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My stomach clenched. The last thing Brett should do was come to the hospital and show his face here. Anywhere the police were, he should steer clear of for now. “I don’t have my phone.”
Pulling out her phone, my mom handed me hers. “Here. Use mine.”
“I… don’t remember his number.” That admission, while true, got my mom to drop the subject of calling Brett. “Besides, I’m fine. I don’t want to stay here overnight.” The doctor had told me that he wanted to keep an eye on me until morning, but he couldn’t force me to stay if I wanted to go. My injury wasn’t life-threatening.
“We can figure out a way to contact Ian once we get home, then,” my mom said, giving me a smile. I could tell just by the way she was looking at me that she loved me.
And of course she did. Both my parents loved me. They didn’t know about Uncle Dave, and therefore they had no idea how broken I was. Even the best, nicest people in this world could be taken for fools—and when someone was related to you, you tended to think the best of them.
I didn’t hate my parents for being so blind. Maybe, once I got older, I should’ve told them the whole truth. Maybe they would’ve believed me, and everything would be different now.
It was too late for would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. I’d never tell my parents the truth about my childhood. Some things they were better off not knowing; Uncle Dave being an abuser and a rapist one of them.
And Ian being Brett Banks was another. Speaking of which, I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight – Brett
I heard a knock on my door Sunday morning, and I rushed to answer it. I hadn’t slept a wink since the confrontation with Tyler. Not being able to be there with Charlie while she was dealing with the fallout… I hated it. I hated not standing by her side through it all.
I wished things were different, but right now, that was out of my control.
So, I’d gone home and waited. I had Charlie’s phone sitting in my room, on my mattress on the floor. Better me than the police.
Hand curling around the door handle, I flung the door open and saw a small girl standing on my old, dingy welcome mat I’d trash-picked from the neighbors down the street. Her car was parked in the driveway; she must’ve picked it up with her parents’ help.
A gentle breeze blew past her, rustling her brown hair. Heavy bags rested under her dark brown eyes, like she hadn’t slept a wink, either. She wore shorts, flip flops, and a tank top—it wasn’t grandma sweater weather.
I… was sort of looking forward to the colder weather, when Charlie bundled herself up in oversized sweaters. She looked ridiculous. I loved making fun of her for it.
I loved her in general, too.
Sweeping her up in my arms, I picked her up like she weighed nothing and spun her around, kicking the door closed with my foot. I buried my face against her neck, breathing her in as I murmured, “Charlie.” Her name was like a prayer on my tongue—and this was coming from a man who never prayed.
It was only when I set her down that I asked, “How are you feeling?” I couldn’t forget my little Charlie had killed Tyler. My girl might not be a serial killer like me, but when push came to shove, she could get blood on her hands.
“The back of my head is still a little tender,” she spoke, lifting a hand to the back of her head and touching it. She winced. “But I’m okay. My parents went to the hospital to visit Claire, but I wanted to swing by here first.” She said nothing else after that, staring up at me with wide, chocolatey eyes.
And I stared right back. I couldn’t look away, in fact. I didn’t want to.
This girl… fuck, she drove me nuts. She pulled at my heart, made me want things I’d never wanted in my life. She took everything I thought I knew about myself and turned it all upside-down. Havoc in a tiny human body.
“So,” she broke the silence between us.
“So,” I echoed, wondering if we had time. I wouldn’t mind throwing her over my shoulders, carrying her to my bed, and worshiping that tiny body for hours. But she’d mentioned going to visit her sister at the hospital, and I knew I shouldn’t distract her too much.
“It looks like my stalker is officially gone,” she said.
All I could do was nod and say, “Looks like it.”
“I guess that means I don’t need you anymore.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, agreeing, “I guess not.” Both of us were deadpanning, both waiting for the other to crack first.
Unsurprisingly, Charlie was the one who started to smile first, unable to keep the ruse going. She stepped closer to me and leaned her cheek against my lower chest. Her frail, thin arms wrapped around my torso as she hugged herself against me. “Like I’d ever let you go.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing tight. “Good, because I ain’t leaving you, Charlie. You’re stuck with me now. Hope you like the name Smith, because that’s going to be your last name once I put a ring on your finger.”
That got her to pull away from me—or try to. My arm was locked around her shoulders so tightly she could only angle her head back and stare up at me with a confused expression… probably because we’d never discussed anything like that before.
