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Chapter Five
Charlotte
I’m rushing around like always, running late for class, when the doorbell ringing takes me by surprise. No one ever calls round here unannounced, so that’s one surprising thing, but the other thing to shock me is that there’s actually an electronic appliance in this flat that works. Huh, who knew, I muse. When the sharp sound shrills again I mutter under my breath “hold on, hold on, impatient asshole.”
As I unlock the door and throw it open I have a moment of panic - too late - that it might be bailiffs at the door. Shit! I vowed to myself that if it wasn’t them this time, I’d definitely be more careful about who I opened my door to from now on. We can’t afford to lose what little we have, just for the sake of a couple of missed payments on a bill or two...okay all of the bills, but I get paid in a few days and I’m sure I’ve made enough this month to cover everything and feed Phoenix. When faced with a choice between bills and feeding Phoenix? Phoenix will always come first.
“Raven?” One of the voices of my past, one that haunts my every waking moment, calls out the name that I no longer go by. I try to react, retreat inside, but as fast as lightning a hand shoots out and grabs the door before I can slam it closed. Damn, my reaction was a dead giveaway. I should have pretended they had the wrong person. But I panicked and it is too late now. A foot follows the hand, completely barring my way. I can’t get out of the flat and I can’t shut the person out.
I sag in defeat and let the door swing open. I’m shocked to find four pairs of feet on my doorstep. Gulping nervously, I slowly look up. The sight before me almost stops my heart and a small strangled sound escapes from my throat.
“Oh my god Raven, it is you!”
“We’ve been searching for you, forever.”
“Where have you been?”
“What happened?”
“Where did you go?”
“Why did you run?”
“Were you hurt in the fire?”
“How did you get out?”
The cacophony of their questions being fired at me like bullets makes my head spin, and I sway on my feet. I hold a hand up in defence, like I can stop their verbal attack of concern with my bare hands, and beg them to stop. Instantly they quiet.
“One question at a time please.” I insist.
“Can we come in?” Jax asks in a cool, cordial tone. For a split second I hesitate. Is there any way out of this?
I nod, because let’s face it, there’s no getting out of this. I step back and let them into my tiny two bedroomed flat. They file into the open living space and then stand awkwardly when they realise there’s nowhere for them to go.
“Can I get you guys a drink? I don’t have much I’m afraid, I need to go to the shops...” I trail off.
“No thank you. We just came here for answers.”
I turn to face them but don't speak. There’s nothing I can think of to say.
“Who are you? And no bullshit.” Jax fixes me with his firmest stare, one that would have had me wilting back in school. Who am I kidding? It has me trembling even now. Before I can answer him - as if I’d even know how to - he continues. “I’ve spent years trying to track you down - we all have - and Cordelia Deighton isn’t listed as having a granddaughter. Raven Deighton doesn’t exist. I could barely find reference to Cordelia’s one and only daughter. It’s like she died or vanished or something.”
My heart stops. Dread, ice-cold and bitter, fills me from top to toe. My stomach drops, churns, threatens to spill. I freeze, and that burning hot flight-or-fight tingle starts at the base of my neck. The urge to run is overwhelmingly strong, panic reaching its fingers around my throat and threatening to choke.
I swallow my fear down, sigh…It’s time to tell them the truth. But it won’t be the whole truth and nothing but the truth. There’s too much at stake for that.
“I am Cordelia Deighton’s granddaughter, but my name isn’t Raven Deighton.” I pause and glance at the four men in front of me. All at once they’re home and complete strangers to me. How is that possible? They’ve clearly come for answers and I owe them that. Their expressions range from pained, to completely closed-off.
I take a deep breath and continue, “You won’t find any trace of me, or my family, because Cordelia’s daughter, my mother, ran away from home at the age of fourteen. Cordelia didn’t approve of her boyfriend and so they ran away to be together.”
“At fourteen?” Rebel asks and I nod. “Fuck. That’s crazy.” He gives a low whistle.
“Why didn’t your mum go back when the relationship crashed and burned?” Thorn asks.
“Because it didn’t. Even to this day they’re still together. Just about,” I add, thinking about how my sister’s death has torn their love apart. “They lied about their age and ran away to Scotland because you can get married at sixteen there. They married and found jobs, and somehow made a life for themselves. At nineteen she found herself pregnant with twins, and it was only once my sister and I were born that she reached out to Cordelia.”
“Wait, you have a twin?”
