car into cruise control and looks at me. “At first, it was because of his injuries, and we didn’t know where you were, although we suspected he’d sent you to Parkhurst.”
“My father hurt Drew?” I guess.
He bobs his head. “Your father beat the crap out of him after Atticus revealed his involvement in the safe heist. Drew fought back initially so your father had his goons strip him naked and tie him to a chair, and he let them all go at him.” He sighs. “It’s a miracle he didn’t kill him.”
Nausea churns in my gut. I haven’t forgotten the beating I endured at my father’s hands, and it was probably much worse for Drew. That bastard would want to kill him for his so-called betrayal, but he would never let it get that far, because he needs him. “How did Drew wrangle his way back into my father’s good books?”
“Drew convinced him he was double-crossing the new elite, and it was his way of protecting the contents of the safe, until they went rogue.”
My brows climb to my hairline. “And my father believes that?”
“Drew told him he recorded the theft on his cell and he was waiting until he uncovered where they stashed the paperwork before handing it and the video over to the authorities.”
“DoesDrew have a recording?” I ask, because it wouldn’t surprise me. It’s the usual M.O. with the elite.
“He did, but his cell got smashed up during the shootout, and he didn’t have a backup.”
“I bet that made Father suspicious.”
Charlie shrugs, keeping one eye on the road. “The jury’s still out, but he’s giving Drew the benefit of the doubt.”
“Because he’s his heir.”
“There’s more to it.” Charlie white-knuckles the steering wheel again. “I know you think your life has been shit, and that your father has treated you like crap, but it’s nothing compared to what Drew’s endured.”
My spine turns rigid with tension. “What exactly does that mean?”
“We’ve seen more violence and depravity than you could ever imagine,” he admits.
