“You won’t get into trouble?”
Hayden glances over Charlotte’s head. “Never.”
Charlotte relaxes, not sensing the lie. “I’m so glad.”
Hayden had said the corpse could keep rotting and he deserved to die painfully. There was speculation of what he had done but because the police weren’t going into detail, they didn’t have the answers to report. But someone would soon find out.
There’s a knock at the door before we hear it open. Faith steps through, her complexion pale as she’s unsteady on her feet.
I hiss out a breath, seeing the pot in her hand.
“Blue Forget-Me-Nots,” Madison whispers, standing from her place on the floor.
“What do they mean?” Charlotte whispers, on the edge of the sofa.
“They represent death. The name says it all. It’s a reminder to not forget those who have passed. They are an emblem of remembrance. Whoever sent these, did so with the meaning, ‘he will live on in your memories.’ This is connected to Scott. These flowers are a slap in the face, wanting you to suffer further.”
“Get them out of here,” I bite out.
“There’s a note,” Faith shakily gets out as she hands her father the pot.
Max pulls off the note, opening the envelope before reading,
“His death is the price paid for love.
His grief does not speak.
But yours I’ll seek.
And you, my dearest Charlotte, shall perish for your sins.”
Charlotte covers her mouth with her hand, her breath hitching. “This isn’t over,” she whispers.
Mouth tight, Myles grabs the pot, smashing it against the wall. Kayla stands at his side, placing a hand on his chest as he heaves out a breath. “This isn’t over.”
“Myles,” she whispers, her voice pained.
“No one hurts our daughter. No one. And if the police don’t find them first, whoever it is will be sleeping next to that prick in the morgue.”
I tilt Charlotte’s head up to meet my gaze. “I’m going to go home—”
She grips my arm. “No, stay,” she cries.
“Charl—”
She grimaces. “I understand. I mean, I can’t make you stay. I wouldn’t even if I could. I’m sorry. So sorry.”
I press my lips to hers, taking her off guard. I pull back, resting my forehead against hers. “I’m not going anywhere, but I need some more clothes. I’ll be staying here with you.”
“We can stay with her,” Landon tells me, a warning lacing his tone.
“You’re more than welcome to if that’s what she wants,” I tell him. “But it still doesn’t change the fact I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte breathes, her fingers unclenching from my hoodie.
I kiss her head and get up, glaring down at Landon. “Don’t leave her till I’m back.”
Max snorts. “Look at you giving off orders. Thinks he’s all—” I give him my best ‘don’t fuck with me’ look and he holds his hands up, stepping out of my way. “Carry on. We’ll keep her company until you’re back.”
“Thanks.”
I step out of the room, hearing him mutter, “I could fucking take him.”
I shake my head. Sooner or later, they’ll get it: I’m not as easily scared off as what others may have been.
I’m here to stay.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
DREW
Charlotte and I end up back outside to watch a movie under the stars. The weather has stayed dry and the night air isn’t as cold as it was the last time.
The past week has been draining on her and it’s starting to show. It’s beginning to be a bit of a worry, especially during the times she gets lost in her own head. Nothing or no one can pull her out of those times. So earlier, when she was busy trying to get Katnip out from under her bed, I told the others to leave and give her, and us, some space.
They mean well, all of them do, but it isn’t helping her get back to her norm. They are worried about her, rightly so, and yet, it’s that worry that doesn’t let her forget she found her ex’s—the same guy who assaulted her not that long ago—dead corpse.
Another reason I asked them to leave was selfish on my part. I have a surprise coming tonight and want some alone time with her. And not the kind that’s whispered words in her room so her family can’t overhear. I find she opens up more when she isn’t trying to protect those around her, and when she isn’t trying to mask the hurt in her words to save other people’s feelings.
And she is hurt.
At first, I thought it might be because she still harbours feelings for him, and although she’s never said it directly, I know that isn’t why.
Outside, under the stars and the light glow of the lights and the white screen, she is the most relaxed I have seen her this week.
“How are you doing?” I ask, breaking the silence that fell between us once the movie started. Now it has ended, and for a moment, we were enjoying the solace of the peace and quiet. This week has been hectic with people coming and going. It reminded me again of the vast difference between our families. Well, my mother’s and hers. My dad’s side is almost similar.
What surprised me the most was not one member, save her uncle, gave a shit about me inserting myself into her life. None of them worried, even if they didn’t like us being together. I think given the circumstances, given my record with those around me, they knew deep down I would never hurt her or any woman. Or at least, I hope that’s what it is. They are Carter’s after all and could just be biding their time. There are times I see them staring at Jaxon and it looks like they are secretly planning where to hide his body. Every so often, I’ll be on the receiving end of the same look.
“I’m good,” she whispers, snuggling into my warmth. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I enjoyed doing this the last time,” I tell her, giving her a pointed look.
A faint pink blush rises in her cheek. “Me too,” she whispers. “But that wasn’t what I was thanking you for.”
My brows draw together. “What were you thanking me for?” I pull her lush body against mine and she cocks her leg over mine, snuggling closer.
“For realising I needed some space to think, and making it happen.”
“Your family mean well,” I remind her.
She traces patterns on my chest with the tip of her finger. “I know. I don’t know what I’d do without them, but this week, the voices inside my head have been going a mile a minute. Add in all their thoughts and feelings and it’s been deafening,” she explains before lifting her head up. “I’m not crazy. I swear. It’s my own thoughts I hear and because they overlap, all screaming at me to figure out, to compartmentalise, it’s driving me mad.”
I duck my head down and reach over, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”
She snorts lightly. “I think I’m crazy.”
“You’ve had a lot going on.”
“I’m surprised you’ve not run for the hills. My family is crazy, but this is something else. It’s a lot to deal with. And then there’s what happened at the gym.”