Running a hand through her hair, she followed Sean’s path out the back door and hopped off the porch. She was heading for the shed—the old workshop.
A brief struggle ensued as she attempted to slide open the heavy wooden door. Inside felt more like a museum than a workshop. Nothing looked like it had been touched since her dad passed away. Beneath a giant drop cloth sat the old truck their dad had used to teach Sean to drive standard. Charlotte flicked the switch for the solitary overhead light bulb, and was surprised when a hum of strained electricity filled the room.
Nearest to the door was the old work desk. Every inch of it was covered in a thick layer of sawdust and regular dust. The wall above the desktop was covered entirely with faded photographs off an old disposable camera, discoloured and curling at the edges from a lifetime in a shed that was less than weatherproof. The photos were all combinations of her family with Max and Sophie’s families. There was one of her (princess), Sophie (Raggedy Ann), Max (pirate), and Sean (zombie) on Halloween approximately a million years ago. Sean teaching her to ride a bike when she was seven and he was nine. Sophie’s parents and Charlotte’s dad at a barbecue in their backyard, not far from where Charlotte stood now. Sean and Max, twelve and ten, hanging upside down backwards off a sofa and watching TV. Sophie taking a one-handed selfie with Sean in the background. Sophie had always loved to take pictures, would force you to line up and pose for any minor event or celebration until she got one that was perfect. Charlotte stared at the photo, frowning. Sophie was an only child but spent so much time over at their place it sometimes seemed like there were three Romer siblings.
Sean was lying. But why? Charlotte knew there was no secret money from their dad. There couldn’t be.
Toward the bottom of the wall, almost hidden from view by a soup can filled with screwdrivers, was a picture of her mom and dad. They weren’t much older than Sean was now. They were standing on the beach, a huge smile on her mom’s face. Charlotte reflected that she really did look like her mom. Must be the hair. Her dad looked younger, scruffier, and healthier than she had ever seen him, particularly in the last months of his life.
Beside their dad, a two-year-old Sean clutched his father’s hand and waved to the camera. Charlotte’s mother had both hands resting on her protruding belly, and Charlotte knew that it wouldn’t be long before she was added to the family.
She also realized that it wouldn’t be long before her mom left them for good.
People often said that Charlotte reminded them of her mother. She knew that they looked alike, that they talked in the same cadence, and curled cursive letters the same way. But Charlotte didn’t like cherries and her dad ate them like candy so Charlotte had always wondered where she got that from.
Charlotte studied her father’s content expression in the beach photograph. She wondered how much he’d hated her mom for leaving. How do you forgive someone you love for completely abandoning you?
Charlotte was gripped with the thought that perhaps she had more in common with her mother than she thought.
No, she steadied herself. No. She, at least, had come back.
eleven
It was four days later and she and Sean had barely spoken. Sean had asked her to pass the Wheat Thins once (a nutritious dinner) but she’d tossed them with a little more force than necessary and dumped the entire box in his lap. That was the end of that conversation. Since they had no more Wheat Thins and she didn’t want to ask Sean for money to order pizza, she settled on walking to the Quik Mart. A slushie and chocolate bar would do her. Plus, she could get out of the house for a while and talk to Leo. She’d texted Sophie, but didn’t get a response. Charlotte didn’t really blame her.
It was dark by the time she got to the store. When she stepped inside, the first thing she saw was Max buying cigarettes at the counter. Both he and Leo looked up at her as she entered. With a jolt, she remembered her conversation with Sophie and found herself trying to picture Max as dad to a tiny baby who was a mix of him and Sophie. And Max didn’t even know. Her stomach stirred with unease but she wasn’t sure if it was because she pitied Max or felt guilty because she knew and he didn’t.
“Hey!” Leo smiled brightly and waved.
Scowling, Max snatched his cigarettes and placed one between his teeth. “God. I hate small towns.”
Even though Leo frowned at Max’s comment, Charlotte was sure he had been filled in on what a shitty person Max thought she was.
“He’s just trying to flirt, Charlotte,” Leo said loudly. Max shot him a look.
“Hey, Leo.” She sent him a polite smile before backing up out of the store, returning the way she’d come. “Sorry, forgot my wallet.” She wasn’t really up to another fight with Max.
Someone followed her out of the store. “Hey!”
She spun around, intending on telling Max to kindly screw off, thank you very much, but it was not Max who had stumbled out behind her.
“I thought that was you.” The boy caught up to her as she rounded the corner of the building. It was considerably darker out of sight from giant, well-lit windows. Nick Sutter—the same age, make, and model as her brother, but lacking Sean’s decency.
Charlotte felt her breath catch in her throat but immediately swallowed it.
“Nick,” she said quietly. The name tasted bitter in her mouth.
“I heard you were back in town.”
“Sean’s waiting up for me,” was all Charlotte managed.
Nick gave a low chuckle. He reached out and took her chin in his fingers. “Aw, maybe you should tell him you’ll be home late—”
“Don’t touch me,” she spat, shoving his hand away. Her eyes darted around the deserted parking lot. Of course there was nobody around.
“Hey, hey.” Nick put his hands up. “You know I’m just playing with you.”
“Stay away from me,” she said. She had to stop herself from adding “please.” Her manners came out in times of sheer panic and desperation. “Don’t forget, I was there. I saw what you did.”
“I really hope that wasn’t supposed to be a threat,” Nick hissed, the words sliding out through gritted teeth.
Before she could react, he twisted his hand around her wrist and yanked her towards him. Charlotte cried out in protest,
using her free hand as her only protection. He tried to stop her, grabbing her arms roughly and pinning them to her sides, but she squirmed and slipped an arm free. She swung her fist around, aiming blindly for his face. Nick growled when her knuckles connected with his cheekbone and shoved her hard, sending her sprawling on the sidewalk. Pain cracked through her wrists and at her knees where she slammed unevenly against the concrete.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Charlotte’s head snapped up. Max, holding a bag of Doritos, glanced between the two of them.
“Nothing,” Nick muttered, straightening up. “None of your business.”
“Get away from her.”
From her place on the ground, Charlotte could see Nick slowly moving his left hand to his back pocket. God knew what he had on him. This could be bad. She felt like she was on fire. Her blood pulsed with the heat of anxiety and adrenaline.
“Max, please,” she said, “come on, let’s just go.”
Max looked like he had forgotten she was there. Nick seemed to have weighed his options and took the momentary distraction to slink around the corner, out of sight. Watching him leave allowed Charlotte to try to breathe for the first time since she’d left the Quik Mart.
Max appeared at her side, kneeling down on the pavement. “Christ, what—are you hurt?”
“Don’t, no, stop.” She shook her head frantically, squeezing her eyes tightly together. She could still feel Nick’s hand around her wrist, could feel him near her. She couldn’t catch her breath and the earth was spinning and she thought she was going to be sick.
No.
She took a deep breath, forcing air into her lungs. She allowed herself ten seconds. Ten seconds to break and put everything back together again. She thought of her favourite song and the way the sea looked in the sunlight and the mornings when she woke up and everything was dewy and fog hung in the air. Her ten seconds were up.
“Charlie,” Max tried again, “you have to tell me if you’re hurt.”
“I’m okay,” she managed to say.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.”
Carefully, he helped her to her feet.
“You have to let me take you to the clinic.”
“No.” Sean would lose it if he found out. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just a few scrapes.”
She let the wall behind her support her weight. Deep breaths. She could feel Max’s eyes on her, standing a few steps away.
“You’re bleeding.”
Charlotte glanced down. He was right. Her palms and knees were cut up from when she’d fallen. “Yeah, I….”
“No.” Max took a step toward her. He reached out and gently placed his hand alongside her cheek. “Here. You’re bleeding.”
Her hand rose to her face, feeling the split skin his hand was nearly covering. She withdrew it. There were smudges of blood on her fingertips. She must have done a face-plant when Nick knocked her down.
Max moved closer. “What…was that,” his voice didn’t go up at the end. It wasn’t a question.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
Max pulled his hand back from her face. “Yes, that would have been my exact thoughts when I read the paper tomorrow under the headline: Local Girl Murdered Outside Convenience Store.”
She matched his hard stare. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that we’re not friends,” she said coolly. “What do you want me to say?”
“Um, something along the lines of ‘gee, thanks for saving my skin, Max.’”
Charlotte glared at him. “You want my gratitude?”
“No, I want an explanation. That guy could have hurt you, Charlotte. Bad. That was not random. That was not nothing.”
Charlotte closed her eyes and rubbed at the back of her neck. She wasn’t really inclined to admit that Max had probably just saved her from being a lot worse off than she was. Was she ungrateful? No. Was she too proud to admit that? Absolutely.
“Charlie?”
“I just want to go home,” she said quietly, her voice even.
“Charlotte—”
“I’m fine,” she snapped. She wondered if she’d ever uttered the damn phrase and actually meant it. Charlotte pushed away from the wall. Her right knee shuddered at the movement.
“Shit.” Max’s hand shot out to hold her side.
Her heartbeat quickened when she was reminded of Nick groping her. She squirmed away. “I’m okay, let go of me—”
He immediately stepped back from her, dropping his hands, probably seeing the panic in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help.”
“I know, I know.” Charlotte buried her face in her hands, focusing on breathing. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Just…take a second, all right?” Max said quietly. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
She nodded. “I know.”
He was quiet for a moment, and then: “What can I do?”
“Nothing. I just want to go home.”
She wandered away from the deserted parking lot, and knew Max was trailing behind. He caught up to her in a few strides, and they fell into a silent step along the side of the road. She wiped at her eyes and focused on keeping her breathing steady. River John was a town of a few hundred people. Charlotte had always known she would encounter Nick at some point—once school ended and she didn’t have anywhere to hide. She just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. She hadn’t anticipated how quickly the anxiety and fear could come racing back, infecting every inch of her. She didn’t want to be scared. If she was scared, then she felt like everything had been for nothing. Then Nick won.
Her feet were moving independently, her mind moving faster than she could. In a matter of moments, in a chance encounter outside a gas station, Nick was back in her life.
Max took her wrist gently and she realized she had walked past her own driveway.
“Right.” She shook her head. She faced the narrow lane for a moment before starting down it. He followed all the way to her front door, where she watched him stop himself from stepping across the threshold.
“Are you okay?” he asked for what felt like the millionth time as she stepped inside. “To be alone?”
Charlotte sucked in a breath through her teeth. Sean had gone out earlier; it was unlikely he was home or would be coming back at all. She wasn’t sure of the answer to Max’s question. “Um…it doesn’t matter, I think I’ll just go to bed—”
“It does matter. It doesn’t have to be me but….” He shrugged. “You should talk to someone. Keeping things to yourself will eat you alive. Believe me.”
Charlotte pressed her palms together, making the cuts sting. She stared down at them, tears pricking at the backs of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She hadn’t cried about what happened with Nick in a very long time. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“Tell me. I’ll never bring it up again. What did he do to you?”
A light laugh escaped her lips. The answer to that was simple. It was everything that came after that was complicated. She’d spent the last year trying to keep what had happened a secret. To protect Sean. To protect herself. Tell him! a part of her was screaming. Tell him why you left and hurt everyone you loved and ruined your life. But Charlotte knew if she told him, then it would be real.
“Charlie,” he said softly. “You can trust me.”
It wasn’t that. She trusted Max, she just didn’t know if she trusted herself not to drown again.
“You have people who care about you, you know that right?” Max said.
For them, she’d have to swim. She took a shaky breath.
“Nick is…why I left a year ago.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “What?”
Charlotte sighed. “Come in, it’s kind of a long story.”
She turned and headed down the hallway and almost regretted her decision when she heard the front door shut behind him.
She slid into the tiny bathroom and waited for him to appear behind her.
Lay down some ground rules. Set some boundaries. Retain something close to control.
“I’ll tell you everything,” she said to his reflection in the mirror above the sink, “but you have to promise not to say anything until I’m completely finished. All right?”
Charlotte took several deep breaths and opened the medicine cabinet. She reached for what she was looking for. The small tube of antibiotic cream slipped through her fingers into the basin of the sink.
“Let me,” he said, his hand at her waist, thumb parallel with her spine. Max guided her into sitting on the edge of the tub and knelt down in front of her.
“Okay.” Charlotte lined up her feet with the edge of the tile. “Last year, like, two weeks before the accident, I got in a huge fight with Sean. I was so sick of him being out all night and never being home and getting into trouble and I just lost it.”
It had been like any of their fights. Always the same. When Sean left, he let the screen door slam and the whole house shook behind him. She didn’t know how long she had stood at the sink, seething.
Max was using a facecloth to gently clean her knee. His expression was blank.
“One night,” Charlotte continued, “it was past three and I went out looking for him. I found him at the Quik Mart, drinking out back with Nick. They were messing around with some guy who was with them. It got rough, the guy was pissed, Nick was drunk.”
She could see herself t
ucked against the wall, peeking around the corner at her brother and two others. The dark helped, kept all four of them shadowed. One shoved the other. She watched Sean jump out of the way. Nick wound his fist back and he and the other boy collided. Charlotte slammed her eyes shut but wasn’t quick enough to block out the sound of his head hitting the pavement.
“That was the guy they found dead there last summer,” Max finished for her. He swiped some of the antibiotic cream across the mark before peeling the wrapping off of a Band-Aid and pressing it to her knee. “He was only young. Sean knew him?”
She didn’t know his name. As she stared at him on the concrete, she didn’t realize she had given herself away. When she’d looked up, Nick was staring at her, trying to place who she was. Everything was different after that.
“They had met. I think he ran in the same circles as Nick.” She nodded. “And then Nick spotted me. I took off, ran home. When Sean got back he told me he’d tried to convince Nick I hadn’t seen anything. But Nick couldn’t afford to have witnesses. His record is worse than Sean’s.” Charlotte sighed. “It was stupid of me. I should have gone straight to the police.
“But Sean told me he would take care of it. And then school started, and then that weekend was the car rally. And what happened with Nick wasn’t important anymore. The only thing that mattered was Sophie.” Charlotte felt like she was talking about something that had happened to someone else. She was staring at the same spot on the floor, going through the facts in order like they were a grocery list. She didn’t feel anything as the words left her. “One night I was walking home from the Quik Mart or whatever, and…well, Nick was waiting for me at the end of the driveway.”
Charlotte could still feel Nick’s tight grip on her arm, pulling her down. Headphones ripped out of her ears in the struggle and her phone knocked to the ground.
Max had moved up to cleaning her hands, and paused to search her face. “But, I mean, you—you’re fine, right? Nothing happened, nothing happened to you—”
Nick had his hood covering his face but she had known exactly who he was. Knew what he wanted. She saw the glint of something silver in the streetlight.
The Last Time I Saw Her Page 9