Chapter Twenty-Four
Charlotte
C old.
Empty.
Sad.
I wake with a Cal-sized hole in my chest. He’s gone. I’d hoped he would at least tell me goodbye. Instead, he slipped out soundlessly as though he were nothing more than a dream. My sheets smell like earth and mountain and pine, so I know he was here.
Pulling the pillow he slept on to me, I inhale the fabric and try not to cry. He was so broken last night. I’m responsible for that. I wear it right over my heart like a scarlet letter, warning everyone around me of my crimes.
My phone buzzes with a text and I scramble over to my bedside table, hoping Cal threw me a bone. It makes me feel weak to want the scraps he tosses my way, but I have no choice with Cal. He owns me in ways I don’t understand.
It’s not him.
An unknown number.
My skin crawls as I read the hateful message.
Unknown Number: Everyone knows you’re a whore.
The person sends me a picture of me. I know who took that picture. Ryan Cunningham. My makeup is messy and my eyes are drooping from whatever drug I’m on at the time. What disgusts me is that I’m naked. On my knees. There are other guys in the picture. All of them with their dicks in their hands. The photographer, Ryan, has a grip on my hair, urging me to his dick.
I remember that night.
His friends could look but not touch.
They came on me. In my hair. On my back. My face.
Tears blur the image before me as I remember that night. Disgust sucks the air from my lungs and I gasp desperately for oxygen.
I’m there.
Right there with them.
Feeling them. Hearing them. Tasting Ryan.
Bile creeps up my throat. I want to run away. Or crawl under my bed, hiding forever. Disappear. I want to disappear. I need to forget.
That night I was floating.
A world away.
Lost inside my mind.
I miss that.
“No,” I rasp out.
I don’t miss that.
I fucking hated that.
My fingers shake as I write out a text to Loden.
Me: I need you to ground me.
Lo: Sounds kinky.
A sob escapes me when the unknown number sends another text. I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this.
Flipping over to look at the picture, I cringe at what I see. In someone’s hot tub. Full of guys. Naked. Always naked. My eyes are closed in the picture and I’m half sitting in some random guy’s lap. His hand is on my breast. I don’t remember this one.
Fuck.
Another picture.
Not as bad as the rest because you can’t see my face, but I know it’s me. Ryan’s dick inside me. Dried cum smeared all over my stomach. Bruises all over my thighs—ones Ryan put there.
I’m going to be sick.
Another picture.
This one, my skirt is pushed up my thighs as I lie face down over the hood of a police car. My head is lying in a pool of vomit. I don’t remember this one either. I recognize the surroundings as being at Ryan’s house, and that’s most certainly his dad’s squad car.
Unknown Number: You don’t think I have hundreds of these? Keep trying to ignore me. Keep spreading fucking lies. Hard to prove you’re a good girl when I know you’re not.
My phone starts to ring, making me shriek. I toss it on the bed, trembling. Quickly, I scramble to my feet. A cold shower will numb my brain to those terrible images. I strip out of my clothes and take an icy cold shower. It does wonders to take my mind off things. All I can think about is the cold. How it hurts. It just hurts. By the time I climb out, my teeth are chattering and my lips are blue. I pull on a black pair of panties and grab the first shirt I can find. The white fabric hangs just past my ass, but it’s good enough for now. I crawl beneath the covers, seeking refuge. It’s then I work up the courage to read my texts.
Lo: Kidding.
Lo: What’s up?
Lo: Char, baby, are you okay?
Twelve missed calls from Loden.
Lo: You’re starting to freak me the fuck out. We both can’t be falling off the wagon at once. Let me know you’re okay.
With trembling hands, I reply back to him.
Me: I’ll be okay.
Lo: Thank fuck. Jesus, woman, don’t scare me like that.
Me: I’m sorry.
Lo: It’s okay, baby. I love you. I’m going to see you soon.
Me: Love you too.
I straighten my spine, harnessing whatever bravery I have left inside me to open the other texts from Ryan.
Unknown Number: You’re nothing without me.
Unknown Number: No one can love a whore.
Unknown Number: I hate you.
Unknown Number: I need to see you.
Unknown Number: I still fucking love you even though you’re a disgusting bitch.
Unknown Number: When we get back together, you’re going to stop getting naked for other guys. Only me. To think you actually thought you could be a mother.
Unknown Number: Would your daughter be a whore too?
He must have gotten pissed that I didn’t respond because he sent me at least ten more pictures, all of which I was either passed out or half out of it. Each one I was naked and in some sort of sexual situation. It takes everything in me to find the words to respond.
Me: Fuck off, Ryan. I’m not yours anymore.
The dots are moving even as I go to block him. I never see his response and I’m thankful for that.
Someone bangs on the front door and I let out a surprised yelp.
Cal.
I won’t cry in front of him. Not now. Not when his world is crashing down around him. Diving deep, I search for all the strength I possess so I can be strong for him. Ryan can go to hell. He does not rule my life anymore.
Rushing down the hall, I make it to the door and fling it open, eager to fall into his arms.
The man staring at me is not Cal.
Tall. Solid muscle. Violence shining in his amber eyes.
A bigger, crazier, meaner version of my brother-in-law.
“Are you okay?” the soft voice beside him asks, drawing my gaze away.
Roux.
It’s Roux and…her dad.
Of course I don’t know this for certain, but it’s pretty obvious based on looks alone.
I nod, unable to keep my eyes from him. He stands easily six feet tall. Tattoos crawl up his neck. His dark hair is cut in a similar style as Roan’s flopping over one eye in a careless way. When his gaze sweeps over my body with mild interest, it’s then I realize I’m barely dressed.
“Oh,” I squeak out. “Come in. I just got out of the shower.”
Leaving them in the doorway, I rush back to my room. I find a pair of jeans and yank off the T-shirt to hunt for a bra. Once I find a black bra and a yellow Horn River Cheerleader tank top, I run a brush through my hair and then brush my teeth. I still look like hell, but at least I have clothes on. When I finally make my way to the living room, I find Roux and her father sitting side by side on the sofa.
“Where’s Jordy?” I ask, cautiously approaching my best friend.
“Work,” she says. “Dad showed up and…” She trails off, panic glinting in her eyes. “There’s no room at our place and Roan is being an idiot.”
Her dad snorts out a laugh. “He tried to whip my ass, baby girl.”
Roux grins at his endearment. “He did.”
“Oh boy,” I let out in a rush of air.
“I’m Jace Hirsch,” Jace greets, offering a large, masculine hand that’s colored with tattoos. “And you must be the best friend.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I shake his hand. “That’s me. Uh, nice to meet you.”
This guy isn’t overly huge. Not as tall as Cal. Not even as bulky as Roan or Hollis these days for as much time they put in at the gym. But he exudes power. It’s in the intense glow of his coppery eyes. The hard set of his jaw and the way it clenches in tune with the way the muscle in his neck does. Like he’s a rubber band being pulled and snapped. Pulled and snapped. Pulled and snapped. One day, the rubber is going to break, flipping around and smacking everyone around him in the process.
His grin is disarming.
A hook.
Something he uses to lure people into his arm’s reach.
Neither of his children smile a ton, so it’s strange seeing the man who created them grinning so freely.
I put much needed space between myself and the man who unnerves me. “So you’re out of prison now?” I ask, trying and failing to make good conversation.
“Crazy, huh?” Roux asks, rubbing her cute stomach.
“My kids grew up,” Jace grunts. “Kids are having kids now. I lost a whole lot in there.”
The room grows silent and uncomfortable.
“Right, so would you like some coffee?” I ask, keeping my voice peppy and polite.
“Sure, babe. Don’t give me any of that black shit. I like a lot of sugar, sugar.” He smiles again, his amber eyes twinkling.
“Okay,” I mutter. “Roux, want to come with me?”
Jace gives me a knowing smirk as he leans back on the sofa and threads his fingers behind his head, making his biceps bulge. “I promise not to listen in on you two talking about me.”
I hurry into the kitchen, needing to be out of that man’s vicinity. Roux waddles in shortly after, chewing on her bottom lip.
“This is weird, isn’t it?” she asks.
I start a pot of coffee and nod. “Completely.”
“He’s not going to hurt you,” she assures me. “I promise.”
My smile is weak. I don’t know that I actually believe her words, but I want to. For her. This is her dad and she seems happy to have him here. Like my own father, he doesn’t look a day over forty. Dad keeps fit from the building’s gym and good diet, but Jace is cut in a way only prison can do to a man. The same way Jordy is.
“You’re just out visiting?” I ask lightly.
“Actually, your dad asked us to meet him here. Samantha is Dad’s lawyer. She wants to have a meeting. Garrett offered for them to come here.”
Penny stumbles into the kitchen, her blond hair messy and in her face. She’s wearing a huge hoodie that looks like she stole from our brother and Nike sweats. I open my mouth to warn her about Jace, but she’s still groggy from sleep. She grabs a banana and heads into the living room, plopping down on the sofa.
I quickly make a cup of coffee for Jace, making sure to sweeten it up as requested. When Roux and I walk back into the living room, Jace is watching Penny with amusement as she eats her banana like she was raised in a barn.
“Why is there a convict sitting on Dad’s sofa?” Penny asks, her mouth full of banana. “Is Dad taking on more pet projects?” She swallows and arches a brow at him. “You’re not like going to be our stepdaddy now, are you?”
“Penny!” I shriek, scowling at her. “Stop talking.”
“What?” Penny grumbles. “He’s not drooling all over the way your tits are hanging out of that tank you should have retired last year, so he must be gay. Is that even genetic? You’re totally Roan’s bad dad, right? It’s the eyes. Also, that stupid hair.”
Jace starts laughing, a deep chuckle at first, and then he’s laughing so hard he’s tearing up. I set his coffee down and pin her with an angry glare.
“Penny,” I hiss. “Go to your room.”
Penny laughs. “Oh, you were serious. In that case, no. I’ll stay right here. Someone has to make sure Dad’s boyfriend gets the third degree. Gotta make sure he’s not gonna break his heart.”
“Dad’s not gay!” I snap. “And I’m sure Jace doesn’t appreciate the third degree. Leave him alone.”
“Man,” Jace says once he’s composed himself. “Did I miss girls or what? Fuckin’ entertaining as hell. Penny, eh? You got a mouth on you.”
“She has no filter,” Roux says. “It gets her in trouble sometimes.”
Penny rolls her eyes. “For the record, it hasn’t gotten me in trouble yet.”
I’m about to remind her that she ran her mouth the other day at school and got in trouble, but the front door opens, interrupting me. Dad strides in with his gorgeous lawyer in tow. It’s barely ten in the morning and she looks like Courtroom Barbie in her sexy suit and perfect hair.
Gag.
Samantha is beautiful and fierce, and helped me when I needed it most, but something about her makes me cringe.
“Hey, kids,” Dad greets, looking handsome and put together in a Polo shirt and slacks in comparison to Jace, who’s scary in his tight white T-shirt and holey jeans. “I see you’ve met Mr. Hirsch.”
Jace shakes his head as he stands. “No one’s called me mister in a while. You must be my son-in-law’s dad. The one who had a problem with his boy being gay.”
Jace faces off with my dad and for one tense moment, I’m afraid Jace will take a swing at him. Dad lifts his chin and steps closer, offering his hand to Jace.
“I’ve atoned for my sins against my son. Have you with yours ?”
Jace winces at his words. “Still working on it, man.”
Samantha pushes them apart. “Now that the pissing match is over, let’s get right to it because I have a date later. I want to get this squared away.”
“A date?” Jace says, laughing. “With who?”
“It doesn’t matter. We need to—” she starts but is cut off by Jace.
“With Boardroom Bill here?” Jace’s taunting smirk is just like Roan’s.
“I’m not answering that question,” Samantha sasses, smacking his arm. “Stop being a child and focus for five seconds. You need a place to stay. Roan has made it abundantly clear you’re not welcome there. Jordy and Roux can’t house you either because their space isn’t big enough. Therefore, I’ve discussed it with Garrett and—”
“Who the fuck is Garrett?” Jace deadpans.
“Blondie’s boyfriend,” Penny chimes in, waving her hand between Samantha and Dad. “Keep up, convict.”
Dad scowls. “Samantha is not my girlfriend.” Then, to Jace he says, “Here. You can stay here.”
I shoot Roux a questioning look. Her amber eyes plead with mine. She wants her dad to be close by and for him to have a chance.
“We just moved in, though,” I croak out. “There’s nowhere to stay.”
“I think we just became bedmates, sis,” Penny states. “At least with this big, scary convict here, it’ll keep that piece of shit Ryan away.” She shrugs like having this dude come live with us isn’t terrifying.
“Who’s Ryan?” Jace asks, his glowing eyes locking on me.
“The fucker who ruined my daughter’s life,” Dad snaps. “If I ever see him again, I will—”
“Don’t finish that thought,” Samantha bites out. “Too many witnesses. If you did, later on down the road, I’ll have a helluva lot harder time getting you off.”
Jace and Penny both snort.
Children.
“Garrett says he has a connection with a construction company. They take on ex-convicts and other riff-raff like you,” Samantha tells Jace, grinning. “You take the job. Swing your hammer around. Get paid. And when you get on your feet, for the love of God, go find your own place so you’re not freeloading off these poor people.”
“Sammy here is a hardass,” Jace reveals. “Always bustin’ balls. Gary, does she bust your balls too? Are you into that sort of kink?”
“Daddy, can we keep him?” Penny asks, an evil glint in her blue eyes. “I always wanted a pet convict.”
Dad scrubs his palm down his face. “Samantha, I’ve got this. Get to your date. Thank you.”
She waggles her finger at Jace, winking at him, before she sashays out of the loft. Dad motions for everyone to sit. Roux sits down between her father and Penny. Dad and I each take an armchair.
“Ryan Cunningham is a cop’s kid. He’s an abusive prick who not only hurt my Charlotte, but he tried to rape her.” Dad delivers his words with fiery venom. “If you see him, watch out. He’s fucking trouble.”
All humor fades from Jace.
His amber eyes cut over to me, slicing me open with one gaze. “That true, sugar?”
“Unfortunately,” I admit.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You have my word, little girl. I’ll look after you.”
Dad reaches over and squeezes my hand. “Now that we have that out of the way, let’s talk about some house rules.”
Jace and Penny both laugh again while Roux and I cringe.
“Rules, Gary? It’s like you forgot who you were talkin’ to.” Jace winks at me and then nudges Roux with his shoulder. “But don’t worry. I won’t fuck with your shit, steal your shit, or ruin your shit. I will, however, give you shit, but that’s all for shits and giggles.” He points at Penny, then me, and finally Roux. “But this right here? These girls? That shit’s off-limits.”
“Agreed,” Dad mumbles.
“Cool. You can do the old man blood pact and virgin sacrificing later,” Penny states and then smacks Jace’s thigh. “Pet, you want breakfast? I can make us some bacon.”
Dad rolls his eyes and waves them off. “Whatever. Don’t burn my kitchen down.”