Page 30 of Whatever It Takes

“That’s the understatement of the year, brother.”

Love was a bitch. Whoever said it was easy never loved anyone before. I should have been upset about breaking up with my girlfriend after nine months, but instead all I felt was a sense of relief. Up until recently, I thought I was happy. That all changed the second that fate brought Charlotte and I back together again, and it was becoming more obvious with each passing day that things between us were far from over.

He patted my shoulder. “Just go slow with her, dude. She’s got a lot of shit going on at the moment.”

I wanted to tell him to mind his own fucking business, but he was a friend and he meant well. He knew how important Charlotte was to me, but he also had an obligation to solve this case. He was just as much a part of this mess as I was.

I watched him walk down the driveway and hop in his cruiser. Once he was gone, I took a minute to survey my surroundings, looking for anything that was out of place. I widened my stance and crossed my arms over my chest. If that fucker was watching, I wanted him to know that I wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

I made a mental note to call the security firm where I worked part-time to have them come out and wire up the house with door and window sensors, cameras, and motion detectors. The security system that Grant had set up would be replaced by morning.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Grant Anderson and his lifestyle were a threat. My biggest struggle, however, was getting her to acknowledge that fact.

I walked back into the house and noticed the front living room was empty. The hall light was on, so I rounded up the stairs and followed the sound of two soft voices. I stopped at the second door on the left and peeked my head inside.

Charlotte laid next to Emery on her bed, reading a book in her hands. I rested my weight against the doorframe, watching as the two girls giggled.

“That must be some funny book you’re reading.”

They both lifted their heads in surprise at the sound of my voice.

“We’re reading Junie B. Jones,” Emery stated as if everyone in the world should know who that was. I wandered into her small room and glanced around. It wasn’t what I had pictured in my mind. The walls were light blue with no pink in sight. The only girlie things she had were a couple of American Girl dolls and a gigantic dollhouse. She had board games, puzzles, and an old-fashioned school desk in the corner with a big chalkboard on the wall.

“What’s the book about?” I asked, slinking down on the edge of her twin-sized mattress. Charlotte moved her feet up to make room for me.

“It’s a about a stinky, smelly school bus and a dumb girl who is trying to save a seat for her friend.”

“Sounds like the bus I rode when I was in school. Is it good?”

“It is,” Emery replied. “It’s my turn to read the next chapter. Do you want me to read it to you, Quinn?”

“What?” I feigned shock. “You can read already? You’re only six.”

Emery sat up proudly and rested her body against the headboard. “I’m almost seven and I can read better than anybody in my class.”

“Emery,” Charlotte spoke in a sharp tone. “It’s not nice to brag.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not bragging. I’m telling the truth.”

Charlotte and I both laughed as Emery started reading the next chapter all on her own. I was surprised that they used words like stupid, dumb, and hate in a kid’s book, but was impressed when Charlotte would follow up and ask, “What should she have done or said differently?”

Watching her interact with her daughter was an experience all on its own. She was an incredible mother who was doing a good job at hiding the internal battle that she struggled with. The love for her daughter shined through her big green eyes. You could hear it in her voice. See it with her actions. It made me angry every time I thought about the heartache that they both had to endure. Things were far from over, and it was going to get worse before it got better. I closed my eyes, wishing I could make this all go away for them. It was weird feeling so connected and protective over a little girl that wasn’t even mine.

Emery closed the book once she was finished and placed it on her nightstand. I stood from the bed, ready to say good night when Emery’s question surprised the hell out of me.

“Are you going to sleep in my daddy’s room tonight?”

My back went straight. “What do you mean,your daddy’s room?”

“My daddy had his own bedroom, but he’s not using it anymore. My mom said he has to go live in another house so he could start his time-out, so you can sleep there if you want.”

My eyebrows rose in confusion. I was dumbstruck on the beginning part of that sentence. “Your mom and dad didn’t sleep in the same room?”

“Nope,” Emery replied. “My mom’s room is across the hall. My daddy’s room is the one on the end.”

Well, wasn’t that fucking interesting. There was no way in hell that I was going to sleep in Grant Anderson’s bed. But I couldn’t say that to the sweet little girl who was simply trying to offer me a warm place to rest my head at night.

I stepped forward and reached for Emery’s shoulder and brushed a piece of hair to the side. “Thanks for offering me your dad’s room, but I already have my stuff downstairs and planned on sleeping on the couch.” I dropped my arm and took a step back. “Good night, Peanut. I’ll see you in the morning.” I dropped my arm and took a step back.

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