Saving Charlie (Stories of Serendipity Book 9) (18 page)

Charlie had just fallen asleep when her phone rang. Instantly, memories of the night’s failed attempt at sex flooded her mind as she answered the phone.

“Hello?”
Please don’t be Justin.

“Are you wet?” Pleasure coursed to her core as soon as she heard the familiar voice. Except the voice belonged to the man whose legs were currently wrapped around hers, didn’t it?

“Who is this?” She sat up to see Les sleeping next to her, right where he was supposed to be. If he was sleeping next to her, who had she been talking to?

“No names, baby, but if you need one…” The way his voice contoured around the word baby caused icy tendrils of fear to form in her stomach. No wonder it had always been a familiar voice. Nausea welled and tears pricked her eyes. She knew that voice, and had never thought she’d hear it again. She was sickened with realization that she’d been encouraging him this entire time, thinking it was Les. How in the hell could she think it was Les? And how was The Man calling her?

“I’m done with this, don’t call me again.” Shaking, she turned her phone off, setting it on the table next to her. She looked back at Les, who was staring at her with sleepy eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“Um…”

“What?”

She couldn’t tell him. Charlie watched as the sleepy look turned to anger as he took in her features, undoubtedly frozen in fear. The Man had her number. Did he know where she lived?

“It was a dirty caller…” The look of alarm on his face was priceless.

“Was it Justin?”

“No, I’ve been talking to him longer than I’ve been seeing Justin.”

He rubbed his face and sat up. “What?”

“Until just now, I’ve been thinking it was you,” she whispered. She silently begged him to not ask any more questions. She’d been playing with the beast for months, and didn’t know how she would undo whatever damage the knowledge would do.

He froze, staring at her, mouth open wide. She took in his disheveled appearance which amplified his confusion. “Why?”

“Because his voice was familiar, and he started calling the same week you started ordering from me.”
But now I know. And it makes me sick.
The trembles that had started when she realized she’d been talking to The Man all this time suddenly turned to full-blown shakes.

“And you’ve been playing along?” She nodded. “Thinking it was me?” His voice was quieter. “Why?” She shrugged again. He got in her face, and his confusion was turning to something else. “Why, Charlie?”

“Because I liked you calling me.”

“But it wasn’t me.” His fingers were back in his hair.

“I realize that now…”
Ohgodohgodohgod. The Man
had her number and had been calling her. He’d been in contact with her for months, and she’d been playing right into his hands.

“Do you know who it is now? What does he say to you? What do you do?”

“He’s someone I never thought I’d hear again. It always starts out with him asking if I’m wet…then—”

“You know what? Never mind.” He turned to Charlie, eyes wild as he tugged at his hair, sending crazy shocks of curls exploding from his head.

“Are you mad? You asked.”

“Am I mad that some random guy has been calling you? That you honestly thought I would talk to you that way? That you played along thinking it was me?” He suddenly pinned her to the bed, his powerful body hovering over hers, holding her wrists next to her ears. Her fight or flight reflexes had her heart racing. She squirmed to get out of his hold, fighting a rising panic inside herself. “If I wanted to know if you were wet, I would check, dammit.”

“I knew you couldn’t be
all
sweet,” she teased, forcing herself back to the present. But the idea of The Man knowing where she was left her breathless. She’d changed her name, moved, changed her life completely. How did he know?

His face was still inches from hers, but he loosened his grip, thankfully. Charlie kept breathing deeply, forcing herself not to freak out. This was Les. He wouldn’t hurt her.

“Do you know him?”

Biting her lip, she shook her head, hoping he didn’t see through her lie. Cocoa eyes stared back at her, daring her to tell the truth. She was stripped bare under his gaze, but wouldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t. Shaking her head again, a whispered, “please…” escaped her mouth.

Defeated, Les let her go and rolled off. Charlie needed to get up, escape his naked scrutiny, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead, he grasped her waist and pulled her toward him, so they were spooning. She felt his angry breath against her ear. Finally, it softened, as he whispered, “Just trust me.” Eventually, she felt him give up and go to sleep.

Even though tomorrow was the big push home, Charlie couldn’t go back to sleep all night. She just lay there in Les’s arms, trying to figure out what the hell she’d done.

From Carla May’s journal—April 1997—aged seventeen

I want to change my name. The trial’s almost over. My child is gone. My husband is gone. I’ve already said goodbye to all ties of my past. No clue where my parents are, and I don’t care. I think I’ll change my name, go to school, and start over. I’ve got my equivalency papers, I can get into a community college somewhere. That would be something he wouldn’t expect, me to actually make something of myself. He crushed me. They both did. One because he didn’t want me. One because he wanted me too much for all the wrong reasons. At least that’s what I tell myself. For some reason, I miss the Man though. Even after everything he did to me. Some part of me knows he was bad. But another part of me felt like he actually took care of me. And now there’s nobody to do that but myself.

I want a new life. A new life where I don’t have to answer to anybody but myself. Ever.

Charlie looked tired. It was Thursday, and essentially they’d been on the road over a week, with Charlie driving the entire time. Since he’d lost his wallet, she’d paid for everything, even his truck, with her credit card. Not that he’d asked. Les had been on the phone with his mother, asking her to wire him the ridiculous sum of money to get his truck back when she’d waved her card at him, signifying it was already taken care of.

He owed her, big time.

Of course, he’d pay her back the money. He had it at home. But she needed a break from the road.

He watched her twist her neck from side to side, loosening it up, before going up behind her and slipping his hands around her waist. Kissing her neck, he said, “Why don’t you let me drive us home? I’ll be careful, my baby’s on the trailer.”

She actually seemed relieved, but it didn’t mask the shadows behind her eyes. Something happened last night, and he knew better than to pry, even though he was totally lost when it came to Charlie. “Okay. Sure.”

Slipping behind the wheel, he said, “It’s been a while since my truck was this nice.” Her truck seemed brand-new, and she obviously took good care of it. It smelled of the leather upholstery, as well as the fruity scent Charlie wore. And of course, the air freshener she used.

Inhaling deeply of the odors encompassing him, Les was reminded vividly of their night of misbegotten passion and his condom stupidity. His whole wallet stupidity. Losing his wallet was putting a strain on both of them; he needed to get them home so she didn’t have to feel like spending more money on him.

He thought of her caller, and a wealth of emotions flooded through him. He was initially jealous. He’d admit that. He was jealous she’d been having intimate conversations with another man. But she’d thought the man was him, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d never in his life had phone sex with a woman. Not that he didn’t want to. The idea had crossed his mind, but he’d always been way too chicken to even suggest it. And here Charlie was, willingly doing it with a stranger because she thought it was Les. And she’d had a boyfriend at the time. So she was essentially cheating on Justin with Les, even though it wasn’t really Les. He was the other man without the benefits.

But she’d lied to him when she said she didn’t know who it was. She’d figured out who the caller was last night, and whoever it was scared her. That was obvious. Les was so confused every time he tried to piece together the puzzle of Charlie’s past. If she wouldn’t let him in and tell him, he’d piece it together wrong. Right now, he just needed to give her the time she desperately needed and hope she’d eventually let him in.

And now that she knew it hadn’t been Les, would she be willing to try it with him? Would he measure up to the anonymous man? He’d never really felt the desire to talk dirty on the phone with his girlfriends, but did chicks dig that?

He couldn’t stop his mind from running over all the possibilities of what she’d said to this guy, thinking she was talking to him. It was killing him. There were so many unknowns about Charlie. He knew next to nothing about her past, except her childhood had been bad and she wasn’t really willing to talk about it. If it was all that bad, he couldn’t really blame her, and didn’t want to push.

Curiosity was killing him. He still saw shadows flicker across her eyes sometimes, and it made him sad. Although the motel experiences had gotten better—she didn’t freak out anymore, and the nightmares seemed to have stopped the last couple of days.

He checked the rear-view mirror to make sure the load was riding okay. They’d spent an hour this morning re-packing everything around his truck. Its roof was still caved in and the side panels needed some work. He’d do that himself. Body shops were unbelievably expensive, and he’d always done most of the work on his truck. He’d only allowed the garage at Big Spring to work on some of its innards because he’d been out of town, and they’d actually been reasonable in their prices.

They’d packed all of the auction purchases in and around the truck, moving some of the smaller pieces to the bed of Charlie’s truck. Les had managed to check on the stained glass piece to make sure it was still intact. He was excited to see the look on her face when she realized he was the one who bought it. It might actually be some way to repay her generosity this trip.

Les glanced over at Charlie. They’d been on the road a couple of hours and she was awfully quiet. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her feet resting on the dashboard. Her teeth tortured her bottom lip, a gesture Les had realized meant she was deep in thought. Her eyes glazed over the road as they ate the miles in front of them.

His hand found her knee and squeezed it gently.

“What’re you thinking about over there?”

Her head snapped around, as if startled, and she gave him a weak smile. “I was thinking about what could have happened in your accident. Morbid shit.”

“I could’ve died.” Yeah, that was morbid all right, but something inside him tingled at the idea she might have missed him.

“You could have died and then you’d be no more. Death is scary.”

“Do you believe that? Death is the end? Nothing after?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, kind of. I mean, I don’t really know what happens after we die, but that seems logical to me.” He could see her stare out of the corner of his eye. “What about you?”

He smiled. “Oh, I’m a firm believer in the afterlife. And God. I even go to church when I can.”

“That’s good.” She went back to looking out the window. Her voice held a conviction that struck Les as odd.

“So, you don’t believe in God?” She shook her head, silently chewing her upper lip. One of her hands began picking at a cuticle. “Why does it matter if I believe in God or not, if you don’t?”

She continued staring at her cuticle. “Because people who have that sort of faith seem to be happier. It gives them joy to think there’s something after death. It gives them a reason to do good things. Like that organization you’re on the board of, Refuge of Light. That’s a Christian organization, isn’t it? Without believers, people wouldn’t have a God to do things in the name of.”

“So you don’t think people are inherently good? You think we need a belief system to do good things?”

She nodded. “Sort of.” Eyes back out the window. Man, this was a tough nut to crack, but Les felt like he was making some progress, nonetheless.

“Well, you do good things, don’t you?” Now she looked uncomfortable. He risked a searching look her way and saw her staring at her lap. “Don’t you?”

“Sometimes.” She was tormenting that lip again.

“People just need to believe in people.”

Still looking out the window, she whispered, “You’re a good man, Les.”

If he hadn’t have been looking at her, he might not have heard her. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach. “Don’t.”

She turned to him. “Don’t what?”

“You’re having second thoughts, I can tell. Don’t do it.” He reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, stilling its cuticle-picking. “Let’s just see where it goes, okay?”

She nodded, still looking out the window.

What had happened to her to make her feel so unworthy of a loving relationship? Was that why she dated jerks? Because she didn’t think she deserved any better?

“You’re a good woman, Charlie. You just need someone who can show you, since you apparently can’t see it for yourself.”

“Are you going to make me all better?” There were tears in her voice, and he snapped his gaze to hers.