She brings her arms above her head, giving them a stretch when one of them pops loudly. “Think I can take you up on that offer?” She asks.
I laugh and nod. “Of course. I should be able to remember a thing or two. If anything just enough to make some of your muscles feel better.”
“Just don’t break me.” She laughs, sitting on the hard floor to stretch her legs and back. She groans softly. “Maybe I’m getting too old for this.”
I laugh. “You’re joking right?”
She shakes her head as she raises one leg in the air, keeping the other firm on the ground.
“Care for a little help?” I ask.
She thinks for a minute, and then finally nods. I take her extended leg and begin pushing it back for her.
She makes a face., “Is it bad that I don’t remember it ever hurting this badly after?”
“You’re just getting back into the swing of things. It’s perfectly normal. After what happened your body is just healing, but you’ll be back to where you were in no time,” I say, letting her leg down gently, allowing her to bring her other one up.
“I was thinking of maybe giving my family a call back,” she tells me suddenly. I look down at her, and I can tell she’s been thinking about this for a while. With everything that’s already on her mind, I’m sure calling her family is one that gives her quite the jolt of uneasiness.
“A call back?” I ask, finally catching the word.
She nods. “They called a few times, but,” her face flushes pink, “I didn’t answer.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because I didn’t know what to say,” she admits. “And, I’m kind of embarrassed to admit what happened, since my mom was so against me moving here in the first place.”
“I’m sure they’ll be really happy to hear from you,” I tell her. “Maybe you should think about going back home, and see them.”
She nods as I gingerly lower her other leg and help her off the floor. “Maybe, as long as the police give me the okay.”
“Given that you have protection, I wouldn’t see why they wouldn’t,” I tell her.
She nods. “We’ll see. Maybe after all of this is said and done, and I know that I am truly safe.”
* * * * * *
Back at her apartment, she takes the chance at a hot shower while I have a peek in her refrigerator. Even though I’m not entirely sure how to cook, surely there’s something I can fix her without blowing up her kitchen. I hear a loud groan come from the bathroom, and I can only assume she’s just stepped under the hot water. She sounds like I felt after my first day of police training. After what the two Loverboys have done to her body, I can only imagine that dancing has intensified her aches and pains. I continue digging around her kitchen and spot the fresh bananas on the counter. Being a girl like she is, I’m sure I can find peanut butter easy. I begin digging through various cabinets until I find a jar of crunchy peanut butter. Bread is easier, just in the bread box by the toaster. Peanut butter and banana sandwich; even I admit it’s something a kid would make, but it’s the least I can do. And, given my cooking skills, it’s safe.
The water stops shortly after I finish her sandwich. I begin cleaning up the mess I made, including the trail of peanut butter on the counter and bread crumbs. I hear her bare feet head to her bedroom for a quick change, and I place the sandwich at the table with a glass of milk for her.
“What’s this?” She asks, standing in the doorway, smiling.
“I figured after all that dancing it’s the least I could do,” I told her. “Sorry that I can’t cook.”
She smiles. “Nick, this is really sweet. Thank you,” she tells me, walking over and standing on her tip toes to kiss my cheek. “And, by the way,” she says, “I happen to love peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”
“You’ve done all of the cooking really, and we are…” I run a hand through my hair nervously and let out a little laugh. “We are dating. Or trying to at least. I wanted to do something nice for you.”
She gives me a bright smile another soft kiss on my cheek.
I smile and tug a chair out for her just as soft music begins playing. Her cell phone. She excuses herself for a moment to get it.
“Hello?” I hear her say as she’s coming toward me. She takes a deep breath in and her eyes quickly meet mine. “Who is this?” Her body freezes and her mouth drops. Her breathes become ragged, and I suddenly recognize the look in her eyes; in two steps I rush over taking, the phone and press it to my ear
“I got you once, and I will do it again. This time, you won’t be so lucky, pretty girl.”
I squeeze the phone hard in my hand. “Who the hell is this?” I look at Charlie, whose lip is beginning to quiver. “Hello?” I yell once more to realize the phone line is dead. I glance at the screen to see ‘call ended’ flashing in red letters.
I look at Charlie, who collapses to her knees, her eyes filling with tears and her entire body beginning to shake. I kneel in front of her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Charlie, look at me.”
“Nick, that was one of them,” she says. “My number,” she stammers. “They have my number.”
I pull her tightly into my arms as she begins to weep. “Charlie, listen to me, they won’t hurt you. They won’t ever hurt you again. I’m here. I’m right here.” I take her face in my hands. “C’mon, Charlie, Baby, look at me.”
Her sobs increase as she begins to gasp for air. “Nick.”
“Shh,” I say. “I’m right here, Charlie, no one is going to hurt you.”
She shakes her head. “Nick, what if,” she pauses. “They know where I live.”
I shake my head. “They don’t.” I reassure her. “They don’t know.”
She throws her body into mine, nearly knocking me backward. “Please.”
“I won’t let him hurt you again,” I tell her. “C’mon, take some deep breaths for me,.” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her tightly. “Don’t let them take it back, Charlie. Look what you did today. Fight them, Charlie.”
She listens and slowly begins to draw a long breath in and release it slowly. “Nick, what if…”
I stop her. “No ‘what ifs’; I’m not letting anyone get near you,” I say, helping her off the floor. “I do have to notify someone at the department.”
She nods as I lead her over to the couch. “Need anything to drink?” I ask.
She nods again slowly as she curls herself up in the corner of the couch. “Water.”
I pull my phone from my pocket as I grab for a bottle of cold water and return it to her. I calmly explain what had happened, and within moments, an unmarked car is on it’s way. I hear Charlie take a few gulps of water and a few more deep breaths. I return my phone to my pocket as I head to the couch with her. She looks up and into my eyes. Hers are already streaked red from tears and her nose is beginning to shine red as well. I quietly take a seat next to her and pull her into my arms.
“Things were just beginning to feel normal again,” she says.
I shake my head. “Don’t let them take that away again.”
“I can’t live like this, Nick,” she says. “Who knows what they will do next.”
“Don’t think like that,” I tell her. “We’ll get them.”
“When?”
“I wish I had the answer,” I say. “I really do.”
“Then how can I live a normal life? How can I go on like nothing happened, when I have no idea what they’re capable of doing next?”
Before I can answer her, the knock at the door interrupts me. “Andrews!” I hear my name called from the other side, and immediately recognize the voice.
She looks at me, wiping at her eye. “It’s okay, go on.”
I take wide steps to the door and unlock each dead bolt. Sergeant Wilson doesn’t waste a moment stepping in and past me.
“A phone call?” I hear him ask as I glance back at Charlie, who is curling herself up in the corner of the couch with her bottle of wa
ter. I want nothing more than to go over and take her in my arms, and I can’t.
I nod.
“Where’s the phone?” He asks.
I retrieve the phone from where we’d left it on the floor and bring it to him.
He glances down at the smart phone in a clueless way. If I wasn’t so angry, I would almost laugh at him. “Biltmore,” he calls over to the accompanying officer. “Monkey with this thing, pull me any information you can.”
He takes the phone and begins pressing a few buttons. Within seconds, he makes a strange face. “Charlotte, was this the number where the call came in from?” He walks the phone to her, showing her the exact number.
She rubs at her eyes and then finally nods. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“That’s not possible,” he says.
“But, it was!” She yells. “Why the hell would I lie!?” She looks up at me now, infuriated. “Nick!”
“Hold on,” I say. “What’s the issue with the phone number?” I ask.
Biltmore checks the phone once more, plinking away at the touch screen. “Look, the time and date stamps match her story, but,” he pauses. “I don’t even have to run a tracer on this number.” He looks up. “It came from the department.”
“As - as in,” Charlie starts, “The police department?”
He nods. “I think it’s the number for the records department.”
“So, you’re saying this guy might be a cop?” Charlie asks.
Wilson only shakes his head. “That’s not possible.”
“Well, the number is to the department,” Biltmore says. “We’ll still contact your phone company, obtain records, and follow procedure. But, these guys may have the intelligence to cover every little track.”
Charlie’s lips turn down. “In other words, they could end up running the streets forever?”
“No,” I say. “Don’t think like that.”
“They somehow got my email, my phone number,” she says. “What next, huh?”
“If we could get them to call back, we could always trace the call,” Biltmore says. “Pin point their exact location.”
“How can I just get them to call back?” She asks. “I don’t think it works that way. And, I don’t want to talk to either of them ever again.”
“Well, how about this, did you notice any back ground noise, any distortion; anything that would give away where he was?” Biltmore asks her.
She shakes her head. “You could hear a pin drop behind him,” she says. “The only thing I heard was his voice.”
“What did his voice sound like?” The Chief interrupts.
Charlie looks over at him. “Like a normal man. Deep; not very rough. Seemed to articulate his words well.”
“These guys could very well have an advanced program that allows them to call a number and simply display a number of their choice,” Biltmore says.
“So, in other words, even with phone records and tracking, you might not be able to find a damn thing out?” Charlie says.
“We don’t know until we try,” Wilson tells her.
She purses her lips and gets off the couch. “I just need a minute. I’ll be in my room.”
I give her a nod, and we all watch as she disappears down the hallway and into her bedroom.
“We’re running ourselves in circles,” I tell them. “You either find these guys or you don’t.”
“It’s not that simple, Andrews,” Andrews says, “You know we’re doing everything we can, around the clock.”
“I don’t know how much more of this she can take,” I admit, crossing my arms in front of my body. “She was just starting to feel like life was normal, and then this happens.”
“Look, I can tell you’ve gotten attached to this case,” he says. “But, we are doing our jobs. Just as well as you’re doing yours.”
“Then find something; anything,” I yell. “You find one; you’ll find both of them!”
“Andrews, I’m sorry we didn’t catch these guys on the first night. I know things aren’t going how you want them, but, you have got to control your attitude.”
I look up and nod. “I just think we’re running ourselves in circles, and that’s what these guys want. Didn’t you ever think that they could be putting themselves out there like this just so they can tease us?” I ask.
Wilson only nods. “Of course we thought of that.”
“These guys are obviously smart,” I say. “But, we can’t keep letting them run the streets.”
“What else can we do, Andrews?” he asks. “What exactly do you propose we do?”
“Find them! Why is it so hard?” I yell.
“Look, I know you have a lot of time invested in this, and you’re doing a remarkable job, but leave the hard work to us,” he says, heading for the door as he motions for Biltmore to follow. “When we have the phone records, we’ll let you know.”
I fight the urge to punch something as I lock the door behind them. I take a minute to rub the sides of my head in hopes of preventing the headache that I can feel coming on. I make my way into Charlie’s room, and find her laying on the bed with her back to me.
“You didn’t have to get yourself in trouble on account of me,” she says softly.
I shake my head. “I didn’t get in trouble.”
“So, yelling back and forth isn’t getting you in trouble?” She asks. “Or how about being asked to control your attitude?”
I laugh it off. “Do you know how many times a day I’m asked to control my attitude?”
“No.” I can tell in her voice that she’s ready to cry again.
I sit slowly on her bed and drop my hand on her shoulder. “If I had a nickel for every time I heard that I’d be a billionaire.”
She slowly rolls over, her tear stained eyes meeting mine. “How is it possible that these guys are so good at hiding their tracks?” She asks.
“Baby, I wish I knew,” I tell her. “Some people just know technology. And, we have to figure out what they know before we do anything.”
She sniffles. “I can’t stay in this apartment, scared to death.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want you to.”
“I can’t just stop going to college, seeing friends, or work,” she tells me. “You know, I actually thought I was going to go to my friend Maggie’s party this weekend. How stupid was I?”
“Why can’t you?” I ask.
“Nick, what if one of them is there?” She asks.
“I’ll come with you,” I say. “As a date.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“You can,” I tell her. “I don’t even want to hear you say something like that again.”
“How can I set foot out that door again, knowing that two men in this city want to kill me?”
“Easy,” I tell her. “Because I’m with you.”
“Nick.”
I stop her. “You said yourself that things were just beginning to feel normal again,” I say. “I’m not about to let these bastards take that back from you. If you want to go to the party, we’ll go. If you want to go to work, we’ll go. I won’t let either of them take that back from you.”
She sat up slowly as she pulls me into a hug. “I just wish I knew why it had to happen to me,” she says into my ear.
I feel a surge of pain in my heart. Of all the things I have been asking myself, one thing was “why Charlie?” After growing so close, I find myself asking myself the same thing over and over with no real answer. I let out a breath and give her a little squeeze. “I wish I knew, too.”
“I will think about the party,” she says. “Maybe later I’ll feel differently about going.”
I run my hand up and down her back. “Just don’t let these guys take back what you worked so hard for.”
She gives me a nod. “It doesn’t make it hurt or suck any less.”
“I know, but, who knows, maybe we’ll catch that break in the case that we need.”
She nods, giving her hair a push from
her eyes. “You don’t think these guys could really be cops, do you?”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. Cops are the good guys, remember?” I smile. I can only hope I’m correct in my theory.
* * * * * *
After some hard convincing over the course of 48 hours, I had somehow managed to convince Charlie to go to her friend’s party. After whining, begging, and pleading with her, she finally caved and has agreed to go. It’s easy to tell that part of her is excited about it and the other part completely dreads it. She’s been scampering around the apartment, moving from one room to the next to make an attempt to get ready. Her nerves seem to be doing a number on her as she fights what I can imagine is a slight panic attack.
“Nick, I don’t think I want to do this,” I hear her grumble from inside the bathroom.
“Charlie, it’ll be fine,” I call to her from the living room, where I make an attempt to dig through my things. “Don’t worry; if it’s not what either of us expect, we’ll leave, get some take out, and come back here. Simple as that, and you’ll see your friends.” I take a moment to shift through the various shirts I have on hand; I was trying to not look like a cop. That part is easy. Trying to look like a guy in college? Not so easy.
I hear her bare feet step back into the bedroom. “I don’t think I’ve showed this much skin in months,” I hear her mumble. “This is ridiculous. I can’t wear this.”
“Isn’t it the top that you purposely bought for this party?” I ask.
“Well, yeah,” she says. “But, that was then. This is now,” she tells me. “Things are just different now.”
I yank a simple white polo shirt from its resting spot at the bottom of my bag. I find Charlie in her bedroom, standing in front of her dresser mirror, examining herself closely. Her jeans were well worn and faded, but paired with a green, fitted strapless top. She crosses her arms, giving the sides a tug up.
She turns to stare at me. “How do I...”
I don’t let her finish. “You look beautiful; it’s okay to show a little skin,” I tell her. “Don’t let what happened effect who you are, how you act, or dress.” I step closer. “What you’re wearing is perfect, and you do look stunning.”
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