Page 17 of Shadowing Charlotte
"Fuck this. Fuck you, Lottie. I knew you were moving up here to fuck around!" He yanked up his jeans and pulled on his shirt as I sat there in a daze, still pressing my hand to my cheek. Even when he stormed from the room, I hadn't moved. It wasn't until I heard the glass shattering outside that I managed to get my limbs working.
"Adam, stop it!" I screamed as I stumbled out of the house and toward the driveway, watching him smash my Jeep windows with the tire iron in his hand. When he turned toward me, a look of fury in his eyes, I backed away, fleeing into the house. With frantic fingers, I twisted the lock behind me, my heart pounding in my ears. I scrambled to find my phone, my hands shaking as I typed three numbers into the keypad.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"My—my boyfriend…" I choked out. I didn't even know what to say, the words tumbled out in disarray, Jeep, hit me, crazy…
By the time the police arrived, Adam was gone, and I'd collected myself enough to give them a report.
"Are you going to file charges?" The officer finally asked after he'd written everything down.
"No…" I finally whispered. "I don't think he'll ever speak to me again. I'll be fine…"
"You should think about it. Maybe consider a restraining order," he suggested softly, "I've seen things like this get out of hand."
"I'll think about it…" I agreed hesitantly. I didn't want to make a big deal about it. Adam was gone and he wouldn't be back. I would call Daddy and the insurance company in the morning.
"Alright, miss. Call us if you need anything else." He handed me a copy of the report and gave me a nod, before climbing into the car with his partner. When they were gone, I locked the door, sinking to the floor against it. What was supposed to be a night of orgasms and comfort had instead become a night of violence and shock.
I glanced at the clock and sighed. It was almost two in the morning. I called the number to Hewart and pressed three. "Saydiah, it's Charlotte. I'm so sorry, but I'm going to be late on Monday. My car was vandalized, so I have to get a rental and deal with insurance… I'll be there before lunch, I promise." Hanging up, I dragged myself back to my room.
The card from Alexander had been crumpled, lying on the floor. I didn't know what to do with myself. I sank to my knees, picking up the card and running it between my fingers, trying to straighten it out. My boyfriend had just attacked me, and the only thing I could think to do was save the ruined card. For some reason, the sight of it hurt more than the fact that my relationship with Adam was over. What the fuck was wrong with me?
Chapter fourteen
Alexander
Iwoke on Zane's couch with my dick aching and my head throbbing. Tarot had been absolutely insane. I couldn't remember anything after the fourth cup of whiskey and the second round we'd had in the private room.
Lilly was a wildcat; she'd been exactly what I needed to clear my head. In fact, she'd been almost perfect. I found it sort of odd that she had begged me to take pictures of her, but I guessed exhibitionism was one of her kinks. She'd even let me call her Charlie before I'd blacked out.
With the headache, came an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Why had I settled for fantasy when the real thing had left her bathroom window open for me?
I flicked open the app on my phone, but there were no new messages. My stomach felt like a lead anchor had been dropped into it. As I stared at Charlotte's profile on Facebook, a picture loaded on the feed.
Charlotte had been tagged in a photo with someone named Mirium. Her arm was around Charlotte's shoulder. Both of them were smiling at the camera, plates of breakfast and glass flutes in front of them.
Good brunch is the best cure after a shitty night.
Shitty night? Had Charlotte gone out again after we had been messaging? Was it Mirium that had a shitty night? Another upload. The pair singing along to the song playing in the restaurant. They were laughing and drinking mimosas, but the happiness in their voices didn't meet Charlotte's eyes. When she turned her head to look at the waitress, the phone nearly fell from my fucking hands. She had a bruise across her cheek, barely visible beneath her makeup.
I was off the couch in an instant, hitting the call button on the app. It rang once, before being declined.
Pick up.
I called again and it was declined once more.
Are you alright?
Charlotte?
The little icon popped up, telling me she'd seen the messages, but she didn't bother to reply. Something had changed. Something had happened. The guilt was overwhelming, washing over me like a tidal wave. Something had happened, and I had been too busy putting my dick in someone else. Fuck. I felt like an asshole.
Hungover and disoriented, I was in no position to drive, but it didn't stop me. I was sitting across the street from Charlotte's house before I came out of my daze. Her Jeep was gone, but her driveway was covered in glass fragments. I waited. And waited.
It was nearly two when a car pulled up to the curb and Charlotte got out. She leaned against the door, talking to the driver for a few moments, a fake grin plastered across her face. The car pulled away and Charlotte's smile fell, her shoulders sagging as she followed the pathway up to the door. By the time I'd climbed out of the car, she'd entered the house.
I didn't bother with knocking, too worked up to care. Typing in the code, I shoved the door open, finding the house eerily quiet.
