Page 2 of Charlie Takes a Chance

“Who are you?” I whisper.

“Who am I?Whoare you? And what kind of jerky are we talking about?” a wry voice asks. The man steps away from me, moves to the wall, and snaps a light on, the entryway flooding with light. I have to blink several times to adjust to the brightness.

His back is to me when he pulls the headlamp off and tucks it into his coat pocket. My first impression of him is he’s tall. Broad. And I know for a fact he’s strong since he was able to hold me against the wall with such ease. I glance at the wall behind me and see that I had been pressed against a picture frame. There’s no picture or artwork inside of it.

“What are you doing in this house?” I demand as we face each other.

I swallow hard as I’m met with piercing blue eyes. Burglars aren’t supposed to look likethat. Like they could be an ad for Outdoors Sexy R Us. He has brown hair, some scruff on his face, and looks like a male model but with big, broad shoulders.

The man is wearing a brown Carhartt jacket, jeans, and—oh no, what kind of travesty is on his feet? Are those Romeos? I stare at his shoes for far too long. It’s safer than looking at any other part of him.

“What are you doing here? Thought you could come back and finish trashing the place?” His sharp voice has me jerking my gaze back up to his face.

“I’m staying here!” I squeak out. I rub my hands together because I’m not sure what else to do with them.

“The heck you are. I’m not about to let you start squatting in this place again,” he mutters as he reaches for me.

I freeze for a brief moment then realize he plans to grab me. Too bad for me, my self-defense classes were limited to life advice from my dad. It’s like I can hear his voice crystal clear in my head. “They’re gonna kill you anyway, so try to make them do it in the parking lot where there’s security cameras.”

First of all, I’m not in a parking lot. Second, he might be right about the security cameras. I’m going to put up the best fight I can.

I jump forward, jabbing with a quick right. All those boxing classes had better pay off. Too bad he ducks at the last second, and I end up catching him on the shoulder.

He grunts at the hit, mutters something under his breath, then bends down, grabbing me around my bare legs. His fingers press into my bare skin as he hoists me over his shoulder. In about two seconds flat, I’m dangling upside down as he walks out the door.

Never let them take you away from the scene of the crime.

In one last desperate attempt, I grasp the wooden door frame and shriek, “Help! Murder! Police!”

No one’s going to help me. There is no one out here. Unless a prairie dog decides to run to my rescue, I’m flat out of luck.

“I’m going to kill Magnolia,” I mutter as I try to get a better grip on the door frame. The light-colored grain is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, especially considering it’s keeping me from getting dragged off into the wilderness.

The man’s hard shoulder is digging into my stomach, but this doorframe is my last shot of hope. He stops pulling me and takes a small step back. My arms relax, but I keep my hands wrapped around the wooden door frame.

“What was that you said about Magnolia?”

“Magnolia?” I attempt to blow my hair out of my face, but it’s hard to do when you’re hanging upside. “Yeah, I’m going to kill her. She said this would be an easy job for me. She lied. I’m about to get murdered.”

The man shifts back and forth, and I get a prime view of his gluteus maximus in action. If he didn’t want me to look, he shouldn’t be dangling my face three inches away from it.

“How do you know Magnolia?”

“We used to be roommates. And now she’s all engaged to Nash, and they hired me to come out and get this house ready to host some holidays. Joke’s on them. They’ll be hosting a true-crime podcast.” I accentuate that claim with a punch to his back.

And then something shocking happens. The man sets me down.

Abruptly, I might add.

I’m so dizzy from my upside-down excursion that I stumble back and rest a hand against the big beam that’s part of the front porch. It’s definitely not your average treated lumber. This beam alone is worth more than my car—especially with today’s lumber prices.

I turn my attention back to my would-be murderer and point a shaky finger at him. “I’m not going down without a fight.”

“You’re Charlie?” He looks genuinely confused.

I nod my head slowly.

“You’re not the Charlie I expected.”

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