I bite my lip to stop the laughter from bursting free, but it’s too late. She smacks my chest.
“Babe, they deserved it.”
“But Harriet—”
“Was giving them what they deserved.”
She sighs, dropping her chin onto my chest. “If you say so.”
I do.
The girls had started rehearsing this week at the gym since they had some free time come up. Some of the members of the gym had made some lude comments and tried getting into the room they were practicing in. The girls took it upon themselves to get payback, not wanting to deal with that every time they wanted to go and practice. I’m not sure what actually happened, but the girls went out to use some of the equipment. Two clients were rushed to A&E for dropping the barbell on their chest. Three went flat on their face on the treadmill and the staff said the sight wasn’t pretty after. I wish I had been there to see it. They all found it hilarious, especially when the girls started taunting them for their lack of willpower and strength.
Charlotte seems lost in thought once more and once again, I notice tears gather in her eyes. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” she whispers.
I nudge her. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t think I can talk to anyone about this.”
I pull her up my body. “I’ll never judge you. Ever,” I assure her. “This is about Scott, isn’t it?”
She nods, glancing away. “I’m sad.”
I gulp, my worst fear coming to life. Maybe I read her wrong. Maybe she does mourn his loss. And it isn’t until this very moment that I realise what she has become to me. I know my feelings run strong. I would never have risked my friendship with Landon had they not. She drew me in like a magnet, and even if I had tried to pull away, to take a step back, it wouldn’t have mattered. I would have always ended up here. With her.
Free-falling into something that’s beyond something I have shared with any other girl or girlfriend.
I gulp. “About Scott?”
So many emotions cross her face. Confusion, pain, hurt, grief. “He had children,” she whispers.
I try not to tense my body, but it’s hard. This is the first time I have heard of him having kids. Or at least, I think it is. I know she didn’t know about them before without having to ask; she is too kind-hearted and loving. She’d never have started something with him had she known. I know that with all my heart. She isn’t built that way.
“Children?”
“The night he… that night I found out he was married, the night he hurt me, I read part of a message on his phone. Someone called Sophia had messaged him asking if he would be back to put the kids to bed. He had kids, Drew. Innocent children. They are going to be devastated when they learn of his death. I can’t imagine what they will go through. It’s tearing me apart inside.”
She begins to sob and I clutch her under her armpits and lift us both up, sliding her into my lap. “You have the biggest heart.”
“They will grow up without a father. I can only imagine how that will feel for them. Just the thought of my dad never being here, it rips me open inside. I don’t know how old his children are, but they must be young. This is going to change their entire life. And I… And I…”
“Charlotte, this isn’t your fault. I get you feel for them. I do too. No kid should go through that kind of loss. But we can’t change the outcome. None of us. They are going to feel it either way.”
“I know it’s not my fault he’s dead. I wasn’t the cause or maybe even the reason. But I keep running over it in my head. What if the person who killed him is the same person as my stalker? That would mean I am part of the reason. Maybe they knew he hurt me that night and killed him for it. Maybe he—”
I press my lips to hers, silencing her. Her breathing is ragged, harsh, and as I run my fingers down the curve of her spine, she begins to calm. “One, we don’t know who killed him. If it even is the same person. Two, he had enemies. Any one of them could have found him and killed him for revenge. Don’t feel guilty for his death.”
“I don’t. I feel… something. But it’s not guilt. I’m sad for his family. For his wife. I didn’t want him to die, even…. even during and after that night. But I’m not sad that he’s dead.” She sniffles, glancing over my shoulder. “That is what I feel guilty about. I’m a bad person for thinking like that.”
“No, it makes you one of the best,” I admit, and it pulls her attention back to me. Her brows pinch together. “I couldn’t give a fuck that he’s dead. For me, his death or not, he would have been punished and paid for his crime. Whether that was this month or in ten years. It would have caught up to him—and it seems like it has. Your family wish it was them who killed them. Even that cranky lady who lives next to Lily was ranting the other day when I went out to get milk about how she wished it had been her to do it.”
“I want my life to be boringly normal again.”
My lips twitch. She’s hot when she pouts. “I hope that includes me.”
“Always,” she whispers.
A thought occurs to me, one I assume occurred to the police before they took Charlotte in for questioning. “If he has a wife, and children, he has to be known by other parents, neighbours. He would have been reported missing. Why hasn’t his wife reported him missing?” I put out there. “And you said he worked. Why haven’t they?”
“Maybe they have,” she admits. “Maybe they reported the real Scott missing.”
“Maybe,” I reply, but it’s doubtful. “The first thing the police would have done was run through missing persons fitting his description.”
“Let’s talk about something else. Tell me what you’d be doing if you were at home.”
I glance down at her, knowing this is the moment I let her in on how boring my life was until I met her. “If I was finished up at the gym, I would most likely be doing books for the gym or be asleep.”
I can see her calculating the time. It’s still early, too early for a grown-arse man to be going to sleep. “You wouldn’t be out with friends?”
I shake my head. “Not really. We’d meet up once in a while but the gym takes a lot out of me. Some nights I don’t finish until late. And then I’m around people all day, every day and sometimes, I just want to go home and chill.”
“I get that. I love people. I love socialising. But I also love coming home and relaxing with a cup of tea.”
I chuckle. “From the stories your family have shared this week, I’m inclined to doubt that.”
Her cheeks blossom. “They were exaggerated.”
“They said you once wanted to go to the beach so badly when you were younger that you took a train and ended up near a village in the middle of nowhere.”
“I was being productive and not pestering my parents. Plus, Madison and Maddox came with me.”
“And the time they told me about you hoarding animals in your bedroom?”
She bites her lip for a moment. “They were injured.”
“See, always a social butterfly.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” she asks, unsure.