26. Charlie
26
Charlie
Y ou have to trust me. I’ll call you when it’s safe.
Her message sat on my screen, feeling like hope and a curse, pulling me in opposite directions. My fingers hovered over my phone, desperate to respond, to keep some sort of connection. But I couldn’t. Not without putting her at greater risk.
Ana had given me the address of the lake house but she made it clear: Jake was always one step ahead. If I acted impulsively, it wouldn’t just put her in danger…it would unravel everything.
And I hated to admit it, but I needed help.
The thought twisted in my stomach like a blade. I hated admitting I couldn’t handle this on my own, hated the vulnerability of reaching out. But there was no other option. I wasn’t going to jeopardize Ana’s safety because of my pride.
I scrolled to his name and hit call .
He picked up after two rings.
“Charlie,” Callan’s voice came through, sharp and cautious. “What do you want?”
“It’s Ana,” I said quickly. “She’s in trouble. I need your help.”
Callan’s tone shifted immediately, the caution replaced by urgency. “What kind of trouble? Where is she?”
“She’s at the lake house in Maryland. With Jake,” I said, forcing the words out. “He’s blackmailing her, threatening her. But it’s more complicated than that. I need to tell you everything, and it’s not going to be easy to hear.”
“Then start fucking talking,” he snapped.
I hesitated, my throat tightening. “I’ve been watching you,” I admitted, the words heavy with guilt and embarrassment.
“What do you mean, ‘watching me’?” Callan asked, his voice hardening.
“I was keeping tabs on you,” I said quickly. “Trying to find dirt, something I could use to make you back off. I thought if I had leverage, I could stop you from interfering in my relationship with Ana.”
The silence stretched, and I looked at my phone to make sure he was still on the line.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Callan said finally, his voice low and cold. “You were spying on me?”
“Yes,” I answered quickly. “I know it was wrong, but I was desperate. Every time you questioned me, it felt like you were trying to turn Ana against me. I thought if I could get you to stop—”
“Fucking unbelievable,” he interrupted.
“There’s more,” I said quickly. “I…I know about your relapse.”
His silence was deafening.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlie,” he said finally, his tone like ice. “So, you’ve been sitting on this? Spying on me, digging into my life, knowing I was struggling? What the fuck were you doing, laughing about it until you could throw me under the bus?”
“I didn’t know what I was going to do with it,” I admitted. “But Jake knows too. He’s using it against Ana, threatening to tell Sloane.”
There was a sharp breath on the other end, but Callan didn’t interrupt, so I forced myself to continue. “And Sarah,” I added, my stomach churning. “I hired someone to scare her in jail. I just wanted to make sure she couldn’t hurt Ana, or Sloane, again. But Jake somehow knew. He escalated it. He’s the one that had her killed, Callan. And now he’s using that, too.”
More silence. When Callan finally spoke, his voice was calm but laced with fury.
“So, let me get this straight,” he said. “You spied on me, hired someone to intimidate Sarah, which got her killed, and now you’re coming to me for help?”
“Yes,” I said, the admission heavy on my chest. “I fucked up, Callan. I know I did. But Ana’s in danger, and…I can’t fix this on my own.”
There was another pause, and then his tone softened, though I could still hear the frustration. “Where are you?”
“My loft,” I said quickly.
“I’ll catch the next flight out. Meet me in D.C—it’s closer to the lake house. We’ll need to go over everything before we make a move.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, relief washing over me.
“I’m not doing this for you,” he said sharply. “I’m doing this for Ana.”
I hesitated. “Are you telling Sloane?”
Callan let out a heavy sigh. “Not yet. She doesn’t need this weighing on her right now. But if Jake so much as hints at her, I’ll handle it. Just keep me updated and I’ll be in D.C. tonight.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding as if he could see me.
“And Charlie?” His tone dropped, colder and sharper. “If you ever pull this kind of shit again—spying, lying, dragging Ana into your mess—I won’t just sit back and let it slide. I’ll make sure you feel every ounce of the damage you’ve caused. Personally. Do you understand me?”
I bit my tongue. Now wasn’t the time to argue with him, especially after asking for his help.
“Fair enough,” I said quietly.
As the call ended, I stared at my phone, my heart pounding.
What the fuck are we going to do?
* * *
I sat alone in a hotel room in D.C., perched on the end chair near the window, staring at a photo of Ana and me on my phone. We were both smiling, my arm wrapped around her, caught in one of those perfect days when it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist. I’d give anything for another day like that.
This was the longest I’d been without Ana since the night I came to her apartment to make dinner, and it was killing me. My heart physically ached.
I told my team I needed the next day off. I had no idea what the plan was yet, but I knew we’d need time to figure it out. They weren’t happy about it, but the show couldn’t go on without me. They’d have to make do. I’d been busting my ass prepping for the tour, making up lost time, sacrificing precious time with Ana. I couldn’t keep doing that—not anymore, not without her by my side.
A sharp knock at the door broke through my thoughts. Startled, I pocketed my phone and stood.
I opened the door to find Callan standing there, and to my surprise, Sloane was with him.
“Sloane,” I said, taken aback. Her scowl told me everything. “Callan,” I added with a nod before stepping aside to let them in.
Sloane marched past me, her presence electric with frustration. Callan followed, his disdain barely masked as his eyes lingered on me.
“I can’t believe my mom is in this mess,” Sloane said, hands on her hips as she glared out the window. Then she turned, her eyebrows shooting up. “Charlie. What the fuck?”
I sighed, shutting the door behind me. “I know. This is my fault. But I’ll do anything for your mum, Sloane. I’d fucking die for her if I had to. I didn’t know things would get so…so fucked up,” I said, my voice cracking, feeling like the guilt was eating away at my chest.
Her expression softened slightly as I wrung my hands, pacing the room.
“Alright, Charlie. You fucked up. Now let’s fix this,” Callan said, his arms crossed as he stood next to Sloane by the window. “What exactly does Jake know, and what’s he threatening Ana with?”
I hesitated, sinking back into the chair. “Like I said…I hired someone to watch him. The same guy I used to hire you. But Jake knew all along. He knows about Sarah. He knows about…” I glanced at Sloane, then back at Callan. “About what you’re going through.”
Callan’s jaw tightened. “Sloane knows, Charlie,” he muttered.
Sloane shifted uncomfortably, her eyes dropping to the floor before meeting mine. “What were you gonna do with all this, Charlie? Why were you watching my dad?”
“I don’t know!” I snapped, the words spilling out louder than I intended. “I wanted to take down anyone who hurt Ana. I didn’t have a plan.”
“And you wanted to take me down because you thought I was threatening your relationship,” Callan interjected coldly. “Because I was suspicious of you, Charlie. Turns out I had every fucking reason to be. Now look at this. Look at this fucking mess.”
“Okay, stop,” Sloane said, raising her hands. “Let’s stop blaming Charlie. It’s clear he didn’t mean any harm,” she said, pausing briefly. “At least…not to my mom.”
Callan huffed but didn’t argue. “So Jake’s threatening to expose you,” he said, his tone still sharp but less cutting. “He’s threatening to tell Sloane about my relapse, which is fucking cruel. What else?”
I exhaled shakily. “He said he could do to me what he did to Sarah.”
Callan sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with his hands. “We need to figure out how he’s staying a step ahead. Who did you go to about the shit with Sarah in jail?”
“I, uh…” I stared at my hands, the weight of the admission sinking in. “I had my assistant, my friend Reese, find someone.”
Callan nodded slowly. “Alright. We start there.”
“The thing is…” I hesitated. “I fired Reese. I don’t know if he’ll help us or not.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Callan muttered, dragging his hands down his face. “Fine. I’ll get it out of him. Give me his number.”
I pulled out my phone, found Reese’s contact information, and handed it to Callan. Without a word, he disappeared into the hallway, leaving Sloane and me alone in the tense silence that filled the room.
She sank onto the edge of the bed where Callan had been, her shoulders heavy with a sigh.
“My dad wasn’t always like this, you know,” she said softly, staring down at her hands. “He was a good dad. A good guy. And then he just threw it all away.” She glanced up at me, her voice sharper now. “You didn’t make this mess, Charlie. My dad did the day he decided to ruin our family.”
Her words took the edge off the guilt gnawing at me. She didn’t hate me, after all. She might have been angry, but now her anger had shifted, redirected to her father.
“Do you still speak with him?” I asked carefully, trying to piece together a plan. Maybe she could help in ways no one else could. An idea began forming in the back of my mind.
She shrugged. “Sometimes. He calls every so often. I only answer maybe half the time. Our relationship is…strained, to say the least. It’s hard to look past everything he did. Now I don’t think I ever want to speak to him again. My mom doesn’t deserve any of this.”
I let out a slow breath. “Do you think you’d speak to him again if it would help your mum?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Of course I would. Why? What are you thinking?”
“Maybe you could call your mum and tell her you’ve found out about Callan,” I said, leaning forward as the plan began to solidify. “Say you’re upset, that you’re having an argument and need to get away. If Jake overhears, he might try to play hero and invite you to the house.”
Sloane’s eyebrows shot up as her mind churned through the idea. Before she could respond, Callan burst through the cracked door. He closed the door behind him, leaning against the dresser as he let out a heavy sigh.
“Well?” I asked impatiently, standing from my chair.
“He talked,” Callan said, his voice clipped. “Not much, but enough.”
“What did you say to him?” Sloane asked as she leaned forward on the bed.
“I told him I’d take what I knew about his involvement with Sarah to the authorities if he didn’t cooperate,” Callan said, his eyes narrowing. “That scared him enough to spill.”
“What did he say?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“He admitted to hiring someone for you—a freelancer named Kenneth Bart,” Callan explained. “I know of him. Bart is one of the best: discreet, thorough, and expensive. You paid him a fortune to watch me and Jake, didn’t you?”
I nodded, guilt pressing hard against my chest. “I wanted someone who could get the job done. I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“Well, congratulations,” Callan said dryly. “Bart might’ve flipped.”
Sloane straightened. “What do you mean?”
“Bart works for whoever pays him the most,” Callan continued. “If Jake figured out someone was watching him, it wouldn’t take much to offer Bart more money. If that’s the case, Jake’s had access to everything you’ve been doing, Charlie. That’s how he’s been staying one step ahead.”
The room fell silent.
“So, what do we do?” I finally asked.
“We find Bart,” Callan said firmly. “If he’s double-dipping, we’ll find out. And if he’s been working for Jake, we might be able to use that to our advantage.”
Sloane, who had been sitting quietly, suddenly perked up. “I think I should call my mom.” She was testing our plan with him.
Callan frowned, his head snapping towards her. “What? No. Absolutely not.”
“Just hear me out,” Sloane said, holding up her hands. “If I tell her I found out about you, that I’m upset and don’t know what to do, my dad might overhear. He’d want to swoop in and play the hero. That could be our opening.”
“It’s too risky,” Callan shot back. “If Jake catches on that it’s a setup, you’ll put her, and yourself, in even more danger.”
“I’m not saying we tell her everything,” Sloane argued. “Just enough to make her believe I’m upset. She won’t question it.”
Callan crossed his arms, shaking his head. “And if Jake doesn’t take the bait?”
“He will,” Sloane said confidently. “You said so yourself—he’s been watching. He’ll think it’s the perfect chance to drive a wedge between us. It’s exactly the kind of move he’d make. He hates us together, Cal.”
Callan’s jaw tightened and for a moment, it seemed like he might shut the idea down. But then he sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. But you need to be convincing, Sloane. If this goes sideways—”
“It won’t,” she interrupted. “We don’t have time to second-guess everything. We need to move…soon.”
Callan nodded reluctantly, his gaze still wary. “Alright. But we stay close. If anything feels off, we pull the plug.”
“Deal,” Sloane said, pulling her phone from her pocket.
“Not yet,” Callan said, resting his hand lightly on hers. “Tomorrow. If you call tonight, it’ll look too obvious. Jake’s probably paranoid and he’ll see through it.”
Sloane hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, yeah. You’re right.”
I let out a heavy sigh, sinking back into the chair. Tomorrow felt like an eternity away. My thoughts spiraled, twisting into dark places I didn’t want to go. What was she enduring right now? What sick games was he playing?
The questions burned, flashing unwelcome images in my mind. Him touching her. Him fucking her. Whispering things in her ear. Did she like it?
I gritted my teeth, biting my lower lip so hard it started to bleed.
“Charlie,” Callan said sharply, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Stop panicking. You’re no good to her if you’re losing it.”
I blinked, forcing a shaky exhale as I dragged my focus back to the room. “I know,” I muttered, though my voice lacked conviction. Even I didn’t believe it.
“She’s strong,” Sloane said quietly, her voice softer than I expected. “She’s been through worse than this. If anyone can hold her own, it’s my mom.”
I nodded stiffly, the words meant to comfort me falling flat. She shouldn’t have to hold her own. That was on me. I should’ve kept her safe.
But my thoughts betrayed me, circling back to the darkest places. She’d told me she wouldn’t let him touch her. She’d said it with such conviction, and I wanted to believe her. But what lengths would she go to if it meant protecting me? Protecting Sloane?
The questions tore at me, leaving no room for rest. I didn’t sleep. Instead, I spent the night pacing the images of my mind, replaying every possibility, every horrible scenario. Each one only made my decision clearer.
I didn’t care what it would take.
I’m going to kill him .