8. Char
CHAR
The sound of birds chirping outside slowly pulled me out of my reverie as I basked in the glory of how pleasantly sore my body had become.
I flopped over, groaning as my muscles screamed at me for more rest. I tossed my arm over my eyes as a smile dripped across my face, and for once, I laid there and listened to the sound of birds chirping and frolicking about.
For a small moment, the smell of Gauge still permeating my bedroom made me forget about all of the drama swirling about.
“Five more minutes,” I murmured to myself.
I pulled my comforter up to my chin and turned onto my side.
I faceplanted right into a treasure trove of Gauge’s scent and found myself scooting closer to it.
It felt like he was still there. His warmth, still wrapped around me.
His body, still blanketing mine. I wanted him to come back and crawl into bed with me.
I wanted him to wrap me in those bulging, tattooed arms of his just so I could gaze into his hazel eyes all morning.
I wanted him close to me so that he could pepper my body with kisses again.
“Mmmm,” I groaned as I shivered from head to toe.
The memories alone kept me warm beneath that blanket as I laid there, allowing the birds to sing me back to sleep.
My mind filled with images of him towering over me.
His fingers, slatted with mine as he pinned them above my head.
His body, pounding into mine, desperate to mark his territory.
I giggled as I shifted onto my stomach and felt the crust against my thighs give way.
I needed a shower. I needed to clean up before I emerged for my day.
But eventually, my bladder overruled my plans for the day.
“All right, all right,” I murmured as I made my way into my bathroom, “let’s get this show on the road.”
With every second of my morning routine that passed by, reality came slowly back into focus. The agent. The guys. The sirens and the panicked look on Gauge’s face. I wondered if they found their guy yet. I wondered how the other one was recuperating.
I also wondered if there was anything that I could do to help.
So after cleaning myself up, I slipped into my signature jeans and a tank top.
There wasn’t a reason to dress up for work, in my mind, because it wasn’t like people were coming into the bar anyway.
I figured I’d be comfortable at the very least. I scooped up my things, tucked my cell phone into my bra, and shoved some random items I thought I might require into my purse.
That way, if I was whisked back to the clubhouse for any reason, I wouldn’t be caught so off-guard without my shit.
Little did I know that I’d come face to face with a stranger standing on my fucking porch.
“Um, hello,” I said as I paused in my doorway.
The man with tanned skin and dark features turned to face me. “Morning.”
His accent was thick, and I couldn’t place it. He must’ve caught my face, however, because he pointed to himself when he spoke.
“Panama, though I grew up in Colombia.”
I nodded as I looked at him, up and down, and I clocked the gun shining in the morning sun on his hip.
“Ah,” I said as my gaze slid back up to his face.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked.
I slipped outside and closed the door behind me. “Do I know you?”
He smiled, and it made him seem kind. “The guys placed me here.”
“Why?”
“Strictly precautionary.”
I jiggled the handle to make sure I had locked the doorknob. “Precautionary for what?”
He watched me shake the locked handle, and his refusal to answer didn’t go unnoticed.
“Well I need to go open the bar,” I said as I shoved my purse strap up my shoulder. “You need anything? Coffee? Food? A place to piss?”
“Bar’s closed until further notice,” was all he said.
I narrowed my eyes as I stood on the top step. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Bosses need some time.”
I tilted my head. “Time to do what?”
And again, when he didn’t answer, I simply scoffed and headed down the stairs.
Only to hear that man scurrying behind me.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I whipped around on the bottom step.
He paused a few steps shy of me. “I have strict orders not to let you out of my sight.”
“Or what?”
He grinned. “I don’t intend on finding out.”
I recalled last night when Gauge told me that I needed alibis for my evenings for the foreseeable future. But someone to keep an eye on me? I told him I was on their side with all of this. So why the hell did they still feel the need to watch me?
Unless I’m in trouble.
All of this felt way too much like the protective detail the police had on me for my father’s trial, and it gave me pause.
At least when I was younger, I knew what swirled around me.
There were a few cops involved that had mercy on me long enough to fill me in on the broad details, but these guys weren’t even giving me that.
Did they really just expect me to be okay with that?
“Anyway,” I said as I stepped off the steps, “time to open the bar.”
“It’s not going to work,” the man said behind me.
I shoved my hand into my purse and dug around for my keys. “Fine, fine, but I still need to get something out of the bar.”
“You won’t be able to open that door. Or any of the doors.”
I scoffed as I pulled my keys out. “I have one of the masters. I’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself.”
I didn’t like that fucker’s sarcastic attitude. But what I hated even more was him hovering over my shoulder while I tried desperately to open the door. I slid the key into the lock, I jiggled it until it turned, and then I shoved my shoulder into it.
Only to be met with an immobile surface.
“What the fuck?” I murmured.
“Miss Char,” the man said.
I peered over my shoulder. “Name?”
“Rico.”
“Rico,” I said as I depressed the handle and tried to shove the door open again, “get over here and help me.”
He shook his head. “It’s not going to work. They’re sealed from the inside.”
I shoved my shoulder into it one last time before standing back and kicking my foot against it. Frustration overwhelmed me as I kicked it again, and anger unlike anything I experienced since my childhood came crashing down upon me.
“I’m so sick and tired of this shit,” I grunted through gritted teeth. “Come on!”
And despite throwing my hips into one last kick, the door refused to open.
“God damn it!” I exclaimed.
“Like I said,” Rico responded as he slipped in between me and the door, “the bar’s closed until further notice.”
And my anger bubbled over as I got into that fucker’s face.
“You tell Deac, Gauge, and Dallas that I said they don’t come near me until they give me every single shred of information I require so that I know what the hell’s going on.”
His face fell. “Char, I can’t?—”
I shoved his chest, watching him bounce against the door. “You tell them that until all of my questions are answered to my standard, they are no longer allowed in my place of residence.”
“Char, they?—”
I pointed in his face. “And you let them know that until they come with those answers? I see them no differently than any other person I have to fight to get in my way. They want me working for them? Then they work for me, too. They can ante up and tell me the whole truth about what’s going on, or pack my shit up and leave. ”
His eyes widened. “They won’t like that.”
I hissed as I pressed my face so close to his that my breath touched his skin. “Then make sure they get the fucking picture.”
I stormed back upstairs, slamming the door behind me, and locked it for good measure.
And just so they knew what it was like, I dragged a chair from my unused kitchen table and shoved it beneath that doorknob.
No one was getting into my place without a fucking fight.
Or some goddamn motherfucking answers.