“Trying to figure out a way to get this dude out of here before anyone realizes you were escaping.” He inspects the bathroom door next, removing the key and curling my hand around it. “Leave the window unlocked, but lock the door from the outside after I’m gone. That way, if he wakes before I get to him, he can’t get out.”
“But he could make enough noise to draw attention.”
Charlie draws the shower curtain back, removing a length of rope from the inside of his jacket pocket. I arch a brow. “I never leave home without it,” he quips, and I wonder if his humor is an attempt to deflect the truth of that statement.
He ties Wyatt’s hands and feet with the rope and stuffs a handkerchief in his mouth.
“What if he chokes?” I ask, chewing on the inside of my mouth.
“Do you honestly care?” He stands, moving to the sink.
“He’s an idiot ruled by his dick, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die,” I supply, watching as Charlie clinically washes and dries his hands.
“He can breathe through his nose.” He kisses my brow, before hauling me out into the main room. “And he’ll be gone before you know it.” He holds my face in his palms, looking like he wants to say more. “Get some sleep, and I’ll see you Sunday.”
He blows me a kiss, before pulling the door shut behind him, and I stand rooted to the spot, wondering what the hell Charlie is up to, because there’s zero doubt in my mind that he’s playing some game.
And I’m suspecting I may be the prize.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I expect you to behave yourself and do everything Charles says,” the bastard tells me, digging his nails into my shoulders as we wait on the front steps for Charlie on Sunday afternoon. He’s gone to collect the car he hired for the thirty-hour drive home.
Go fuck yourself.
“Of course, Father.” I smile up at him, saying what he needs to hear. “This differs from Trent. I hated him, but I love Charlie. I’m not unhappy about this. At all,” I lie.
The bastard nods as he takes a long puff of his cigar. “That pleases me, Abigail. Perhaps there’s still hope for you.” He flicks the cigar away, digging his nails even farther into my skin in a way I know will leave marks. His eyes narrow to slits as he leans into my face. “But if you’re lying. If you’re playing me. There will be hell to pay.”
“I’m not,” I lie. “I didn’t want to marry Trent, but I’m looking forward to marrying Charlie.” My insides twist painfully as more lies darken my soul.
“And what of Kaiden Anderson?”
This time I don’t have to lie. My lips pull into a snarl, and my hands ball into fists as I unleash the anger bottled up inside me. “I hate that manipulative bastard, and I hope he rots in hell.”
My response pleases him. He pats me on the head. “Good girl, Abigail.”
Patronizing prick.
Charlie chooses that appropriate moment to arrive, pulling up in a top-of-the-line, blacked-out Land Rover. I have no bag, so I skip down the steps and slide into the passenger seat. To keep up appearances, I lean over and kiss him on the mouth. He winds his hand in my hair, drawing me closer and deepening the kiss.
It’s not a chore kissing Charlie, but I don’t want him getting the wrong idea, so I subtly pinch his thigh, and he breaks the kiss before it turns too intense.
“You two lovebirds have a good trip,” the bastard says, sticking his cosmetically altered hideous face in Charlie’s window. “And I want you to check in with me the minute you arrive back in Rydeville, son. Mrs. Banks will pack up Abigail’s things, and I’ll have them delivered to your house.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll take good care of her.”
“Not too good.” The bastard smirks, looking over Charlie’s head at me. “You let your fiancé do whatever he wants to your body. He owns it. Not you.”
“Like I said, Daddy. This is different.” My tone is elevated as I’m losing control of my tenuous emotions.
“We’ll see you Tuesday, sir.” Charlie floors it the instant the bastard steps away, and the brakes squeal as we hightail it down the driveway at speed.
“I want to kill that fucking bastard for the way he speaks to you and about you,” he seethes.
“Get in line,” I reply, glancing out the window. “And death would be too easy for him. I want to make him suffer.”
“You have a plan?” he asks, slowing down the engine as we reach the entrance gates.
“It’s a work in progress.”
The gates open, and Charlie pulls the car out onto the road, and I’m free of that hellhole.
“We need to coordinate,” he adds, casting a quick glance at me.
“Who’s we?”
“Me, Drew, and Xavier.”
I pull my knees up to my chest, wishing I had different clothes. Anything but this fucking uniform. “Hold that thought,” I say, looking into the back seat, eyeing up Charlie’s bag. “Do you have anything I can change into?”
“I’ve a couple of T-shirts and some sweats.”
I climb into the back, rummaging in his duffel bag and removing a Ramones’ tee. “I didn’t know you were into the Ramones?” I say, stripping out of the uniform.
Charlie’s gaze meets mine momentarily through the mirror. “It was a present from Lil.”
“I didn’t know your sister was into punk rock, and isn’t she a little young?”
“She’s fourteen and going through a phase.” He turns right onto the highway. “Or at least I hope it’s a phase.”
I climb back into the front wearing the shirt. It’s long enough to pass as a shirt dress. Charlie’s eyes lower to my thighs for a fleeting second. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I ask, eyeballing him.
“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 forgott
en 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.”
“Does Drew 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.
“At Parkhurst,” I surmise.
“Partly.”
“And you’re still not going to tell me, are you?”
He slants pleading eyes on me. “Abby. We can’t tell you, and it’s better you don’t know. It would change how you feel about all of us.”
That may well be the case, but I’m sick of all this protective bullshit. “I’m sick of all the lies and secrets, Charlie!” I roar, throwing my hands up. “All it does is blindside me! I can’t defend myself if I don’t know the full truth.”
He glances sideways at me as he takes the next exit. “You don’t need to defend yourself. We’ll keep you safe. Nothing like this is ever going to happen to you again.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I explode, yelling at him. “None of you have kept me safe! The only one looking out for me is me.” I pound my fists on the dash out of sheer frustration and rage.
“That isn’t true.” He stretches his hand across the console, settling it on my thigh.
I slap his hand away. “Don’t placate me, Charlie. Don’t insult my intelligence.”
His jaw locks up tight, and tension filters into the air again.
I’m so sick of this shit.
Of living this life.
And my previous determination to escape has strengthened in recent months.
I need to get away from Rydeville. To start over somewhere else.
“We will keep you safe,” he grits out after a few tense minutes.
Resting my head back, I close my eyes, knowing there’s no point continuing this fight. He will not tell me anything. “You can’t promise me that,” I say, opening my eyes a couple minutes later. “None of you can. Not while that bastard is still in control. Not while he’s still breathing.”
“He won’t be in control for much longer.”
“How?” I sit upright again.
“Drew is doing what he needs to, to win back your father’s trust, and now that Jane’s gone, there are no limitations to what he can do to ensure that happens. And—”
I swivel in my seat. “Back up there! Jane’s gone?” My eyes splay wide. “Gone where? And why?” I splutter.
Charlie slows the car down, taking the turn for a place named Loth’s End. “Drew will tell you more, but he went to her father after the shootout and told him to take the family far away from Rydeville. They left the next day.”
My mouth hangs open. “But we know where she is, right? I can still get in contact with her?”
Charlie shakes his head, drawing to a halt alongside a curb. “That would defeat the purpose. Drew did what he had to do to keep Jane safe.”
“But he loves her! They are so much in love.” I can’t believe this.
“I know, and it’s killing him. He’s—” He sighs, scrubbing a hand across his smooth jawline. “He’s not in a good way, Abby. Losing you and Jane is bad enough, but the things he has to do to keep your father and Trent from guessing his true allegiance are destroying his spirit. We both know Trent won’t let this go. You humiliated him, and he’s a fucking psycho, so Drew’s sticking close to him to ensure he doesn’t get to you.” He pins troubled eyes on me. “But I’m worried about him. About his ability to pull this off and not lose himself.”
“Now you’re scaring me.” Drew is still on my shit list because he stood by and did nothing while they assaulted me but he played no part in the crap that went down at the engagement party, and if he pushed Jane away, then I know there is tons he hasn’t told me.
Charlie takes my hand in his. “He needs you. I know he failed you, which is something he won’t ever stop beating himself up over, but he’s been trying to protect you behind the scenes for a long time, and intervening would’ve jeopardized everything.”
“Maybe if he’d told me what he’s doing I would understand, but everyone thinks they need to keep me in the dark for my protection,” I hiss.
Charlie grips my head, drilling me with somber eyes. “It is for your protection, Abby, and one day we’ll admit everything, but for now, just believe that we are all working to keep you safe.”
“That’s a big ask. Especially when I know you’ve all lied to me and betrayed me in some shape or form. How am I supposed to trust anyone after that?”
“You have known me your entire life, and your brother would take a bullet for you. I don’t know Xavier all that well, but he genuinely seems to care about you too. You can trust us.”
“And what about the new elite?” I croak, summoning the courage to ask about them. “Where are they? And do you trust them?”
“They’re gone, and no,” he says through gritted teeth. “I don’t trust any of those fuckers.”
“Gone where?” I ask, hating how my heart thumps painfully at the news.
He shrugs. “Into hiding. Your father and Christian Montgomery have filed legal and criminal complaints, and the cops are looking for them. Seven men lost their lives during the shootout, and the authorities are looking for someone to blame. There are warrants out for their arrest.”
I shake my head. “That figures.” I rub a tense spot between my brows. “How are we ever going to get justice when that bastard has everyone in his back pocket?”
“There are ways,” he cryptically says, pulling out his cell while looking behind me.
“What are you doing?” I inquire, swiveling in my seat and inspecting the clothing store we’ve pulled up in front of.
“Calling the store owners to see if a little cash incentive will get them to open up for you. I’d have brought you stuff from home, but everything happened at the last minute and there wasn’t time.”
An hour later and I’m browsing the aisles in the store alone, while Charlie makes some calls from the car. Cash incentives work—especially in small towns where there is little passing trade. I select some jeans, a shirt, sweater, socks, pajamas, and underwear in my size, dumping them on the counter for the clerk to ring up, and then I head to the cosmetics section and grab what I need.
While I’m paying for everything with Charlie’s card, I try to bribe the cashier into loaning me her cell on the sly, so I can call Xavier, but she adamantly refuses.
I don’t know what Charlie said or did to make her comply, but I give up trying to persuade her when it’s obvious she won’t be swayed.
So much for hos before bros.
The bitch won’t even tell me where the nearest payphone is.
I use the bathroom to change into my new outfit and freshen up before leaving the store. Cha
rlie is lounging against the wall with a smile on his face. He takes my hand. “You look beautiful.”
“I’m only wearing jeans.” I arch a brow.
“It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. Your beauty shines from within.”
I’m about to make a gagging sound when I notice the sincerity in his eyes, and I clamp my mouth shut. Shit. Does Charlie have feelings for me? Because if he does, we’ve got a major problem.
I’ve always adored Charlie, and even though I’m wary of him now—because he’s still holding out on me—he rescued me from that hellhole, and I know he’s genuinely doing what he believes is in my best interests.
I love him but not like that.
Even if he is an amazing kisser and there is some shared chemistry.
“Thanks,” I murmur, keeping my thoughts to myself because I’m not ready to get into that conversation. Not with a long-ass trip ahead of us. But it is something we must discuss sooner than later.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, swinging our hands together as we walk in the opposite direction of the car. “I found a nice little restaurant a couple blocks down, and they’re holding a table for us.”
“I could eat. Weeks of enduring that shit they call food has left me dying for something tasty.”
“How is Xavier?” I ask when we are seated at a cozy table in the corner of the Italian restaurant. “I thought he would’ve found me.”
“We all knew where you were, Abby, but we couldn’t just storm in and rescue you. Not without consequences.”
A massive grin graces his mouth. “Although, we had to chain Xavier up for a while until he got that message.”
My jaw hangs open. “Please tell me that’s a joke?”
He shakes his head. “Drew and I took turns babysitting him. He kept promising he wouldn’t go after you, but as soon as we’d let him go, he’d take off.” He chuckles. “Drew went apeshit on his ass, and we had to go hardcore to get him to cooperate, but he finally understood.” His humor dies.
My heart soars for the first time in ages. “I knew there had to be a reason he hadn’t come for me.”
Twisted Betrayal Page 4
