Page 38 of Saved from Deception

I’m going to kill him.

Fuck. All of it. Charlie screaming. Charlie on the floor, the chair tipped over. This fucker coming after her. And I don’t even know if she’s hurt, if he touched her—

I want to pound my fist into this smug asshole’s face. And he called Charlie a slut? How dare he? Rage is rampaging through me, scalding hot, desperate to explode.

Then a little sob pulls my rage back, a splash of cold fear. I need to see Charlie.

I growl at the man I have pinned to the desk, giving him a deadly glare. He flinches and I bark, “Stay the fuck there. Don’t even think about moving.”

Then I rush to Charlie, who’s pulled herself into a huddled ball on the floor, hugging her knees, shaking. Keeping one eye on the asshole, I crouch down next to her, touching her lightly on the shoulder. “Charlie, hun, are you okay?”

She lets out another little choked sob and whispers raggedly, “Ry. It happened again.”

Then she leans into me and when I put my arms around her, she starts to cry, a horrible repeat of a few days ago. I don’t know what happened to her, but both times I've let Charlie out of my sight, she’s been hurt. And I’m angry and worried and scared that something happened to her that I can’t fix.

Holding her is agony. Feeling her shaking against me, her tears dampening my shirt. Knowing something bad happened to her and I wasn’t there to stop it.

“She’s just a whore,” the asshole sneers, pushing himself up from the desk and glowering at me. “It’s my word against hers.” He wipes his mouth, smearing blood on his hand. “And she bit me first.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap. “I don’t want to hear a word. Don’t want to see you move from that desk. And trust me, you do not want to fuck with me.”

Charlie flinches against me, shuddering, and I’m so damn angry. I want to pick up Charlie and carry her out of here, bring her home, and keep her safe with me. I want to hold her and not let her go, so no one else can ever hurt her.

As much as I want to keep holding her, I need to know where she’s hurt, need to know exactly what happened here. So I stand up, pulling Charlie along with me, and lead her to the opposite side of the room, arms still around her, keeping her tucked into my chest.

When I try to pry her away from me, she hangs on even tighter. “Charlie, hun,” I croon, my anger cooled by concern. “Can you look at me? I need to know what happened. See if you’re hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers into my chest. “I should have left sooner. What he was saying, I thought it wasn’t right. But I wasn’t sure, and I need a job so badly—”

“It’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Understatement of the year.

Rubbing her back in large circles, my tone soft but commanding, I say, “Charlie, I need to see you.” And then, gently but firmly, I lift her a few inches away from me.

At first, her hair is covering her face, so I can’t see anything other than a curtain of chestnut. But then I brush her hair away and I look at her, and I can’t stop a growl of rage from escaping.

I nearly crack my molars as I inspect Charlie’s face. It’s taking everything in me not to break things.

He hit her.

Her cheekbone is swollen and deep red, with a small gash just under her eye still sluggishly bleeding. Tears are tracked down her face and the look in her eyes—scared and so beaten…

My heart—

“Ah, Charlie.” More tears are spilling down her cheeks and I’m desperate to take them away. I hug her to me again, looking over her shoulder at the asshole, and bite out, “I’m calling the cops.”

He laughs, and if I wasn’t holding Charlie, I’d punch him in the face. “Go ahead,” he says, licking the blood still trickling from his lip. “She attacked me. I pushed her away, she tripped and hit her face. Terrible accident. And then she’ll never get another job. Attacking an established attorney? Filing charges? Good luck with that.”

The rage. I’m trembling with it.

I can’t actually kill him. Even though I desperately want to.

I’m about to snarl back at him when Charlie interrupts me.

“He’s right.” Charlie whispers, her voice tiny and muffled against my chest. “No one will believe me.”

“He shouldn’t be able to get away with it.”

My fist hits the island with a dull thud, the slight sting a welcome distraction from the anger still surging through me. It’s been over an hour since I brought Charlie home, and every time I start to get a handle on my rage, another memory reignites it.

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