by P. M. Briede
Now that everyone was sufficiently and satisfactorily identified I looked at Wesley and spoke my hopes that we were leaving. I needed some time away from everyone to process the day. Wesley offered to drive my car and I gladly turned the keys over to him. Colter and Deacon wanted to ride with their uncle since they hadn’t seen him in forever but Spencer insisted the boys ride with Tristan.
The boys packed up their things while I shut down my computer. Tristan was holding the gun box and I’m sure the gun was tucked safely away inside. I dug in my pocket, fished out the key, and handed it to him gratefully. I hated being the keeper of the damn thing anyway. Walking over to loveseat, I gathered my purse and searched the end table for my book. “Spencer, did you happen to grab my book?”
“I put it in your briefcase,” Wesley piped up, raising the case. As my eyes met his, I saw the pride in the fact that he’d truly given me a gift I loved.
We walked to the parking garage, the patrolman leading the way. Wesley started dragging his feet. When I slowed to match his pace, his hand gingerly reached for mine. His fingers fumbled awkwardly until I interlaced mine in his with assuredness. It didn’t happen immediately though because his touch stopped my heart, making me familiar with the love he’d referred to in his letter.
Chapter 7
Not sure where I thought we’d go, I was disappointed when we pulled into Paige’s driveway. Paige and Olivier weren’t home. Wesley had tried multiple times to talk to me during the drive, but I wasn’t up for conversation. Other than when he released my hand to put me in the car and walk around to the driver’s side, I hadn’t let him go. So I knew from the way his hand snapped out to recapture mine after I’d released him to seek out the privacy of Paige’s bedroom that he was unhappily stunned.
“I need a moment, Wesley,” I explained before he could say anything. “Your nephews have missed you. Spend the time with them. I’ll find you soon.” I rushed upstairs not turning back to see his reaction.
Safely tucked away in Paige’s bedroom, I curled up in her armchair that overlooked the backyard. Wesley and Tristan were playing and joking around with the boys. But the tension Wesley carried was obvious. I tore my eyes from the sight of one of the men I loved interacting so paternally with our nephews. I closed my eyes to the vision of him behaving the same way with our own imaginary children. I needed to make a decision about Wesley and Olivier. This yin and yang, push and pull was killing me.
If it was as simple as picking between the two men, I was confident I’d have done so by now. But it wasn’t. It was about deciding which woman I wanted to be. Olivier and I weren’t equals in many ways. He’s an angel. I’m human and a muse. He’s immortal, while I’m very much not. Yet the one overwhelming quality we equally shared was the need to be saved from our own self-loathing. His had made him arrogant, petty, and a brooding, unpleasant fellow. Mine manifested as a debilitating shyness, making me socially awkward and afraid of life in general. I could talk myself out of any risk, saying the potential reward was never worth the more probable consequence. With Olivier, in many ways I’d bloomed and grown for the sheer fact that I had to. I rarely stood up to anyone, always going with the flow, leaving my fate to others. But I stood up to Olivier. I challenged him as he challenged me. I called him out on his crap. And I’d tamed and tempered his instinctual hostility. We continued to disagree, but in a healthy way, that would keep our relationship interesting, making me stronger. Then there’s the fact that an angel was enthralled with me, finding me amazing and sexy. How could that not be a confidence boost?
Then there was Wesley’s Charlotte. Not necessarily a damsel in distress but definitely more mousey in terms of following his lead. Our longstanding and close knit relationship made us in tune with each other. There was no danger to our relationship ending in implosion from disagreements. There was no doubt in my mind we’d never grow apart. He was sensitive, sometimes overly so. I didn’t always want to be catered to or have every whim granted. Grand gestures shouldn’t be an everyday occurrence. I never wanted to lose sight of how special he was, how I should appreciate him daily. But how do you ask someone to restrain their love for you because it’s too much? And I couldn’t ignore the power I could wield with him in the bedroom. Wesley inspired me to let all of it loose, and revel in every delectable millisecond of not only sex, but any intimacy with him.
The whole situation was so problematic because the truth was I loved both the women I’d become due to their love and companionship. Who would allow me to reconcile both Charlottes? Who would love and cherish and encourage them both? Which man would be willing to step into the shoes of the other and fill the void that would result when I finally was brave enough to let one of them go? These were issues I needed to share with them, a challenge I needed to confront them with. But I was afraid this much truth would alter them as they strove to win me from the other versus showing me if they’d be willing to adapt and accept the woman I wanted to be. Additionally, there was the possibility that neither of them would rise to the occasion and I’d lose them both. What then?
My body tensed from the stresses of the day, of my decision, of my life. I’d been cooped up indoors like a prisoner for weeks now, getting only a few hours a day in Paige’s backyard. I hadn’t seen anything I would consider a home or enjoyed any of the pastimes I like best. It was time for an escape.
Somehow I managed to get out the house and down the street with no one noticing. I headed to the neighborhood’s historic park on the edge of a wood filled with ancient Spanish moss and magnolia trees. It was an aspect of Paige’s neighborhood I envied over mine and it would comfort my spirit.
At first I enjoyed my stolen freedom. I meandered at a leisurely pace, taking in the sights and sounds of her neighborhood. It wasn’t long before I noticed two figures following me at a distance of about half a block. Instinctually, I panicked. If Cleveland and Duke were working with Celinda and Abigail to kill me, ankle bracelets were not going to deter them from coming after me. I peeked over my shoulder and relaxed when I realized the builds of the men behind me didn’t match those of my tormenters. I told myself to calm down. This is a big neighborhood and you’re heading towards a popular park. Maybe they are just going there as well. To test my theory I stopped and pretended to casually look at my surroundings. Trouble was, they stopped too.
So I was, in fact, being followed. What the hell had I been thinking? What should I do?! Call Wesley! I reached for my phone only to find my back pocket empty. God damn it! But so far my tail had made no move to get closer to me. They just seemed to be watching. So the best thing would be to continue to the park and loop around to get back to Paige’s.
By the time I got to the park I was sweating and it wasn’t from the heat or exertion. I was terrified. The men had cut the distance between us in half, even with me quickening my pace. It also hadn’t helped that one of the times I’d looked over my shoulder I saw what looked like a pistol on one of their hips. I’d had about all I could stomach of guns today.
I looked around taking in all the families. I noticed a large birthday party along the edge of the woods. If I could get lost in the crowd I could escape through the woods and cut the trek to Paige’s in half. Hopefully, whoever was following me wouldn’t know the woods as well as I did.
The plan worked somewhat. I lost sight of my pursuers in the crowd and was able to get into the woods. But I wasn’t deep in their cover before I heard people voicing complaints at being manhandled at the party. And the complaints weren’t because someone cut in line at the buffet table. No, these sounded like I was being purposefully searched for. I took off running deeper into the cover of the trees. Crashing footsteps behind me announced they’d entered the woods. I was scared out of my mind and had no idea which direction to run.
Figuring they were counting on that, I decided the best course of action was to retreat upward. I was luckily standing at the base of a tree with sturdy low hanging branches. I didn’t hesitate in grabbing one and planti
ng my foot to start climbing. My experience from climbing trees on my father’s plantation and fear of them catching up sped me along. Soon I found myself about twenty-five feet in the air with a clear view of what was unfolding below.
I heard the men approach before I saw them. I carefully maneuvered myself around the trunk, putting it between their sightline and me. When they got to the base of my tree they slowed down in their pursuit. I froze and held my breath because I recognized one of them. He was the blue-eyed exile I’d seen through the stairwell door at the Ritz. The same one Olivier had talked with in the music room at the school when I’d felt as though I was going to burst into flames in the hallway. That could only mean I was being watched by the exiles. There was no way they arrived just as I was sneaking out of Paige’s house. They had to have been watching and waiting which meant they’d have seen Wesley drive me there.
A voice drifted up to me. “Where could she have gone?” the man I didn’t recognize asked.
The blue-eyed exile raised a hand to silence his companion and peered around. It was then I noticed the woods had gone deadly quiet. The chirping of birds and rustling of leaves were absent. I couldn’t even hear the sounds of the families from the park. The fall breeze that had been gently blowing had stopped, leaving the trees still. It was almost as if the world was trying to help these men find me. So I quietly took a deep breath and held it so the angel below me wouldn’t pick up on my presence.
The man grew impatient. “How long are we supposed to stand here? She’s getting away.” He picked up a rock and threw it, earning a thump on the head from the exile.
“When I call for silence, your job is to obey, not question and whine,” blue eyes reprimanded.
“What’s so special about her?”
My skin tingled and grew warm. That could mean only one thing. Curiosity got the better of me and I peered around the trunk to look down at them. Even at a distance I could make out the blue fire burning in the eyes of the exile but there was none in his hands. “That’s my business. Come on.” He motioned for the man to follow him and they moved deeper into the woods.
I didn’t immediately climb down. There was no way to know if they’d come back or where they’d go. I sat in the tree trying to come up with a good plan for how to get myself out of the mess I’d created by selfishly seeking “freedom.” I didn’t find it. Instead, I was even more trapped, twenty-five feet off the ground. I felt like a cat waiting for a fireman to come rescue her.
But no one came to rescue me. It was now dusk. You can’t stay up here forever; I scolded myself. So I took a deep breath and made my way down the trunk. Either I was going to get back to Paige’s safely or I wasn’t. Sitting in the tree was just delaying the inevitable. My heart was pounding and coupled with the fading light it took me a long time to reach the ground.
When I did I headed for Paige’s. There was enough light from the moon above to make out the shadow of houses on the right. I followed them to the park. As I was coming out of it to follow the street I ran into a very startled Wesley. He caught me before I fell backwards.
When I looked into his face I found bright, brown eyes that glowed with panic and relief. Before I knew it I was pressed against his body. His hands were at my waist and he was panting. His kiss was deep, demanding, and urgent. His tongue lapped at mine greedily. Clinging to him, I freed my lips from his, gasping for breath. His name slid off my tongue to dance in the night with the shiver of his body.
I expected Wesley to kiss along my neck or reclaim my mouth. He did neither. “What the hell are you doing out here?!” he shouted.
“I’m sorry?” I asked confused.
He misunderstood me and pushed me away from him. “That’s not sufficient, Charlotte! Do you have any idea what all my mind has concocted these last few hours? I was terrified that somehow someone had gotten into the house and spirited you off. Do you not realize the danger you’re in?” His hands had moved to cup my face, forcing it to meet his angry inquisition. When I fought him one of his hands traveled until his fingers wrapped around my neck. I flinched, at first afraid he might be confused again. Had the exile gotten to him? Was he going to be used to kill me? It would be an unforeseen move.
But Wesley didn’t seem to know anything about my followers and they didn’t seem to be anywhere around. I opened my mouth to tell him but snapped it shut before I did. There was nothing he could do about it. He was powerless against an exile and telling him would make him do something reckless. “I needed to get out of the house,” I offered meekly. It wasn’t a complete lie. It’s why I’d left in the first place. It just wasn’t why I’d stayed away so long.
Wesley glared at me and snatched my hand. As we made our way out of the trees and back to the park, it was full dark, the only light coming from the moon and street lights. I knew Olivier and Paige would be home by now. I knew Olivier would be furious. But I couldn’t make myself care, not when I was trying to figure out how to protect myself without endangering everyone I loved, without losing myself. I couldn’t be a prisoner anymore. Especially since it wasn’t even a guarantee the exiles or their pawns wouldn’t get to me.
A few houses from Paige’s, I saw Olivier standing in her yard, his head oscillating up and down the street. “Looks like you’ve upset your sentinel,” Wesley observed. I had no idea what time it was or how long Olivier had been home. It was evident that seeing me strolling back, seemingly without a care in the world, hand in hand with his rival, broke his heart.
Olivier’s voice roared out in the night. “Damn it, Charlotte! Where the hell have you been?!” I was close enough now to see the hardships the day had wrought on him. The street lamps illuminated his filthy clothes, his grimy arms and face. There were blood stains scattered along his pants and shirt. His hair was a mess. But it wasn’t until I was a few steps away from him that I could catalog the effects of the horrors he’d witnessed. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. His broad shoulders were slumped forward from exhaustion. Broken and drained, he’d come home, probably hoping to erase the strains of the day in my arms and instead Olivier had found me gone. I’d done exactly what I’d promised him I’d never do, I’d disappeared.
I extricated myself from Wesley and gave him a look that told him to go into the house. When I heard the door shut, I took a step towards Olivier intending to tell him what had happened. But he stepped away from me. “Olivier? I’m sor…”
He started shaking and I grew worried as a result. “I left you to protect your friend, our students. This entire day I’ve regretted that decision, sick that even if you remained safe you’d be beside yourself with worry. The hours ticked by and you didn’t answer any of my texts. I’d convinced myself that I was coming home to find you stolen from me.”
He had no idea how close I’d been to having that possibly happen. “Olivier, let’s go inside. We can talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. The whelp has to get back to Abigail, but Tristan is staying here with Paige for the night. I’m leaving. It’s evident you don’t need me tonight.” Olivier spun on his heel and headed towards his car. My face stung as if I’d been slapped and it felt as if every organ had taken up residence in my throat.
When I heard the engine rumble to life I darted into the street. He wouldn’t run me over, would he? Nope. Olivier slammed on the brake and put the car in park before leaping from it. Finally, he came close enough to where I could touch him. I reached out but he yanked himself away as if I was a deadly viper. “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to stand there and look broken, Charlotte. I’m trying very hard not to yell at you, not to make a scene. I’m trying to remember that I signed on to sharing you.” He turned his face to the stars. The tears streaming down his cheeks glistened in the light and acted as a knife to my heart. “I know that between the two I have the better deal,” Olivier finally admitted barely above a whisper. “I have you most days and get you every night. But I needed you this night. I needed to
see your face when I got back.”
Knowing it would anger him, at me, at the exiles, I again planned to explain. I intended to tell Olivier it wasn’t what he thought. I didn’t get the chance before he got back in his car and darted around me before speeding down the street.
Chapter 8
It was the first morning I’d woken up in my bedroom in months. After Olivier had left, I’d gone inside and packed up my bags. Paige and Tristan tried multiple times to stop me from leaving but it was Wesley who was supportive. “You two need your home while we’re here. She needs to stop feeling like such a burden.”
“Shut up, Wesley!” Paige snapped. “Charlotte, now is not the time for you to isolate yourself again because your feel conflicted or guilty. You’re not a burden, you know that! At least wait until tomorrow, I can get you a patrolman then.”
In the end, Wesley drove me home. I made everyone promise to leave Olivier alone and give him the space he needed. Paige tried multiple times to give me her spare gun, even tried sneaking it into my bag but I refused to be in charge of it again. When we walked into the house, the new alarm sounded. I’d forgotten it’d been installed and armed that day. After calling the company they walked me through how to deactivate it, change my passwords and pin codes, and put it in night mode. I wondered if Olivier had done the same thing.
Wesley tried to stay for a bit but I kicked him out once the alarm was taken care of. It was already pushing midnight and he needed to get back to Abigail. I practically choked on the reality of that. When he left I took a shower but hesitated when getting dressed for bed. The button shirt Wesley had given me after Christmas last year was folded at the top of the drawer holding my pajamas. I put it on, baffled that it still smelled like him, even after several washes. Truthfully it was probably just a strong sense memory.