Page 34 of Oliver

Charming Charlie:Don’t expect me to be your little cheerleader friend. You want to keep a man, you know what to do.

Dixie: Thanks GF! CC, I have no problems keeping a man…

Charming Charlie:Then show me…

Was Charlie trying to encourage her to stay with Mr. G, I’m assuming because of course they don’t say any names. Or baiting her for his own use?

If so, why? Although they trade dirty innuendos, it’s almost as though Charlie doesn’t see Dixie as worthy enough. But for what?

While I wait for the shit to load, I cross into Dixie’s room and stare at her stuff. Her computer was confiscated along with her phone and the police haven’t returned it. Did they find the same shit I did?

Chapter 12

If you’re created in his image, are you destroyed that way too?

Penny

Somewhere around midnight, I collapse into bed. Images of Dixie with faceless monster’s dance through my dreams. When I wake, it’s with a dull throbbing in my head and a desperate need to get out of here.

After drinking several glasses of water and showering, I go for a walk down the street, breathing in the fresh air. When I pass old Mr. Lee’s house, he waves from his rocker on the front porch. With a slight smile, I return the gesture before turning down the next block.

I spent hours last night weeding through the group chats. Much of it was the same shit but I was able to narrow down which chats included Charlie.

He didn’t participate in many of them, leading me to believe he only spoke to certain people. This included Dixie, Oren, and accounts for Ray, Hunter, Manny_the_Eater, Need 4 Speed and Backdoor Bad Ass, aka Matt.

Although most of these assholes have refused my overtures, this helps me to target the ones I might be able to get more info about Charming Charlie.

Interestingly, Dr. Love and Charlie never appeared in the same thread. Suspicious much?

I’m halfway to the third turn when I pause and glance behind me, the hair on my nape standing on end. There’s nothing out of the ordinary but I pick up the pace anyway.

The rest of the way home, I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched. I’m sweating and panting by the time I get back to my house where I pause to find a package on the front stoop.

Maybe another of Mom’s fruitless attempts to assuage the demons constantly battering at her soul?

After hefting it inside, I look over my shoulder with a shiver before slamming the door closed and locking it. It’s probably my imagination or at least I hope it is, but either way, I’m creeped the fuck out.

Since I have no use for more tin fucking foil, window cleaner or whatever else she concocted, I leave the box by the door and head upstairs.

I have no new messages which is just as well because I grew tired of the threats days ago.

I’m still stir crazy but hesitant to go outside. Instead, I plop down on the couch and stare at the box by the door.

If it is tin foil maybe I can return it? I need the money more than I need twenty more boxes of foil.

I make quick work of the tape and pull back the edges before dropping to my ass and covering my mouth.

What the actual fuck?

With my heart in my throat, I peek into that box again and confirm, there are hundreds of fake rabbit’s feet inside, in every color imaginable. All attached to a key ring, just like they used to sell in the old days.

Before people caught up to the fact that it’s super gross to be carrying around a rabbit's foot. Fake or not.

Glancing at the flap, I see there’s no return address. Someone left this while I was circling the block.

Another warning of course, but from who?

After closing up the box, I shove it in the hall closet and proceed to ignore that it’s there. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that I’ve gotten on this asshole’s nerves, but it is what it is. I can’t go back now.

---