by Anne Conley
She had to end it now. As soon as The Man found out about him, Les would be in danger. Fifteen years ago, he’d threatened Adam. Who’s to say he wouldn’t make do on the threats with Les? He wouldn’t like it. In fact, he’d probably fight her tooth and nail on the issue, but she cared too much about him to let him get dragged into her bullshit drama.
She went downstairs to unlock her business and found a wholly unwelcome site. Justin was sitting on her steps.
“What are you doing here?” She interrupted him staring into the distance with a dreamy look on his face. He jumped up and ran to her, gathering her in his arms.
“I’m so glad you’re finally back. I wanted to take you to breakfast.”
Pushing away from him, “No.”
His eyes reflected hurt, and he asked, “Why not?”
“Because we are not an item, and I’ve told you this.” Why didn’t he understand? Exasperated, she ran her fingers through her hair, realizing it was a trait she’d picked up from spending so much time with Les.
“But we’re so good together!”
She wheeled around on him. “Listen, Justin, and listen carefully. This is the last time I will say this. We. Are. Not. Together. And we never will be. You have to leave now.”
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
If this is what it would take, she’d go for it. “Yes. Les and I started something while we were on our trip.” She still had no idea what it was, but for these purposes, she would run with it. “Les and I have something you and I will never have.” Jeez, was he crying?
A movement over Justin’s shoulder caught her eye and she focused on Les, walking up the steps. He’d heard every word. It was obvious from the upturn of the corners of his mouth, as if he were trying not to smile. Justin hadn’t seen him yet, so he had absolutely no reason to do what he did next, except for insanity.
Justin took two steps toward Charlie, who backed up against the door, and reached for her. Before he could grab her and kiss her, his obvious intent, Les was on him with a snarl.
“Didn’t you just hear what she said? Get the hell out of here.” Dragging him back by the collar, Les tossed him down the steps, surprise etched in Justin’s features. And then his mouth was on Charlie’s, sucking all breathable air from her insides.
He pushed her inside, kissing her fiercely, and turned the lock on the door behind them. His hands were everywhere, and Charlie didn’t know how to stop him, didn’t think she wanted to. She arched into him, pressing her needy breasts against his chest as he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.
“Brought a condom this morning.” Desire flamed inside her at his words, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than him inside her.
“Oh God…” was all she could manage as their hands impatiently ripped at clothing, tossing it haphazardly all over her office. Les toed off his boots and shucked his jeans before lifting her by her rear and leaning her against the door. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, sending a ripple of electricity straight to her core, eliciting a groan from Charlie. “Fuck me, Les. Please.” At least she would know what it was like with Les before she told him goodbye…
Spinning her around, he walked over to her desk, dumping her unceremoniously on the desktop before sinking his mouth back to her skin. She was feverish and impatient, arching her back and trying to slide her heat against him. Finally, she grabbed his hair and tugged, pulling his face up to hers. “Now, Les,” she growled at him.
A low noise sounded from the back of his throat, and he pulled her toward the edge of the desk, propping her feet up on either side of her ass, holding her open to him. He looked at her, squirming under him, and she saw the possessiveness in his features, the longing to own her, it was written all over his face before he spoke his next words.
“You’re mine.” Les’s mouth was a snarl, growling the word, and it reminded her of The Man, saying the same thing to her, reminded her that she really shouldn’t be doing this.
She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t, but with one swift thrust, he was inside her, filling her, and she was rendered speechless. Clawing at his arms, she could only feel him stroking her insides with each feverish thrust, each murmured, ‘mine’ he spoke. His grip on her hips bit into her skin, and she loved every second of it.
She could feel him, rubbing at her interior walls as he thrust in and out of her, each stroke out was an absence she could feel. Then he was back in, filling her completely.
“Oh God, Les!” she cried out as he continued his frenzied thrusting, veins popping out on his forehead and neck. His finger stroked her rosy pearl and Charlie felt her imminent release. She continued to spiral higher, her feverish skin craving his touch everywhere. As if he could read her mind, he reached his other hand to her nipple and squeezed it gently, causing her to come undone.
She shrieked his name and went limp, as Les continued thrusting inside her before finding his own release with a shuddering groan.
He lowered himself to her for a kiss, swirling his tongue around her mouth, leaving her breathless before getting up to remove his condom.
She got dressed, gathering her clothes from the far reaches of the room. “Les, we need to talk.”
He was on her in a heartbeat. “No. We don’t.” He kissed her forcefully, silencing her.
Pushing away, she said, “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You don’t tell a guy that after the first time you’ve had sex with him, Sweetness.” He was trying to joke, but she could see the pain in his eyes, and it hurt her, too. “Besides, I heard what you said to your ex, and it’s true.”
“No, it’s not, Les. I was lying.” Was she? Or was she lying to herself? “Even if I wasn’t, I’m still not sure I can do this.” She gestured between the two of them and watched as Les silently shoved his feet into his jeans.
“Yes, you can. You’re just scared. I understand, although I have no idea what you’re scared of. But I want to try.” He was pleading with her, and Charlie’s heart broke as she uttered her next words.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Les yanked on his boots and shoved his arms into his shirt before speaking again. “Look. There’s only so much a man can say. Eventually, you’ve got to have the faith. Faith in us, Charlie.”
She watched him silently as he buttoned his shirt. “I didn’t come over for this, anyway. I wanted to give you something.” He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and tossed it on the desk. “There’s the money I owe you from the trip. And there’s one more thing.” He stalked out the door, slamming it in his wake. He returned less than a minute later with the stained glass piece she’d been after.
“Where…?”
“I bought it while you were on the phone at the auction. You refused to talk about it every time I brought it up. It wasn’t supposed to be this huge secret, but you were insistent.” He carefully laid it on the desk. “There’s a life lesson in here somewhere, I’m just too upset to talk about it right now.” He kissed her one more time, less forcefully, before storming out the door.
It was a kiss goodbye.
Charlie touched her lips with her finger, idly realizing tears tracked down her cheeks. She heard the diesel rumble in the driveway, and knew she had time to catch him. But her feet wouldn’t move.
What had she done?
Her complete inability to communicate had done this. She had no idea if it was ingrained from experience, or fear, but she didn’t talk about things unless she was forced to. And she didn’t deal with things. Ever. His words about life lessons were hitting her pretty hard right now. And she knew it.
When Adam had rescued her, she’d been diagnosed with a borderline personality disorder. Attention-seeking teenager she was, she had researched the symptoms: irrational and impulsive behavior, severe emotional mood swings, inappropriate sexual behaviors, suicidal tendencies, cutting, extreme relationships. As a teenager, she’d read the list and immediately had a set of rules to follow
to exceed expectations of her from the counselors and doctors at the facility. And then the medication had evened it all out.
She still took most of the medication, but wondered how much of her reactions to Les was due to her fucked-upedness. Was she being unreasonable? Was this something she really could do?
The fact was, Les was exhibiting behavior she hated. He was getting possessive, as displayed by that little claiming ritual he’d just done on her desk. He saw Justin, and immediately went into caveman mode, staking his claim on her in her office. He probably would have done it, even if Justin hadn’t left, just to prove to him that she was his. It was equivalent to whipping it out and pissing all over her to leave his scent, mark his territory.
But wasn’t that all part of the whole relationship thing she said she would try to do with him? She hadn’t really lied to Justin about having something with Les.
In Charlie’s adult life, she’d prided herself in the fact that she’d risen above her circumstances. She’d left the whole victim mentality behind and moved on to become a successful human being. In the last two weeks, she’d succumbed to that mentality again. And she didn’t know why. Everything was all about her past suddenly, everything reminded her of it, it kept coming back. And she couldn’t figure out Les’s role in everything.
She had a sudden urge to talk to somebody, but the only person familiar enough with her past was Adam. And she hadn’t initiated a conversation with him in a decade.
Nope. She needed to figure this out on her own.
Les was right. She was scared. The closeness she felt with Les was terrifying. She wanted to lose herself in him when he was around. She wanted to be someone different around him. She wasn’t herself. Coils of fear wrapped around her at the thought that she wouldn’t be just Charlie anymore. She’d be a part of something else. Something bigger.
Charlie spent the day organizing her purchases and calling Mr. McMannis about his piece. She cleaned it and got it ready for him to pick up on Monday. She put her new flooring and windows away, as well as the staircase. Throughout the day, she continuously looked over her shoulder, watching for anything out of the ordinary, certain The Man was watching her. Waiting. Biding his time.
She busied herself the best she could the next couple of days, doing anything possible to get her mind off The Man, Les and the potential mistake she was making. She looked at the tattoo on her leg a lot in those days, trying desperately to remember why she’d kept it, a reminder of her own fallacies. But the words taunted her with their new meaning. ‘Les is more’ had more meaning for her now than it ever had. Before, it had only been, ‘don’t get high with your tattoo artist before letting him mark you permanently.’ Now it had a face behind it, and she couldn’t get that face out of her mind.
Wednesday evening, she was double-checking the lock on her office door before going over to her home side, when her phone rang.
“Are you wet?”
Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t tell if Les was making fun of her or not.
“Don’t, Les.”
A soft chuckle met her ears, and she thought it sounded good-natured. Relief slowly seeped in.
“I just can’t get over how you thought that was me, calling you like that. I’ve never talked dirty to a woman in my life.”
A smile cracked her face. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“Well, maybe in the heat of the moment, but I’ve never had phone sex, or whatever it’s called.”
His voice over the phone was doing familiar things to her body. Heat coiled inside her core, and she shifted in her seat. It had been days since she’d heard his voice. Before the trip, that was normal. But after spending ten days with him nonstop, and then three days without hearing him at all, well…
He cleared his throat at her silence and continued. “Um, I called to let you know I’d be picking you up at seven on Friday.”
She’d forgotten all about that. On purpose.
“Les, look. I don’t know if that’s a great idea.” She sat at her desk and ceremoniously straightened a stack of already neat papers just to busy her hands.
“You promised me you’d go. I need a date, and the agreement was to see where this went, and go out on Friday.”
“I think we’ve seen this won’t work.” Leaning back in her seat, she sighed inwardly. Charlie knew he was going to break through her defenses. She was so weak against Les.
“You’ve seen something, not me. As far as I’m concerned, until you’re willing to talk to me and tell me what’s going on inside your head, I still get my date.”
She sighed. “Fine. Is it fancy?”
His voice sounded harsh. “Very. And also, I wanted to let you know, just in case you get bored next Saturday night, I’ll be playing at the Gin. I usually do covers and fill in when she’s got an open spot, but Saturday I’ll have some original stuff. You might like it.” The tone of his voice softened as he spoke and left Charlie with a warm gush of emotion flowing through her. She was sure she would like it, but would she have the guts to go?
“We’ll see, Les. I’m not sure I can make it.”
He was quiet, but didn’t hang up the phone. Eventually, she heard a sigh and he said, “I miss you Charlie. I’m sorry if I messed things up.”
Of course he would think he’d done something. “It’s not something you did. I’m fucked up, Les.” She didn’t deserve him. At all. She wished like hell she could get out of Friday, but knew it would hurt him worse to even try. “I’ll see you Friday at seven.”
And now, I’ll only put you in danger. If she never did another selfless thing in her life, she would do this. Les was too damn important to her.
After hanging up with Les, Charlie plodded to her living side of the house for the evening. As soon as she opened the door joining the two sides, she noticed something was wrong. All of the lights were on, and she habitually turned them off in the morning before going to her ‘business’ side. She immediately went to the front door, and saw Justin’s car out front.
Asshole.
She stomped through the rooms, calling for him. “Justin! Come out! I know you’re here.” Not finding him anywhere downstairs, she climbed the staircase to the second floor, getting angrier with each step.
“Just-” Her voice froze in her throat when she came to her bedroom. As soon as she took in the scene before her, she reached for her phone, dialing 911.
Justin was sprawled out in her bed, naked, which wasn’t surprising. She’d found him there like that before on numerous occasions. What surprised her was he was lying in a pool of vomit, and he wasn’t conscious.
“Oh…Justin…You dumbass…” She slapped his cheeks ineffectively before rolling him over to his side. Sweeping her eyes across her bedside table, she saw all of her medications sitting there, some bottles overturned, as if he was looking for the best cocktail. Next to it all was an enormous tequila bottle. Nearly empty.
Chapter 17
A letter to Charlie, eight months ago
I know you, and I have a job for you. There is a motel owner in Serendipity who has made us aware of happenings there. A resident takes girls there. Girls like you used to be. I know you have gone to great lengths to establish a new identity, and will respect that if you get the girls out. If you go to the police, or refuse to cooperate with us, we will expose you to the public. You need this. The girls need you. Take them to the below address. The Refuge will keep them safe.
After a whirlwind of hours at the hospital with Justin, Charlie was finally home, getting ready to go out again. She had changed into her black cargo pants and hoodie, and her knapsack was ready. The phone call this time was different, and Charlie felt unease in her gut. This time, the caller had warned her.
“This one might be different. Our contact sounded odd on the phone. Be careful,” the woman whispered. Usually, almost an hour after each phone call was spent wondering if she knew the woman whose voice traveled down the phone lines to her. She would compare the
voice to every other woman she could remember ever speaking to—therapists, other girls from The Man’s ring, girls she’d been in groups with—but no similarities ever came to her. Tonight, she didn’t waste time trying to figure it out. She was too on edge from her words. Be careful. Charlie had never been warned before.
Charlie had taken the call right after Justin regained consciousness. He’d had his stomach pumped and was on an IV after alcohol poisoning, an overdose on her pills and near death. Charlie didn’t feel guilty about that, but she desperately wanted to talk to him. He had regained consciousness, but wasn’t ready to hear what she needed to say.
She had mixed feelings about this call. Part of her was glad for something to take her out of the hospital, but another part wanted one final conversation with Justin. He wasn’t really in a position to hear her, though. So she left it, and went home to get ready, tendrils of anxiety prickling her spine.
Grabbing her knapsack, Charlie left the house to go to the motel. She parked her truck, noticing the exterior looked the same as it always did: dark and quiet. As she always did, she ran through the possibilities in her mind before she got out of her truck. What could happen if a man was in there, protecting his property, how she would protect herself and the girl? What could happen if it was a John? What might she do if the girl was unwilling to come along with her?
In front of the motel door, Charlie took a cleansing breath, clearing her mind of everything besides what she needed to do. Palming the master key card she’d been given months ago, she armed herself with a large pocket knife, blade extended. Then she double-checked her hoodie pocket for her pepper spray. Satisfied she was as prepared as she could be, she twisted the knob of the door and slipped inside silently. The caller had said to be careful.
