28. Charlie
28
Charlie
I crouched near the window, staring out at the faint glow of the lights in the lake house in the distance. We were in the vacant lake house next door, though it was about 100 meters away. Every second we waited felt like torture. My jaw was clenched tight, my palms sweaty despite the biting cold of Maryland.
Behind me, Callan leaned against the wall, arms crossed like he had all the time in the world. His calm demeanor irritated me, but I knew it wasn’t indifference—it was experience. He’d been here before, maybe not in this exact situation, but close enough.
“It’s been hours,” I muttered, the words escaping before I could stop them. “Still nothing.”
“That’s a good thing,” Callan replied, his voice maddeningly composed.
I turned to face him. “How the fuck is that good? They’re in there with him and we’re sitting here doing nothing.”
He pushed off the wall, meeting my glare head-on. “We’re not doing nothing,” he said sharply. “We’re waiting. Bart did his job. Jake doesn’t know we’re here. That’s what matters.”
I let out a sharp breath, trying to keep the frustration hidden. “We’re putting all this on a guy who’s been working for Jake. How do we know he won’t just double back and sell us out?”
Callan’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a sharper edge. “Because we paid him more than Jake ever did. Bart doesn’t have loyalty, he has a price. And we made sure ours was higher.”
It made sense, but it didn’t feel like enough. I ran a hand through my hair, pacing near the window. “And you think that’s all it takes?”
“Yep,” Callan said simply. “He told us everything. And now he’s been feeding Jake bullshit to keep him off our backs. Right now, Jake thinks you’re still in New York, and that’s why we’re here, waiting for our time to strike.”
I stopped pacing, staring out at the lake house. My chest ached with the unknown.
“What about Sloane?” I asked, my voice quieter now. “Have you heard anymore from her?”
Callan stepped closer, his expression softening just slightly. “She’s keeping an eye on them. Says they both went up to their room, but she’s lingering around, trying to catch him off guard.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. The thought of Ana in there with him made my stomach churn. And Sloane…fuck, if I dragged her into this, if either of them got hurt, I’d never forgive myself.
“They’re both tough,” Callan added, as if reading my mind. “And fucking smart. They’ll be okay.”
I let out a shaky breath, gripping the window frame as I stared into the night. “I hate this,” I muttered. “I hate waiting. I hate knowing they’re in there with him.”
“I know,” Callan said. “But we have to do this right. Jake’s dangerous, and if we rush in blind, we’ll just give him more power. Bart gave us this chance. Jake has no idea we’re here. We use it.”
I nodded stiffly. The waiting was killing me, but Callan was right. Bart had flipped for the money, and now we had to trust that he’d done his part.
A moment later, Callan’s phone vibrated loudly in his pocket. He answered, putting the call on speaker. There was no greeting, just faint, muffled sounds. I realized Sloane called and hid the phone, likely in her pocket.
“Get your phone out. Record this,” Callan whispered, gesturing to his phone.
I nodded, pulling my phone out.
Through the static came Jake’s voice, sharp and angry.
“You think you’re clever, don’t you, Ana?” he snapped. “Sneaking around, thinking you can manipulate me?”
“I’m not doing anything,” Ana replied, her voice wavering but still steady.
Jake laughed coldly. “You really think I believe that? You always were a terrible liar. You think I don’t know what you’ve been up to? That Charlie hasn’t been sniffing around?”
My blood boiled at the sound of my name on his lips, but I stayed silent.
“You’re paranoid,” Ana said, her tone sharper now. “No one’s coming for me, Jake. You’ve made sure of that.”
“Paranoid?” he shouted, and then there was a crashing sound, like a chair had been turned over. “You don’t get to call me paranoid. Not after what your pathetic little boyfriend did, trying to get into my business.”
“Leave him out of this,” Ana shot back loudly.
“Why should I?” Jake snarled. “You think he’s going to protect you? He’s nothing. And if he shows his face here, he’s dead. Do you hear me? Dead.”
Callan’s jaw tightened beside me but he stayed silent.
Then, Sloane’s voice cut through, muffled but clear. “What are you talking about? Why are you threatening Charlie?”
There was a pause, the kind that made my chest fill with dread.
“Sloane,” Jake said, his voice cold. “How long have you been standing there?”
More muffled shuffling came through the line, and then Sloane spoke again, her tone firmer. “Long enough. What are you doing? Why are you threatening Mom and Charlie?”
Jake let out a low, humorless laugh. “Oh, sweetheart. You really don’t understand how the world works, do you?”
“Then explain it to me,” Sloane pressed.
“You want the truth?” Jake said, his voice hardening. “Fine. I’m the reason Sarah’s gone. You’re welcome. She thought she could play me, just like your mother does. But no one crosses me and gets away with it. And your mother is only here because she’s protecting her precious boyfriend since he’s the one who started all of this.”
My stomach dropped. Callan stiffened beside me as he processed Jake’s words.
“Wait. You had Sarah killed ?” Sloane asked, her voice full of disbelief. I was impressed with how well she was feigning ignorance.
Jake scoffed. “She was a liability. Just like Charlie will be if he comes anywhere near this house.”
“You’re insane,” Sloane said, her voice stronger now.
Jake’s tone turned icy. “Careful, Sloane. You don’t want to push me.”
“You’re threatening Mom, threatening Charlie, and you think I’m just going to stand here and let you?” she snapped.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then Jake spoke, his voice low and menacing. “You keep pushing, and Callan’s next. Do you hear me? You keep your mouth shut, or I’ll make sure he’s gone too.”
My eyes widened with horror. Was he going to turn on his own daughter?
“Stop it!” Ana said in the background, her voice filled with anger. “You’re scaring her.”
“She should be scared,” Jake shot back. “You both should be.”
“Mom!”
The call ended abruptly, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.
Callan and I glanced at each other with an unspoken understanding.
“This isn’t good,” he said, already moving. “He’s escalated too quickly. Let’s move. Now.”
We were out the door before I could even think.
“What’s the plan?” I asked Callan, eyeing the .45 he packed in his waistband.
“This is for the worst case scenario, Charlie. We go in and tell him we have this shit on him, threaten him, and go on our merry way with Ana and Sloane,” he explained calmly, our shoes crunching on the leaves as we stepped outside, the cold air biting my cheeks.
I felt for the pocket knife in my jeans. It was there, just as always.
“You don’t think he’s gonna fight it?” I asked cautiously.
“I don’t fucking know, Charlie. He might. Be prepared for anything.”
My heart raced as we glided towards the house, but the sheer anticipation I felt kept my adrenaline high.
“We go through the back door. Follow my lead. Got it?” he asked, stopping as we took in a perfect view of the house just ahead.
I nodded. “Got it.”
We began for the house again, pacing quickly ahead, and I knew I’d do whatever it took to keep Ana, even Sloane, safe.
There was a sudden commotion inside as we approached it; there was some muffled yelling and a loud clunk, like something—or someone—dropping to the floor. Callan ran ahead and I followed, and as he swung the back door open, there was Jake getting up from the floor. There was blood dripping down his temple, his hand held firmly against it. Sloane and Ana were gone. I looked down to find a ceramic vase and plant shattered on the floor.
“Callan,” he said as he turned around, noticing him first, then locked eyes with me. “Charlie,” he spit out, his voice low and venomous. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Where’s Sloane and Ana?” Callan asked, leaving no room for me to answer.
He pointed to the front door that was wide open, headlights pulling out of the driveway. “Ana hit me then took off with Sloane. Which was stupid of them, really. Now they’ve just sealed both of your fates.”
Callan let out a bitter laugh. “Tough guy now, huh, Jake? It doesn’t fit you,” he retorted.
“I’ve always been like this. I’ve just been good at hiding it,” Jake shot back, then turned to me with a glare.
My anger was simmering with each passing second.
“Well, that’s gonna serve you well in prison, bud, ‘cause we got your confession on Sarah,” Callan said, causing Jake to break our eye contact as he turned back to him.
“That’s rich,” Jake said with a bitter laugh. “That’s all you’ve got? What is it, an audio recording? That’ll never hold up in court.”
“Yeah, so maybe we should just fucking kill him, Callan,” I said through gritted teeth.
Jake turned back to me, his eyebrows shooting up. “And so he speaks!” he said mockingly. “And you ? Kill me ?“ His mocking laugh returned.
“No one’s killing anyone,” Callan quickly interjected.
“He might want to once he knows what Ana and I did…” Jake said, holding onto the couch now, the blood from his wound drying on his hand.
My blood began to boil. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
Jake smiled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the couch. “Nothing she didn’t already want,” he said smugly.
I inched forward, discreetly grabbing my pocket knife. “She didn’t want you. She was here to protect me ,” I said through gritted teeth.
His eyebrows shot up. “And whose fault is that?” he asked mockingly as he adjusted his stance confidently. “Sure seemed like she wanted to be here when I felt her perfect pussy clench around my fingers—”
I snapped, my vision red, and without another thought, I lunged towards him as I flipped the blade out from my knife. I fisted Jake’s shirt while I held the knife up high and plunged it deep in his chest with all my strength. Callan’s hands were on my arms, pulling me back, but he was too late. Jake’s eyes widened as he looked down at the knife, collapsing to his feet.
My heart raced, and I was breathless as I watched him fall to the ground with a thud, his eyes fluttering shut, blood flooding from his body.
“Charlie! Fuck!” Callan yelled, but it sounded like he was a million miles away as I watched the life drain from Jake’s eyes. “You just turned this into a fucking murder scene, you idiot. We had him. We had the recording—”
“And it wouldn’t have been enough,” I shot back, my voice rising. “He would’ve found a way. He would’ve hurt them.”
Callan cursed under his breath, kneeling beside Jake. He pressed two fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse.
“He’s still alive,” Callan muttered, his voice grim. “But not for long.”
He stood abruptly, grabbing my shoulder and forcing me to look at him. “We don’t have time for this. We need to clean this up before anyone else shows up.”
Just as he said it, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I snatched it out, Ana’s name flashing on the screen.
I answered immediately, putting it on speaker. “Ana?”
“We’re out,” she said, her voice shaky but full of relief. “I’m driving, heading to town. I hit him, Charlie. I hit him hard, and we ran. I don’t think he’s following us.”
Her voice rooted me back to reality, her beautiful voice like music to my ears. “Ana, fuck, I’ve missed you. You did so good, mi diosa . You took him down and we got to him. He’s not going anywhere.”
I looked up at Callan and he shook his head, as if urging me not to tell them.
“Sloane said you guys planned all of this. Baby,” she choked up. “Where is Jake now?” she asked, composing herself.
“He’s restrained. We’re talking to him. We’ll take care of it. You two head back to the hotel in D.C. We’ll meet you there,” Callan answered before I could even think.
“Please be careful,” Sloane’s voice rang through. “I’ve never seen him like this. He’s fucking lost it,” she said, her voice shaking.
“We will, baby. I love you,” he said softly, and I glanced up at him, his face a look of determination.
“I love you too,” she said back.
“Charlie,” Ana cut in again. “I love you.”
I smiled, forgetting where I was as I turned and found Jake’s lifeless body on the ground. “I love you too. More than anything.”
The call ended and I looked up at Callan. “What now?”
Callan moved quickly. “Don’t touch anything. We’re gonna wrap him in that rug and get him out of here. I’ll come back and make sure we’ve cleaned up without a trace.”
I stared at him, the weight of what I’d done finally starting to sink in. “What are we gonna do with him?”
“We’re gonna dump him out in the bay. If no one finds him, no one knows,” he explained, moving the couch that covered the rug.
I blinked before moving to the rug to help him, wiping the blood off my hand on my jeans. “You’ve done this before.”
Callan didn’t respond at first, carefully moving Jake’s body to line him up with the rug. He eyed me carefully as I began to help. “Let’s just say I’ve cleaned up messes like this. Now stop wasting time yapping and help me get this done.”