8. Char #2
Deac lifted his head. He looked at me for a moment, reading whatever was on my face the way he read everything, cataloguing it. Then he lowered his mouth to my throat.
“Eyes on me,” he said against my skin.
I tried. But Dallas was right there at the edge of my vision, watching, and the knowledge of it did something to me that I couldn’t have prepared for.
Every touch felt different with him in the room.
Sharper. More deliberate. Like my body couldn’t decide where to put its attention and so it chose everywhere at once.
Deac pulled back and looked at me. Really looked. He saw it on my face — whatever it was doing — and something flickered behind his eyes that I couldn’t fully name. Not anger. Not possessiveness exactly, though that was somewhere in it.
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
My mouth had gone dry. “I don’t — I can’t —”
“Yes you can.”
I looked at Dallas again. He hadn’t moved. His arms were still crossed, jaw loose, watching me with the same calm patience he used for everything. Like he had all the time in the world and whatever I decided was fine and he wasn’t going anywhere either way.
“I want this,” I said. My voice came out barely above a whisper. “What’s happening right now. I want — I don’t want him to leave.”
Deac studied me for one more second.
Then he pressed his lips to my temple.
“Good,” was all he said.
And when he moved back over me, and his hands found my hips again, Dallas was still there in the doorway.
Watching. Quiet. Present. And that was enough — more than enough — to come apart all over again, harder than before, with my face turned toward the open door and my whole body burning with something that felt a lot like the beginning of something I couldn’t take back.
I didn’t want to take it back.
Deac pressed his lips to my temple a second time after. Held them there longer.
“Stop blaming yourself,” he said. Low. Firm. Final.
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, the doorway was empty.
But the door was still open.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Every door they opened for me was another way for that woman to get inside.
A memory held me hostage as I closed my eyes.
The picture from the newspaper…
I thought about that picture. How young the sheriff looked. How much Deac looked like his father. How everyone was all smiles in that little black and white, with Axel and Sheriff Nielson shaking hands. They had an agreement. A longstanding agreement.
Maybe he could use that agreement now?
“Ow, shit.”
A piercing pain ricocheted up the back of my leg as a sharp pressure stabbed into the bottom of my foot.
I perched on the edge of my bed, picking my foot up and wiping at the shards of plastic stuck to my skin.
The cell phone. Fucking hell, I didn’t even clean up the shattered phone yet.
I busied myself with picking up the pieces.
With running my hand over the plush carpet in an attempt to distract my swirling mind with all of the blame it had to place on my shoulders.
However, when I picked up the main piece of the phone and watched it light up, my jaw hit the floor.
“It still works?” I asked.
I punched in a few numbers and watched them reiterate themselves on the screen. It was cracked to high hell and I had to hold the battery in with my fingers, but it worked. And as I stared at the three numbers I punched into the phone, a plan formulated in my mind.
“Please forgive me, guys,” I whispered as I pressed the little green button.
The phone didn’t even ring once before a kind woman picked up.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“Yes, hello,” I said as I lowered my voice, “my name is Charlotte Lancaster, and I need to speak with Sheriff Nielson immediately.”
“Ma’am, what is your emergency?”
I climbed off the floor and perched back on the edge of the mattress. “Please, I don’t know how to get in contact with him, and I need to speak with him. It’s urgent.”
“Ma’am, this number is for emergencies?—”
“This is an emergency,” I snarled into the phone.
The woman paused before a nonchalant ‘hold, please’ was spat out.
I heard clicking sounds abound before some heavy breathing sounded in my ear.
I furrowed my brow as people talked in the background.
I waited patiently, keeping one ear out for the guys while I waited for the sheriff to reveal himself.
I’d never been so relieved to hear a man’s voice before.
“This is Sheriff Nielson,” he said.
I took a few seconds to gather the strength in my voice. “I know you know about the undercover woman in town.”
I grew nervous when no one responded, but they didn’t hang up. I took that as my cue to continue.
“I know she’s looking for me,” I said as I stood to my feet, “and I know she’s trying to keep me safe. So have her come pick me up at the guys’ clubhouse. I know you know where that is.”
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Are you sure?”
I closed my eyes. “My only condition is that she leaves the guys alone. If she wants me away from them, that’s fine, she can come get me. Then all of this can be put behind us.”
“You know it’s not that easy, Miss Char.”
I resisted the urge to cuss her out. “Hello, Miss Mouthbreather.”
She dismissed my nickname. “It’s not as easy as you’re making it to be.”
I shrugged. “Then take me somewhere. Wherever you think I’ll flourish. But if this is really about me? Then you’ll leave right after you’ve gotten me safe. Yes?”
And when she didn’t answer, I knew I set my first trap.
“Because this isn’t just about me, right?” I asked.
“The sheriff and I are coming,” the woman said as she shuffled around. “If you’re not there by the time we get there, they all go down.”
“Wait a second,” the sheriff said when he interjected, “that isn’t what?—”
“Do you hear me?” the woman asked. “Because my entire undercover operation could be compromised with a stunt like this.”
“Then why are you even considering it?”
“Because every child deserves to feel safe.”
I grimaced at her words, but I did a good job of keeping my voice even.
“I know you put a lot of work into making sure that I was safe after everything happened, and things didn’t pan out according to plan.
I get that you want to see things pan out for your own eyes.
So come see me with your own eyes. Pick me up, take me wherever you feel is safe, and then move on with your operation. ”
“Miss Char, I?—”
“We both deserve that, you and I.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Deal.”
The call went dead, and I dropped the phone to the floor.
It didn’t matter any longer, whether it was disposed of or not.
Not with what I was about to do. With every deep breath that I took, I wondered about how angry Deac would be with me.
With every step I took toward the bedroom door, I wondered how much Dallas would curse my very existence.
With every step out into the hallway, I wondered if Gauge would simply hate me.
And I figured even if they did, it was worth it.
It was worth it to save them. To make sure no more harm came to them and their family.
Maybe in another lifetime, the guys would forgive me for what I was about to do.
Because at that point, removing myself as a distraction seemed to be the only logical way to step next.
“You’re just an excuse. You know she won’t let go that easily,” I whispered as I continued down the hallway.
So long as I was in play, I’d be nothing but a scapegoat for that woman.
A thing to blame for all of her actions.
And if she was going to keep fucking up, then it was on her head.
Not mine. I heard the sirens off in the distance and drew in a deep breath.
I stood at the top of the steps, my hand white knuckling the railing as I held my head high.
Heavy boots knocked against the floor as the guys rushed toward the front door.
They scrambled, pulling out guns and checking their magazines.
Stuffing bullets into their jacket pockets, completely unaware that my presence parted them like the Red Sea.
I watched Dallas snake his arm around Gauge and wiggle a gun in his face to get his attention, and I breezed past them.
I scooped that gun right out of his hand, tossed it to Deac, and told them all to keep still and let me do the talking.
Then I ripped the front door open and winked over my shoulder before any of them could find the words to stop me.
I watched that good-for-nothing bitch climb out of the passenger’s seat of Sheriff Nielson’s cruiser.