“Then don’t think about it.”
I gave him a quizzical look as I drained the last of the water in my bottle and wiped my mouth dry with the back of my hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly that. Don’t think about it. Right now, you need to focus on finding the fucker who beat the hell out of your girl and making him pay. Right now, you have to concentrate on keeping her safe. Until that’s done, there’s really no point in making any life-changing decisions in regard to your relationship, is there?”
He had a point, and when I thought of it like that, I felt a bit of relief.
Throwing the empty bottle into the recycle bin a few feet away, I pushed to my feet and tucked the towel into the waistband of my athletic shorts. “Thanks, man. Appreciate you lookin’ out for me tonight.”
“Not a problem.” He rose from the weight bench and moved his jaw side to side, working it out from where I’d punched him earlier. “What do you say we go another round before heading out? You know, just in case you need your ass kicked a bit more.”
Charlotte
By the time the sun came up the following morning, I felt like I’d been awake for days. If I wasn’t having bad dreams, it was the nurses waking me up to check on me. If it wasn’t the nurses, it was my guilt at how I’d left things with Dalton. Then there was also the constant worrying that maybe Micah was right. What if that man attacking me was because of my sister?
What if she was in trouble?
On top of stress and exhaustion, I also felt like I’d been run over by a freaking eighteen-wheeler, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, and as sad and pathetic as it was to admit, it also wasn’t anything I hadn’t experienced before.
After my big fight with Dalton, Jolie and his parents had stuck around, doing their best to lighten the mood and make sure I was okay, but there was no shaking the awkwardness from the blow-up, no matter how sweet they were.
I’d been given a slight reprieve from the constant hovering when visiting hours ended the night before, but today was a new day and, once again, my hospital room was full of people, including Dalton, who was once again, playing the strong silent type, standing off to the side. I could have sworn I saw the faint shadows of a couple bruises on his face, but he hadn’t come close enough for me to get a better look, and I wasn’t about to ask.
But what I couldn’t understand, and what was slightly worrying, was that he hadn’t come alone. He’d come with some of his Alpha Omega buddies in tow, and I had a feeling there was another shoe that was going to drop this morning.
I did my best to hold back my wince when the doctor shined that stupid little penlight in my eyes and swallowed down the curse that wanted to bubble up from my throat when he prodded at my nose.
The doctor clicked the light off and stuffed it in the breast pocket of his white lab coat. “Well, you’re going to be hurting for a good bit, but the good news is, I think it’s safe to let you go home today.”
The rush of relief I felt was quickly replaced with a near-crushing panic at the thought of going back to my apartment. A place that had been all mine, my safe space, was now tarnished, tainted by the memory of that man. My privacy had been violated in the worst way, and I had nowhere else to go.
He looked around at the gathered crowd. “I’m assuming one of your many friends here will be able to drive you?”
“We’ve got her, Doc.”
My heart gave a little jump, flipping and flopping in my chest at the sound of Dalton’s voice. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since things went sour, but I’d still somehow missed him like crazy. However, there was another part of me that was unsettled at the thought of what his claim meant. How exactly did he have me, and who were we?
“Good,” the doctor decreed with a nod, oblivious to the tempest suddenly swirling in my head. “Then I’ll get your discharge paperwork started. I want you to call my office next week to schedule a follow-up appointment.”
I agreed, and he said his goodbyes, quickly hustling out of the room, probably to escape the testosterone overload clogging the air.
“What’s going on?” I asked as soon as the door snicked shut, my gaze darting around the room. “Why does it look like I have my own personal entourage to go home?”
Surprisingly, it was Dalton who answered that. “You know most of the guys I work with, but I wanted to reintroduce you to the ones who’ll be in charge of your security.”
I blinked slowly, trying to comprehend what he’d just said. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You remember Trent, West, and Hunter. They’re part of your security team. One of them will be watching over you whenever I’m not around.”
My head felt like it was about to explode, and it had nothing to do with the lingering headache that had been pulsing behind my eyeballs all night. “I’m sorry . . . what?” I repeated on a screech.
He crossed his arms over his chest, bracing his feet shoulder-width apart like he was gearing up for a fight and had no intention of backing down. “Until the fucker who did this to you is caught, you aren’t to be left alone. Hayden’s packed everything you’ll need to move into my place for however long this lasts, and during that time, you aren’t to be left alone.”
My head jerked around, pinning my supposed best friend to the spot. She at least had the decency to look contrite. “Sorry, babe, but if this is what has to happen to keep you safe, then . . .” She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders like that said it all.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I gritted at Dalton before turning beseeching eyes to Micah. “Come on. I mean, don’t you think this is a little much?”
I’d made a huge mistake thinking he’d be on my side . . . the traitor.
His expression was granite as he asked, “You look in a mirror lately, Charlie?”
I hadn’t, mainly because I was scared to. The few times I’d gotten up in the night and waddled to the bathroom, I’d made a conscious effort not to look. I didn’t need to see the damage to know it was bad. My nose throbbed like it had its very own heartbeat, and my skin felt tight everywhere, but as long as I didn’t actually see the damage, there was a part of my brain I could trick into thinking it wasn’t all that bad.
“This is happening, so you might as well get on board,” he finished in that hard detective voice he rarely ever used with me. That stupid voice made me want to punch him in the face.
My pride wanted to keep arguing, but the truth was, I didn’t feel safe, not anymore. I might be the kind of person who treasured her privacy to an almost unhealthy level, but there was no denying I felt the teeniest bit better knowing I wasn’t going to be alone in this.
From the expression on the men’s faces, each and every one of them was taking this very seriously. Hell, even Walt looked like he wanted to take someone’s head off.
However, the stubborn streak in me was never-ending and miles wide, so instead of relenting with grace and dignity, I folded my arms over my chest and flopped back against the paper-thin pillows with an insolent pout on my face.
“Fine. Whatever. But can I at least have some privacy to get dressed?”
I could have sworn I saw the corner of Dalton’s mouth tremble like he was fighting back a grin. “You’ve got five minutes.”
“Ten,” I argued back, knowing there was no way in hell, with how stiff and sore my body was, that I’d be able to get dressed in five minutes.
“Five. Then I’m comin’ back through that door whether you’re dressed or not.”
And I knew by the wicked smirk he wasn’t bothering to hide, he was dead serious.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlotte
It was another beautiful day as I sat out on Dalton’s back deck. The gentle breeze kissed my cheeks and lifted my hair, making the leaves dance and rustle. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and still, I was miserable. Even the gorgeous views all around me couldn’t break through my sour mood.
I’d been here for a w
eek now, under house arrest and constantly guarded. It was enough to drive anyone out of their minds, but that wasn’t the main reason for my melancholy. The holder of that coveted spot was none other than Dalton himself.
To say the past seven days had been strained would have been putting it mildly. I wasn’t sure if he was staying away just because he was busy or if he was avoiding me, but even though we were living under the same roof—and sleeping in the same freaking bed, since one of his spare rooms was an office space and the other was full of junk—I hardly ever saw him.
He’d been waking up before the sun most mornings, leaving for work before I got up, and stayed gone so late into the night that, if my already-terrible sleep hadn’t gotten even worse over this past week, causing me to wake up nearly every hour at night, I probably wouldn’t have even known if or when he came home.
We’d hardly spoken a handful of words to each other in the past week, and my heart was starting to hurt even more than my body.
“You know, I think I’d be able to handle house arrest just fine with a view like this.”
Alma’s voice pulled me from my morose musings and back to the present. Earlier that day, Alma, McKenna, Sloane, and Layla had shown up for a Whiskey Dolls get-together. As much as I’d been missing my friends recently, I was having a big problem keeping that fake smile in place while I played hostess.
“Yeah, it’s really beautiful out here,” I mumbled noncommittally. “And really peaceful. I spend a lot of my time out here.”
“Well, yeah . . . that too. But I was actually talking about that huge slice of beefcake inside.”
I followed Alma’s appreciative gaze through the huge picture windows to where Trent was sitting at the kitchen island, doing something on his laptop.
Out of all the guys on Charlotte duty, Trent was the one I’d probably gotten to know best. While it was obvious Dalton was tight with all the men he worked with, I got the impression that he was closest with Trent, and I had a feeling that was why he was here more than the other guys who were forced to play babysitter.
“Do you know if he’s single?”
For the first time in several long, monotonous days, I felt my lips quirk into a smile. “Aren’t you seeing someone already?” I asked with a chuckle, feeling only a small twinge in my ribs.
“Yeah,” Layla jumped in. “What was he? An accountant or something?”
“No, that was like, two boyfriends ago,” Sloane corrected. “I think this dude was a doctor or something?”
“It was something with a P. Pediatrician, maybe?” McKenna guessed. When it came to Alma’s crazy long string of men, it was really hard to keep up.
“Podiatrist,” Alma corrected. “And that’s over.”
“Another one bites the dust,” I teased, earning laughs from the rest of the girls. Like the rest of the Whiskey Dolls, Alma was one of my favorite people, and how she tended to go through men like water provided us all with endless entertainment. She had the attention span of a toddler strung out on sugar, picking them up and scraping them off whenever she got bored, which was usually around the two-to-three-week mark. As far as I was concerned, if men could do it without anyone batting an eye, so could she.
“You got that right, honey. I’m on the hunt to find someone to help me mend this broken heart, and I’m looking to bag me that fine beefcake in there.”
“How about, just for the sake of safety and whatnot, we consider any and all of Charlotte’s bodyguards off-limits? At least for the time being.”
Alma’s bottom lip stuck out in a dramatic pout as she turned away from the window to face our little huddle once again. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But he’s fair game once this situation is under control.”
I gave my friend the first genuine smile I’d had in days. “Deal.”
My girls hung around for a bit longer, and as much as I loved seeing them and appreciated the fact that they took time out of their schedules to come see me, there was a part of me that felt a little relieved when they left. Trying to pretend to be happy, make like everything was great in my world when it was so far from it, was exhausting. I got gentle hugs and cheek kisses goodbye, and as soon as I closed the door behind them, I let that mask slip back into place.
Trent was eyeing me carefully as I shuffled past the kitchen. “Everything good?”
“Yeah?” I said with a plastic grin that didn’t reach my eyes. “Just kind of worn out. Think I’m gonna take a nap.”
He jerked his chin up in acknowledgment. “All right. I’ll be here. Go get some rest.
My lack of sleep must have caught up with me because, by the time I woke from my nap, the room was dark and the sky outside was freckled with stars.
My stomach let out an unhappy rumble at being empty, and when I pushed myself up to sitting, I turned to look at the alarm clock, seeing it was already a few minutes past eight.
Scooting off the bed, I moved out of the room and down the hall toward the sound of the television playing in the living room, hoping Dalton was home.
I’d made a decision hours earlier as I tossed and turned, trying desperately to shut my brain off. If I had to deal with the silence between us for one more day, I was going to lose my shit completely. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I’d told myself that, as soon as he got home, we were going to sit down and talk this out once and for all, no matter where that conversation inevitably led.
My heart sank the minute I rounded the corner and spotted Trent sitting on the couch.
He lifted the remote and pointed it at the TV as soon as he saw me, pausing whatever show he’d been watching. “Hey, Charlotte. Sleep good?”
I folded my arms over my chest, holding myself in a protective stance, trying to keep my heart from hammering out of my chest. “Not particularly. Do you know when Dalton’s going to be home?”
“Uh, no.” His gaze darted back to the TV like he couldn’t bring himself to maintain eye contact. “He called earlier, said he’d be working late.”
“How late?”
“Didn’t say,” Trent replied to the image frozen on the screen.
I felt my insides heat, pressure building in my chest as I started to get angry. “Do you know where he is? Is he working on a case?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I guess so.”
I uncrossed my arms, slamming my hands on my hips and arching a brow. “You guess so? Don’t you guys work together?”
Trent wiped his palms on his jeans and pushed off the couch. “I’m hungry. You hungry? I’ll go see what’s stocked and rustle somethin’ up.”
He darted into the kitchen in an effort to avoid my interrogation, so I moved back to the bedroom where my phone was charging on the nightstand.
Snatching it up, I went to my text screen and typed in rapid-fire.
Me: Any clue how late you’re working tonight? I’d like to talk.
Those three tiny dots appeared beneath my message, flashing as Dalton typed something out on the other end, and when his text finally came through, it felt like someone had just shoved their fist through my chest and was squeezing my heart.
Dalton: Late. Don’t wait up.
He hadn’t even acknowledged my request to talk. God, I felt that burn in the back of my eyes that had been there for days now, warning me I was on a razor-fine edge, teetering close to a full-blown sob-fest.
Instead of crying, I decided to hold onto my annoyance and shoved the phone in the back pocket of the shorts I’d been wearing before storming into the kitchen.
“Where is he?” I demanded, slapping my hands down on the island.
“I told you. He’s—”
I narrowed my eyes into angry slits and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “If you say he’s working one more time, I’m going to slip something in your drink when you least expect it, and when you’ve passed out, I’m going to shave notches into your eyebrows. So think long and hard before you answer this question: Do you know where he is.”
Trent actually looked a bit fr
ightened as he reached up to run a finger over his thick, perfectly-arched brow. “All right, yes,” he relented unhappily. “I know where he is, okay?”
I raised my chin haughtily. “Perfect. Take me to him.”
Giving him no other choice but to follow, I stormed to the front door and threw it open, biting back my smile at the string of mumbled curses coming from Trent as he caved to my threat.
My eyes rounded in bewilderment as I leaned forward to get a better look at the dilapidated warehouse Trent had just parked in front of. The place looked like it should have been abandoned a good thirty years ago, but for some reason, the dirt lot surrounding the building was packed with cars.
“What the hell is this place?” I breathed out as Trent killed the engine and pushed his door open.
“You’re about to find out. Let’s go. And while we’re in there, you don’t leave my side. Got it?”
A bolt of panic licked up my spine, but I forced it down, determined to see this through.
The closer we got to the building, the louder the noises from inside got until they became a deafening roar as soon as we pushed inside.
“Remember,” Trent shouted, looking back over his shoulder, “stay close.”
I nodded, my wide eyes darting all over the place as I reached out and latched onto his arm so I couldn’t lose him.
He led me deeper and deeper into the fray until we were pushing through a thick curtain of people all standing in a giant circle. In the middle were two men, neither of them wearing shirts or shoes, both glistening with sweat as they circled each other, fists raised.
The man facing me threw a punch that collided with the face of the man whose back was to me, and as soon as his head whipped around from the blow, I sucked in a startled gasp.
“What the hell?” I yelped, darting forward, trying to get to Dalton just as the other man kicked, his foot slamming into Dalton’s ribs.
“Can’t do that, short stuff,” Trent said into my ear as he hooked an arm around my middle and pulled me back. “Bad enough I brought you here. You jump in the middle of his fight, he’d take my head off for sure.”
Playing for Keeps (Hope Valley Book 10) Page 17
