Page 67 of Truce: Declan
Dad: I don’t care that you don’t want to go. You will do as I say.
Dad: Not going to answer me? If you don’t show up, I’m cutting you off. No tuition. No apartment. No money.
The texts continue, but I pause over the one with my name on it. She had told her dad she had a boyfriend and had asked me to attend. That was before the arrest. Had she told her father I was her boyfriend, or had he put it together based on the news reports, because anyone in New York City who had a television or walked past a newsstand wasn’t oblivious to the drama that had recently unfolded?
I scroll up farther, wanting to see what else she may have told him about me.
Charlotte: I’ll go to your stupid event under one condition: you don’t make me a prize for the auction.
Dad: I’ve already put your name on all the flyers. It’ll be great for the charity.
Charlotte: You go and do it. I have a boyfriend.
I glance at the date that the text was sent. It was the day before the arrest. Her father’s response is two days later.
Dad: Noah Reece? I taught you better than to date a hockey player.
Charlotte didn’t answer him after that, probably because she didn’t think I’d still attend the event. And I shouldn’t. I’d be doing her a favor while she screwed me over. But the truth is any opportunity to fuck over another team, especially the Island Bruisers, I’ll take it.
I purse my lips and know I’m screwing with Charlotte, but damn if she doesn’t have to get a little bit of payback for what she did to me. I text her father back from her phone.
Charlotte: I’m coming to your stupid event. The boyfriend is coming too. Be prepared to meet Noah.
I turn off her phone, hoping that satisfies her father while also letting her continue to receive her tuition money. I don’t want to screw up her future or her education. I grab my phone charger and plug it into her cell phone, leaving it in the kitchen with her purse as I bring back the bottle of water and aspirin as intended.
She grumbles and rubs at her forehead. “I don’t remember getting into bed,” she says, seeing me enter the bedroom.
“You passed out in the elevator.” I’ve seen grown men black out from drinking, but I’ve never witnessed any of them faint. “How’s your head?” I should have caught her. I had my arm at her waist, steadying her, and she slipped from my grasp.
Guilt weighs on me.
“Fine,” she whispers, staring up at me. Her gaze glances around the room, taking in the surroundings.
More silence ensues.
“Should I take you to the hospital?” I’m not sure what to do after her fainting spell. Is it from alcohol poisoning?
I’m relieved I brought her back to my place and didn’t put her into a cab to go home alone.
Wordlessly, she shakes her head.
“There’s a bottle of water and some aspirin on the bedside table if you can stomach it.”
“Thanks,” she mumbles and sits up, taking a sip of water along with the pills.
I watch her cautiously, wanting to make sure that she doesn’t choke or vomit on the water and pills. “Are you sure I shouldn’t take you to the ER?”
“I feel fine.” She sits up in bed, and I help guide the pillows behind her while she sips from the bottle of water. “The elevator was a bit stuffy, and I think I just needed more water.” She gently shakes the bottle at me.
She quietly sips the water, finishing the bottle as I stare at her, unwilling to let anything else happen to her on my watch.
“Do you faint a lot while drinking?”
“Always a first time for everything,” she whispers before shuffling back on the mattress and climbing under the covers. “I’m sorry about everything.”
I don’t ask her which time, for tonight, ruining the evening with Jasper, or the arrest. Maybe she’s apologizing because she had my son sent back to the monster who abused him and his mother.
“Sorry doesn’t negate what happened.” I’m still fuming, even when I don’t want to be angry.
