“Ah, not that I know of,” I reply even though I’m rooting for the Savage Kings to get to those bastards first. That way Tessa will know for sure that they will never hurt her again. They’ll be dead with no chance of appeals or parole.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll let us know if and when they’re caught,” Steven says. “For now, we better get on the road and get home.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again. “I wish…I wish this never happened.”
“Yeah, so do I!” Paul yells. “And it wouldn’t have if you hadn’t brought her to this goddamn town!”
As soon as he puts all the blame squarely on my shoulders, he storms over and picks up his luggage before walking out the door, letting the screen slam behind him.
“He doesn’t mean that,” Steven tells me after he’s gone.
“Sure he does. It’s my fault. I agree.”
“No, it’s not, Charlotte. Paul is just looking for someone to be angry with, and you were standing right in front of him.”
“I never meant for this to happen,” I say as my chin trembles.
“I know. He knows that,” Steven says when he wraps his arms around me in a hug. “Take care of yourself, okay? I know you’ll look after Tessa, but someone needs to look after you too.”
I nod my agreement before he pulls away. “Someone will,” I assure him, because I have no doubt that Roman will be there for me.
Roman
* * *
I head home earlier than usual in the afternoon, eager to see Charlotte, who I know will be waiting for me. I can’t wait to see her after being away from her all day. I missed her. It’s ridiculous but true. And while the circumstances for why she’s staying in town aren’t great and I wouldn’t wish them on my worst enemy, I’m still glad she’s here.
After years of watching her from afar, checking up on her surreptitiously, I’m finally able to get a chance to talk to her as much as I want and to see her up close. To kiss her and touch her.
I park my bike in the garage next to Charlotte’s car, then close the doors before I go over to try the doorknob that leads into the house to see if she remembered to lock up when she got home. She did, which is a relief. I live in one of the wealthiest, safest neighborhoods in town; but after what happened to Tessa and the other girls, nowhere feels entirely secure.
“Hey, it’s me!” I call out as I take the steps up to the kitchen so that I don’t sneak up and scare her, even though she probably heard the garage door open and my bike rumbling inside.
“Hey,” Charlotte says in greeting from where she’s sitting in one of the chairs at the dining table, working on a bottle of wine with the glass to her lips.
“Rough day?” I ask before grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge and taking it over to join her at the table.
“You have no idea,” she mutters before refilling her glass when I take a seat across from her.
“Tessa okay?”
“Tessa is…adamant that she’s not only calling off her wedding but that she doesn’t want to be with Paul.”
“Wow,” I mutter while taking a sip of beer. I may have only talked to the little rich dude a few times, but it was obvious he loved Tessa and was worried sick for her.
“And I was the lucky soul who had to break the news to him,” Charlotte adds. “I’m not upset with Tessa for putting me in that position. I would do anything she asked of me, literally anything. It’s just…Paul was devastated. And he had questions that I couldn’t give him an explanation to. Or hope. I had no hope to give him that Tessa will one day change her mind.”
“Do you think she will one day change her mind?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Charlotte replies between sips of her wine. Actually, I think gulps would be a more accurate description of how she’s chugging the liquid down. “What if she doesn’t change her mind and she never gets her happily ever after because of what happened?”
“That would be awful,” I agree. “And while I don’t know Tessa very well, I get the feeling she’s a tough girl who can overcome this with time. Hopefully.”
“Hopefully,” Charlotte agrees. “But what if she doesn’t?”
“Let’s not go down the pessimistic road just yet,” I suggest. “What do you say I fire up the hot tub and we try to soak away some of your worries?”
“I can’t. I can’t relax with you half naked in a tub or stop worrying!” she says through a few hiccups that tell me she’s three sheets to the wind.
“Why can’t you?” I ask.
“Because it’s not fair! Life is not fair. And that’s not…that’s not…” Now she’s crying.
“Fair?” I offer.
“That’s the one,” she agrees with an emphatic nod before pouring the last of the wine in her glass down her throat. When she goes to refill it again, I jump up and take the bottle from her hand gently. It’s nearly empty and that’s not a pessimist view, it’s just the truth, not much more than three sips remaining.
“What are you doing? Give me back my wine!”
“I think you’ve had enough for tonight. If you don’t stop now, you’re gonna have a horrible hangover and not feel like going to see Tessa tomorrow. And that will only make you more depressed.”
“True. Very true. Sometimes…you’re a very wise man, Roman.”
“Well, I try,” I joke. After throwing the bottle away, I go and sit back down at the table where Charlotte now has her head resting on her arms.
“I’m exhausted,” she mutters. “But I don’t need sleep. I’m just…mentally exhausted.”
“Come on, let’s go sit in some warm bubbly water…” I tell her when I go over and ease her out of her seat by her elbow.
“You’ve got bubbly?” she asks.
“Bubbly water.”
When I guide her out of the sliding glass door to the wooden deck, she sees the hot tub and says, “I didn’t bring a bathing suit because it’s April. Who wears a bathing suit in April?”
“There’s no one around to see us, so I think we’re safe to go in wearing just our underwear.”
“If you say so,” Charlotte agrees quicker than I expected. A second later, she’s pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it across the deck and then shoving her jeans down her legs.
“Oh, this feels so good,” she says as she sinks down into the water. “Just what I needed.”
“Good. I thought so. It helps you wind down after a stressful day,” I tell her as I remove my cut and hang it over one of the patio chairs. Reaching behind my back, I pull my tee up and off, then start to work on undoing my jeans. When they and my shoes are gone, I look up and find Charlotte is staring at me with her lips parted, her cheeks red from the warm water and probably all the wine she drank.
“You feeling okay?” I ask her.
“Sure,” she replies, barely blinking. When I start to climb over into the tub, she asks, “Why don’t you take your boxer briefs off too?”