Charlie's Whiskey

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Charlie's Whiskey Page 10

by Harlow Brown


  "You'll know it when you see it. Do you understand me?"

  "Jesus Christ, yes. I'm sorry I even asked you. No need to turn into super douche on me."

  "Babes." He put his hands on my shoulders. I made myself okay with it for as long as I could. "When I get that look, I don’t know what happens. I black out, and I don't want you to get in the middle of anything. I'm just trying to look out for you."

  I took it as long as I could and then ducked from his contact. "Yes, I get it. Thank you. I'm sorry I spazzed out on you."

  Knock, knock, knock. "Charlie, I know you’re in there! Come here, baby. I just want to talk."

  Knock, knock

  I took a deep breath and grabbed Whiskey's hand, pulling him down the hall. Once we reached the door, I realized I had his hand and dropped it like it was a hot rock. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

  "Shh. It's okay, babes. I'll be right here if you need me. We'll deal with Hensley together. Promise."

  CHARLIE STOOD BESIDE me as I opened the front door. That son of a bitch’s face was a beautiful shade of purple. And I might say it looked good on him.

  He glared at me, hatred seeping out of his pores. "You want to leave us alone?"

  I knew the answer but had to make a point that it was totally up to Charlie, so I looked at her and let her answer.

  "It'll be a fucking cold day in hell before I'm ever alone with you again. You need to say something? Say it in front of Whiskey."

  "Why, Char? So he can pound my face more? I just want to talk. I want to—"

  "You want? I don't give a good goddamn what you want. It's not about you anymore, fuckstick. It's about me now and I." She walked closer to him. "Don't." Closer yet. "Want." She stood right in front of him. As tight as she could get her little fist, she clenched it and knocked the wind out of him, using his stomach as a punching bag. Before he knew what hit him, she clocked the silly bastard in the side of the head with her right fist. "You!"

  She let him reorient himself so he could see her walk to me.

  That's right. She chose me, and she did it all on her own. I knew it didn't mean to her what it meant to me, but I didn't care. It was a step, and I'd take it and cherish it.

  "Char, don't you want to know what I have to say?" he pled.

  "If I listen, will you leave?" Clearly some of her wit was back.

  "What's it going to take to get you to see that I know I fucked up? That I'm sorry and I'm trying to fix it?"

  "I'll tell you what it’ll take, Hensley. It's going to take you leaving me alone… forever. Do you want to prove your love for me? Prove it by letting me go." She stepped closer to him and out of my reach, cupped his cheek, and said, "Let me go, Hensley."

  "I can't, Char. I just can't. You don't know what you got till it's gone, right? Well, now I see. It’s sucked without you there with me."

  She didn't let him get any farther in that line of shit. "What? You miss your nightly workout on me? Which one do you miss more, your naked cardio or the punching bag routine?"

  Now I was pissed the fuck off. He had no idea the things I could do to him for putting her through that. A smirk took over his face, and we could see the memories flash in his eyes. I was trying to see hers, finding what I feared yet longed for in a sick twisted way. They were solid gray.

  That was my cue to intervene. She didn't need this shit on top of whatever else he had already dealt her. I lightly touched her arm and she looked at me, looked so deeply into my eyes that I knew she understood what I was trying to convey to her without using words. And it couldn't have happened at a more perfect time, right in front of that bastard. He saw the unspoken words that transpired between us, and I knew he had to feel that rejection deep to his core. She spoke to me with her eyes and silently told me she was going to wrap it up.

  "Hensley." She turned to face him. "I'm tired. I'm tired of lying, tired of trying, tired of pretending to be something we aren't. I'm done. I'm done with you, I'm done with us, and I'm even done telling you how done I am."

  "Well, I'm not done. I'm not done fighting for us." He was clearly grasping at straws. She looked at me, fear and loathing washing over her beautiful face. I guess crazy washed over mine. I remembered a terrified look on her face, and then I remembered Hensley's throat in my hand.

  "I believe the lady said she was done with you. So here’s what’s going to happen." He was turning red and blue, but I only tightened my grip. “You are going to leave and not come back. You aren't going to win her back, so give it up and move on to your next victim. It's not ever going to be Charlie again." I released him with a shove, and he gasped for air. "If you come back, Hensley, I'll kill you. Don't try to challenge me because I have all the means necessary to pull it off and get away scot-free. "

  I turned to check on her; she was shaken up but otherwise fine. I shifted back to him. "On second thought, I'll make sure that Charlie is good and pissed off, and then I'll let her get in a few licks with a bat. Yeah, that sounds better."

  He shot me a go to hell look, then said to Charlie, "Bye for now, sweets."

  Tears started rolling down her face and I held her, hoping that fucker was watching. As she laid her head on my chest, we heard him say, "You'll go to white trash like him but won't come home with me?"

  I barely caught a glimpse of her face as she backed out of my embrace. "He is not white trash. He has done more for me in two days than you did in three years. And it's no concern of yours who I run to anymore. So what if I chose a biker? The clean-cut, all-American preppy bitch didn't work out well for me, so this go-round I'm going to try a real badass. I damn sure don't want another pussy like you again. If I went back home with you, I might as well go carpet cruisin'. I'm done with you. Go away, and don't ever come back."

  Is this chick for real? It's a sweet gesture, but what she doesn't know yet is I am everything he said. I'm nothing but pure white trash.

  Hensley hesitantly turned to leave, and Charlie came back to me. I held her and she didn't freak out… yet. I knew it wasn't going to last long, but I sure as fuck was enjoying it while it lasted.

  WHY DOES HE FEEL so safe? He screams bad boy and danger, but he feels like home, like I need to be all cuddled up in his massive arms.

  No. I can't let myself be so needy and weak. I can't enjoy the embrace of another man. I don't deserve it. He’ll only hurt me in the end.

  I pulled out of his embrace. As much as I hated to, I knew it was necessary.

  "Come on. Let's go get those tires, yeah?" I needed a break from Rudy, figured a couple extra days on the beach before the tournament would do me some good. I only had to get Whiskey on board, seeing as he was going to be my shadow.

  "Sure, can I finish getting dressed now? Or do I need to show my ink and muscles to the guys at the tire shop too?" He was trying to lighten the mood a little. And I had to give it to him; that was funny. Such a smartass.

  I seared the sexy-as-fuck image that stood in front of me to my brain and replied, "Yeah, go on. You and all your bumps are making me jealous."

  "Jealous of what?" Apparently, I’ve thrown the man for a loop. "Don't tell me you want to be all muscled up."

  "Nah, not like you. That's too much for a chick. I just want to have a six-pack and definition in my arms and legs. "

  "I can help you with that."

  "I'm no good for anyone right now. Shit like what just happened will happen a lot. Hensley's obviously batshit crazy, and I don't want you any more involved than you already are. But…." I stopped talking and thought about what I wanted to say, whether or not it was a good idea. I wanted to tell him that I'd like nothing more than to have him help me. I wanted him to know that I thought it would be fun to have a buddy to work out with, but I didn’t want him any deeper in the drama than he already was.

  "But what, Charlie?"

  Shit. Do I tell him? Do I go out on a limb and risk letting him a little closer to me?

  I decided to go for it. What was it going to hurt if he worked out with me?
Worst-case he’d see me sweaty and gross, and I’d have to look at him shirtless and sweaty too. Damn the bad luck.

  "But I think it would be nice to work out together. You have to promise not to laugh, though. I'm sort of a weakling."

  "We all have to start somewhere, babes. I won't laugh." He smiled at me and then touched my shoulders gently. "And that fucker ain't half as crazy as I can be. Don't worry about me getting involved. I already am. I chose to be. I got this, babes. And I've got you. We'll get through this, I swear. Now I'm going to get dressed, and then we can go. I apparently have a lunch to buy you."

  Later that night, Briar and Jazz fixed dinner and we all ate together. I kept my distance from Whiskey, had to try to keep him out. If he found out about the very thing I sought to forget daily, he'd surely tell the other two, and that wasn’t something I could risk. I’d lose my best friend for sure.

  Things were already awkward around the table. Jazz felt it too; I saw the way she kept looking at me, then over to Whiskey. I had enough of it, so I cleared my plate and took the dishes to the sink. On my way back from the kitchen, I said, "I'm going to pack for Florida. Whiskey and I talked and decided that a few days on the beach to unwind before the tournament would be a good break from… this." I waved my hand around, indicating everything there. "Briar, thank you for dinner. It was great as always. Jazz, I love you. Come see me before bed, yeah?"

  "Yes, Charlie, I'll come see you before bed. When are you two leaving?" she asked.

  I looked at Whiskey, hoping he would step in. Obviously, he didn't get the hint, as he didn't even look up from his plate. So I did what any confused and irritated girl would do—I threw him under the bus, knowing Briar still wasn't totally cool with Whiskey being around me yet.

  "We thought about leaving tomorrow morning, right, Whiskey?"

  Mission accomplished. He’s looking up now.

  Briar shot daggers at Whiskey. "When exactly did you plan on telling me that you were going to take her away for over a week?"

  "Well, Daddy, we only just discussed it today, and I thought about telling you after dinner. What the fuck is the big deal?"

  "Don't be dense, Whiskey." Damn, Jazz was pissed too.

  Now I felt bad. "Jazz, he isn't kidding. We only decided today. I really need to get away. And you know I'm a sun baby and could use a little Vitamin D therapy on the beach."

  I looked at Briar, needing to put a stop to this crazy protective thing he had as far as Whiskey was concerned. "Briar, you were obviously okay with him helping me or you wouldn't have agreed to all this in the first place. I trust that he won't let anything bad happen to me. You, Daddy-o, need to chill the fuck out. Besides, without me here you can… oh, I don't know, get laid or something. Lord knows you need it ’cause you’re cranky as fuck."

  Laughter rang out from everyone, including Briar. "Maybe he isn't so bad. Since he’s been around, the old Charlie girl is making more of an appearance, and I like the hell out of that. I've missed that girl."

  Whiskey just nodded, realizing that was Briar's way of giving his blessing.

  "I love you too, Briar, but seriously, you and Jazz have had a lot to deal with the last couple days. You need a break from me and all that comes with me. We’ll leave in the morning. I'll call often if that will make you feel better. Besides, I don't know if you’ve noticed my legs lately or not, but they’re…."

  Then it dawned on me that they were pasty white mixed with lovely shades of blue, purple, green, and yellow.

  Fuck me. I can't lie around on a beach in a bathing suit. Damn him! He’s managed to take my sunshine—literally.

  My face must have fallen because Whiskey came to me and lifted my chin so I had to look at him. "I have some connections in Florida. Briar and I have a charter in Destin. I’ll see if the house we own is rented out for the next couple weeks. Hell, even if it is they can—and will—change it for a brother. No worries, babes. It has a private beach, and if that isn't what you want, then you can have the big deck on the back of the house."

  "You'd do that for me?"

  "Of course. No one needs to know your business and start asking you questions. And honestly, babes, you’re going to be there with me, so I’d look like the asshole biker who beats his old lady."

  Point well taken. "Thank you," I whispered.

  "I'll call in a minute. Go get your bags ready."

  BRIAR STOOD IN silence as I turned back to the table. His face was priceless. "What the fuck happened to you in Texas?"

  "Not talking about that, not now. Now is about Charlie. I'll be back. I'm going to call Magnum and check on the beach house."

  "How close is the beach house to the ballpark?"

  "Roughly forty miles. Why?"

  "You going to drive her an extra hour early just to get her there on time? Seems extreme."

  "It's not extreme, and I'd do anything for her." I turned away so he couldn't see in my eyes what I felt in my heart. At that moment, with those words spoken out loud to a brother, I knew that Charlie would break me. She was going to find out about Angie and the baby and tell me to go to hell. I only hoped that she would find it in her heart to not hate me.

  "Magnum. Hey, man. What's up?"

  "Whiskey? How the hell are you, man? You still down in Texas?"

  "Nah, had to get out of there. I'm back home now in Arkansas."

  "What the fuck is in Arkansas? Shit, that has to be boring."

  "It's not what is here. It's who and what isn't here."

  "Dude, you all right? You sound off."

  "I'm all right. I have a favor, though. I need the beach house for a couple weeks."

  "I think the people who rented it are leaving tomorrow, and the next ones had to cancel or some shit, so it should be okay. What the hell you need it that long for?"

  "Long story, but I have a friend… well, she’s a really good friend of Briar's and his old lady. She’s going through some real bad shit and she’s playing softball in Panama City Beach. If we could stay at Casa de Chosen One, it would save her on a hotel and shit too."

  "Shacking up with a lil' hottie, huh?"

  "Not like that. This one isn't anything like everyone else. I'm helping save this one. She’s in some serious shit and just needs to get away."

  "Damn, does she know about us? About you?"

  "She knows I'm a member, like Briar, but she doesn't know how we make money. We only met a couple days ago, so she doesn't know a whole lot about me yet. But we’ll have a couple weeks to figure stuff out."

  "Whiskey, you don't figure anything out. You fuck ’em and make them want you. What the fuck are you talking about?"

  "Charlie isn't like anything I'm used to. She’s broken, and she needs a man to show her how life is supposed to be, that it's not meant to be like it has been for her the last three years. I need her to heal."

  Well, son of a bitch. I had said more than I intended to. "Magnum, don't repeat that."

  "You know the deal, Whiskey. It's a clubhouse. Club has a right to know who and what is going on while on premises."

  "Fuck." I thought for a second and decided to tell him. I could trust this dude with my life, so I could sure as shit trust Charlie's story to him. So I proceeded to tell him every gory, fucked-up detail I knew. "Now do you see why I want her away from here as soon as possible?"

  "Yeah, dude. That’s fucked up. Wait a minute… you mean to tell me that you aren't in a relationship of any kind with this chick? Is she crazy, or ugly? What the hell is wrong with her? The Whiskey I knew didn't help any chick unless it was out of clothes and into bed."

  "I can't explain our situation. And hell no, motherfucker. Charlie is fine as hell, and she doesn't have a problem, other than her fucked-up ex."

  "What you want to do about him?"

  "Not sure yet. Charlie wants blood, but I'm not sure she understands the consequences. There’s no way she can fully understand what taking a life will do to her mentally. "

  "Do you think you’ll need the boys? Do
we need to step in and make this asshole disappear?"

  "No, not yet. But if he touches her again, he's shark bait. I'll let you know. Can we please act like this conversation never happened? I don't want her to find out I told you. I’ll tell her that she has to give you the gist of what’s going on, just for the club’s safety. I'll explain that we have to know every possible scenario so we can protect her better, and our operation. She’ll be fine, I think. I just told you so you’d know that I need this for her."

  "I don't know a thing. As far as I’m aware, y'all are fucking like rabbits and she’s as wild as you are."

  "Was."

  "You getting soft, are ya?"

  "No, asshole, I'm not getting soft. I’ll still fuck you up. I just don't need the drama anymore. Chasing tail just gets old, man."

  "So when are you planning on being here?"

  "Saturday morning, I guess."

  "Cool, see you in a couple days. And I can't wait to meet this chick. She has to have some power over you, especially for you to bring her here. You really should clue her in on the club. I can't imagine Briar’s told her seeing as he isn't a Destin member. Let's see what this chick is made of. Can she run with the big dogs?"

  "I'm telling you right now, that girl can handle anything you throw her way. I'd bet on it. I also bet she’s tired of living a straight-and-narrow life. You want me to feel her out and see if she’d be interested in helping us?"

  "Careful, man. Don't fuck us over because you have to save a damsel in distress. Remember: 'Once in, Always First.'"

  "Yeah, I know. See you Saturday."

  I hung up the phone and thought about Charlie being an asset to The Chosen Legion. Could she be our own Bandit? It was so crazy that it had to work. She was hot enough to get out of most situations; she’d flash those damn eyes and get off with a warning at most! But putting her in harm’s way and taking that kind of a chance was out of the question.

  So it’s settled. On the way to Destin, I'll come clean about the club and some of my story too. This’ll make us or break us. No middle ground here. She’s either all in or all out.

 

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