Page 91 of What We May Be

“Of what?”

Wallace shoved her out onto the buckled wooden slats of the bridge. “You’re power hungry, ambitious, and worst of all, you ruin the lives of good men.”

“Lady Macbeth.”

“One after another.” Wallace kicked Charlie’s legs out from under her, sending her crashing to her knees. “You call Cal to rescue you from that party, and he races to you in the middle of a storm because he’d do anything for you, and he kills your mother. Leaves Annie without a mom.”

Charlie gulped. “How did you find out?”

“Cal told me. I was his friend, his partner, he needed someone to talk to, and he didn’t want to hurt you. He never forgave himself for what happened to Alice or for sending Sean away. He sent his best friend away because he was protecting you. Always you,” he spat as he paced back and forth on the bridge, armed and looking increasingly agitated. “And let’s not forget your case—your determination to prove yourself to the FBI—got my partner and my chief killed.”

“Wallace, please.” Her voice cracked, that particular wound tearing open. “You have to know I didn’t want that to happen. I never wanted them to get hurt.”

Wallace charged, pointing the gun directly at Charlie’s forehead. “But they wouldn’t have been there if not for you. They wouldn’t have died.”

Charlie hung her head, unable to stare down the barrel of the gun or the truth. “I’m so sorry.”

The gun safety clicked back on, and Charlie looked up as Wallace tucked the weapon into his waistband at the small of his back and resumed pacing. “You know, I ran into Sean at the funeral. I saw how he looked at you and Trevor. The way Trevor looked at you. They still love you. I thought maybe Cal’s letter would do the trick, would expose the truth and tarnish the Charlie shine, but nope, they still fucking do your bidding.”

“You knew about the letter?”

Wallace sneered. “Who did you think convinced him to write it? And who did you think was there helping Annie clean out your dad’s attic when she found the real case file from the night your mother died.” He jabbed himself in the chest. “Me!”

Fuck, so Annie knew already too. And Charlie hadn’t been the one to tell her. Another sin to atone for if she got them out of this alive.

“You know what’s the kicker? She was mad at Cal, not you. Never Charlie. She didn’t want to compromise your life, your career, or your love.” Wallace ranted on, his voice sounding forlorn and broken. “Why do you get all the love—friends, family, colleagues, your exes—but I get none? I just want to love her.”

The pieces began to click. “Annie?”

“I’ve loved her since I set foot in the library as a freshman at HU, and she helped me find the copy of Shakespeare’s Four Tragedies I needed. She introduced me to Cal, and I knew what it was like to have a real friend. I joined the department and got to work with Mitch too, someone I liked and respected. And then you took them all from me.”

Turning her face away, Charlie cursed herself for having missed this. She suspected Wallace had had a crush on Annie, but she thought he’d moved on, especially after Annie had gone public with… Jaylen. Is that what had triggered Wallace? Together with Cal’s death? The two people he was closest to. Gone. Charlie knew something about that sort of loss.

“You don’t get to leave town and get your happily ever after,” he seethed. “You’re guilty. You have to pay for your crimes.”

As Wallace’s misery swung back to anger, he swung her direction with the knife again, and Charlie flailed for anything to stall him. “Why Professor Marshall?”

“To help Annie’s friend. To clear the way so Trevor could stay here. That’s what she would want.”

“And Julian and Craig?”

“Julian because he hurt another of Annie’s friends. And to throw you off the trail.” He grinned, full of malice. “Craig because he was evil and because he gave you the opening to take everything from Annie. You just keep hurting her. The only way I can help her, maybe get away from that man you set her up with, is to get you out of her life for good.”

“Wallace, this isn’t love. This is obsession.”

He closed the distance between them, yanking Charlie up by her hair and holding the knife to her throat. “You do not get to tell me what love is. You, who takes and takes and takes and never gives anything. You don’t know what love is.”

“Yes, she does,” came the last voice Charlie wanted to hear right then.

Wallace released her hair and spun them around to face Annie, who stood at the edge of the bridge.

“Annie, go back to the boat,” Charlie urged, fear straining her voice. “Please.”

Annie ignored her and locked eyes with Wallace as she slowly approached. “Charlie left me in that boat just now because she loves me, because she wanted to protect me. She made sure after Mom’s death, after Dad’s and Cal’s, that I had people to support and love me. She’s stayed here in Hanover and is considering passing up a career-making job and a second chance at love and her own happiness to keep our family together and the truth about our mom from being exposed. To make sure I’m happy. That’s how much she loves me.”

Wallace’s lip trembled, and Annie took a step closer, almost beside them, drawing his attention away from the direction she’d come. On purpose it would seem, as Charlie glimpsed Sean and Trevor cresting the embankment at the end of the bridge.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Wallace’s attention focused on her while Sean ducked behind one of the trestle pillars and Trevor inched toward them. “But do you think I’d want you to hurt Charlie? She’s all the family I have left. Please don’t take her away from me. That’s not what I want.”

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