Chapter 78 – Jace
JACE
Carrying two mugs of piping hot coffee, I place them down in front of Charlie and Bonnie on the table, before going back into the kitchen to grab mine and Mitchell’s.
Instead of setting his down, I hold it out for him when I hear his footsteps on the staircase. He appears a second later, taking it while muttering a quick, “Thanks.”
We’re all quiet as we take our first mouthfuls of liquid caffeine, and I savour the taste as it hits my tongue.
Though, it doesn’t hold the same fixation as it once did.
It’s definitely not as good as tasting Bonnie’s pussy, or Charlie’s dick.
But it is a close enough second and warms me up from the inside as I swallow it down.
“She still asleep?” Charlie breaks the silence, and we all look at Mitchell.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Turned her alarm off so she’ll sleep for a couple more hours.”
“I’ll call the school and let them know she’s not coming in,” Bonnie adds around another mouthful, getting to her feet to grab the phone.
This weekend marks one month until the seven-year anniversary of Michael’s death.
The day she escaped and disappeared, becoming a missing person long before the police even knew she was still alive.
The day his parents planned their appeal to the Supreme Court to have both Bonnie and Charlotte legally declared dead.
Of course, that’s no longer possible. Bonnie’s no longer a missing person. She gave her real name to the hospital when we were admitted, and she’s given her statements and everything else needed to the police.
It also marks the deadline Bonnie gave Mitchell for the police to find the truth about how Johnathan found and then kidnapped us.
Something they failed to do.
As promised though, Mitchell hasn’t interfered, only observed.
Just like Bonnie planned, they’ve slowly grown comfortable as the police went about their investigation and none of it led to them.
They eventually chalked it up to Johnathan’s obsession with Bonnie, rather than someone all but selling her to him for their own gain.
They’ve stopped looking over their shoulders, no longer peeking through the front curtains at every car that drives passed, no longer keeping a low profile. They’re back to business as usual, believing that no one knows about their involvement.
After the real estate called three days ago, reminding Charlie our lease ends next week and we’ve yet to respond on whether we were renewing, we decided to take out two birds with one stone.
Bonnie and Mitchell are headed to rip the proverbial rug out from underneath those two arseholes, and while I wish I was going with them, that I could be there for her…I was grateful when she proposed Charlie and I take Charlotte and head to our old place.
After everything in that basement, even watching something gory in a movie had me ready to throw up. Seeing the blood on the screen, I could almost smell it, hear as Johnathan’s skull cracked, feel the gooey texture as my fingers sunk into his eyes…
I can only imagine what seeing it in person would do to me and I don’t think I could mentally take that on right now and come out of it okay. I would, if I had to, but I’m grateful I don’t.
So, while Bonnie gets the justice she needs in whatever form that takes, we will be packing up our old house and officially moving in here.
We will officially be living with Bonnie and soon we’ll be taking her name. That thought brings a smile to my face and pushes out the macabre images of the past.
“Ready?”
Turning into the driveway, I’ve just put the car in park when Charlotte unclips her seatbelt and pushes through the centre console to gawk at the house in front of us as if it was some expensive estate.
“This is where you guys used to live?”
“I’m pretty sure you know better than to take your belt off in a moving car,” I tell her instead of answering the obvious question.
“We’re not moving,” she says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“The car is still running.”
“Then turn it off?”
Sputtering, I look to Charlie for help only to find him with his tongue pushed into his cheek, his head turned so Charlotte can’t see his struggle not to smile or laugh. Some help.
Who’s bright idea was it to leave us alone with a child for an entire weekend? We’re off to such a great start at being role models.
Flashes of Bonnie sassing back at our parents when she was Charlotte’s age, finding loopholes and picking them apart has me huffing out through my nose, and I sigh. Fuck, she’s just like her mother.
“Yeah, bug,” I finally say, switching the ignition off. “This is where we used to live.”
“Cool.” She’s out of the car before I can process what’s happening, running across the front lawn to the door and I scramble to get out after her.
“Wait-”
Charlie’s arms wind around my waist and he chuckles in my ear. “Now look who’s being the mother hen,” he teases, and I glare at him.
“Come on! I wanna see inside!”
I’ve barely got the door unlocked before Charlotte is squeezing in front of me and pushing inside, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at everything she sees.
By the time we catch up with her, she’s in the hallway, her head tilted as she stares at one of Charlie’s baby pictures lining the wall. I smile when Charlie groans, enjoying the tables being turned right back on him.
Whenever Lucinda would visit, she would put them back up, always adding another one in retribution whenever she found them not on the wall until he finally gave in and left them there.
It’s been so long since he last took them down that we’ve both grown accustomed to them being there, almost forgetting about them entirely.
“Is that chocolate?” Charlotte asks, pointing her finger at one of Charlie in nothing but a nappy and covered in what is definitely not chocolate.
“Sure,” he forces out beside me, his cheeks burning red, and I can’t hold back my snort. His eyes flash with a half-hearted glare, and I shrug, not even trying to hide my amusement.
It’s not like there’s any embarrassing baby pictures of me he use against me as payback. But there are dozens, if not hundreds, of him. He had a tendency to run around the house sans clothes a lot, covered in ‘chocolate’, and his parents love taking photos of their kids.
“Good luck with that one,” I sing-song under my breath, quiet enough only he can hear and disappear back outside to grab the boxes out of the boot.
A horn blares just as I grab the last box and I turn around, spotting Charlie’s parents’ car turning onto our street with Ariana and the guys’ car right behind them.
The car hasn’t even stopped yet before Eric is out the door, jumping onto the grass and I frown, prepared to tell him off for doing something so dangerous where Charlotte can see and copy.
“Uncle Ric!” Charlotte squeals, running passed me and launching herself at Eric who happily scoops her up and spins her around.
“There’s my favourite niece!” He tosses her up into the air and she laughs as he easily catches her, walking straight into the house without so much as a word to me.
I throw my hands up in the air. “Hello to you too,” I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes while the others follow behind him.
I hang back, watching them all disappear through the door with a fond smile, taking in the house I’ve called home since Charlie found me.
When I came here, I was at my rock bottom, believing the worst of myself. I’ve cried, laughed and bled in this house. I’ve grown so much in this house and in a few hours, it’ll be empty as if we were never here.
Charlotte pokes her head out the door, a tiny frown marring her face when she sees me still standing at the end of the driveway. “You coming, or what?”
Shaking my head, I cast one more look at the front yard and smile at her, leaning down to pick the boxes back up. “Yeah, I am.”
Running my hands along the surface of the dresser in my old bedroom I can’t help but think of the last time I packed up all of my belongings. Back then, I carelessly shoved every item I owned into trash bags.
A stark contrast to the folded clothes neatly tucked into the open box on my bed labelled ‘Jace – Clothes.’ After this, my old room will be completely packed, just the kitchen, bathroom and what’s left of the room Charlie and I ended up sharing to go.
Finished with this room, I grab the taped-up boxes and take them to the loungeroom to put them with the others to make it easier for us to pack the car before we leave.
We’re not taking any of the furniture with us, instead we’re doing an open house of sorts. People will be able to come in and grab what they need for free. Anything not taken will be donated to good will. Then on Tuesday, Charlie has arranged for an end of lease clean through the house.
After that, Lucinda will be dropping the keys off to the real estate and that will be that. We will officially be moved out.
Turning, I head to the kitchen to start in there, but stop when I hear Charlotte giggling in the bathroom. Curious, I push the door the rest of the way open and look inside.
There’s an open box on the floor, half-filled with all our crap from the vanity, but she’s not paying any attention to either.
Of course she isn’t. Because why would I be that lucky?
“Oh my God.” My eyes when and jaw drops when I see what she’s playing with. “Fuck.”
Running into the bathroom, I almost trip over the box full of shit to get to the bathtub. Leaning over, I grab the long-forgotten dildo suctioned to the tiled wall and pull.
It doesn’t budge and I almost fall inside the tub, my other hand flying to the wall as I pull, twist and yank the fucking thing until it finally comes off, causing me to stumble back.
Charlotte laughs, clearly amused and I’m glad one of us is getting a kick out of this.
Spinning around, I throw the thing into the box with more force than is probably necessary.
I cringe, dreading the question I’m sure she’s about to ask, wishing for just a moment she didn’t have such a curious mind.
“What is it?” Yep, there it is.
I turn around to face her, stepping a little to the left when she tries to peer around me and kick the box further away so she can’t get another glimpse of the bright blue seven-inch silicone fucking dildo. Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to get it in bright blue again?
“I-Um…Well… That is an excellent question,” my voice trails off and I look around the room, scrambling to come up with a way to finish my answer.
Something believable and yet as far from the truth as possible.
“For your mother.” Who is going to kill me.
Or die of laughter and never let me live this embarrassment down. Honestly, it could go either way.
“Pizza’s almost here,” I change the subject not in the least bit subtle at all. “Why don’t you go see if you can find any plates in the kitchen?” Where there are no dildos.
“You don’t eat pizza with plates, silly.”
“Go. I’ll finish in here.”
“Okay.” She shrugs, running out the door without a second glance at the box, and I hurry up and grab the last items left in the bathroom, tossing them in and taping the box shut with so much tape, I’m not sure we’ll be able to get it open without a knife later.