“What time is the party we’re going to?” I keep my voice steady, but on the inside my stomach churns and bile rises up my throat. I taste bitterness and despair and sorrow.
Charlie nods and the other guy leaves my mom alone.
“Good choice. Be ready at eight tonight.”
They leave. I walk backward until my back slouches against the cold wall. My mom gets a drink. There’s no thank-you, no apologies, no words from her. Instead of lifting the cup into which she just poured hard liquor, she lifts the whole bottle to her lips. She’ll forget this incident in about fifteen minutes, tops. I, however, am left with the consequences of my so-called choices.
* * *
I’m a nervous mess by the time Charlie shows up to pick me up in his Ford truck. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe a flashy car or a limo? I’d say he doesn’t want to draw attention. He looks so… normal, like an average man who’s about to go on a date. But his cold-blooded eyes are not average.
When we arrive at the house, he takes my hand and holds it tight, probably sensing my hesitation to walk inside. There’s nothing wrong with this old creaky place—except that it reminds me of a haunted house where ghosts are about to greet us, instead of drunk people.
And there’s nothing wrong with the crowd inside, dancing and drinking—except that most of them are inhaling stuff into their noses and exchanging small bags of the same.
My senses are on high alert. I shiver, but Charlie doesn’t notice. What have I gotten myself into?
I don’t belong here. But then, where do I belong?
A few guys ogle me while Charlie is searching for alcohol in the kitchen, tugging me by my hand again. My perv-o-meter is on high alert here. Charlie’s gulping down booze like an Olympic champion, even faster than what my mom can do.
An hour later, he’s trashed and I’m hoping he’ll let me drive his truck back so we can leave. Instead he squeezes my hand even tighter and pulls me up the stairs. His hold on me is so rough that I know I’ll have bruises around my wrist. Even now when he’s drunk, my slender body is no match against his. He shoves me into the first room he opens. Tripping over the faded carpet, I turn to face him.
“Charlie, you don’t have to do this. Please,” I beg and swallow what’s left of my pride. “Maybe we should get to know each other better first.” I stall, knowing there’s a minuscule chance it’ll work, but I’ll try anything.
I can’t bring myself to… give in to this man.
I can’t.
The cost is too high. What was I thinking? The realization that I can’t have sex with Charlie hits me as if a bus ran me over. The nausea makes its way up my throat, and I swallow hard.
If I didn’t know who he was and what he did for a living, I’d say he was handsome. His face is long and his nose is straight.
But his eyes betray his looks. Dark. Ominous. Soulless.
He tilts his head in amusement.
“How old are you?” I keep rambling. “What’s your family like?” I mentally curse myself and feel like a total idiot.
He steps close to me and pushes my shoulders. Hard. I fly backward with no chance to regain my balance, anticipating my head hitting the floor, but instead, my back hits a soft mattress.Whoosh. All the air is punched out of my lungs.
No. No. No.
He sits next to me on the bed, shoulders slumped and head bowed. His lips are parted and he’s staring at the floor. Charlie’s mood swings are baffling and spike my anxiety.
“I’m twenty-five. And my dad is a cop.”
My body temperature just dropped by ten degrees.
“Family,” he scoffs. “I don’t know what it means. My dad got his high school sweetheart pregnant at prom. He was her first love, first everything. She had big plans to go to college and have a career but it didn’t happen for her. She went into postpartum depression soon after I was born. Became addicted to pills. A drug addict.”
Charlie turns his face to me, and all I see in his eyes is pain.
“I was the catalyst to her downfall.”
Even though I have the knowledge that he wants to hurt me, at this moment I feel his pain. I feel sorry for him.
“She died from an overdose when I was ten. By then Dad was already out of the police academy and working as a cop. He didn’t deal with Mom’s death very well. His life became all about his job. He was a lousy father. Cop came first, father came second. I was ambitious and got together with therightpeople. And look at me now.”
