by Emelia Blair
“It’s important because you’re telling me that you leaving me weren’t because of what I did,” he growls. “I’ve spent years feeling guilty over this.”
All he did was teach me not to trust anybody.
“Where did you go, Charlotte?” He asks me again.
I don’t answer for a few moments.
How can I tell him that I lived on the streets, hiding out at the homeless shelters for half a year, too scared to drag Agatha or her family into my situation?
“To a friend’s place.” My words are vague, and he can tell.
“So, you’re going to lie to me now?” His voice is cold, and I try not to let it bother me. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of me. I can’t afford to let it matter to me.
“You don’t have to believe me. Your sister wasn’t the only friend I had.”
“So, you let me and Agatha worry about you for an entire year, until you decided to let her come back into your life?”
I want to cry at those words, and laugh at the absurdity of them. But I can’t shed more suspicion on myself, because Philip has the means to get me investigated, and if he ever finds out what I did, Agatha might turn away from me as well, and his sister is a lifeline to me.
“It was family stuff, Philip. Let it go.”
The sound of a buzzer cuts him off and Philip glowers at me before going to let in who I assume is the police.
I hear the murmur of conversation before the footsteps towards the kitchen.
Philip enters, followed by two men, one of whom I recognize.
He recognizes me too, I can tell from the look in his eyes, and the blood drains from my face when he sneers at me.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Charlotte. Still causing trouble, I see.”
“Hello, John.” I hate that my voice sounds weak even to my ears.
“You two know each other?” Philip glances between us, his brow knitted. I swallow.
“John’s an old acquaintance.”
“You could say that, sugar. Last time I saw you, you were in a hospital bed with tubes stuck to every inch of you. I always wondered where you disappeared to.” From the corner of my eyes, I see Philip jolt at his description. John steps forward, and I stiffen. “So, you landed on your feet.” His menacing tone doesn’t escape me, or Philip, who steps in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest.
“This isn’t a reunion, Detective. Although I do have questions about how you know my wife.”
“Your wife?” The disbelief in John’s voice doesn’t strike me. However, the next part of his statement does, “Your wife was involved in a murder investigation ten years ago, Mr. McCoy.”
And just like that, I feel my fate being sealed.
9
Philip
Murder investigation? Charlotte?
I force my questions to wait.
“And your point is…?” I ask coldly. “You think you can come into my home and then try to intimidate my wife?” The newly-made detective looks startled at my tone, and his partner looks horrified.
“I’m sure the detective is mistaken. He wasn’t trying to—”
“Shut up, Clarence,” John growls at him, and then he snaps his gaze to me. “Your wife’s stepfather went missing ten years ago. She didn’t report him, and then when someone did, she evaded our questions.”
I hear the small outraged cry from behind me, and I step aside to let Charlotte have her say. It seems my wife is quite the spitfire when provokes.
“I was in a goddamn hospital bed! I couldn’t evade you even with a spoon!”
Her face is scrunched in anger, and the man she is raising her voice at, gives her a vicious look.
“You escaped from the hospital and then disappeared.”
Charlotte glances at me and then shuts her mouth. I see that she was trying to figure out a way to say something that will still keep her past in the dark. She doesn’t have a chance in hell of doing that.
She told me that I wasn’t her reason for leaving ten years ago. So, this other story that is coming out is forced her to go into hiding. I am going to find out what happened, one way or another.
I step next to her and look at the detective, who is starting to show his anger.
“If you have questions for my wife, I’ll have my lawyer arrange for it. Meanwhile, you have another job to do here.” John grits his teeth.
“I need to take her in for questioning. Her case is still open.”
When Charlotte stiffens, I put my hand on her shoulder.
“Sure. Get a warrant for that. But then you can also explain to the Chief of Police why you took in his godson’s wife in for questioning over a matter that is ten years old.”
The man bristles.
His partner, an older man that I recognize, apparently sensing that situation is getting out of control, takes over.
“Mrs. McCoy, why don’t you begin by telling us what happened in your bakery?”
“Detective Clarence, if you can’t keep your partner under control, I’ll just ask your lieutenant to handle this investigation. I was under the impression that your department housed competent individuals.”
Whatever this man’s deal is with Charlotte, it is far more than a case bungled up. I get a dangerous vibe from him, and my instincts scream at me to get Charlotte away from him.
The other detective glares at John.
“I think I can handle this one alone. Why don’t you go back to the precinct, John?”
The entire matter is sorted out within minutes, with John being forced to leave and Clarence handling the interview process. Charlotte looks much more relaxed but as I sit next to her, one hand on her leg, I am startled when she clasps it as the questions proceeded.
A glance at her face tells me she isn’t aware of it and it gives me hope.
“Is there anyone you know who would like to hurt you? Competitors? Gang members of that area?”
Gang members?
“What?” I break in. “What do you mean by gang members?”
Clarence blinks.
“Well, the bakery is located in Dark Silver territory. I thought you knew that. It’s a notorious gang that’s claimed that area.”
Charlotte shakes her head.
“They don’t bother with me. A few of them come in to make purchases and since they were on good terms with the previous owner, they leave me alone. Besides, attacking me in the middle of the night isn’t their style. They would much rather shoot me in public.”
My blood runs cold at how casually she describes all this, and it makes me realize that I took her words of her being different now, too lightly.
Murder investigations. Escaping the police. Gang members.
Charlotte’s life had changed so much. Not that it does anything to alter my decision.
No, I am more determined than ever to win her over.
The rest of the conversation is wrapped up quickly and I show Clarence out.
When I return, Charlotte is watching me warily.
I don’t say anything, just pick up her empty plate and put it in the dishwasher, before turning around.
“Come on. You need to lie down. Agatha will be here in an hour and she’ll chew me out if she finds you out of bed.”
Charlotte’s eyes widen and she follows me obediently, climbing into bed and not even protesting against me tucking her in.
“You’re not going to ask?” The words seem to be torn out of her, and I hesitate.
“I want to. And I will,” I tell her as I sit next to her. “I know you didn’t kill anybody. And I know that that detective scares you. I’m going to make sure he never comes near you again.”
When I stroke her hair away from her face, I can’t bear the look of confusion on her face at being cared for, so I lean down to press my lips against her forehead.
Turning around, I am about to leave, when I feel my shirt tug, and then she says, “When I came back from that party, after seeing you, I went home. Nick was there. With some men.”
I have a bad feeling about this story, and I turn around but say nothing. She continues, not meeting my eyes, her right hand fisted on her lap.
“Nick had gambling debts. Lots of them. So, when he couldn’t meet them, he had made a deal with some of the loan sharks that instead of paying them money.” Charlotte’s face looks gray right now, and I want to stop her from saying the rest of the words, but I am unable to. “He sold me to them.”
I freeze, my mind not working. In my mind, all I see is one slip of a girl, barely into adulthood, in a room alone with grown men. I keep silent. She is still talking.
“I ran away. But I didn’t know where to go. I had no one. I couldn’t drag Agatha into it, and the situation with you – I couldn’t ask for your help, so I just ran.”
She swallows.
“I had some money from waitressing, and I slept in shelters for the most part, trying to earn some more money by doing odd jobs, enough that I could leave town. Six months after I managed to get some money together, I hid in a motel for a few more days getting my travel plans together, but Nick found me. He beat me up, worse than usual. His creditors had been angry at him. He was so angry that day.”
Charlotte’s body shakes violently at the memory, and I sit down and gather her in my arms, letting her finish, my own rage on a tight leash.
“I was bleeding from everywhere,” she says faintly. “I remember thinking that I it wasn’t possible for the red rug in that room to get bloodier than that. But it did.”
A shuddering breath that makes my gut burn.
“He left after two days. I knew he was going to get them, but I couldn’t – I would rather have killed myself than be whored out.”
Tears choke her voice and I feel like a monster for bringing up a memory that she clearly spent years burying.
“That’s enough, Charlotte,” I beg her. “You don’t have to tell me.” She shakes her head.
“No. No, you don’t know John. He’ll twist up what actually happened, and I can’t bear for you to think that I killed somebody. Because I didn’t – I did something else.”
I let her breathe, let her grab whatever composure she is able to.
“There was a phone in the room. I knew that Nick had been stealing from the gang, Dark Silver for years. He knew one of their crew members, and he was stealing some of their shipments, a precise amount every month. I don’t know what it was. I just knew about the theft. We used to live in that area for a while and that’s how I found out.”
Her eyes are fixed on her hands.
“I called up one of the shops that I knew belonged to one of their top management, or members, whatever. A woman answered and she listened to me. I told her about Nick stealing from them and gave her names and numbers of when and where he picked them up from. Everything I knew, I told her. She asked me who I was, but I couldn’t tell her. She asked me if I was in trouble, and I told her yes. I think I passed out after that.
“Nobody came for me. At some point, I managed to get myself to a hospital. I was there for a month. That’s where I met Vera. She’s the original owner of the bakery I run. She was also the woman on the phone. She told me that they tracked me down after a lot of work. She introduced me to Miguel, the leader of the gang. He told me they owed me a debt and I could call on them for anything.”
She is silent for a while, and I can tell she is trying to find the words to continue.
“I never knew what happened to Nick. But while I was still in the hospital, a day after Vera showed up, John showed up. I told him part of the truth, up till where Nick left me in the motel room. But John didn’t believe me. Even when the doctors vouched for me, saying that I wasn’t in any condition to lift a pen, murdering a grown man was far too impossible, John didn’t believe them. He wanted me to come down to the station. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask for Doctor Thomas at Redmond Hospital. He still works there, and so do some of the nurses. They stopped John from forcibly taking me with him. When Vera found out, she whisked me out of there.”
My heart breaks for her. It seems life threw one curveball after another at Charlotte.
Anger and self-loathing are also prominent in my mind. If I hadn’t done what I had, she might have turned to me for help. While I had been busy sulking, she had been trying to survive, alone.
“Was Vera—?” Charlotte shakes her head.
“She was related to Miguel in some way, but she wasn’t directly involved with the gang. But that’s the reason I feel safe in the neighborhood. Since the bakery belonged to Vera, and the gang promised me a safe haven, nobody messes with the shop or me.”
I am quiet, and then I ask, “Did you think that me knowing any of this would change my feelings for you?”
Charlotte’s cheeks turn red, but she looks away.
“Can you see how different our lives are, Philip? I live and interact with the underbelly of Chicago. You’re one of the elites. The feelings that you’re talking about are stemming more from guilt. You don’t want me. You deserve someone who can understand you and your life.”
I feel a flicker of irritation.
“So, you’re going to do the same thing I did, huh? Push me away because you don’t think you’re good enough for me?”
Her eyes widen, and I see her tamp down her indignation.
“Not good enough for you? I don’t have that low of an opinion of myself, Philip! I’m just saying that we move in two difference social circles and we don’t have much in common.”
I growl at her, “You know, it seems that you’re using what happened to you as an excuse to push me away, while the real reason is that what I did hurt you, and you don’t trust me not to do it again! I will always hold myself responsible for what you went through, Charlotte. Even if that’s not what you intend. But it doesn’t make you ‘different’ from me! And you know it.”
When she opens her mouth to refute me, nothing comes out and she just hits my chest with her undamaged wrist.
I hadn’t known I would hit the mark with such ease. But now that she had unwittingly revealed her reason for avoiding me, I wasn’t going to let this go.
I cup her face.
“You can run all you want from me, Charlotte, but I will tie you to me, one way or another. You might not need me, but I need you in my life. So, go ahead. Run. I’ll follow you wherever you go. I don’t care how much time it takes to convince you that I love you.”
Her lips tremble, and mine curve.
“What?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I love you. Why else would I let such an aggravating woman drive me crazy?
“I’m not aggravating,” she says automatically, and I chuckle.
“You’re the most exasperating woman I have ever met.”
She scowls at me.
“You’re the one who says you’re in love with me. Fall out of it if I’m so exasperating and aggravating.”
I bury my nose in her neck.
“I don’t want to.”
“Well, I’m not in love with you.” She tries to push me away.
“I’m working on that.” My voice is muffled. She stops shoving me away, but sounds annoyed.
“You always were pushy.” I glance up at her, and then pull away.
“How about this? I’ll sign those papers.” At her hopeful look, I wag my finger at her. “On a few conditions. You have to wait three months. Live here with me. Let me convince you otherwise. And if after three months, you don’t fall in love with me, I’ll back away. I’ll find some other way to be a part of your life.” When she looks like she is contemplating my offer, I add, “Also, I want you to let me invest in your bakery.” That throws her off.
“What?”
I shrug.
“I can’t help it. I’m a businessman. I see an opportunity, and I want to take it. Your place has potential. I want to have a stake in it as you expand. Which you will eventually, considering you’ve been taking those MBA classes.”
When she gapes at me, I smirk.
“Yeah, I got that from Agatha.” She purses her lips and I say, “Think about it. This is the only deal you get.”
After a few seconds which feel like someone is gripping my heart, she mutters, “Fine. You get three months.”
She looks so satisfied, as if she is sure she won’t fall prey to my charms. She has no idea how I plan to sweep her off her feet, right into my arms.
“Also,” my expression is serious. “I’m assigning a guard to you. This whole break-in seems to be targeted at you.” When she starts to protest, I silence her. “No. This is not up for negotiation. You’re also my wife, and that means you need your own security. You won’t feel stifled. I promise.”
She clearly doesn’t believe me, but right now her safety is my priority.
“One last thing. No matter what happens, you are not to go anywhere with Detective John. I don’t trust him. I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”
That is one thing that she agrees with at least.
10
Charlotte
“So, you’ll be staying here?” Agatha asks, as she chews on a cookie that I just baked.
I have been adamant that I use the kitchen if I was staying here.
Three months without baking is too cruel to ask of me.
“That’s the deal,” I tell my friend, who looks thoughtful.
The conversation between Philip and I has remained between us. I asked him to keep the events of back then between us, too. Talking about it once drained me in a way that still leaves me hollow.
“I’m glad,” Agatha murmurs. Hearing the noise from the other room makes her roll her eyes. “Makes sense that Philip won’t leave you alone.”
It doesn’t surprise me. After coercing the three-month agreement from me, he seemed visibly shaken by my confession about the events of ten years ago. He doesn’t want me out of his sight for too long.
I don’t know what to make of his protectiveness. A part of me feels cherished, while another part of me is curled up in a ball, wary and too scared to trust him.
At the time, giving in to his offer had seems like the only solution, but after four days of living with him, I feel myself actually thawing.