Chapter Fifteen – Charlie
CHARLIE
After the call disconnects, Jace and I just sit there for a long moment, the TV muted but playing idly in the background.
Finally, I let out a breath and wipe my hands on my jeans, standing up and silently heading to the bedroom to grab my laptop.
When I return, Jace is still sitting in the same position he was when I left, and I clear my throat to get his attention. His eyes instantly snap to mine and I swallow at the emotion I see staring back at me before asking the question that has my nerves skyrocketing. “Are you ready for this?”
He shakes his head, pausing with his eyes closed before nodding. “Let’s do it.”
Sitting down beside him, I pull the laptop out of its bag and set it up on the coffee table. The screen lights up with the bootup screen and we sit and wait, my knee starting to bounce as the seconds tick by.
“Coffee?” I ask, despite having just finished a beer, when the wait becomes awkward.
Jace lets out a breath and immediately nods his head, standing up. “Please,” he breathes out, making his way to the kitchen with me hot on his heels.
Once we have our coffees made, we head back to the laptop, and I open the email Mia sent through with the link to the posts.
As the site loads, I feel my palms getting a little sweaty and my heart races. So much is riding on this. Jace’s fingers twine through mine and we share a look, take a deep breath and nod our heads before turning back to the screen.
“Mjane_23,” I read the username out loud, looking to Jace. “Where do you think she got that from?”
“No idea,” he whispers, nodding his head to the screen and with a trembling hand, I reach out and slide my finger over the track pad. Mouse hovering over the link to the first post, I click it, and the screen instantly changes, my mouth going dry as I read the title.
I have a Secret.
Standing up, I pace the loungeroom needing a break. I don’t know how long we’ve been reading; it hasn’t been easy. There’s been a few times where I’ve sat staring blankly at the screen, my eyes filled with tears and unable to read the words in front of me.
We’re on the third post and I’m more convinced than ever that this really is Bonnie.
My chest aches and my eyes flood once more with tears as she talks about how she believed we wouldn’t want her, she didn’t believe she deserved us anymore, so she didn’t even try to reach out.
Although, as I keep reading I find that isn’t entirely true. She says she sent us invitations to her wedding but…we never got them. If we had, there’s no way in hell would we have missed that wedding. We would have gotten straight in the car and not stopped until we were at her doorstep.
We would have brought her home with us. She never would have married that prick, never would have been forced to endure any of the pain she suffered at the hands of that man. Never…would have had her daughter. Fuck.
I run my hands through my hair. She had a girl. She has a daughter. We have a little girl out there somewhere waiting for us.
I don’t care what I have to do, what it takes…there’s no way in hell I can finish reading these posts and not bring them home.
“Do…do you think he tampered with them. The invitations I mean, like wrote the wrong address on them or threw them in the bin or something without her knowing?”
“With what we know about this guy? Yeah, I’d pretty much guarantee that’s what he did,” I muse. He wouldn’t have risked losing her and that’s exactly what would have happened if we had received those invitations.
She’s ours. She always has been. It’s been written in the stars we used to lie under since we were children. Only now, I know that also includes her daughter. I won’t give up until I have both of them in my arms and can see for myself they’re safe.
Stomach heaving, I rest my forehead against the cool metal of the toilet bowl. Retching forces my eyes open just in time to see Jace with his torso over the side of the bath, his stomach contents emptying inside the tub right as mine twists again.
Fuck.
If I thought reading about Bonnie believing we didn’t want her was bad, it’s nothing compared to reading how she went from being convinced we would find her and finding solace in the memory of us…to us becoming her tormentors.
When I read that, the bile in my stomach forced its way up my throat and I had no choice but to bolt to the bathroom, Jace quickly following behind me.
“I don’t think I can read anymore,” I cry out, my nose running and tears burning tracks down my cheeks. I spit out the excess saliva pooling in my mouth as my stomach heaves again.
“We have to,” Jace chokes out between retching, sounding as exhausted as I feel and I close my eyes, knowing he’s right.
Till Death Do Us Part.
It feels like my entire body is shaking as my hand hovers over the title of the next post. Reading about everything she’s endured, knowing we took part, even if it was only something her mind conjured, is really fucking with my head.
To say it’s been a slow-going process is an understatement; we’ve been at this for hours, each post taking forever for us to get through.
When it’s a stranger, someone you don’t know, its almost easy to read about this sort of shit…but when it’s someone you not only know, but love? It’s nearly impossible. It’s killing me reading about the life she’s had, all the while I was ignorantly going about mine.
I’ve never wanted to wish harm on someone before, but fuck I wish it on that piece of shit. I’ve never wanted to punch something as much as I do right now.
No one should ever have to experience the level of pain and violence that she’s describing.
Reading the awful things she’s had to endure; I can’t help but see the little girl who lived across the street. The innocent, always happy child who wasn’t afraid of anything. Who’s eyes always lit up whenever she saw me.
I can’t help but picture that little girl, alone in the dark, crying out – screaming for someone, anyone, to help her.
It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions. I’ve gone from wanting to punch something, to tears. To throwing my guts up, to wanting to punch something all over again. It’s an endless cycle that has caused my head to pound and my heart to ache in a way it never has before.
But still, we keep reading. If she can live through what happened to her, the least we can do is listen to her story.
“Holy shit,” Jace exclaims under his breath, his entire body freezing as he stares unblinkingly at the screen.
“What?” I ask, not looking away as I continue to read ahead, trying to find whatever he’s just read that has caused his outburst.
“Holy. Fucking. Shit.” He stands, ignoring my question as he starts pacing around the room, his mind making connections I can’t see.
“What?” I repeat, my eyes finding his and my voice getting sharper as my frustration builds. Suddenly, he stops, his eyes connecting with mine and laughs. Fucking laughs.
“I know where she is.”