Branson raised his eyebrows. “Did you just apologize?”
“It’s all I’ve been doing.” I shook my head and scrubbed my hands down my face. “Where were we?”
Cooper looked shocked. “Um… We were talking about how it’s pretty obvious that someone is out to get Mercer. At least to fuck with him.”
“Any ideas on who?”
He shrugged. “He’s made enemies, but none stateside. It doesn’t make sense.”
Vince sat forward. “It all started with Jessica. When her body was found, it stirred something up.”
I grunted. “More like, it stirred someone up.”
They nodded and we all sat there, thinking to ourselves. None of us were detectives. No one was ever going to confuse us with Sherlock Holmes. We were great at being bodyguards. Trying to find out why Mercer was getting framed for a cold-case murder was beyond our abilities, though.
“I don’t even know where to fucking start,” Cooper groaned. “Too bad the detectives in town are on the wrong side.”
We sat there for a while, trying to decipher all that was happening, with zero results. I was about to excuse myself to get back to Charlie when my phone rang.
I looked down and saw her cell phone number. Taking a few seconds to step away from the guys, I answered it, hoping to hear her in a better frame of mind towards me. “Hey.”
“Tucker, I think I’m overreacting, but I think something’s wrong.” Charlie’s voice had lost all of its chilliness, but it was replaced with a panic that seized my chest.
“Start talking. What’s going on?”
“Gerald made me go to an appearance at this mall and I’m in the back of this big room they use. Gerald left me back here. There’s no one here, but I think something’s wrong.”
“Stay calm, Charlie. I’m on my way. Where are you?” I stalked back to the table where the guys were sat and grabbed my keys. “What mall?”
“I just heard something.” Her whispered words were harsh and shaky with clear terror.
“Fucking tell me where you are, Charlie.”
“I don’t… I don’t know. It’s a mall. It’s… it’s run-down. There were lots of trees around it.” She’d start crying. The whimper in her voice was slight, but it was there. “Something’s wrong, Tucker. I can feel it.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I recited the words she was saying to the guys and demanded an answer for where that was. To Charlie, I just tried to calm her down. “Charlie, it’s okay. I’m going to get to you. It’s probably nothing. I just want you to stay calm.”
“It’s not nothing. It’s—” Her shrill scream punctured through the phone and ripped through my body.
The guys all heard it, their bodies instantly tensing and getting ready to fight for her. I forced myself to breathe and listen to what was happening. The sounds of an undeniable scuffle reached me and I gripped the phone so hard that I thought I would snap it in half.
“No! Stop!” Charlie’s voice was raw and horrified. “Tucker!”
The line went dead and I spun on my brothers around me. “Where the fuck is she?”
I was ready to pull my hair out. She was in trouble and I couldn’t get to her. I couldn’t find her. Finally, Vince tossed his phone to me.
“It’s the old mall on Dilton Avenue. You can be there in twenty minutes if you take Washington down to Smith.”
I was already running for my truck. I wasn’t going to get there in time. There was no way. No one could fight someone off for twenty minutes without getting hurt.
My heart was pounding in my chest, beating so hard that I should’ve been worried about it. As I sped away from Black Dog, I did all the positive thinking I could do. She had to be okay. I had to get there in time. She needed me.
Speeding to the mall, or at least where I thought it was, I couldn’t help hearing her voice repeating that she thought we were friends, over and over again. It was haunting.
My phone rang as I got closer to the mall and I looked down and saw Vince was calling me. “What?”
“She’s okay, man.” He tried to say more, but got cut off.
Sonnie came on the line. “I was watching her event. Someone was recording it live. She just ran onto the stage. She’s okay. Everyone’s freaking out, though.”
I didn’t slow down. “Did she look okay?”
Sonnie hesitated. “She looked roughed-up.”
I swore and dropped the phone onto the seat so I could focus on the road. I broke every speed limit and would’ve gone to jail if I’d been spotted, but I made it to the shitty mall.
Sliding to a stop in front of one of the entrances where there were crowds of people coming out, I shut off the truck and sprinted into the building. There were a few signs pointing the way to the event and I followed them, nearly shoving people out of the way as I went.
I spotted Charlie as soon as I turned a corner and moved away from the main part of the mall. In this back corner, there were chairs piled up everywhere, tipped over and knocked around. Sitting on one of the upright ones was Charlie. She looked like she’d put up a real fight. Her hair was messed up, her eye was already bruising, and her lips were bloody. She was holding herself like her ribs hurt.
When she glanced up and spotted me, she started crying. The officer she was talking to looked over at me and stood up.
I held up my hands and moved closer. “I’m a friend.”
Ignoring him, I knelt in front of Charlie and held my arms out to her. I hoped she’d let me hug her, but I knew she was upset with me. I wasn’t even all that sure who the hug was more for. Seeing her, knowing she was okay, hadn’t settled my heart enough. I needed to feel her and know that she was okay.
Angel that she was, she moved into my arms and let me hold her. Her tears came harder and faster, until she was gasping and bawling so hard that I felt insanely desperate to make it better. I held her firmly against my chest and stroked her hair and back, telling her anything I could to make her feel better.
“Man, you’re crushing her.” The officer patted me on the shoulder and smiled at me. “She’s okay.”
I pulled back slightly and pressed a light kiss to the side of her head. “Let me look at you.”
She whimpered when I let her go and that little sound broke my heart. She was okay. I kept telling myself that. Looking her over, I could see that she must’ve given someone a hell of a fight. Her nails were broken and I could see blood under them.
“Has someone scraped her nails, yet?”
The cop shook his head. “The detectives are on their way.”
“Make sure they do.” I forced a smile and met Charlie’s eyes. “You fought hard, huh? I’m proud of you.”
She nodded. “He didn’t count on all the working out Gerald makes me do.”
As if speaking his name had materialized him, Gerald cleared his throat. “There are cameras all around. They might get the wrong idea about you two if you aren’t careful.”
I stood up, instantly furious. “How about you worry about your client, instead of her image? She was attacked. And why? Because you fucking forced her out without me. Then you left her by herself back there. You practically held up a sign begging Sam to come and take a chance at grabbing her. Are you fucking stupid or just greedy enough that you were willing to let her get fucked up for the publicity?”
His face turned red and he stood up taller, trying to be bigger, even when he had no chance against me. “I just want to remind you that you are an employee, Mr. Fields.”
“Go fuck yourself. You let her get hurt. This is your responsibility. I’m not so sure you didn’t let it happen. Where were you when she was fighting to save herself?”
Charlie put her hand on my arm to pull me back, but I was seeing red.
Gerald started to go purple. “You’re out of line!”
“No answer, huh? Were you hiding with John somewhere? Playing hide the sausage or whatever the hell you two assholes play in private?”
“You’re
fired!”
I grabbed his shirt and thought about laying him out, but realized last minute that he’d love that. Instead, I forced myself to straighten his shirt and step back. “Karma is a funny thing, Gerald. What you put Charlie through will come back to you. I hope you’re ready for that.”
Backing away, I took Charlie’s hand and pulled her away from him. Around a corner, with at least a sense of privacy, I looked down at her and growled. “I should’ve been here.”
She looked close to tears again. “He fired you.”
I shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve been fired. Come with me, Charlie. You’re not safe with them.”
“What?”
“There’s something going on with them. I don’t know what it is, but it feels bad, Charlie. I know that they’re fucking. It’s something more than that, though.”
Her head snapped back. “What? No, they’re not…”
“I saw it, Charlie. They’re definitely fucking. Gerald isn’t looking out for you. He’s looking out for John. Right now, that’s too dangerous for you.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. If I leave, I’ll lose everything.”
“If you stay, you could get hurt, Charlie.”
She bit her lip and blinked up at me with a scared look on her face. “I can’t leave. I would have nothing. I wouldn’t even have a home. I don’t have a choice, Tucker.”
Frustrated and angry at her for not making the choice that could save her life, I ran my hands through my hair and backed away. “I don’t want to leave you with them.”
“Maybe you can stay. I can talk to Gerald.” She grabbed my arm. “I’m sorry that we fought. I want you here.”
My chest tightened. “Be careful, Charlie. Call me if you need me.”
She opened and closed her mouth a few times. “That’s it?”
I felt like shit, but I also felt raw for some reason. I wanted to cry and there was no way I was going to give in to that emotion. “I have to go.”
I moved away from her and stopped by Gerald on the way out. “If she gets hurt, I’ll make you sorry you were ever born. No matter what it takes. I don’t mind jail if it means you’d suffer.”
Chapter 21
Charlie
I woke up from a dream about Tucker feeling like crying. It’d been a couple of days since I’d seen him and I’d had to stop myself from calling him multiple times. Things were okay. There were other security guards around me. I was fine. Except I wasn’t. We really hadn’t been friends—or anything—if he could just walk away from me so easily, without a glance backwards.
The dream had been one sad moment after another. I blamed that for the weird feelings I was experiencing as I hung out in bed. I was in Tucker’s room still. He’d stopped and grabbed Spark at some point, so it was just me.
The room was too quiet. The whole house was too quiet. And warm. I sat up and realized I’d been sweating. I couldn’t place why I was so hot. Thoughts of Tucker crowded my brain as I kicked my covers off of my legs and moved my feet to the floor. I felt around for my slippers and even they were hot.
Everything was so quiet. The house was never that quiet. Under that consuming silence, there was something oppressive. Maybe the heat. It felt like someone had turned the heat up too high.
I stood up and coughed. The air felt thicker. What was happening? I called out to see if there was anyone close by, but no one answered. Straining to hear anything, I finally caught an eerily familiar crackling sound. Like wood splintering and boiling under intense heat.
Panic seizing my chest, telling myself I was having a nightmare, I ran to the door and grabbed the knob. I screamed as pain shot up my hand and arm. I pulled my blistered hand away and gasped. I still couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
I’d had the nightmare for years. The same one. I wake up and the house is on fire. The smoke is choking me; everything is hot; I can’t escape. I was asleep. It had to be. Backing up until my knees bumped into my bed, I sat down heavily and cradled my hand against my chest. Dreams didn’t hurt.
The crackling sounds slowly grew louder until that oppressive silence was just a memory. The heat thickened with the smoke until I was pouring sweat and choking on the air in the room.
I had to do something. I was going to die. I still didn’t move. Flashbacks of the night my parents died held me and I waited for my neighbor to rush in and save me. Sitting and choking on each breath, I told myself he was coming. Mom and Dad wouldn’t make it, but he’d save me.
I was crying. I could see the smoke pouring in from under my door. No one was coming. I scooted away from the wall, the heat against my back too much. Grasping my knees, my still broken nails dug into my bare skin. My body screamed at me to run. I had to get away. My mind was stuck. I couldn’t break free of the fear.
Something fell somewhere in the house. The loud crashing shook me. I was on my feet before I even knew it. My movements were robotic, but I had to get out of the house. I didn’t want to die.
Forcing myself to go to the window, I looked out and saw Gerald and John standing beside the recording studio at the back of the property. They were pointing and talking, but there was no panic to their movements. I watched in horror as they turned and moved farther away from the house.
Fuck. I was going to die if I didn’t do something. I didn’t want to die. I wasn’t ready.
Fighting through the smoke and panic, I beat at the window. It was useless. I looked around the room and realized it was even hazier with smoke. If I didn’t get out soon, I wasn’t going to make it. Thoughts of my parents and what they’d gone through threatened to slow me down, but I still felt around me for something heavy to break the glass with. I couldn’t just lie down and die.
My fingers connected with a paperweight on the desk and I grabbed it and quickly threw it against the window with all the strength I had left. Immediately, the air felt lighter, but the heat at my back grew. Knowing that I didn’t have much longer, I hit the broken glass with my fists again, breaking enough out that I could fit through. Shards of it cut into my skin, but I kept going.
On the roof that jutted over the back of the house, I looked around and saw that the house was truly on fire in a huge way. It was mesmerizing to look at. All around me, it was going up in flames that danced through the night.
The only way down was to jump and I didn’t hesitate. The flames had come into the room and they were racing towards me. There were bushes below and I hoped they would cushion my fall.
Jumping from the roof of my house, I took a second to regret the ten-foot ceilings on the first floor. My heart lodged in my throat and I held my breath as I dropped. I landed and felt pain radiate through my entire body. I couldn’t catch my breath and ended up gasping for air as I lay flattened in a bush that I couldn’t even name.
Pain took over as I finally caught my breath and started coughing. It was torture and I felt tears leaking from my eyes even as blackness crowded my vision.
*
“The major fire at Charlotte Crier-Banks’ home is said to have left the up-and-coming DIY-er in the hospital. Her husband, John Banks, was out of town at the time.”
I pushed my empty Jell-O cup aside and stared at the TV. The news had been reporting on the fire all morning. I’d gotten zero sleep after waking up in the ambulance on the way in to the ER, but I was anything but exhausted. I was traumatized, terrified, and even furious, but not exhausted.
I knew I’d seen John at the house the night before. For whatever reason, I’d thought that he’d been injured, after thinking about it for a while. He’d looked hurt, somehow. Why would the news not know that he was there? Why had he and Gerald left, knowing I was still inside?
My stomach turned as I thought more about it. They’d left me inside. One of the nurses mentioned that it was a neighbor who’d called 911 when he’d seen the fire. Not Gerald. Not John. It wasn’t sitting well with me.
A nurse strolled in and smiled at me. “Your heart monitor is te
lling on you. What’s going on, honey? Do you need something?”
I glanced over at the machine I was hooked up to and barely held in a scowl. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t have a home after the fire. It was burned to the ground.
“Already, an arson investigator is reporting that the house was covered in an accelerant. Gasoline, they’re guessing. It looks like Charlotte’s stalker took his game to the next level last night.”
She glanced over at the TV and shook her head. “You shouldn’t be watching that stuff. You’re safe here, Charlotte. That’s just going to upset you.”
There were lots of things to upset me. The news reporting on someone trying to kill me was definitely up there on my list, but there were other things, too. “It’s fine.”
“Can I get you anything?”
I shook my head and rested into my pillow, faking like I was falling asleep. I just wanted to be left alone. I didn’t even need to be in the hospital. I’d fared rather well, all things considered. Somehow, I’d only suffered from minimal smoke inhalation. I’d been checked out and, with an inhaler, I’d be fine. My hand was burned to hell and back, but it was wrapped up and okay. I had cuts and bruises all over, but even those were okay. I felt like shit, but I was fine. I didn’t want to be in the hospital, feeling like a pincushion.
Yet, there I was, because, for some odd reason, no one had showed up for me. Gerald wasn’t there. John wasn’t there. No one.
My subconscious whispered the name that was really bothering me. Tucker. Tucker wasn’t there. I’d assumed he’d be there. He’d said that if I needed him, he’d be there. I needed him. I was starting to believe that everything between us had been bullshit. I didn’t mean to sound dramatic, but I was in a fucking hospital bed, so I felt like I had the right.
Maybe I’d imagined it, but Tucker and I had formed some kind of bond. He was nice. I’d thought he cared. He’d just walked away and not looked back, though. Which, in all honesty, sucked. I don’t know why, but I liked him. Thick Cajun accent and all.
I groaned as I moved, my back a smorgasbord of bruises and scrapes, and listened as the reporters kept talking about me.
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