Chapter 45 Charlotte
Charlotte
Sutton walks out with his brother, slides into the truck, and drives out of the gates. I’m equal parts happy for him and sad that it isn’t something that I get to experience at his side.
Looking every inch the billionaire he is, his suit fitted to perfection, his broad shoulders and strong physique one girls swoon over—including me—he’ll be the talk of not only the town but the country.
This new release of Whiteman’s Whiskey, along with the global release of the new commercial, will have the media buzzing.
No doubt, he’ll be there all night, fielding questions and smiling for photographers.
That’s what it’s all about. And he needs to play his part.
Showcase the whiskey for Tanner and Connor.
It’s exciting, nerve-racking, and entirely new.
“Can we make popcorn?” Preston asks, the two of us now alone, aside from the security guys who walk around outside.
“Sure. Let me get it. You watch the screen and yell the minute you see the commercial,” I tell him, not wanting to miss it. Having already seen snippets from filming day, I know it’s going to be amazing.
This new home is incredible, and it’s nice to be back in a fully functional kitchen again. I might even have Preston make us his famous Croque Monsieur tomorrow; I know Sutton will love it.
Grabbing a bag of popcorn, I throw it in the microwave before I move to the sink and fill up a glass of water. The popping begins immediately, and the kitchen fills with the scent of buttery goodness that can only be achieved by popcorn the minute I open the bag.
“Did I miss anything?” I sit next to Preston on the sofa, the two of us getting comfortable. He immediately dives his hand into the bowl.
“Nothing yet.”
The beautiful French doors on the side of the room open, dragging my attention.
It’s Jackson, Sutton’s head of security.
Having just met him, I don't know him well. But he always seems grumpy and extremely serious. These security guys are generally all the same. They’re working, not relaxing; they have a job to do, and they stay focused.
“Everything alright?” I ask as his eyes roam around the room.
“Everything’s fine. Just doing my checks.”
I relax as Jackson walks around, ensuring locks are still in place and radioing his team before he leaves again to circle the perimeter.
“He looks so mean…” Preston says, and we giggle, both munching on the popcorn.
I look at my watch, knowing Sutton would’ve arrived by now and will probably already be working the room.
They have lots of media there tonight, plus all the big spenders and key contacts from the city Tanner flew in.
It’s probably something my dad would ordinarily go to, but I can’t imagine him traveling all the way to Whispers for just one night.
I hear a thud outside, and my eyes flick to the French doors.
“Did you hear that?” Preston sits up, his gaze looking in the same direction as mine.
“Yeah… stay here.” I jump up and walk tentatively to the glass doors. The night has settled in, and the lights that are usually on in the garden have gone out. “Hmm, lights are out,” I tell Preston, and he doesn’t say anything.
I turn to look at him and my heart stalls as I see a familiar woman restraining my brother, her hand over his mouth.
My stomach falls to my feet, voice lodging in my throat as someone comes at me from behind.
“No!” I shout as I start to kick and thrash, their hold only tightening with every movement. “What are you doing? Who are you?” I demand as the old guy I recognize from the diner pins my arms behind me.
“Maribel said she’d be a tough one,” the woman says, and my blood runs cold. I still, and Preston’s eyes widen even more, both of us knowing just how bad this situation is. My shock gives my attacker enough time to secure me and push us out the French doors.
“Help! Help! Jack—” I start to yell, hoping Jackson will hear me, before the old man’s hand slaps across my mouth and I continue to twist and thrash with all my might.
“For God’s sake.” For an older guy, he’s pretty strong, but I’m almost out of his arms when I feel a sharp pain in my arm.
Immediately, my body feels off, like I’m falling into a haze. “Ahhh… What…”
“A sedative. Should shut you up for a while,” he says as my feet grow heavier.
Then I see Jackson. Hit from behind, his head bleeding, out cold.
Preston starts wailing, his mouth then quickly wrapped in cloth, his screams muffled, just as I hear a familiar tune come from the TV inside.
I look back quickly, seeing Sutton’s face lighting up the screen through the open door behind us. Although, I’m starting to see double.
Looking at Preston, I murmur, “Yellow brick road.” He looks at me, his eyes big and round and scared. But we need to at least try to get out of this. Preston nods as he kicks the woman in the shins, and I do the same to the man. It’s enough to have their grip slip.
“Run!” Preston turns and runs as I throw an outdoor cushion at the man before I pull the entire outdoor chair out in front of them both. As expected, he runs toward me, swatting the cushion away, but not before he trips and falls, having not seen the chair.
“Fuck!” I hear the woman yell from behind us, Preston and I sprinting.
We dash across the back lawn, straight to our path.
I pant, really wishing I did more cardio as my oxygen demand outpaces my supply.
My eyesight’s fading in and out, my legs weak, but I’m pushing as hard as I can.
The cool air feels nice across my hot skin and I see Preston remove his gag, then I stumble.
“Come on, Charlotte. Please, stay with me,” Preston pants as he glances behind him, seeing me struggling.
He grabs my arm and pulls me with him, trying to keep us both moving at speed.
I can hear footsteps fast approaching, but as we hit the path, the trees offer some coverage to hopefully keep us out of their sight—at least for long enough to do what we need to.
And thankfully, Preston and I know the way like the back of our hands.
It’s dark, and I trip a little, my vision blurry, but Preston is laser focused. We make it halfway, the little bee box just to my left.
“Sutton.” My voice is sluggish as I stop and open the box, pulling out the phone. “Keep going,” I tell Preston as I hold the phone like it’s my lifeline and dash down the path again.
We make it to the cottage and lock ourselves inside. Grabbing the phone only took a few seconds, but it’s enough to have them banging on the door almost immediately. With my heart racing and breaths panting, I lift the phone with shaky hands and hit the button to call Sutton.
We both jolt as a loud thump breaks out across our flimsy door.
“Charlotte…” Preston warns, visibly trembling and stepping back from the door.
“We need a weapon,” I say, but my voice comes out slurred, as the bang on the door comes again. I have no doubt this old timber door will splinter in a matter of seconds, and I can barely stand or keep my eyes open. I need someone here to save Preston. I can’t let anything happen to him.
The phone rings in my hand as I pray Sutton answers.
“Tinker?” He picks up on the second ring, concern in his voice.
“Sutton… Maribel—” is all I get out before I hear the front door of the cottage crack open, and I drop the phone. Running to the kitchen, I stumble, legs wobbling beneath me. I open the drawers so violently, they fall from the cabinetry, smashing all over the floor.
Preston and I look over everything, seeing my bee clip shatter more than it already was, and I bend down to grab the large knife from the silverware drawer.
“Preston, get behind me.”
He jumps behind me as the couple I served at the diner steps through the door.
“You both need to come with us,” the man says, looking angry as he strides in, and Preston backs away, but I stand ready. I’ve never used a knife like this before. I have no idea if I’m even holding it properly, but I’ll do what I have to.
“Who are you and what do you want?” I yell, trying to focus on them, my vision failing me and my voice wonkier by the minute.
“We’re here for Maribel. She knew you were here, tracked the call you made to your father. Tut, tut, tut… silly mistake that was,” the old guy says as the woman circles around to the side, making me look in two directions and not helping my dizziness.
“All you had to do was stay gone… but lucky for us, she’s paying a good sum of money to grab you and ensure you never come back to life again,” the woman taunts. I can’t believe I thought these people were nice.
I murmur something incomprehensible as the man lunges at me, and Preston throws a chair at him. But he’s a big guy. Far outsizing my short five-foot frame, and the chair breaks, shattered against his side.
Again, he lunges at me, grabbing my hair as Preston scurries around, probably looking for something else to defend us.
The sting on my scalp burns, and I fling out my arms, still holding the knife, feeling it slice somewhere.
The man yells, throwing me to the side, sending me sliding across the floor, seeing bright red now coating his white shirt.
When I look up at his face, his scowl turns deadly.
Preston tries to help me, the brave boy he is.
I should’ve known my little brother wouldn’t leave my side.
He runs and pushes the woman away, but she doesn’t move.
Not even an inch. And I know then it’s useless.
Because she grabs Preston, pulls him to her body, and presses a gun to my little brother's head.
And I can do nothing to stop it. Not as my body gives up on me, the drugs pulling me into darkness.
My time is up.