“Was she okay?” she whispers.
I relax back. “No. It’s a long story but she was hurt and I took her back to her family. Ever since, I’ve been trying to start up the self-defence classes again. Now we have more staff, I can concentrate on it more, but we aren’t getting many there, and although I don’t know all their stories, I’ve heard more than one say they were told it was the best fitness class to take. I want to make a difference, not make a woman stay in shape.”
Her grip loosens and she looks up at me. “Because you need a leader.”
“What?”
“You need someone who speaks from experience, who can speak for all of them. That girl, you said it’s Landon’s cousin?”
“Yeah.”
“Then get her to help with those classes. If people see one person in their position going, they’ll follow because they’ll feel safe to.”
“You’re saying they don’t feel safe?”
When she looks at me, my breath stills in my throat. “Because I wouldn’t be able to do it, not unless I knew someone I could trust was in there. And for a lot of victims, they connect better with other people who have been in their shoes, who understand and are patient.”
“I don’t think she’s in the best place,” I admit, mulling it over.
“But you have Landon there and she trusted you enough to take her back to her family. Get to know her, let her warm up to you.”
“I’m not sure trust is something she’s capable of right now. The person who hurt her wasn’t who she thought he was.”
Nora leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. “You might look scary, but you aren’t. She’ll see that.”
“What makes you so sure?” I ask, curious to know.
She tilts her head up. “Because you saved me from myself.”
I kiss her forehead, not saying another word. There isn’t anything else to say. After her attack, she was in a bad place. I gave her an outlet, not only to build up her strength, but to let out her anger. Once she was calm of that anger, we moved on to the next step and together, we worked on her self-defence.
If she kept that anger inside, she would have gone down the wrong path, and Nora is the best of us. She’s kind-hearted, loving, and cares about everything.
“Love you, little sis.”
“Love you too.”
“I’ll let you get back to your, um, letter of apology, but I’ll pop by and see you again soon.”
“Good luck with it all.”
I stand and pop my head through the front door, finding Dad and the guys sat on the sofa, watching a game. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Bye, son.”
I shut the door then wave one last goodbye to Nora before heading back to the car. Getting in, I chuck my phone onto the passenger seat and groan when it slides to the floor. Leaning over, I reach for it, but my fingers come into contact with something fluffy.
My brows pull together as I lift up the fur ball between my thumb and index finger and hold it up in front of me. “What the fuck,” I whisper.
Two beady eyes stare back at me and it takes me a moment to catch on to what I’m holding.
Gripping the glittery unicorn horn, I slide the zipper open and I’m immediately greeted with a stripper business card and a driving licence.
Charlotte.
The purse must have fallen out when I took her to her family. I glance at the address, wondering what I should do.
Do I take it to her or do I give it to Landon?
I look through the windshield at my sister studying one of her books and come up with an answer.
I’m going to speak to her.
CHAPTER FIVE
CHARLOTTE
I come to a stop after showing Mum my room via video call. I needed a change after Scott. My room no longer felt like a safe space. There were too many bad memories so it was time for a cleanse.
My dad and uncles did the heavy lifting and got rid of the old furniture. Me, Landon, and Dad did the decorating. The rest I wanted to do myself. It was something I needed to do myself.
And I have finally finished it. It feels great.
Mum grins over the screen. “It looks good.”
I sigh, pushing open the window. “I’m loving it.”
“But, honey, what about some fluffy pillows, or what about some lights, or hey, we were in the Range earlier and we saw this pineapple lamp that I think you’d adore. It’s rose gold so will match the décor.”
I bite my lip as I look around the room. All my old knick-knacks are gone. Every time I looked at them I heard his voice inside of my head telling me they were for little girls, not grown women.
I shake my head. “I think it doesn’t need anything else.”
She sighs, tilting her head. “But it’s not you. It needs your personality.”
“I’ll have a look.”
“Don’t change who you are,” she tells me after stepping into another room. “Be you, honey.”
“But there was something wrong with me before.”
“I’m coming over,” she tells me.
“No, Mum. Please, I’m okay.”
“No, you aren’t, but you will be,” she assures me softly.
She’s worried about me. I know she doesn’t like me being back home but it’s the best thing for me. I need to get back to my norm and tomorrow, I’m finally going back to work.
“How about we go shopping at the weekend and get some more stuff?”
She visibly relaxes. “I’d love that.”
My fire alarm begins to blare and my eyes widen. I turn back to the phone. “My cakes!”
“Go!” she orders. “Call me later.”
I nod, and throw my phone onto my new bedcover. It’s rose gold with a light gold feather pattern.
I race into the kitchen and pull open the oven door, and the smell of charcoal burns my nostrils. “Oh no.”
I grab my oven mitts, pulling out the tray and placing it on the hobs. My shoulders drop as I look around the kitchen at all the other disasters. I thought this batch would be it.
I lean over, pushing the window open a little, then freeze, my heart racing as I run back out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Katnip.
I forgot to shut my bedroom door and I left my window open. Racing inside, I run to the window, my eyes widening when I spot her on the tree, her yellow eyes glowing as she turns to me and hisses.
“Katnip, come back,” I call out softly. She once again hisses in response. “I know you don’t like being cooped up in here, but there are cars out there. And you don’t want to become a bad meme because you got squished by one.”
Another hiss.
Rushing downstairs, I head outside to my back garden. As I glance up into the tree, I groan, placing my hands on my hips.
“Katnip,” I whine.
Dragging the mini step ladder—that I keep out here for this very reason—over to the tree, I take a step up. It isn’t the first time she has done this to me.
And won’t be the last.
I pull myself up, biting my lip when she moves up higher. “No, Katnip.”
Hiss.
The bark is rough on my fingertips as I reach the first branch, panting out a breath as my muscles already protest.