Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Lillian
“ C harlie?”
I’ve definitely walked in on something I’m not supposed to see. The sound of something shattering attracted me. Notably, it didn’t bother Charlie’s sister. She seemed happy and chuckled to herself before settling deeper into the couch with her phone. Since her attention wasn’t on me, I got up without a word to see if I could help with anything.
I don’t know if that was a good idea or not.
Charlie is standing there with his back to me, fending off his mother’s raised arm with one hand. Her eyes fly to me at my interruption, and she wrenches free angrily.
“You don’t get to behave that way anymore,” Charlie says quietly to her. Her eyes are darting between me and him.
“What has gotten into you?” she hisses. Her eyes are wild and uncomfortably familiar. The scene makes me start to feel sick, but before I can slink away, Charlie whirls around and grabs me by the arm.
“Come on,” he orders and tugs me along through a hall and to the front door, avoiding the living room.
“Wh— you’re leaving?” Sadie calls, and I hear her jump up from the couch. “What happened? What did you do?”
Since he doesn’t say anything, I don’t either. When his mother mentioned coffee, I nearly screamed. I couldn’t stand another second of suffocating in their joyless presence, even with coffee.
But I would have.
His mother was right. I do have a lot to depend on Charlie for. So far, it doesn’t seem like I’m doing a good job of holding up my end of the bargain. I don’t know what he’ll think of my performance today—or what he’s thinking in general.
Sadie continues to shout after us as we exit the house. Waiting in the driveway is the same black car, but Charlie’s usual man isn’t behind the wheel.
It’s the driver I didn’t want to see, just what I need. With the same kind of dread I feel, he glances at me quickly, then looks away.
Whatever, I have much more important things to think about than him.
Charlie lets me go, so I walk over to my side of the car and let myself in. I drop in heavily, suddenly fatigued by the brief afternoon, and wait for us to pull off.
The dread eating me up doesn’t go away even as I ignore the driver. It’s not just him.
It’s Charlie’s mom.
I wanted her to be sweet and welcoming, but something about Charlie’s personality tipped me off that she’d be her own kind of force. Too bad she was a force like my dad, controlling and physical when she didn’t get her way. That unhinged look in her eyes… My dad got the same way after he hit the bottle. It’s more terrifying to think that she was sober. At least my dad would eventually pass out and give us a break.
But anything, everything, could set him off. There weren’t “accidents” in our house, just failures.
I look over at Charlie beside me as we pull off. He’s staring at his phone, idly scrolling the news. Is he trying to put the incident behind him already?
I want to reach out to him, but I’m afraid I’ll feel cold stone in the place of flesh. He’s been so far from me since?—
Hurt bubbles up in my chest. I look down at my lap, recounting the events again.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Charlie when he was campaigning the last month. It felt so juvenile. The guy gets me off in a closet, and that’s enough to get me smitten.
It was how he praised me.
I feel my cheeks get warm as I think about it.
I did something right, and it felt good pleasing him. The moment was chaos. But the aftermath of it hit me hard, when we were leaving the cafe, no one the wiser.
I want him to praise me more.
But that’s not going to happen. He’s been so out of reach ever since I did whatever I did. I can’t figure that one out. One moment, he seemed like regular old Charlie, out of reach but in the usual way. Then he’s storming my room, turned into a man I’ve never seen before.
It couldn’t have been just my clothes.
Maybe he was just taking other frustrations out on me?
I’ve been carefully sorting through my clothes since then, making piles of what I’ll toss or keep, just in case.
I was hoping he’d like the tube top.
I keep telling myself that what happened on the floor was punishment. He liked to do it.
I bite my lip, feeling him inside me again. I press my thighs hard together.
He was an animal, repugnant, savagely reducing me to something cheap that can be thrown away.
He liked it. He liked using me that way.
When I glance up, the driver looks uncomfortable, but I don’t catch his eye. He must have seen me. I suddenly get the urge to kick the back of his seat (which is out of my reach).
Stop looking at me when I’m thinking my private thoughts!! I yell inwardly.
I steal a glance at Charlie, who hasn’t budged from his phone. I want to?—
“What do you want?”
“What?” I’m so shocked that I can’t help my reply. His voice is so flat, it’s like a robot is talking to me. I didn’t think he’d notice me, and I’m embarrassed to have been caught.
“You’re looking at me. What do you want?”
“Uh. Oh, um,” I can’t get it out. Whatever I say, I know he’s too far from me to actually engage. This is beyond the distance he’s subjected me to over the past few days. I don’t think I’ve seen him like this.
“Yes?”
Honestly, I have a lot I want to ask him. Better go with the latest thing.
“What was going on in the kitchen?”
“Couldn’t you tell?” he replies gruffly, shifting in his seat with irritation.
I was intentionally vague to give him a chance to talk on his own. That’s not going to happen, so.
I clear my throat and try again.
“Did that happen often to you?” I don’t want the driver to know what we’re talking about, but I want to try to get Charlie to open up.
“No, I rarely knock over things.” He shifts again, like he’s trying to shrug something off. He’s trying to shrug me off.
“It happened to me a lot. Me and Amber.” I watch his face, but he doesn’t react. “After my mom died, it started happening more often. She wasn’t around to…”
“Keep you from knocking cups over?”
“Yeah. I know how hard it is to avoid them. You knock enough over, and eventually, you start looking for cups everywhere. You tiptoe around, try to lay down soft things just in case you accidentally knock a cup over anyway. It’s hard, especially for a kid.”
“You’re an adult now, Lillian.”
I remember what he said to his mother in the kitchen, the wild look in her eyes as he stopped her from doing something she probably did often, so often that it was second nature.
“Even if things change, the fear stays.”
He doesn’t acknowledge me. He taps away on his phone, and I know that’s as far as I’m getting. His tone of voice tells me he’s not there.
But I want to keep talking to him.
I want to ask him…
Ask him what?
If taking me on the floor meant anything to him?
I know it didn’t. It shouldn’t have.
Maybe I want to know if he’ll do it again.
If I can be good somehow?
I fold my arms across my chest and stare out the window, conflicted, annoyed at myself, ashamed.
I know he’s just using me, like I’m using him.
But I didn’t know it could feel so good to get used.
“When we get home, go back to your room,” Charlie says quietly. “I’ll tell you when you can come out.”
If the driver heard him, he doesn’t react. My face burns with embarrassment, but I nod.
“Yes, Charlie.”