Page 22 of That Emerald Vow

“Hello, Mother,” I barely say before she’s talking over me.

“Where are you?”

Rolling my eyes at her micromanaging, I say, “I’m about forty-five minutes away.”

“Okay. Good. Demetri had a last-minute business meeting out of town, so he isn’t coming.”

I still as the information hits me, feeling instantly relieved.

“Charlie?” she says, annoyed. “Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, Mother.” A smile forms on my lips.

“It’s fine. He’ll be here for our anniversary weekend at least,” she says. I don’t allow that to ruin my current mood. That will be a problem for a later date—one I hope never comes. For now, I will take this small win. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” She hangs up before I can say anything else.

Still feeling euphoric after my orgasm and ridding the world of another rapist, I roll my windows down, taking in the afternoon breeze as I turn up the volume and sing along to my playlist.

The nervous energy in my body is palpable as I make my way down the stairs to the garage level—unable to wait for the elevator. There’s no sound in the stairwell except my hard steps pounding on the concrete. I need to move. I need to . . . I don’t know . . . I need to do something to ease this tension. Alex, Nigel, and I have a plan to petition against my mother’s compassionate release, as her life expectancy does not meet the minimum requirements. Especially since she’s a danger to society.

Without a second thought, I pull out my cellphone as I walk to my truck, swiping down until I find the contacts under “G.” Pressing the call button, I wait for her to pick up.

“Hello?” Charlie answers, her voice muffled by running water in the background.

I abruptly stop in front of my truck door, second-guessing my impulsive decision to call her. “I’m sorry. Is this a bad time?” I hear the squeaking of the faucet being turned off. “It is, isn’t it? I’m sor—”

“You’re fine. Uh, I just got home and was about to take a shower,” she says, cutting me off.

I twirl my keys in my free hand as a nervous tension fills my stomach. “Does that mean you’re in for the night? I-I was hoping to . . . I don’t know, go out for a drink or something . . .”

“D, are you okay?” Charlie asks in a tone of voice I rarely hear from anyone outside of my sister and Adrian. Worry. She’s worried about me, and it makes something in my heart thaw—a part that I didn’t know was possible to feel.

“I—” I consider lying, but what’s the point? “I’ve been better.”

Charlie pauses for a second. I can imagine her picking at lint or wiping something away that isn’t there. It’s a nervous tick of hers I quickly picked up. I can tell my little gem is a free spirit, but her true heart is guarded. She doesn’t allow herself to be anything but perfection. “I need fifteen minutes to shower. How about you come over? We can have a drink here? Talk . . . Not talk.” I would love to “not talk” with her. And I mean that in every sweet and naughty way. Being around her fills me with nervous energy but also a peaceful calm.

A smile splits my face, and I notice I’ve stopped fidgeting with my keys. “I’ll be over in a flash. Do you want me to bring anything?” I check my watch, seeing it’s a little past 10 PM.

“Strawberry milkshake from the diner we went to the other day. Extra large.” I don’t think they have more than one size. But if she wants an extra large, she’s getting a fucking extra large.

“You got it. I’ll be there soon, Char,” I say.

“Mm. Okay. See you soon,” she says, her voice low.

My eyebrows immediately furrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Charlie.”

She grunts. “You just . . . You usually call megem. . . You didn’t today.” I chuckle. “It’s stupid. I don’t care. It was just weird that you didn’t.”

“You like that nickname, huh?” At this point, I am so wrapped up in this gorgeously sweet and fiery woman that everything else I was worried about isn’t on my mind.

She quickly stammers out. “N-no.”

“Don’t lie to me,Char,” I growl as I tease.

“Maybe . . . It’s different.” She audibly sighs through the receiver. “It feels unique, just for me . . . special . . .” She whispers out the last word, which makes my heart shatter for her. I don’t know who has made her feel like she’s less than, but I want to destroy that person.

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