“Where’s Charlie?” I jump from the couch, more on edge than before.
“There’s been an acci—”
“Where is she?” I’m already veering for the door.
“At Saint James.”
“How is she? Is she conscious?”
“She’s in surgery. Broke her leg.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thanks for calling me.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Ben.” The line goes silent.
“Asshole.”
I slide behind the wheel and gun the engine. The damn beeping sound reminds me to put my seat belt on.
“Yeah, I hear ya, motherfucker.”
I click the belt in place right before I take a sharp curve, burning rubber. My heart is pumping like a factory, and my hands are already sweaty from holding the steering wheel too tight. I should be mindful of the speed limit, especially since I’ve been drinking tonight, but my need to get to Charlie as fast as I can trumps everything.
A traffic jam makes me lose my mind. No, no, no. I can’t get stuck here. I know if Charlie’s in surgery, it’ll be hours before she’s out, but that doesn’t make me less frantic.
Finally, the line of cars begins to move. I decide to take the next exit and get to the hospital via another route. The highway is usually fast, but apparently not tonight.
Another twenty maddening minutes later, I park my car in the first spot I find and then run like a madman through the parking lot. When I burst through the sliding doors of the hospital, I must be quite the sight since I’m still in full skull makeup.
“I’m looking for Charlie Fontaine,” I tell the receptionist. “She was brought in earlier an—”
“Troy?” Ben calls out.
I turn toward the sound of his voice.
He walks over and, without hesitation, gives me a hug. “I’m glad you came.”
“Thanks for letting me know. Do you know what happened?”
He steps back and wipes the tears from his cheeks. “No. We got the call and rushed here. Mom and Dad talked to the doctors away from me.”
We return to the waiting area, and I find Blake, Fred, and a curly haired brunette I haven’t met yet. Blake glowers at me but keeps his piehole shut. Fred gives me a sympathetic nod, and the girl simply stares at me blankly. I could be a ghost for all she cares. A middle-aged blonde woman with red-rimmed eyes that are filled with anguish walks over. Charlie’s mother, I guess.
“You must be Charlie’s boyfriend,” she says. “Do you know why she was driving to Littleton so late in the night?”
Her tone is accusatory, and I don’t blame her for it. But I can’t tell her why without coming across as the biggest asshole in the world. If I had followed her into the house, I wouldn’t have let her get behind the wheel.
“She was worried about Ben,” I say without elaborating why.
“Why would she be worried about him?”
“Mom, please. It’s not Troy’s fault Charlie got hurt.” Ben jumps to my defense.
Does he already know about the video?
“Is everything okay here?” a male voice asks behind me.
I turn around and lose my ground for the second time tonight. Staring at me is none other than Bill, my mom’s boyfriend.
“Dad, this is Charlie’s boyfriend,” Ben introduces us.
Anger surges within me with the confirmation that Charlie’s father has been unfaithful. I can’t fucking believe it. There’s no trace of recognition in his eyes, and it takes me a second to understand it’s because of my makeup.
“Hi, sir. My name is Troy Alexander,” I reply coldly, wondering if my answer will trigger his memory. I get nothing.
“Oh. Well, I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you, but under these circumstances, I can’t. Do you have any idea what Charlie was doing on the road?” His question doesn’t have an edge like Charlie’s mother’s did. Too bad. If it had, I could have given him an answer with a bark.
“She wanted to see Ben,” I say.
Guilt shines in the man’s eyes, and he doesn’t even remember who I am.
Asshole. But I can’t think about that now.
“How is Charlie?”
“She has a few bruises on her face thanks to the airbag, but the worst injury is her broken leg. Thank heavens,” he replies.
“How long until she’s out of surgery?”
“Another hour,” her mother replies.
“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Charlie’s father asks me, narrowing his eyes.
I know I should lie, but I’m too pissed to do so. In the moment, I want him to know who I am, consequences be damned.
“Yes, we have actually. At a restaurant in Manhattan Beach not too long ago.”
He stares at me blankly for a moment, as if he’s trying to fish out the memory from his brain. Then his eyes go rounder, his face pale. But instead of confirming it, he schools his expression again. “No, it doesn’t ring a bell. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab some coffee in the cafeteria.”
I glower at his retreating back, but after he disappears around the corner, I feel the full impact of my discovery.
Charlie’s father is having an affair with my mother. This will destroy Charlie and Ben.
I’m going to lose her.
44
TROY
I ignore Blake to the best of my ability. I don’t even know why he’s here. Charlie’s condition isn’t life-threatening, and she’s not his girlfriend. As a matter of fact, why was he even called, and who did it?
Charlie is out of surgery now, and her parents and Ben are with her. I wonder if she’ll want to see me. I lean my elbows on my knees, resting my head in my hands. If she tells me to go away, I’m going to lose my mind.
A throat clearing catches my attention.
“Charlie is asking for you,” her father tells me.
Wordlessly, I get up from my chair and follow him down the hallway. When we turn a corner, he stops in his tracks and turns to me.
“You can’t say anything to Charlie.”
“Excuse me?”
“Please. I’m begging you. I’ve decided to end things with Elaine.”
I scoff. “A little too late, don’t you think? The damage is done.”
“No, it isn’t done,” he grits out. “Tara doesn’t know about the affair, and she doesn’t need to.”
“Oh trust me, she knows.”
His face goes even paler than before. He reaches for my arm, gripping it in a tight hold. “Did you already tell her?”
Annoyed, I pull free from his grasp and reply through clenched teeth, “No, I didn’t tell her, but she suspects it. Can we go now? I’d like to see Charlie.”
He steps back, passing a hand over his face. “She’s in room 307.”
It’s clear that he doesn’t intend to walk with me. Whatever. I’d rather not be in his despicable company either.
I continue on alone, and with each step I take, my heart rate accelerates. It’s beating at a staccato rhythm by the time I reach her room. The door is open, and from the threshold, I can see her mother sitting in a chair, looking tired as hell as she rests her head on Ben’s shoulder.