31. Chapter 28
I slept like shit. I should have just snuck back into my room and slept on the floor. Instead, I tortured myself with his sugary, warm smell that drives me wild. It’s baked into the sheets, the comforter, everything.
His pictures of us, the guys, our dads, everything pisses me off about it, especially the picture of me, Mom, and him that he keeps framed beside his bed. It’s a sick reminder that Mama loved me and Henry together. She would get glassy-eyed every time I spoke to her about him with the most satisfied smile on her face like she knew eons before I ever figured my shit out.
“Incoming!” Charlie’s way too chipper this morning as she barges in. She’s got a mug of something that smells a lot like coffee in one hand, and the other’s holding on to the knob. “You look like shit.”
“No, Charlie, I’m not naked. Sure, Charlie, please come in,” I grumble. It’s too damn early for her to be this happy.
“I’ve seen plenty of dicks before, I’m sure yours is nothing special.” She pops out a hip and leans against the door. “What’s on the agenda today? An apology tour, perhaps?”
Whipping my head her way, I zero in on her and narrow my eyes. “You’re funny.”
She shrugs and takes a sip from the mug. “I really am. However I’m not joking.”
“I’m not apologizing to anyone,” I tell her, running my palm down my face and standing from the bed. Walking over to where she blocks the door, I take the mug and drink a healthy swallow. “Thanks.”
“Ew,” she takes the almost empty cup and looks into it with a repulsed sneer. “That wasn’t for you.”
Ignoring her, I cross the hall into my room and grab the clothes I’ll need for today before heading to the bathroom. She follows as if that’s going to deter me. Flipping on the hot water, I look over my shoulder to find her perched on the sink.
“Well, go ahead,” she gestures with her hand as if she's the ringleader of this circus. “I want to know what we’re doing today.”
“If I tell you, will you leave?” I’m annoyed, and it’s not even nine yet.
“I don’t know. I’m enjoying the stompy, woe-is-me journey we’re on currently, so probably not.” Her legs swing, heels clicking the cabinets with every swing.
“Charlie, I slept like shit, and your voice is pissing me off, so please, could you give me twenty minutes to get my shit together?” If that doesn’t work, I’ll just get in the shower with my boxers on and throw them out over the top.
“Well, at least we can be honest. That’s good to know,” she hops down, leaving me confused trying to figure out exactly what she means. “Twenty minutes, Pretty Boy.”
When she leaves, the silence of the bathroom brings reality crashing down like the water pelting the glass of the shower.
I hit Toby.
Called Talon a dickwad, and Cin slapped me.
Not my finest hour.
After I’ve showered, dried off, shaved, and dressed, I pull open the door to find Charlie standing on the other side.
“I don’t think your family likes me too much,” she quips, though her tone doesn’t change. More matter of fact than upset.
“What gives you that idea?” I mock surprise.
“Again, I didn’t know you were taken. I feel like we’ve had this conversation already. Or did I imagine that?” She snarks.
“I remember, just like I know you remember that I told you I wasn’t taken.” Heading past her toward the kitchen I go about my normal routine. Coffee and a protein bar from the cabinet, only there aren’t any there. Just an empty box.
I’m not asking Toby or Tal where they are, and I doubt Fern’s here. None of the dads will know, so it looks like I’ll have to stop and get more while we’re out.
“Oh, the hot twins took those this morning,” she purses her lips as if she’s thinking hard about something.
“I’ll bet they did,” I mumbled under my breath. Childish shit that I thought we’d be past, but hey, at least they didn’t fuck with the coffee. Downing the vanilla-rich coffee, I grab my keys and head for the door.
Charlie’s on my heels the whole walk through the house to the garage as if I’d fucking leave her here without me. Not a chance. I wouldn’t put it past Toby and Tal to corner her and rope her into whatever ridiculous point they're trying to make by starving me out.
Sliding into my Audi, I take in the leather smell. It reminds me of Mama’s car since it’s the same make and model but red. She loved that car so much.
“Where to?” Charlie’s question interrupts my memory, and I exhale.
“I have to go get some things, so I figure I’ll show you around Gravity Hill,” I tell her, hoping she’ll leave it at that. I should have known better. Her questions never stop.
The whole drive into town it’s question after question. At one point, I turned up the music so loud I could drown her out, but she still chatted away.
“Do you ever stop talking?” I ask after putting the car in park.
“No, I’m so glad you asked.” Rolling her eyes, she turns her body in the seat, “Are you seriously not going to apologize to the people that you refer to as brothers?”
“No.”
“Wow,” she says, turning and flopping back into the seat. Staring out the passenger side window I watch her reflection in the glass. Her eyes circle as if she has something to say and doesn’t know how, or she knows it will set me off.
I didn’t used to be this guy with a short fuse. I used to be the guy you relied on for just about anything. Before Mom died, I was happy. I had everything I could have ever wanted, and now, thinking back on my life, it feels like I’ve got nothing, and maybe I’m to blame for most of it.
“I have two siblings, you know.”
Her confession almost knocks me off my feet. “As in two other Romero brats?”
She laughs, “No, two brothers.”
I don’t know why this feels like something deeply personal to her, but something about her demeanor feels… off.
“Our father,” she swallows and turns back to face me. Her expression is hard as if whatever she’s about to say is serious. “If you ever, ever tell anyone what I’m about to say, I will inflict the worst pain you’ve ever imagined on Henry and make you watch. Are we clear?”
My hand shoots to her neck, and I lean in close enough that we share breath. “I’m getting really fucking tired of you and your family’s threats. If you ever so much as look at Henry again, I’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands. I’ll go to war with your family by myself if I have to. Never threaten him again. Do I make myself clear?”
She pulls a knife from somewhere, and the clink of metal sounds right before it’s against my throat. “You first,” she grits out through the little oxygen she has.
“Let’s get one thing straight, I’m not your enemy.” I release her throat, worried that if I hold on, I might actually hurt her. “Threatening my family has gotten your’s black listed. Sure, we have this arrangement for now , but make no mistake, if any of my family hears you make those threats, they won’t hesitate to kill you on sight. Questions be damned.”
“I have protection–” She starts, putting the knife down.
A sarcastic laugh bursts out of me, and I cover my mouth. “You think that means shit in the Hemlock house? If Creed wants you dead, you're dead.”
“I’m sorry,” she relents, “I know I shouldn’t have threatened Henry, but what I’m about to tell you… It can’t go past this car.”
“You could have just said that,” I deadpan.
“You haven’t really shown me a trustworthy side, and to be honest, Banks, I don’t know what type of guy you are.”
Silence descends as her words sink in. Why should I give her any parts of me when all she’s given me is a pain in the ass?
“My dad isn’t really my dad,” she pauses as if trying to gauge my reaction. “My mother had an affair with another man while she was still married.”
“She got pregnant. After my brothers, doctors told her she would have a hard time getting pregnant again. My dad was so proud as if he created this medical miracle on his own.”
“It’s not–” I start, then think better of it.
“Right, well after I was born, clear differences started to appear that he couldn’t ignore. My hair is jet black, my eyes are green, and I’m taller than almost every woman in my family. He ignored it for nearly fifteen years until he started hitting her. I remember my brothers pulling me away as he beat her, hearing her scream for help. He knew about the affair and had suspected it for years, and when he finally had DNA results to confirm it, he killed them both. My mother and my real father.”
I’m not sure what to say. I’m not sure what I can say. Anytime someone tells me how sorry they are for my loss, it makes me so angry I can’t see straight. So instead, I go with, “That must have been rough. No kid should ever go through that.”
She laughs a humorless sound that just doesn’t fit the Charlie I know. “I was fifteen.”
“Christ.”
“What I’m saying is I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. A mother specifically.”