by Jami Wagner
Everything will work out just fine.
Chapter Seven
Charlie
The results of a sleepless night are pretty comparable to drinking too much the night before. I already know I’m going to be less than my best today. I could blame it on the lack of sleep, yes, but really, it’s thoughts of Clint and Jimmy and the money and Sam and … Jett.
Of all the people I want to scream at, Jett is the one I want to unleash on first. In a five-minute span, he went from the guy who reminded me what it was like to be happy to the guy who could’ve ruin everything for Sam and me.
“Morning, Charlie.” Sam grins at me when I step into the kitchen. He’s already showered, dressed, and munching on a bowl of Captain Crunch.
“Can I stay home alone today?” he asks just as he gets another bite in his mouth.
I’m surprised I can understand him. He finishes chewing—thankfully, mouth closed now—and grins at me. He has Kenzie’s smile. I like making him smile, just so I can see it.
“No,” I answer. It’s not up for debate.
Oh my god. Thank you, Folgers. This coffee tastes amazing.
“I’ll be eleven soon. Isn’t it time I did some grown-up things?” he asks.
“Yes, but let’s start on another day,” I tell him. “Say, your thirteenth birthday, maybe.”
His shoulders sag and he circles his spoon in his bowl. “Don’t you trust me?”
I’d like more than anything for him to stay home, because I do trust him. But he’s too young and with our current situation, leaving him unsupervised isn’t an option.
When the cops were called to the scene the night Kenzie died, they found enough drugs to lock Sam’s father away for a long time, and his actions toward my sister only added to the list. Drew was already wanted for missing a court date for a guy he beat and placed in the hospital. Sam will be well past eighteen before he is released.
So Sam wasn’t old enough to know how many times his father called from jail. How many times he had his people watching us, following us, and even threatening us about this money they think I have. But now, he would notice if something out of our normal was going on. Which is why I can’t let Sam see that anything in our lives has changed. He’s only a child; worrying about what someone may or may not do to us shouldn’t be anywhere in his mind.
“Charlie?” I blink as Sam waves his hand in front of my face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, releasing a breath at the same time. “Just a little tired is all.”
“Then let’s stay home and chill all day.” He even places his hand on my arm to drive his point home. He’s good. I almost give in.
“Nice try.” I grab his backpack off the bench by the door that has his soccer stuff and a couple games he wants to take when he goes with Max to the Boys and Girls Club. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Yeah, cuz it’s the weekend,” he whines.
“Well, that’s exciting, isn’t it?” I ask, bumping into the back of him.
“Come on, Charlie, please.”
His small voice is like a nail to my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I really want to.”
He sighs and walks out the door.
Sam is rarely mad at me and when he is, it breaks my heart. But right now, although it hurts my heart, I’m mad more than anything. Mad that we’re in this situation. Mad that my sister never listened to me when I told her to leave Drew. Mad that these men think I have something I don’t and they won’t go till they get what they want. I loved my sister with all my heart, but she made the mistakes that got us where we are today. I don’t plan on doing the same.
***
Work takes forever, and is luckily uneventful. I could have sworn I’d have heard from Clint today. I mean, I work at a bank; you’d think at this point he’d have picked up on it to use against me somehow.
He wasn’t happy last night. That day in my apartment, he said if he was doing things his way … well, I wonder if his silence today is because he isn’t in charge of all this. Still, if Jimmy were in charge, something would be happening. I don’t like the silence. I don’t like how it makes me feel like I’m slowly turning the handle of a jack-in-the-box, just waiting for something to pop. Maybe making me worry is part of their plan. Either way, I hope Sam and I can get through tonight’s practice without any interaction with them.
Sam’s coach blows the whistle loudly enough that it’s like I’m standing right next to him when I’m actually on the other side of the field. I flinch and look back to where cars, including my own, are lined up along the street. I don’t see Whit’s.
I pull out my phone, sending her a quick text.
Charlie: Hey, do you need me to give Max a ride home after practice?
My gaze falls back to the street. If she needs me to give Max a ride, it’s unusual that she hasn’t asked me already.
I find a seat on a dry patch of grass where I can watch Sam for the next forty-five minutes. For the next half hour, I’ll pretend my life is nothing short of perfect. Friday nights are also pizza night at our house; that’s the best night of the week.
The coach calls a five-minute break at the same time my phone buzzes. I reach for it at the moment coach Cal plops down on the grass right next to me, stalling me from reading Whit’s text.
“Sam has a gift with this sport,” he says with a big smile. “He mentioned this is his first year playing soccer. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I glance his way to find him grinning at me.
My cheeks are already burning. But not because I’m flattered—more like I’m embarrassed that I don’t know what to say. Cal’s a good-looking guy, too. I should want to blush from the fact that an attractive man is smiling at me with his clear interest. I should be nervous, because between his blonde hair and brown eyes … he used to be my type. I’m not sure what my type is anymore. Dark hair, blue eyes, a perfect smile with that one right dimple, and adorable shaggy hair I could hold on to.
And after last night, that type screams trouble.
“You should be proud of him. He’s going to be one of our star players,” Cal says.
I am proud. His mother would have been extra proud.
I nod and take a deep breath to calm my heart. I miss her like crazy, and that will never change.
“He’s a wonderful kid,” I say. “Extremely talented.”
He laughs and leans over to bump me. “Something I’m sure he gets from his mother.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Cal jumps to his feet and winks at me before jogging off to where the boys are gathering in a circle by a green cooler. One boy opens the white lid and the others cheer over what’s inside. It wasn’t my turn to bring the after-practice snack, something I learned from Whit that the mothers do, so I have no idea what it is, but by the high fives going around, it’s something good.
When Cal reaches the boys, my gaze drifts to a spot behind them. The spot where Jett is walking down the hill of grass toward our group.
Shit. I was hoping I wouldn’t see him for a few days or at least until I figure out what I am going to say.
A couple of the other moms near me start to giggle and chat about the hot guy walking this way.
Some petty part of me—let’s chalk it up to the fact that raising Sam meant I skipped the whole part of my life where I got to be jealous over a boy—wants to jump up and skip over to him and look back at these woman with ha! written all over my face, yet my heart is racing as I reach for my water bottle and take a sip.
Great, and now he’s looking at me.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No actually, I’m glad you’re here.”
I may as well just get this over with and give myself one less thing to worry about.
“We need to talk about last night,” I go on.
“I agree.”
“It was so wrong and inappropriate and … what?”
I stop talking when he starts to chuckle.
“To that I have to disagree,” he says. “I mean the time and place, yeah, but you and me, no.”
I huff and it only makes him laugh more.
“Jett, I don’t think you’re my type,” I say. I can’t be with someone who makes my life more complicated than it is.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“You keep saying that, but last night …”
“I was there. You don’t have to remind me.” I look away. I can feel my face growing flushed just thinking about it.
“I just want to know that you’re okay. You were pretty mad at me when you left last night.” His voice is sincere.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, avoiding looking him in the eyes. “So we’re good?”
“I’m good if you’re good,” he says, nudging me with his shoulder.
I feel the fire of his touch as it passes through every inch of my body, then my gaze finds his and I know one thing. Staying away from Jett is going to be impossible.
Jett
I’m good if you’re good.
I should just stop talking here. Call it good. Don’t bring up anything more till after this assignment. But then she laughs and it’s like a vise on my heart. I don’t want to not hear that laugh.
With Jimmy lying low and Clint thinking this means he needs to do the same, I’ve had a lot of free time in the last twenty-four hours. I’ve spent all of it thinking about how I should talk to Charlie about last night, which I’ve done. My head needs to be clear when the action at work picks back up.
Charlie stretches out her legs.
She looked good last night, but this version of Charlie is beyond words. She’s got on a pair of brown leggings and a cream top, a tunic I think is what they call them. The flats she has on fit her better than heels. Her hair is pulled into a bun with a few strays hanging on the sides of her face.
“I think it’s a good thing you ended up being my sister’s neighbor.”
“Oh yeah, why is—?”
Her entire body jumps when the whistle blows. The boys’ coach is looking directly as us, but he’s yelling at the boys again about not touching the ball with their hands.
“Do you know him?” I ask.
“I met him at the first practice, why?”
“Just curious. He’s looking over here like some jealous boyfriend.”
“Oh no, no, no, definitely not the case.”
“But he likes you.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“I am.”
She shakes her head.
“Honestly,” I say, “I can tell by the way he’s looking at you.”
At this she rolls her eyes. “And how is that?”
“Like the way I can’t help but look at you right this moment.”
She’s picking at the grass and tossing it behind us, but her gaze is on mine and I can’t peel my eyes away.
And I should.
I need to.
My job depends on it.
Why can’t I remember this?
The easy banter between us makes me momentarily forget, like I always do when I’m with her, that I shouldn’t flirt. I’m still smiling back when someone calls her name.
“Charlie!” Sam shouts and runs over to us. Max is right behind him.
Her focus is still on me as they approach.
“Char—” Sam starts again, but now his attention is on me. “Uh … Mom.” The excitement is gone from Sam’s voice.
That was odd.
“Uncle Jett!” Max screams and lunges at me, hugging me around my neck. “Are you staying over again tonight again? If you are, can you play goalie for me and Sam? We want to work on our scoring!”
“I don’t know, buddy, I have some work to do,” I say with a heavy sigh.
“Just bring your computer like you did last night, please?” Max begs.
“I wish I could. Maybe in a couple weeks, okay?”
“Look,” Sam says, pulling his attention to a lone soccer ball. They race off toward it.
“Where exactly do you work?” Charlie asks, pausing as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer. “Your sister mentioned you have this weird amount of dedication to your job.”
Of course, she would.
“I work for the city,” I tell her. It’s my go-to answer.
“Oh, what do you do?”
“Um, I sort of freelance and help where they need me. Keeps me busy.”
I catch a glimpse of her tongue when she licks her lips, and it sparks something inside me. I want to reach for her and kiss her right here in front of everyone.
“I don’t get to spend as much time just being outside and actually enjoying it as I used to,” is what I say instead to get my mind off of kissing her. “Right out of college, a bunch of my buddies and I would go camping every free weekend we got.”
“You don’t go anymore?” she asks.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Do you still see your friends often?”
Not since I started this job.
“No, I work a lot,” I say, keeping it short.
I couldn’t tell you the last time I spoke to one of the guys I went to school with. Once I finished my general studies and left to join to police force, I haven’t done much of anything but work. The team is as close to friends as I get.
She nods, her focus on the sky as if she’s either trying to understand or wants to ask more. “I’ve never been camping,” she says. “Neither has Sam. I feel like at his age, he should have been at least once by now.”
I want to ask her more about her and Sam’s life. How they got here. Where exactly his father is and why he isn’t helping out, if he can. I want to know so much, but again, personal questions about her lead to personal questions about me. Right now, as much as I would love to tell her everything, I can’t. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
“Maybe some time we can all go. You, me, Sam, Whit, and Max. The boys would love it.”
“That would be great,” she says.
Their coach calls practice as over, and I help Charlie load the boys’ things. I was going to give Max a ride home, but since Charlie is headed there, she’s going to take him.
The boys buckle up in the back seat, and I hold Charlie’s door before she can get in.
Not knowing when I’ll see her again stings. So I’m going to do something I shouldn’t.
“Let’s go on a date next weekend,” I say in a whisper. I’m not sure she wants Sam to know.
“Jett …”
The soft way my name slides off her lips is like a magnet drawing me to her, but still, she doesn’t have to finish her sentence. I know what she’s going to say. But her eyes tell me something entirely different. They also tell me she’s a lot better at fighting her feelings than I am.
“At least think about it?” The conflicted look in her eyes changes to relief and she nods.
“Sure.”
“Give me your phone,” I say.
“What for?” she asks, even though she’s already pulling her phone from her purse.
“So I can call my phone with it.”
“Oh,” she says, that same sweet blush returning as she fights a smile.
I call myself with her phone and then text her phone back once I’m done.
“There, now you have my number,” I say, leaning one hand on the car next to her head. “Be sure to use it.”
I pause, gazing down into her eyes as she looks up.
I want to kiss her. God, I want to do more than just kiss her. I want to repeat last night and then some.
I step back, watching as her eyes flash to my lips and then look into my eyes. She wanted that kiss too.
“Have a good night, Charlie,” I say.
“Have a good night, Jett.”
I back away, my eyes on her as long as I can keep them until she gets into her car and pulls away from the curb. I spin, my car the only one left on this
side of the street.
I pause and notice a shadow take cover behind the hood. My steps slow, but I don’t take my gaze off that spot. Steadily, I reach down to my ankle and pull my gun. I make my way around the front of the Jeep and aim to shoot.
Only, there isn’t anyone here. I spin quickly, surveying the area around me, and even jump down to check under the vehicle.
Nothing.
I swear I saw something, and the feeling of being watched still doesn’t leave me as I head for my place.
Chapter Eight
Jett
Showing up at my sister’s place wasn’t in my plans for this Sunday afternoon, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about Charlie. How was her day? How was Sam’s? Does she need help with any repairs inside her apartment? I could just text her the way I have the past few days, but not today. Today I want to see her.
Since that night at practice, each time I come here while on this assignment, I know it’s the wrong choice to make. Clint or someone else could be following me. Drug dealers are always worried someone is out to get them, which yeah. But as of this morning, Clint hasn’t even left his apartment, so I don’t want to waste a perfectly good day. That, and with Jimmy still keeping out of sight, I need to find something to do before I go crazy.
I haven’t even put the car in park when I see Charlie bouncing down the stairs, pausing for a small glance over the railing when she reaches the second-floor landing. It was so quick that had I not been watching her, I wouldn’t have seen it.
I meet her at the bottom of the first floor. Her hair is curled down to the middle of her back, a few stray pieces, like always, landing over her shoulders. The afternoon sun shines against her brown locks.
“Hey,” she says quickly, her cheeks turning pink. I enjoy the refreshing change. Most women think playing hard to get is how to gain a man’s attention, but not with Charlie. She’s just so … her. She’s never trying to be anything else. The best part: I don’t even think she knows how perfectly her beauty shines from that one single trait.
“Hey,” I say back, nudging her with my elbow. “You know, I like when you’re happy to see me. There is no need to hide how I make you feel.”
