Page 13 of That Emerald Vow

By the time she turns back, confusion clear on her face, I’m back tofacing my beer. “That was weird, right?”

“They looked like morons anyway. Probably expected a threesome or some shit.”

“I mean, that kinda sounds fun.” Lust fills her eyes, but then she takes a quick glance back at them. “But maybe not with them. They look all bark and no bite.”

I laugh. “Aka the dogs of fake orgasm town?” I let the golden liquid of my beer cool me down from the inside as I take another swig.

She grabs her beer and cheers’ my glass. “Now you’re getting it. We don’t go to that town.” As she takes a sip from her own beer, she nods behind me. “How about one of those girls?”

Usually I’m ecstatic at the idea of a prospect, but tonight, all my focus wants to be on her. I still make myself turn around and see there’s a group of sorority girls hanging out by the back of the bar. One in particular keeps looking at me, a raven-haired girl rocking a dark minidress—almost daring me to go talk to her. She looks like one of the usual girls I take home, but I have no interest right now.

I turn back to Charlie, and before I can even say anything, she starts, “You’re probably right. They all seem to have crazy eyes.” The pure disdain in her face and tone of voice is almost comical.

“And we wouldn’t want me to end up with a crazy girl, huh? I hear they’re the best in bed,” I say, winking at her.

Clearly understanding I was talking about her, she turns her head sideways with a fake annoyed look. “Shut up!”

“What? I was talking in general.” I smile so big, my cheeks hurt.

She smiles at me as she rolls her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Dimple-man, I’m sure we’ll find someone who will fall for that boyish charm. But maybe not here. Want to try the bar across the street?”

I nod as I get up and throw some bills at the bar. “Thanks, man,” I say to the bartender so he knows we’re leaving. Hesalutes in acknowledgment.

As we walk out of the bar, Charlie is facing me as she tells me about the last time she went to the new bar we’re headed to and this girl caught her boyfriend cheating on her, but ironically, she was also cheating on him.

I notice a man on his phone also not paying attention, and they collide before I can finish saying, “Charlie!”

I catch her from behind as the man looks up and instinctively grabs her by her arms to prevent her from falling. She looks at him and starts to say, “Thank y—” but it gets stuck in her throat. “Unc—” she mutters before I feel her whole body weight on me. Fear and confusion flow through me at the sight of her fainting in my arms.

I look up at the man, wondering if he knows her, but he looks equally confused. Something caused her to have this kind of reaction, and I’m not sure what it was.

My heart stops in my chest as I hold my little gem, who looks like someone dulled all her shine.Who hurt you, little gem?I easily pull her into my arms to set her down somewhere safe.

“Charlotte! Charlotte!” someone yells for me, but the sound comes out muffled, like I’m in a fishbowl. “Charlotte Rose Thatcher!”

I shake my head and force myself to snap out of the fugue state I’m in.

“Charlotte, go say hello to your Uncle Demetri and grab his coat. I need to finish up in the kitchen,” my mother tells me. It’s our annual family Christmas dinner, but I was hoping, like most years, that my uncle would be off on a fancy trip—too busy to spend it with us.

My legs feel like they are made of lead as I drag them to the foyer to let the devil incarnate in. No matter how much older I get—how much stronger—something about this man immobilizes me, brings me back to the scared little ten-year-old girl who had no voice.

I swallow hard before my shaking hand reaches for the doorknob.Ding dong!The doorbell chiming again makes me flinch.

“Coming,” I whisper.

Uncle Demetri looks red from anger by the time I open the door, but as soon as he sees me, it changes into amusement. “Charlotte, how’s my favorite girl?”

I am not your girl.

“Merry Christmas,” I squeak out. “Can I take your coat?”

“Is that a way to greet your uncle?” he asks as he leans in for a hug. I force myself to ignore my revolting stomach, wanting to gag on the stench of his aftershave—the same one he’s been wearing for years.

“Sorry,” I say as I give him a quick hug and try to push away. “Your jacket? Mother is waiting.”

“She can wait a little longer. What has it been? Two years. You still smell so good, my little Charlotte.” He takes a deep inhale. “Maybe I need to come back more often.”

My hands are fisted at my sides—frozen in place as he trails his fingers up my skirt. “Visit my niece. Spend some quality time with her.” The contact makes bile rise in my throat.

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