Charlie’s expression darkened.
“Go on,” I replied for him.
“Thomas has been looking into Jennifer. He asked me to be very specific about how I worded this. He has evidence. Enough to go to the police. He told me you’d know what he meant.”
I reached for Charlie’s hand, but he pulled back, his face pale as he stared at the floor.
“Thanks, Jarrid. Leave that with us, and I’ll give you a call later,” I told him.
Jarrid pushed up from the chair, nodding as he moved to leave.
“No,” Charlie yelled.
I turned to look at him. He was standing now, his jaw tense as he stared at Jarrid.
“Jennifer raped me. When I was a teenager. Are you telling me he has evidence of that… real evidence? That I can go to the police with?”
Jarrid’s face softened for a second, but then he obviously realized he was about to pity Charlie and that wasn’t what he needed.
“Like I said, he didn’t give me details, but if he says he has evidence, then he will have it. The man doesn’t mess about with his words.”
Charlie looked to me and then back at Jarrid. “Can you double check? And then if he has, I want to leave today. I want to press charges. I want her arrested for what she did to me.”
I couldn’t contain the glee I felt, clapping my hands together.
“Let me check with Thomas and then let’s get you both out of here.”
Chapter 42
Charlie
We stepped out of the police station, Fern on one side, Dawson and Matt on the other, with Thomas behind us. I felt sick… exhausted and sick. I’d spent hours in there, telling them about every time she touched me that I could remember, every text she’d sent, every time she’d crawled into my bed in the middle of the night. Outside and feeling exposed, I tried to ignore the flashing cameras and the shouts of reporters who crowded around.
“Have you been arrested, Charlie?”
“What for?”
“Does it have anything to do with your dad’s wife?”
I tensed, about to lose it, and lunge for the fuckers, but a hand landed on my shoulder. “Don’t give them the satisfaction. Keep walking,” Matt murmured in my ear.
Fern brushed her hand against mine and I grabbed it needily, desperate not to lose my shit in front of the world’s press.
“You’ve got this, Myth Maker. Let’s get back to the car.”
I just nodded, letting these people protect me, hating that I felt like I couldn’t protect myself.
When we reached the car, Thomas shook my hand, turning his back to the photographers, shielding me from their lenses, but also hiding himself so he could talk freely.
“You did good. Go home, take some time… today has been a lot. Matt has the number of a therapist. He’s good. Talk to him.”
“Thank you, Thomas. For everything.”
He winked before kissing Fern on the cheek and shaking Matt and Dawson’s hands, then he left and we climbed into the car. Matt and Fern sat on either side of me, leaving me trapped in the middle.
“I’m not going to run, you know.”
Matt rolled his eyes at me. “Seatbelt.”
