Chapter 36 Charlotte
Charlotte
My eyes are wide. I’ve never seen a real fistfight before. Thank God Preston is still in school.
Spinning around, Sutton, wide-eyed, steps closer, his breathing hard. From protecting me.
“You alright? Are you hurt?” His hands land on my shoulders, hot, firm, scanning me for injuries. His jaw might be tight, but his fingers are careful, as if confirming I’m whole will bring him some peace. I swallow roughly as I look at his swelling eye, split lip, and raw knuckles.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” I hate how shaky I sound.
“I don’t give a shit how I am. I need to know you’re okay, baby,” his tone edging on desperation.
All I can do is nod before exhaling. “I’m okay.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me, but before he can say anything else, the door chimes as Tanner strides back inside.
“They’re gone.” Dragging his fingers through his hair, Tanner huffs a breath. “I called Sawyer and the sheriff.”
Hudson grumbles. “What assholes.”
I glance at the local doctor, who’s disheveled, his shirt ruffled, his cheek slightly bruised, looking as rattled as I feel.
My body trembles from the inside out as I try to regulate my breathing.
One moment, fear. The next, chaos. A full-on fight.
Sutton throwing punches like his life depended on it.
Tanner’s gaze flicks between us all. “What happened?”
“He was touching Nikki. I lost it,” Sutton murmurs.
“He touched you?” Tanner’s voice sharpens, focus snapping to me.
I pull myself together, piecing my words into place. “Rochelle’s with the sheriff, so I was alone. They walked in, started getting… suggestive. Then he touched me. I pushed him off, told them to leave, but he did it again, and then…” Sutton was there.
Sutton's hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer, rubbing my lower back slowly, grounding me, telling me I’m safe now. I want to believe him, but I’m too shaken up to think straight.
Only a few minutes later, Rochelle barrels through the back door, the sheriff at her heels.
“What’s going on?” she rushes out, eyes wide and worried.
We rehash everything as Rochelle closes the diner for the afternoon, locking the doors being the first thing she does.
“Those boys are good for nothing… I should’ve kicked them out weeks ago.
I could tell they were bad news. I can’t believe they were the ones who mugged you.
” She shakes her head. When I admitted that, I could tell she was hurt I didn’t tell her sooner.
“We need ice.” Her gaze is full of concern before disappearing into the kitchen as the sheriff stares at us all with a critical eye.
I wring my hands. They won’t stop shaking.
“Come here.” Sutton’s voice is soft, feeling like a safe space. I don’t hesitate. I go to him, slamming into his chest as he pulls me tightly to him.
“I’m fine, really. Just trying to calm down,” I whisper, even though my bones still feel like they’re rattling inside me.
“I know.” His grip is steady, warm, rubbing long strokes up and down my back. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I’m sorry he touched you, and I’m sorry there was a scuffle. But when he touched you, all I saw was red.”
I lift his hand, seeing it bruised, the torn skin raw across his knuckles.
“When capillaries heal, they undergo a process called angiogenesis, where new blood vessels form to replace damaged ones.” The words fall out unconsciously, my brain trying to find order in the mess of everything.
“There she is.” Sutton’s small, swollen smile is one of pure adoration, his lips pressing against my temple.
Looking up at him, my brow pinches, hating that it’s come to this. “He’s going to tell the media about you.”
“He will.” Sutton expression is unreadable.
“What will we do?” I already know the answer. The second the news spreads, everything changes for us. Sutton pulls me against him tighter, and I want to bury my head in his chest and ignore it all.
Sutton’s about to answer me when Sawyer bursts in, suit open, tie askew, like he’s just run a marathon. “I came as soon as I could. What the hell happened?”
“We’re outed.” Sutton stands tall, all eyes on us. I’m shaking, my stomach clenching, and I wonder if I need to dash to the bathroom.
I know what I have to do. I have to let him go. But I don’t want to. Panic climbs through my veins, threatening to strangle me as I glance at the wall clock. School is almost out. Can I get Preston, dash home for my go-bag, and then disappear before morning?
Sutton must hear me thinking, his hand cupping my cheek so my eyes meet his.
“Oh no. You don’t get to look at me like that.” His voice is rough, low, unwavering, his grip on my waist tightening to keep me from running away, and the one on my cheek, gentle yet possessive.
“Like what?” I swallow my denial, my survival instincts pinging.
“Like you’re leaving me. You don’t get to do that.” He’s firm. I frown, trying to understand what he’s saying.
“Do what?”
Something in his eyes changes as he looks into mine. “You don’t get to make me fall in love with you and then skip town.”
Silence slams into the diner like a freight train, and my heart stops before restarting with new life. I wonder briefly if I’m going to faint as I look up at him, his eyes boring into mine.
“Shit,” Hudson mutters.
Sawyer stares, open-mouthed, at his brother.
But Sutton’s gaze is unyielding.
And me? I can’t move. I can’t speak. I’m stuck in shock. He hasn’t let me go. I want to tell him that I love him too. That I feel the same. But I’m so damn scared.
Rochelle clears her throat, breaking the moment. Sutton’s attention finally shifts, his hand dropping from my cheek and taking my hand.
“Sorry, Rochelle. I’ll pay for cleanup, security, whatever you need once the story breaks.
” His voice is businesslike now, composed, like he’s flipping a switch.
“Tanner, the brand launch might take a hit. Hudson, I hate that you got dragged into this. You’ve all been incredibly kind, and I appreciate you keeping my identity hidden.
I’m sorry for today and for whatever comes next. ”
He squeezes my hand, and bile rises in my throat.
Rochelle frowns. “Don’t go apologizing for something that isn’t your fault.”
“The brand launch will be fine. We have contingency plans.” Tanner waves it off, unaffected.
“You can hide at home,” Sawyer offers. “Both of you.” His gaze flicks to me, sincerity in his tone.
I’m overwhelmed by how fiercely this town protects him. Protects me. Protects us.
“I can’t do that to you and Annabelle and the boys,” Sutton says. “We both know Whispers will be flooded by morning. Cameras, reporters, there will be no escaping it.”
“I’ll get extra men, if needed,” the sheriff says.
“You’ll need it.” Sutton doesn’t sound relieved.
“We also need to be ready in case those men press charges,” the sheriff adds, looking at him pointedly.
Sutton nods. “Sawyer will know where to contact me.”
“Where will you go?” Sawyer asks.
Sutton exhales, thoughtful. “There’s only one place that can hide us a little longer, just a week or so, until we figure out our next steps.”
I frown, biting the inside of my lip. “What does that mean?”
Sutton’s eyes lock on mine once more, the intensity there so unlike him. This man has my back. “Do you trust me, Tinker Bell?”
“With my life,” I admit easily, because I do. His eyes soften, and a small smile pulls at his lips.
I have a feeling things are about to get crazier.
We got Preston from school, and Sutton drove us straight to the cottage, where we frantically packed enough to last a week before locking the place up tight.
There was an old sign warning trespassers that Sutton put up on the front fence, the gate that has mostly remained open for us now firmly locked as well, not to mention, the shutters on every window closed.
In this dreary weather, the cottage looks about as inviting as a horror movie.
Preston had questions, and I answered them all truthfully, but now, we sit in Sawyer’s kitchen in thick silence. Annabelle watches us, concern flickering in her eyes as Sutton shoves clothes into a bag, his movements clipped, restless.
Sawyer grips a glass of whiskey, leaning against the counter. "Pack light. You’ll be back."
Clinging to the words, I try to believe them. Whispers is the first place that’s felt like home since Mom passed. But if I have to leave, I will.
“I know.” Sutton’s tone is flat, forced, his body tense as he yanks the zipper closed.
I reach out, my fingers wrapping around his hand. He’s warm. Strong. Trembling.
“It’s okay. We’re okay.”
His breath shudders as he turns, pulling me close, holding on like he’s trying to absorb the moment.
“I’m so damn sorry.” His whisper rumbles against my hair, thick with something unspoken, heavy.
I squeeze him tighter. Fighting fate feels impossible.
“The fairy tale had to end sometime.”
His hold tightens. "Our fairy tale is everlasting. We’ll get through this. I told you I will keep you hidden, and that’s exactly what I will do.”
I have to believe him. I have no other option. The last bus left Whispers an hour ago. By morning, the media will be at our doorstep.
As he’s pressing a kiss to my head, Sutton’s phone rings.
He stiffens.
“Fuck. It’s Bobby.” His gaze flicks to me, then to Sawyer, before he answers it on speakerphone.
“Bobby.” His greeting is blank.
“So… how’s Whispers, Sutton?”
I inhale sharply, and Sutton’s jaw tics.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grabbing his own phone from his pocket, Sawyer starts texting madly. Panic coils in my chest, twisting tighter and tighter.
“Paps got a tip-off that you’re playing happy family in Whispers.” Bobby’s tone is smug. “You and a woman. And a young boy. Rumors are swirling that you have a secret kid.”
My chest locks up as my eyes fly to Preston. This is too much for him, too adult, too unfair. But I don’t hide it from him. I reach for his hand, holding it gently. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t fallen for a man I never should’ve known.
“Fuck.” Sutton scrubs his hand over his face.
“Media are already on the way. I’m jumping in a jet now. I should be there in three or four hours. About time you come out of hiding anyway. Although if the kid is fucking yours, we have a problem.” Bobby laughs, like this is some game he’s about to win.
“What kind of problem?” Sutton glances at Preston, nothing but love and protectiveness in his gaze.
“You’re the king of women in LA. They love you because they think you’re available. A secret wife and kid tucked away in some backwards town? It’s bad for business.”
Sutton’s nostrils flare, his voice taking on a dark edge. “Is my life a fucking joke to you, Bobby?”
“Shit. He’s your love child, isn’t he?” He snickers, amusement dripping from every syllable. "The media are going to have a field day.”
The way he says it, like Sutton’s life is nothing but a brand to be managed, I hate him for it.
And before Sutton can reply, he’s saying, “My wheels are up. See you soon.”
The line cuts dead. Sutton slams his phone down, running his hands through his hair, muttering curses. I move my gaze to Preston, who’s looking solemn.
“We’ll be alright,” I try to reassure him, and he nods, but I can see that he’s scared.
“If we get found, Maribel will…” he trails off.
“I know.” I know what’s on the line here. Sutton’s appearance might make headline news, but our lives will be ruined forever.
“I need you to trust me, little man.” Sutton walks over and puts his hand on Preston’s shoulder, pulling him tight. When Preston crashes into his chest and holds him like he’s his lifeline, I almost sob. My emotions are a wreck today.
Sawyer steps in, always solutions-first, steady as hell. “Tanner’s jet is fueling. The pilot is waiting for you. Where do you need to go?”
Sutton exhales, his fingers flexing. "France."
I blink, my eyes snapping to his. “France?”
“I have friends.” He watches me, seeing my panic. “They’ll keep us safe.”
“But I—” My heart pounds faster. “I don’t have our passports.”
“It’ll be fine.”
I frown. Fine?
“There’s nowhere you can go without being spotted,” Sawyer warns.
Annabelle squeezes my hand over the counter, her gaze soft but unwavering, trying to anchor me, woman to woman.
“There’s one place…” Sutton mutters.
Sawyer goes pale.
“That’s a really bad idea.” His voice drops, controlled but deadly serious. “And as your legal representative, I don’t want to know anything about it.”
Sutton doesn’t seem affected. “I need to get Charlotte and Preston away. We just need a bit more time to sort things out.”
“Charlotte and Preston?” Sawyer's expression tightens, looking at me as realization clicks into place of our real names.
“I’ll fill you in later. Right now, we need to go,” Sutton says, and I offer Sawyer an empathetic smile.
“I still don’t think France is a good idea,” Sawyer mutters with a shake of his head.
“If the mob can’t keep us hidden… then we have no hope,” Sutton tells his brother. Unshaken. Decided.
The air thickens as my stomach falls to my feet.
Did he just say the mob?