Somewhere between her humorless laughs and my whispered apology, I’ve realized this club is no longer what she wants. She might need us right now, but that’s only out of the danger hanging over her head.
I think back to the stilted silence that’s been sitting with us for the past hour and a half. I fear it’ll be the same for the next couple hours until I get the clear from Wolf.
I find myself remembering those years where Charlotte’s giggles and loud charm was what enveloped the clubhouse. How—even under Glory’s influence—she had the spark she still carries. It’s only that the spark carries less of her charm now, and more of her rage. Justifiable rage.
The olden memories pile on top of each other now.
Her smiles that had been more hesitant than sultry. Her laugh that carried a hint of hesitation. Her jokes that were followed by her darting gaze, sweeping her audience for validation. For belongingness.
All of it was missed. Ignored. Never acknowledged.
Shame claws at my chest from the devastating realization. Which is probably why the moment I enter the panic room and her gaze lands on me, she immediately goes pale. Her form starts to shake with fear.
“Oh god,” she breathes out shakily. “What happened out there?”
Fuck.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, walking toward her with a steady gait. “Everything is fine. Wolf and Ryder are back. The intruders are taken care of. The lockdown should be lifted in… two hours maybe. They’re sweeping the grounds first. We’re fine.”
She exhales shakily, but I can see the relief washing over her. Nodding, she relaxes, leaning back into the arm chair. The book she was reading is forgotten on her lap.
For the next few minutes, I watch her stare at nothing. Her mind is probably going through whatever she thinks her next steps should be. Every now and then, she sighs with something akin to resignation.
Like even in her mind her plans aren’t working as she’d hope. I can guess how she feels. She hasn’t said it outright, but in so many words, she feels trapped. Who wouldn’t?
A thought shatters through my conscience. For years she wanted to belong here. Now the same place she regarded as her family—is her cage. Albeit temporarily.
I wish I could go back in time and shake some sense into both myself and Wolf. Force ourselves to open our eyes to the plain neglect of a young teen.
“What if…”
My head snaps up to her hesitant yet calculating tone. I wait for her to continue but she shakes her head instead, curbing whatever thought plagues her.
“What is it, Charlotte?” I ask softly.
“Nothing—I just…” She pauses, biting her lower lip. “What if I go back to Craven Ridge?”
No. I want to refuse immediately. Start with my carefully constructed reasoning that she shouldn’t leave the club compound. But this is the new Charlotte.
She’s no longer the club princess who would cower under a few, firmly-framed sentences.
“Why?” I ask. My voice is gentle despite the fear brewing inside me.
“I feel like I brought the whole… they’re… I don’t know,” she says, her shoulders slumping. “I feel like it’s my fault, okay? I don’t want people to get hurt.”
Fucking hell. I shouldn’t have told her about Heath getting shot. So much for transparency, Wolf. Why the hell did I promise the bastard that I won’t hide shit from her?
I sigh, leaning over to rest my elbows on my knees. “It’s not your fault—I need you to know that. Hell’s Army has been after every smaller MC in this area for years. Don’t… don’t put the blame where it doesn’t belong.”
She scoffs lightly, face twisting like she doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth. My whole body locks in tight, thinking of ways to make her understand none of this is her fault. That she was probably just made into another tactic by the Hell’s Army—to simply take over our club.
She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. Her whole body tight with irritation, hurt bleeding through every movement.
I reach out without thinking, covering her hand where it rests on the armrest. “Listen—”
She’s on her feet in a blink. Flinching away like I burned her.
I keep forgetting I’m her trauma. My brain still hasn’t caught up to the fact that even though I’m assigned as her protection detail, she feels far from safe. She probably feels threatened.
