Page 22 of Stars and Scars

“We have annexed Charlotte Gilroy’s social media pages for our moral imperative. From now on, these pages will carry the beacon for the Aegis Order. This is a call to arms for all true free thinking citizens of the world. Opt in, or perish.”

“What?”

Charlotte sputters as notifications flash up in rapid succession on her screen. All of them pertain to a new video posting on her account.

“Someone just uploaded fifteen videos to my page!”

“Probably nothing but more nonsensical propaganda. It’s best to ignore it.”

“Ignore it? I’m going to take it down right now.”

As if on cue, the voice over cuts in again.

“If Charlotte Gilroy or her team attempts to remove any of these videos, the Aegis Order will execute her for crimes against all humanity.”

Charlotte’s face turns white. She stares, wide-eyed, at her screen as the phone trembles badly in her hand.

“We are the Aegis Order, and we have spoken.”

I gently take the phone out of her hand and set it in the center console.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them so much as touch you, Charlotte.”

I’m surprised by the vehemence in my voice. She seems to be surprised, too. Charlotte’s gaze darts my way. I can tell she wants to be reassured, but given what she just went through, I’m not surprised she isn’t.

“Are you going to protect me twenty four seven for the rest of my life?”

My ire is up, and I blurt out my reply without a filter.

“If I have to, yes! I won’t let them lay a god damned finger on you. I’ll cut their hands off first.”

Charlotte closes her mouth, and gives me a long, silent stare. I think maybe I’ve scared her.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t professional.”

“No, it’s fine.”

A weak smile tugs at her lips, and her gaze holds less despair than a moment ago.

“It’s actually kind of nice to hear you say that.”

Elation burns through my chest. I can’t believe how happy hearing that makes me. It’s a bad sign that I’m way more into Charlotte than I have any right to be.

Charlotte’s eyes narrow, and her smile fades.

“What’s wrong?”

She chuckles and shakes her head, midnight mane glossy and dazzling in the dying sunlight.

“Nothing. I just realized I said it’s nice to hear about people getting their hands cut off. I mean, it’s probably hyperbole, and you didn’t mean it.”

“Oh no. I meant every word.”

I give her a somber look to let her know I’m not screwing around.

“When I took this job, I made a promise to keep you safe. If it means I have to put my body between you and danger, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

It comes out a lot more like macho bragging than I intended. But Charlotte doesn’t mind.

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