Loverboy (8 page)

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Authors: Trista Jaszczak

BOOK: Loverboy
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It’s easy to see Charlie doesn’t want people to think she’s breakable. She wants to come off as strong, even if she is breaking on the inside. She is quite tough, I’ll give her that. I haven’t met anyone like her before. Even drugged and beaten she’s a fighter. And, now, every day she fights to push herself to move forward. I give her a little smile. “Not everyone knows how to deal with things like this,” I explain. “They may need some time too, for it to sink in.”

She nods and reaches for her own cup of coffee. “I will say, the coffee is awesome here too.”

As I reach for my own coffee, my ringing phone interrupts me. “Figures,” I say, digging in my pocket to retrieve it. The screen is glowing with a number from the department. I answer. “Have good news?”

“There are two.” I hear Wilson’s voice come through the phone.

“What?” I ask.

“This whole time we thought we were looking for one sick bastard,” He says. “But there are two of them. They’re working together.”

“How can you know for sure?” I ask.

“Because, the last victim’s body…” he starts. “They fucked up. During autopsy tests, they found two different semen specimens, indicating there’s not just one killer, but two. Of course, we have no DNA matches yet either.”

I feel my heart sink as I drop my head. I look up at Charlie, who immediately knows that it’s not good news.

“Look, just keep doing what you’re doing, Andrews,” he says. “Keep her safe.”

I nod. “I will.”

“And, we’ll call with any more updates.”

“Thank you,” I say just before the line clicks silent.

She sighs. “More bad news.”

I nod.

“They didn’t find another body, did they?” She asks.

I slowly shake my head.

“They found something?” She asks.

“Sort of,” I say.

“What?” She asks.

“Well, after some tests on one of the girls, they said they were able to find two separate samples of semen.”

“Meaning?” She asks. Before I can say another word, her mouth drops open. “There are two. There are two
Loverboys.”

I nod slowly and swallow hard.

Her eyes grow large and she looks down for a moment, scribbling her fork around her plate.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “It was the last thing I wanted to tell you. Believe me. You seemed to be having such a great time tonight.”

“I am having a great time tonight,” she admits. “But, that just sort of put a little damper on my mood.”

“Don’t let it ruin your mood,” I say.

“After everything that’s happened tonight the email, that phone call how can I not let it ruin my mood?”

“Because, when you let it ruin your mood, you’re letting them win, Charlie. Don’t let them win, please. You’re so much stronger than that,” I say, reaching across the table and taking her hand in mine.

“Am I?” She asks.

I nod. “You are. You are the woman who fought hard enough to get away, because you wouldn’t dare let them take your life. Don’t let them take away what you love, or
your freedom.”

“I just,” she pauses. “It’s just been a rollercoaster tonight. Getting that email, you know, standing out on the balcony for the first time in weeks.” She smiles. “Hell, being out in public for the first time in weeks,” she admits. “Now this. Now, there are two of these assholes.” She looks down and shakes her head. “It was bad enough thinking about just one man doing what he did to me. I was unconscious, but, I’m not stupid, you know? But, now knowing that two possibly,” she pauses for a moment again, as if choking back nausea. “It makes me sick to my stomach.”

I find myself sliding out of the booth and into the seat next to her, where I take her in my arms; the first time for me to instigate such close contact. Charlie doesn’t hesitate; she moves in, wrapping her arms around me. I feel her sigh deeply as her head finds my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “But, I’m here. You have me, and while I’m on watch, I won’t let anything happen to you. You hear me?”

I feel her nod. “But, it doesn’t change that gross feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

“I know it doesn’t, but, give it time. When I have these assholes in prison, it’ll be a whole other feeling. A good one. They’ll be the ones getting raped.”

I hear her stifle a laugh. “Do you seriously think that’s what goes on in these prisons?” She asks, moving back slowly.

I nod. “I know that’s what’s going on.”

She laughs.

“Hey, do you really think these huge, tough guys, who are in prison for killing other men are really going to take a liking to what they’ve been doing to women?” I ask. “I mean, think of these huge, scary biker types who have respect for women.”

She laughs again. “I see your point.”

“Trust me; there aren’t many men that agree with what they’re doing out there right now.”

“I hope there aren’t any men who agree with what they’re doing.”

“Do you want to head back?” I ask.

She nods. “If you don’t mind. Maybe wind down, watch some TV.”

I begin yanking my wallet from my pocket, when she stops me and shakes her head. “It’s okay, I got it.”

“Absolutely not,” I tell her. “I brought you here; it’s on me. To celebrate your first time out of that apartment.”

She laughs. “Thank you.”

I nod and pull a ten and two five dollar bills from my black leather wallet that’s seen its better days. I slowly slide from the booth, Charlie following behind me, and head for the counter. I hand the older waitress the money, smiling, “Keep the change.”

She smiles, thanks us, and adds for us to have a great night. I can only hope that Charlie will continue to have a great night.

Outside, we follow the same procedure to my truck. Charlie instantly grabs onto my arm, and again, I don’t say a word as we walk over to my truck. I unlock and open the door for her, allowing her to climb inside. Instead of waiting, this time I push the lock in on her door manually before shutting it tightly as I head over to the driver side and climb up.

“You still okay?” I ask, shutting and locking my own door.

She nods. “I’m fine. Well, at least, I think I am.” She turns her body to face me in the truck. “You know, I just don’t get it; I know that I was out of it, but I just don’t think I remember two men. One, yes. Two, no,” she admits.

“Maybe your memory is still a little hazy,” I say, pulling into the steady stream of traffic.

She nods. “I suppose it could be.”

She leans back into the seat, where she seems to be deep in thought. For some reason, she looks peaceful and content, and rather than interrupt her, we drive in silence back to her apartment. I leave her quietly to her thoughts as she concentrates hard on something obviously in her mind. I park in a random, open spot in her parking lot and shut off my truck. She watches and waits for me to not only exit my truck but for me to walk over to her side
before jumping down herself.

“There are millions of people in New York City,” she tells me as we head for her apartment. “How are you going to find two specific people?” She asks.

“We’re cops, Charlie,” I say, unlocking and opening the secure front door. “It’s our job; it’s what we do.” I nod, allowing her to head inside first.

“I know,” she says, walking in. “I just feel like trying to find these two guys, with no leads, is like trying to find two needles in some jumbo hay stack.”

“But, it’s something cops are good at,” I reassure her. “We’re trained for it, and we will find them,” I say as we start up the stairs, side by side.

She shoves her hands into the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt. “You better be glad that I trust you.”

I laugh. “Oh, trust me, I am.”

As soon as we’re inside her apartment, and I shut and lock the door behind us, Charlie begins pulling her sweatshirt up and over her head, revealing a layer of a few tank tops underneath. She turns to look back at me. “I
know this is your little domain, but care if I watch some TV?” She asks. “I’m not really tired, and the cable hasn’t been run into my own room.”

I shake my head. “Go ahead. Your house, your TV, your clicker,” I tell her, grabbing my own sweats from my bag. “I’m just going to change into some sweats.”

“You know, we should do something tomorrow too. Maybe getting out more will help me. I could even call the counselor back and start scheduling my appointments for over the phone. It’s something, right?
.

“That sounds like a good idea,” I call to her from the bathroom. I hear the TV channels flipping and then slowly come to a stop. “You do what you feel comfortable with. And, we can definitely do something tomorrow,” I say, pulling my plain hooded sweatshirt down over my head. “You know, maybe we could rent a few movies tomorrow,” I tell her. “It gets you out for a bit, but not passed your comfort zone,” I say, making my way back into the living room. I can see that the TV is now on one channel. Lifetime. I shake my head and laugh to myself as I wander over to the couch to find Charlie passed out and leaning into the arm rest. She’s soundly resting on one of
the blankets that I’ve been using at night, and she looks more peaceful than I’ve ever seen her. I take a spare blanket and wrap it completely around her. She doesn’t budge. I smile and begin to work the remote from her hand. She seems to sink even deeper into the couch as I move over to the lounge chair and ottoman, just next to her. I casually flip through random TV channels, checking on Charlie every so often, until sleep washes over me and I fall asleep myself.

 

- 5 -

Charlie

 

 

 

 

I slowly tug the blanket up and around my shoulder as I become a little more coherent to the world. A few deep breaths and I can smell something in my apartment. Not something different; something good. I rub the sleep from my eyes before opening them slightly, and realize that its daylight. I crack them open a bit more, and realize that for the first time in weeks, I’ve slept through the night without one single nightmare. As I slowly sit up it dawns on me that I’m in the living room and on the couch. I took Nick’s bed. I ease myself up and look around. The lounge chair shows signs that he’d slept there last night. I sigh and sink back into the couch for a moment. My pillow had been a blanket he’d previously used. It still smells like him; mix of Cool Water cologne and man smell. I hear the floor behind me creak. I lie still for a moment and take a deep breath.

“Charlie.” I hear Nick’s voice behind me.

I immediately let the breath out and sit up. Nick is behind me with a steaming cup of what smells like coffee and a small plate.

“Good morning,” I say. “I’m sorry I took your bed last night.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. You slept, that’s what matters.” He looks down for a moment. “I made you some coffee, and since I’m not a cook, I found some English muffins and jam.”

I smile. “Thank you,” I say. “That was really sweet of you.”

He walks past me and places both the cup and the plate on my coffee table. “I figured you had cooked for me before. It was the least I could do.”

“Thank you,” I tell him again as he returns to the kitchen for his own cup of coffee. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven,” he answers, having a seat again in the lounge chair.

I can feel my own eyes become large. “What? Are you serious?”

He nods and smiles. I can now see that he’s still in his own gray Under Armour sweat pants, but is now in a plain white tee shirt. His feet are bare, and his golden hair is a mess from sleeping. His stubble is beginning to show more, and for some reason now I see the beautiful light and bright shade of jade his eyes are.

“Feel rested?” He asks, having a drink of coffee.

I nod. “Surprisingly, I do,” I tell him, taking a small bite of English muffin.

“Sorry that I couldn’t fix you something better,” he says. “It was that or cereal.”

I laugh. “Please, I’m lucky to have time for coffee in the mornings.”

“Are you still up to rent some movies tonight?” He asks.

“Well, renting from a store would be pointless when I have Netflix.” I laugh.

“So, you’re one of those people that stream the movies to your TV.”

I nod. “I’m a movie freak, so it was the right way to go for me,” I explain. “But, if we want popcorn we’ll more than likely have to go to the store for that.”

He gives me a nod as he takes a sip of coffee. “That’s no problem.”

“Matter a fact,” I say. “I could probably stand to do a little grocery shopping, too.” I look down and pull off a piece of English muffin to eat. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone.”

“Hey,” he says, regaining my gaze. “Baby steps remember? There’s no need to start rushing yourself now.”

“I know,” I say. “I just feel like I’ve fallen behind with everything. School, work, my friends...”

“I personally think you’re doing very well.” He smiles. “You’ve come a long way in a short amount of time.”

“You think so?” I ask.

He nods. “Of course, I think so. I know so.”

I smile. “Maybe one day soon I’ll get up enough courage to go into work, check in on things. They said they would hold my position for me, given what’s happened,” I explain. “My boss was even kind enough to give me paid time off, so I’m not completely without income,” I tell him as I bring my coffee cup to my lips.

“Some boss you have,” he says. “Not many people would agree to do that.”

“I know, I’m very lucky to have such a great boss to work for.” I glance back at the clock, its hands have nearly reached noon. “I can’t believe I slept as late as I did. I really should shower and dress,” I say, finishing the last of my coffee in a gulp.

“I’ll clean up my mess before you see it.” He smiles. “So, take your time.”

I nod and venture down the hallway to my bedroom, where I begin digging for clothes from my walk-in closet. For the first time in weeks, I’ve finally gotten the nerve to pull out a normal pair of jeans and fitted tee shirt. Baby steps. No sense living in my dance and yoga gear. I head back down the hallway to my bathroom, where I hear Nick fumbling around in the kitchen again. I shut the bathroom door behind me and start running warm water. Given the small ache in my neck, I turn up the temperature just a bit more before stepping in. Before I disappear in the shower, I hear a loud clang come from the kitchen, followed by a yelp from Nick. Someone really needs to teach that boy around the kitchen.

 

* * * * * *

             

I take a good long look at myself in the mirror. It seems funny being in real clothes. I’ve grown so accustomed to my dance and yoga gear that it almost feels odd feeling jeans against my legs. My jeans fit, strangely, a little looser than they used to, but I certainly won’t complain. And, I will admit that the pale pink fitted tee shirt does look quite nice on me despite all the bruises and marks. I examine my wet and stringy hair. If I’m going to wear normal clothes for once, I might as well go all out and actually do something with my hair other than throw it into that mess that I call a bun. I reach for my hair dryer and begin drying it slowly as I straighten it. When I finish and look in the mirror, I feel like I’m looking at a new person. My hair is straight and quite shiny. It’s a nice change from the slob I was slowly turning into. I give myself a smile and reach for my eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. Might as well; I’ve gotten this far. It’s just make-up; will it really hurt to wear it?

“Hey!” I hear from Nick. “Everything okay?”

I think for a moment and smile. It is okay. “Yeah,” I reply. “Just finishing up.”

“Okay,” he says. “Just wanted to make sure.”

When I step out of the bathroom I can clearly hear the TV. It sounds as though there’s a sports show on. I can’t tell what it’s really about, but it’s obvious that Nick wants one someone to play for a team. I shuffle just past him and into the kitchen, where I yank out the usual small note pad that I use for my grocery list.

“I’m going to make a grocery list,” I tell him. “Anything you can think of that you want me to pick up?” I ask as I open my near bare refrigerator to have a look
inside.

“Let me think about it,” he says. “I’m not picky, but I sure could go for more pasta,” he tells me, his focus still on the TV.

“I can do that,” I say. “I always keep pasta stuff stocked.”

“Charlie!”

His voice makes me jump back and look at him. “What’s wrong?” I ask. His expression is one that I have never seen on him. He looks happy, but confused, while his face seems flustered. It’s enough to make me feel a little self conscious as he studies me.

“You…You’re…You look different,” he says. “You look really good. I mean, not that you didn’t look good before, because you did, but, you look really,” he pauses. “You look beautiful.” His cheeks begin growing redder. “Not that you weren’t beautiful before. But, you get my point.”

I laugh softly, and I can feel my own cheeks heat up a little. It’s a little strange hearing him compliment me. It does feel nice hearing the compliments; a little odd, but good none-the-less. He is adorable, with such a wide and beautiful smile that it’s enough to make me a little weak in the knees. An unusual and unexpected feeling for the girl who was raped and tortured. I glance down at my feet a moment and scrunch my nose before letting our eyes meet again. Nick’s face is still a little pink, and it’s clear to see that he’s embarrassed himself.

“I’m just going to shut up now,” he says, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Well, thank you,” I say. “Like you said, if I let him take away my life and everything I love then I’m letting him win. I don’t want him to win,” I admit.

“Well, you do look really great,” he says. “It’s a very suiting look for you.”

I smile. “Thank you. I swear I’m not the slob that I was slowly turning into.”

“I never thought you were a slob,” he says. “I just assumed you wanted to be comfortably covered.”

I smile. “So, are you picky about the popcorn you eat?” I kind of feel weird asking him what he likes to eat, but honestly, he’s been taking such good care of me, the least I can do is feed the man.

He nods. “Butter lover’s, it’s the only kind I’ll eat.”

I laugh. “You have good taste, because that’s all I’ll buy.” I scribble popcorn, milk, eggs, yogurt, and orange juice on my grocery list as I turn to dig through my small pantry.

“Have you ever tried that Jiffy Pop stuff?” He asks.

I nod. “Of course; only when camping, though.”

“Camping?” He asks. “You camp?” He’s now staring at me in complete disbelief. As though I’m making some wild story up about how they found a zebra in the subway.

I turn to look at him. “From Indiana, remember? I’m not like the girls up here.”

He laughs. “You got that right.”

“What about you?” I ask. “Do you like camping, hiking, and all that outdoor stuff?”

“Of course I do,” he tells me.

“Would you believe I have a four-wheeler back home?” I laugh, though I certainly feel a pang of homesickness wash over me. I miss my brothers, my dad, and my mom. Even though we have our differences, I still love them, whether we talk or not. Telling them what’s happened to me will be even worse. I don’t even want to believe what’s happened to me.

Nick’s voice snaps me back. “Now that I would have to see to believe.”

I shoot him an offended look. “You have all sisters; I have all brothers, three to be exact. All older.” I point to the large frame on the wall. “That’s me and my brothers, all on our four-wheelers. Thank you very much.”

“You’re not very dainty are you?” He asks, laughing while examining the photo.

“Dainty? Are you kidding me? With three older brothers, I wouldn’t have lived passed thirteen,” I admit as I jot bread, strawberries, apples, and peanut butter on my accumulating list.

He laughs. “Imagine how they feel having a sister.”

I laugh sarcastically. “They would have rather thrown me to the wolves than protect me.”

“I’m sure as you got older that was a different story, though, right?” He asks.

“Well, yeah, but do you know how many years that took?” I laugh. “I was thinking of fixing steak and baked potatoes tonight for dinner, would you like some?”

“Do you really think that I’m going to turn that down?” He asks.

I laugh and shake my head. “What man would?”

“A vegetarian?” He asks.

“Okay, ask yourself this,” I start. “What man do you know that’s a vegetarian?”

He pretends to think for a moment, and then shakes his head.

“My point exactly,” I say as I look over my list.

“I should probably get showered and changed myself,” Nick tells me as he moves up from the lounge chair. “I’ll admit, it was nice to have a relaxing day. To not feel so on
edge.”

“I’m pretty sure that you need more rest than I do,” I say. “I hope I have more days like that in the near future. I certainly will never complain about a full night’s sleep.”

“Don’t worry,” Nick reassures me. “I know you will.” He disappears down my hallway, finding my bathroom.

I continue compiling my grocery list as I realize my kitchen is barer than I ever thought it was. What have I been eating for the past few weeks? I become a little agitated with myself as I shuffle through the cabinets and refrigerator. It’s becoming clear that, as I dig for food, that my growling belly is demanding to be fed. Which means
,
this trip to the grocery should be more than interesting. I find that after…after I escaped hell, I haven’t been doing things as I normally would. Sleeping, eating, it’s all seemed to have taken a back seat while I try to figure out life. I have a life, and I am grateful that I survived. I’m heartbroken for the ones who haven’t, but trying to figure out how to keep moving forward is still difficult. Right now, I’m a little afraid to go to the grocery store. Not because of a sky high bill, but because not one, but two Loverboys could very well be watching me. Watching, learning, and waiting for the perfect moment to grab me again and finish what they started. I try to remind myself it has to get better and easier from here, but sometimes it’s hard, even after vowing to never let them win.

When I hear the bathroom door creak open, I snap my thoughts back to the grocery store and my list of things I need. I never realized just how much faster it was for men to get ready than women; he couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. I finish penning a few more things on my now two page grocery list, and look up to see Nick standing in normal clothes. A pair of tennis shoes, dark wash jeans, and a green polo, which, I have to admit, doesn’t look bad on him.

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