Page 14 of Shadowing Charlotte

Chapter fourteen

Alexander

I woke on Zane's couch with my dick aching and my head throbbing. Tarot had been absolutely insane. I couldn't remember anything after the fourth cup of whiskey and the second round we'd had in the private room.

Lilly was a wildcat; she'd been exactly what I needed to clear my head. In fact, she'd been almost perfect. I found it sort of odd that she had begged me to take pictures of her, but I guessed exhibitionism was one of her kinks. She'd even let me call her Charlie before I'd blacked out.

With the headache, came an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Why had I settled for fantasy when the real thing had left her bathroom window open for me?

I flicked open the app on my phone, but there were no new messages. My stomach felt like a lead anchor had been dropped into it. As I stared at Charlotte's profile on Facebook, a picture loaded on the feed.

Charlotte had been tagged in a photo with someone named Mirium. Her arm was around Charlotte's shoulder. Both of them were smiling at the camera, plates of breakfast and glass flutes in front of them.

Good brunch is the best cure after a shitty night.

Shitty night? Had Charlotte gone out again after we had been messaging?

Was it Mirium that had a shitty night? Another upload.

The pair singing along to the song playing in the restaurant.

They were laughing and drinking mimosas, but the happiness in their voices didn't meet Charlotte's eyes.

When she turned her head to look at the waitress, the phone nearly fell from my fucking hands.

She had a bruise across her cheek, barely visible beneath her makeup .

I was off the couch in an instant, hitting the call button on the app. It rang once, before being declined.

Pick up.

I called again and it was declined once more.

Are you alright?

Charlotte?

The little icon popped up, telling me she'd seen the messages, but she didn't bother to reply.

Something had changed. Something had happened.

The guilt was overwhelming, washing over me like a tidal wave.

Something had happened, and I had been too busy putting my dick in someone else. Fuck. I felt like an asshole.

Hungover and disoriented, I was in no position to drive, but it didn't stop me. I was sitting across the street from Charlotte's house before I came out of my daze. Her Jeep was gone, but her driveway was covered in glass fragments. I waited. And waited.

It was nearly two when a car pulled up to the curb and Charlotte got out.

She leaned against the door, talking to the driver for a few moments, a fake grin plastered across her face.

The car pulled away and Charlotte's smile fell, her shoulders sagging as she followed the pathway up to the door.

By the time I'd climbed out of the car, she'd entered the house.

I didn't bother with knocking, too worked up to care. Typing in the code, I shoved the door open, finding the house eerily quiet.

"Charlie?" I called out, my stomach churning with unease as I moved toward the hall. The shower was running in the bathroom, steam already covering the mirror as I pushed the door open. Everything around me faded away as I heard the soft sound of Charlotte's sob. "Charlie?"

A small, choked sound came from behind the fogged glass door. "Go away…" she whimpered. I could hear the tremor in her voice, like she was trying to conceal her sorrow. I didn't care. Pulling the contents from my pockets, I dropped them on the rug and tugged the shower door open.

"Charlotte, baby—" My words died on my lips, my heart falling into the pit of my stomach.

She was huddled in the corner on the floor of the shower, her head buried in her arms as the water streamed down her skin.

As the cool air filled the stall, she looked up at me and my heart shattered.

Whether it was the water or her tears, her cheeks had been smeared with her mascara, her skin red from being scrubbed excessively.

The bruise on her cheek was clearly visible without a layer of foundation.

"What happened? "

A fresh round of tears filled her honey-colored eyes. When she sobbed again, I fell to my knees, the water stream soaking me through. Pulling her into my lap, I let my arms envelop her like a blanket of comfort.

"My boyfr—my ex…" she cried against my shoulder as I gently rocked her. All I could do was hold her until her tears subsided. Inside, I was fuming, already trying to decide what the most painful way to kill the fucker would be.

"Let me see," I lifted her chin to gently ghost my thumb over her bruised cheek. "He hit you?" she blinked back fresh tears, nodding. "And the glass in the drive?"

"He ruined my Jeep," she croaked out in a heartbreaking whisper. Guilt bloomed quietly in my chest like a weed, unwanted and difficult to uproot. I was the worst fuck on the planet. She'd been assaulted while I had been screwing someone else.

"I'm so sorry, princess…" I whispered, kissing the crown of her head and tightening my hold around her. "He won't ever touch you again, I promise…" For a long time, she simply cried in my lap, her sobs slowly morphing into gentle sniffles.

"You're soaked…" she finally whispered, a small, sad bubble of laughter spilling from her as she took in my appearance.

"I couldn't care less," I replied, combing my fingers through her damp hair. Wet clothes were the least of my concerns.

"We can put them in the dryer." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, offering me a tentative smile.

"Okay." I didn't know what else to say. No words felt strong enough to ease the pain of what she'd been through.

The only thing I could do was be there for her and ensure she felt safe and happy again.

"Come on…" I reached for the towels as she turned off the water, wrapping one around her before grabbing one for myself.

She left me in the bathroom, padding down the hall to her bedroom. When she came back, she was half-dressed, gaping at me as I wrapped the towel around my hips.

"Never had a naked man in your bathroom?" I asked, hoping to see her smile again.

"I've never had a stalker in my bathroom," she corrected, the corners of her mouth twitching. Seeing Charlotte's face brighten, even hesitantly, eased the ache in my chest.

"Oh, you have. You just don't remember because you were asleep." I smiled as her cheeks turned pink in that way I'd come to adore.

"Will you stay with me, Alexander?" she asked in a hesitant whisper, the sadness in her brown eyes returning. Even if I'd had something else to do, I wouldn't have denied her. There was little I could deny Charlotte Emmerson.

An hour later, we were curled up on her couch.

All the curtains had been drawn closed, giving the illusion that the sun had already set.

Charlotte's baggy sweats were digging into my hips, but I didn't mind.

I was more focused on how she felt in my arms, sighing as she flicked through a list of movies on the giant flatscreen, while simultaneously scrolling on her phone.

"Do you like Mexican food?" she asked as I absentmindedly stroked my fingers over her arm, watching in fascination as goosebumps prickled across her skin.

"I'll eat anything except onions. I'm allergic." I replied.

"I thought you said you didn't have any allergies? At the smoothie place…" she replied, glancing up at me with skepticism.

"Somehow, I didn't imagine there were onions in your breakfast drink." I flashed her a playful grin.

"Tacos or a burrito?" she asked, holding the phone up so I could look at the menu.

I selected one and then she lowered the phone, continuing to scroll through the photos of food.

It was bizarre, how easily we relaxed against one another, like puzzle pieces clicking into place.

"Thirty minutes." she announced when she'd finished ordering.

Charlotte refocused on the screen, scrolling through the horror section, finally selecting one. "You're going to watch that… While we eat?" I asked with a repulsed grimace. She shrugged, giving me a small smile. "No, seriously Charlotte. I'll fucking throw up." I told her.

"It doesn't even show anything!" she whined. "Don't be a pussy."

"They're sewn together, mouth to asshole. How is that not enough to put you off your food?" I could handle horror movies, but splatter while eating was another story altogether.

"You said we could watch anything I wanted!" she countered, pouting at me, her soft pink lip sticking out.

I couldn't hold back anymore, I leaned over her, catching her bottom lip between my teeth.

She gasped against my mouth before melting into me, her lips parting.

Thrill and satisfaction coursed through me at her response as I pulled her closer.

I wanted more, needed her to crave me the way I did her.

"You're lucky I adore you—" I panted against her lips.

"Because if you didn't, I'd be lying in a grave somewhere out by the quarry?" she asked, nuzzling my nose, as if we'd been together for years, as if she adored me as much as I did her.

"That's not funny, Charlotte," I replied grimly, unamused by her dark humor. She grinned as she released me and threw the covers off.

"What do you want to drink?" She padded into the kitchen in her socks, her ass cheeks hanging out of her underwear. She was completely unbothered by my gaze, pausing in the doorway to bat her lashes at me. "Pepsi, water, Gatorade?"

"Whatever you want, princess," I called back.

She returned, setting two bottles of water on the table and taking a puff from her vape. When she offered it to me, I took a long drag, releasing the mist into her face as she climbed into my lap.

"Are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?" she teased as she straddled me, her proximity immediately making my body go haywire, as if she were lightning covered in skin.

"Aren't we a little old for labels, princess?" I asked my hands moving to grip her hips.

"I'm not, grandpa," she replied, sticking her tongue out at me. The action only reminded me of how young she was, perhaps too young. I couldn't help but wonder if I was making a mistake. I mean—fuck—I'd been making the same mistake for two fucking years.