Chapter Eight
Charlotte
F eeling grateful, I walk back into Reaper’s home. He could have told me to get the fuck out of his car, and I wouldn’t have any choice. He could have left me with Jason’s body last night too. Could have turned around and left without a care. But he didn't. He involved himself more than he needed to and I’m not going to ask him why. I’m just going to be grateful and make sure he doesn't regret his decision.
If it’s up to me, I never want to set foot into Jason’s house again. Too many bad memories, things I don't want to relive. I’ll worry about getting my clothes and car another time.
When I killed Jason, I was not only freeing myself from him, but I was also releasing all the built-up trauma he caused me over the years. Every hammer hit was a memory of his abuse, his control, and every strike brought me closer to freedom, to getting my power back. And damn did it feel good.
My emotional dam was smashed open, and I was flooded with euphoria.
If I could do it all over again, to see the look on his face, to feel the same high, I would.
Fuck Jason.
I look over to Reaper and realize I've just been standing here staring at the wall, lost in thought.
“Sorry, still tired, I think.”
“Just to set some ground rules, I don't want you just coming and going whenever you want. You shouldn’t be seen here. We need to be careful. I also work a lot so I'm either gone or I’m down in the basement. You won't be able to get down there without the code, but just to be clear, I don't like being disturbed during my work.”
“Got it. Thank you again.”
His gaze lingers a bit longer and then he walks down the hall, disappearing behind a door.
Over the next week, I hardly see Reaper. He was right, he does work a lot and he’s always up before me in the mornings. He’s like a ghost. Often, I catch just a glimpse of him rounding a corner or leaving through the basement door. He has said less to me this past week than he did that first day together. Which is fine, I guess. It just can get a bit lonely here.
I reported Jason missing and I've gotten a couple calls throughout the week with updates of how there is nothing new to report, but they're still searching.
Wish they’d give up .
I've talked to Lily and let her know I’m okay and safe. Reaper told me she was the one to contact him, asking for help with my situation, but she didn't mention that to me and I didn't fill her in that I was the one to kill Jason, or anything about Reaper and how I'm currently living with him. As far as she knows I'm staying with a family friend. She seemed suspicious considering the only family I have is my dad and the guy doesn't exactly have friends, but she let it go. She knows when I’m ready, I’ll confide in her. That’s how it's always been in our friendship. She doesn't push. She’s the most patient friend, and sometimes, I wonder if I even deserve her after how much of a crap friend I've been these past years. I know she doesn't hold it against me because it was Jason standing in our way, but I hold it against myself for allowing it for so long.
It's almost midnight as I quietly step downstairs in a long shirt—barefoot and thirsty. I flick on the kitchen light and jump out of my skin, startled.
“Jesus, fuck,” I shout, putting my hand over my heart.
“Not Jesus. Just me,” Reaper says calmly. He’s in gray workout pants and a black long sleeve shirt. It’s fitted to his large sculpted body like a second skin and of course, his mask is on, shielding half his face. He must have heard me coming. I can't seem to catch him without it.
“What are you doing in here in the dark?”
He holds up a tall glass of liquid, half empty. “Midnight drink.”
“What is it?” I ask as I walk closer to him.
“Chocolate milk.”
I laugh. “What? Your midnight drink is chocolate milk? I figured you were a bourbon guy.”
“I don't drink liquor. Chocolate milk always hits the spot. Especially after a workout.”
“If you say so.”
“Why are you down here at this hour? ”
“Thirsty,” I state.
“And what's your midnight drink?”
“Um, I don't know, water?”
He chuckles. The sound deep and smooth
“That's lame.”
“Oh, excuse me. Should I be having milk instead?”
“ Chocolate milk.”
I smile and shake my head.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll have some chocolate milk.”
Reaper grabs another glass from the sleek black cabinets and pours in a good amount of chocolate syrup, then fills the rest with milk. He mixes it together and hands it to me.
He keeps his eyes on me as I take a sip. It's a long sip that turns into gulps as the ice-cold chocolatey goodness slides down my throat, satisfying my thirst and so much more.
“Wow, why is this so good?”
“There’s just something about some cold chocolate milk late at night that hits all the spots, huh?”
“Mmhmm,” I mumble around the glass as I finish it off. “I didn't even know I was craving something sweet.”
“Do you know milk is more hydrating than water?”
“I didn’t know that. Well, thank you for the fun fact of the night and for the milk.”
Nodding, he sets his glass in the sink and walks away into the midnight darkness of the house.
I can't help but wish he stayed, talking to me for a little bit longer.