“No.” The word came out fast and a bit louder than I’d intended. She canted her head and regarded me with a tiny smile.
“No?”
“No. I don’t want you to go. Ever,” I added quickly. I grabbed the back of her chair and turned it to mirror mine so that we faced each other with our knees touching. “I don’t want this to just be the place you’re staying for the moment. This is your home.”
Her smile was getting bigger, and I took that to be a good sign. When she spoke, her voice was soft and her eyes a bit glassy.
“You’re my home.”
“And you’re mine, Angel,” I grinned, taking both her hands in mine. Charlotte gave a breathy sort of laugh and nodded.
“But don’t you think we’ve done all of this a little out of order? Not to mention really fast?”
“Who’s to say what’s the right order or the right speed? Maybe we’re a bit unconventional, but it works for us. I love you. And this place feels more like home with you in it than it ever did before we met.”
We leaned toward each other and kissed slowly, savoring the perfect moment as visions of sharing a home with her danced through my mind. Cooking meals together, seeing her clothes hang next to mine in the closet, brushing our teeth side-by-side before bed… Waking her with a kiss every morning and falling asleep in her arms every night. Perfection.
“Please stay,” I murmured against her lips. Charlotte began to giggle and pulled back to smile at me with so much love in her beautiful brown eyes that it left me breathless.
“Okay.” She said it with a shrug, and I laughed.
“Okay? That’s it?”
“What, you want me to spit shake on it? I’m just glad you didn’t try to withhold any orgasms this time,” she teased. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”
“For good?” I was still smiling, but she heard the determination in my voice, and her laughter quieted. Her expression became more intent as she nodded.
“For as long as you want me here.”
Thank God. I breathed a sigh of relief and caught her in another kiss, this time wrapping my arms around her waist and lifting her completely off the stool. She started giggling again as I spun us in a circle.
We made love slowly, almost lazily, and Charlotte was the first to fall asleep. Her mood had clearly improved, but I knew she was still drained from the day’s events. I expected to doze off too, but the longer I lay there in the darkness, the more elusive sleep became. My mind was spinning in circles of endless speculation. While I was thrilled and relieved that my angel had agreed to stay with me permanently, we still had a big problem.
And its name was Brent Sullivan.
How long had he been watching her? Since he’d lost his job at the restaurant? Longer, even? Had he followed her closely enough to realize she’d been homeless?
Of course, I had followed her too, but I’d like to think my honorable intentions canceled out any hypocrisy on my part. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out the reality of Charlotte’s situation, and I doubted Sullivan could have remained clueless if he’d followed her from the shelter as I had. But if he’d known, wouldn’t he have said something to her about it? Or approached her when she was alone and vulnerable? A brief wave of nausea passed through me at the thought of Sullivan taking that bat to one of her windows while she was sleeping inside.
If that motherfucker lays a hand on her again, it’ll be over my dead body.
Twenty-Three
Eli
I suppose I should count myself lucky that, despite having spent most of my life in the Tampa area, this was the first time I’d ever needed to visit the municipal police headquarters. Of course, I’d driven by it many times, especially since moving downtown, and I’d always thought it looked a bit like something out of a movie. At first glance, it appeared to be a typical office building, but a closer look made you realize that not even the police were immune to the city’s tourist-trap ambience. A small portion of the first floor was even set aside as a museum for the Tampa PD. In a city like this, you could find something for everyone.
We’d gone to Chance Encounters early that morning to meet my brother-in-law and get the security cam footage he’d been holding onto for the past month. Donovan had been stunned to hear about the window incident, and he’d immediately offered to make his own formal statement to the police if necessary.
Luckily, we didn’t have to wait long to speak with one of the officers who had worked with us the night before. Officer Hutchison called us back to his desk, which was set up in a bullpen sort of area. He was a young guy, probably in his late twenties and fairly fresh out of the academy, but he seemed confident in his job. Hutchison looked and sounded like the ambitious type, with his eye always on his next five promotions and a devotion to following the rules.
“Sullivan was arrested last night, and he’s set to be arraigned this afternoon. But if you’re planning to file any other charges, we might be able to push that out to tomorrow morning,” he explained, speaking more to Charlotte than to me.
“I want to file an assault charge, and we have video evidence of that as well,” she replied soberly, taking the DVD Donovan had given us out of her purse. He reached for it and frowned at the date inscribed on it in permanent marker
“This took place a month ago?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you report it then?” he asked. His tone was slightly accusatory as he clicked through a few screens on his police-issue laptop and inserted the disc into the drive. Charlotte looked guiltily down at her lap, and I reached over to take her hand, giving the cop an irritable glare he didn’t even see.
“It happened at the restaurant where I used to work. He lost his job over it, so at the time, I thought the situation was resolved well enough. That maybe he’d been punished enough for his behavior. In that industry, a mark like that on your reputation can break you, especially when someone like Donovan West is the one to put it there.”
“Mr. West is the owner? At…” Hutchison paused, glancing at the inscription on the DVD jewel case, “Chance Encounters?”
“Yes. He’s also the head chef,” she confirmed.
“All right. Let’s see what evidence we’ve got, then.”
He clicked the mouse a few more times and made the video full screen, turning his laptop so we could all see it. Neither Charlotte nor I had been able to watch it yet, but Donovan had taken the time to compile the relevant footage from the kitchen and the employee-designated portion of the parking lot. As with the parking garage footage from last night, there was no sound, and the image was in black and white.
The video started in the kitchen, and I watched with mounting anger as Sullivan followed Charlotte too closely out of the small manager’s office.
“Pause it, please,” I said quickly, remembering what Donovan had told me about the missing footage. Hutchison did as I asked and looked at me expectantly. “Donovan said Sullivan had figured out how to turn off the camera in the office before she got there. He probably never intended to let her out of there without…”
I couldn’t say the rest of the words out loud, and Charlotte squeezed my hand before taking over.
“He was in the office when I got there and tried to corner me inside, but I was able to get out.”
“Did he actually touch you?” Hutchison asked.
“He grabbed my hips and tried to pull me toward him, but I pushed him away. I got myself out the door and into the kitchen, but he followed me,” she explained, pointing to the screen.
Hutchison nodded and started the video again. Sullivan moved around Charlotte to pick up a large box from the floor, his smirking lips moving with words I was probably better off not hearing. Charlotte was shaking her head and actually tried to wrestle the box away from him, but Sullivan said something else that made her stop arguing. She shook her head again and left the kitchen with Sullivan close behind.
Unfortunately, the footage from the parking lot camera wasn’t as c
lear. Of course, the whole scene was still branded in my memory in perfect detail, but I watched the video anyway, trying to see it the way an objective party would. It showed Charlotte and Sullivan walking out to her car and him putting the box in her trunk while she tried to unlock the door. He moved quickly, trapping her against the side of her car before she could get inside, but the camera angle didn’t show much more. The car had blocked the view, preventing the camera from capturing the way he’d grabbed her. The vantage wasn’t close enough to even show Sullivan’s face in much detail, and without the previous footage from the kitchen, it would’ve been hard for someone to ID him.
I glanced at Charlotte to see how she was coping and was surprised to see the ghost of a smile on her lips as she watched the next part of the video. Me, of course. Slamming my fist into Sullivan’s jaw.
“Who is that?” Hutchison asked, squinting at the screen.
“Me,” I answered. He looked at me in surprise and pursed his lips in chagrin.
The rest of the video played out silently, showing Sullivan shuffling back into the building with his hand covering his face. When the screen went black, Hutchison sat back in his chair and stared at us thoughtfully.
“Okay, so there are a few things to consider here, and I’m just going to be straight with you,” he began, looking a bit grim. Well, that doesn’t sound good. “The kitchen video is clear enough to be admissible, but it doesn’t show Sullivan doing anything illegal. It’s really nothing but context for the parking lot footage, to help ID both the assailant and the victim, because that video isn’t clear enough to stand on its own. It also doesn’t show the full details of the event, so that increases the chance that the judge may not even accept it as evidence.
“Now, we can take both videos into evidence and see what the judge makes of it, but I’ll warn you that it may be a double-edged sword. If the judge refuses to accept it, then all we have to go on is your word, Ms. Douglas, and Mr. Brighton’s testimony. Since he’s your current romantic partner, he’s a biased witness, and there’s a chance the judge would throw it out altogether. Unless you know of anyone else who might have witnessed the incident?”
“No,” Charlotte sighed, closing her eyes in disappointment.
“You’re saying even with video evidence, it could all come down to he-said, she-said?” I asked angrily. “That’s bullshit.”
“That’s the way it works,” Charlotte said glumly. “Innocent until proven guilty means the law is predisposed to assume the victim is lying.”
“We don’t like to phrase it quite like that, but unfortunately, Ms. Douglas is correct,” Hutchison replied with an apologetic expression.
Fucking bullshit.
“You said that’s if the judge decides it isn’t solid enough evidence. What if he decides to accept it?” I pressed.
“Then, it would be taken as evidence not only of Mr. Sullivan’s assault on Ms. Douglas but of your assault on Mr. Sullivan. That video shows your intervention in far more detail than anything he may have done to Ms. Douglas. He would have grounds to file charges of his own.”
“You mean Eli could end up in jail for stopping a sexual assault?”
“I’d like to say no, but… I’ve seen it happen, ma’am.”
Hutchison pursed his lips ruefully as Charlotte and I sat in silence, considering everything he’d told us. I was beyond pissed that this fucker might just get away with what he’d done to my angel. Where was the fucking justice?
I’d never been one to bury my head in the sand about the kind of society we lived in, but I’d also never been so close to a situation like this. I’d heard all of the buzzwords before. Rape culture... Victim-blaming… But I’d never truly grasped the reality of it. No wonder Charlotte had been afraid to report Sullivan’s behavior. She’d been the target of sexual harassment and assault, but the odds were stacked against her right from the very beginning. Even with a witness and recorded proof of her claims, there was a fair chance Sullivan would get away with it anyway. How many victims had no proof or witnesses at all? People just like her, whose experiences were even worse but still went without justice?
“I don’t want to press charges.”
Charlotte’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked at her in shock.
“Angel, what judge is really going to punish me for coming to a victim’s defense? For trying to stop a crime?”
“No, Eli. I’m not taking the chance. You heard him,” she gestured to Hutchison. “That’s how it should work, but it doesn’t always play out like that. Not every judge will see it that way.”
“I don’t care if—”
“No. I refuse to take the chance of you ending up in jail over this. You have a company to run and employees who rely on you for their livelihood. You’re already dealing with a crime scene in your parking garage because of me. I will not be the cause of more problems for you.”
“Charlotte, you aren’t the cause of any of it. It’s Sullivan, all of it. And if handing in that evidence means he gets what’s coming to him, then that’s what we should do.”
“You’re not going to change my mind,” she shook her head stubbornly. We stared one another down for a few moments, but I didn’t see an ounce of surrender in her dark eyes.
“In that case,” Hutchison replied soberly, “Mr. Sullivan will most likely be released on bail this afternoon. We can put a protective order in place, which includes a no-contact order. If he shows up anywhere and you feel threatened, you should call 9-1-1 immediately. I’d also advise carrying some pepper spray just in case, especially if you’re going to be anywhere alone, Ms. Douglas.”
Oh, she won’t be alone, I thought. I’d make sure of that. Already, my mind was formulating new ways to keep her safe. I couldn’t be with her all the time, but I could make sure someone was. I’d have someone from security walk her to and from her vehicle when I wasn’t with her, both at home and at work. I planned to talk to the director at her mother’s new care facility too. I knew there was a security system for the building, but I had no idea if their parking lot was covered as well. That was something we hadn’t been overly concerned with when vetting the place. Other than that, I’d just make sure I went with her everywhere. Or that someone did.
Kennedy and Donovan might be willing to help out now and then. Buddy system and all that…
“Are you upset with me for not pressing charges?”
Once again, my angel’s voice had me blinking back to awareness. We were back in my car now, heading into work to start our days a little later than usual. She was watching me brood from the passenger seat with a hesitant expression.
“No,” I replied truthfully. “I understand your logic and respect your decision. I don’t like it, but I’m not angry. Honestly, I can’t imagine you ever doing anything that would make me angry with you.”
“Then what are you thinking about? Because the look on your face makes me think you’re contemplating murder. You’d better do something about that before we get to work and your employees run for cover at the sight of you.”
The teasing note in her voice made me smile despite my foul mood. In reality, she wasn’t that far off on the nature of my thoughts, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“I was just thinking about what measures we can take to make sure you’re safe. I want security escorting you to and from your car when I’m not with you. That goes for the apartment building too. I can work it out with the super.”
“No,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “At work, maybe. Since he got in there once and could probably do it again. But at the apartment, he’d need a code to get in the garage.”
“To drive in, yes. The gate is coded, but nothing stops him from walking in around it. There’s supposed to be an attendant at all times, but I’ve seen that booth empty more than once. And Sullivan probably knows you live there now if he’s been following you as long as we think. I’m not taking any chances.”
Charlotte groaned in exasperatio
n and made a face that reminded me of an angry kitten. She was so tiny that even her irritation was somehow adorable, though I was pretty sure she wouldn’t have appreciated hearing that. I stifled the urge to smile and focused on what she was saying.
“It’s ridiculous. I don’t need chaperones just to walk through a parking garage. I’m a grown woman.”
“A very small grown woman,” I couldn’t help clarifying. She scowled at me.
“I bought some pepper spray when I first started sleeping in my car. I kept it in the glove box, but I’ll start carrying it with me all the time. I won’t hesitate to use it on him if he comes anywhere near me. He’d be violating a restraining order, so I’d be completely within my rights to use it. Asshole’s just lucky I’m not the gun type.”
Lord, she was stubborn. But her feistiness was as frustrating as it was sexy. I sighed and decided to try a different tactic.
“Okay… Let’s compromise. At home, you only have an escort if you’re alone and it’s after dark.”
“Deal,” she agreed with surprising ease.
“At work, you make sure someone is always with you no matter what time it is. Sullivan vandalized your car in the middle of the afternoon.”
“But that’s not really necessary. I hardly ever go down to my car in the middle of the day. When I come and go, it’s almost always when everyone else is doing the same, so there are a lot of people around,” she argued.
I sighed, wishing I hadn’t skipped my morning coffee. Donovan had once described Charlotte as being very persuasive when it suited her. That was for damn sure.
“Okay, then… You can go without the security escort when other people are around. If you let me switch your parking space to one near the elevator.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes but conceded with a muttered ‘fine.’ I smiled in satisfaction.
“Don’t look so smug,” she said wryly. “It’s the lesser of two evils. I don’t want people to think I’m getting special treatment, but I suppose this is preferable to the image of security guards escorting me in and out of the building all the time.”
Fortune's Angel (Fates Aligned Book 2) Page 18
