Page 68 of Lords of Misrule
He nods at me, and I return it before my focus goes back to her.
“Why were you running?” I demand.
“It was a jog, not a run,” she corrects, and I make a noise. “Because I took a photo of him and the money with an old digital camera I had.” She holds it up and then tosses it back to Brady.
“Charlotte. Jesus, fuck. Do you want to die?” I ask, as the car moves toward the access road.
“I told him I needed it to make sure he wouldn’t fuck me over. He was pissed. Called me a saucy little minx before he spat at me. Then suggested I go back to his truck to get a lesson.” She’s driving in reverse on the gravel like she’s some kind of pro getaway driver, and I think the two of us need to talk more about her life before I met her. Between this and the gun incident the first night, I’m starting to think Charlotte was never as innocent as I thought she was.
“He fucking what? I’ll fucking gut him.”
“Don’t worry. Brady was about to hit him. Like an idiot.” She turns her ire on her brother, her eyes flashing in the rearview.
“He fucking deserves it. All of it and more.” Brady says bitterly, his eyes flashing with rage. I don’t doubt I would have had help tonight if I’d needed to dispose of Steve’s body.
“That’s why I grabbed Brady’s hand and ran. Wasn’t expecting to fucking get garroted when I got back to the car.” She glares at me for half a second before backing onto the road and peels out. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had that on you? Do you have your gun too?”
“Yes, I have my fucking gun. I needed options in case I had to kill him.”
“You were going to kill him for me?” Her voice takes on a soft surprised tone, and she glances at me.
“Obviously. I was hoping he’d think you were just a dumb college kid. Then you went and had to be a smartass. Surprised you didn’t put his own gun to the back of his head.”
She reaches over and puts her hand on my thigh and grins.
“I only do that for you.”
I can’t help the smile that comes to my face, and I slip my hand over hers, covering it and then threading our fingers together. Brady clears his throat, but I tighten my grip on her, running my thumb over her.
“Fuck. I’m just glad you’re okay. I was terrified he was going to hurt you.”
“I’m sure it won’t be the last we see of him, but at least for now I’ve got you back.” She looks up at her brother again. “We’re going to get you a fresh start. Away from him and all his bullshit. You’re safe now.”
He presses his lips together and nods. I’m guessing the last thing he feels yet is safe. Especially not knowing who I am or where he’s headed. But she was right about him being a little like me at his age. I can see it in the defiant set of his shoulders and the wary way he watches me. He’s as protective of her as she’s been of him.
It’s clear the two of them have probably spent a good chunk of their childhood back-to-back in these kinds of them-versus-the-world situations. I hate that I see so much of myself reflected in them. They both should have a better shot than they’ve had at life. Where she’s concerned especially. I want to make it happen, not drag her down with me.
“We can get you both a fresh start.” I hedge my bets as I glance over at Charlotte because if I have to let her go—ifwehave to let her go—I want to know sooner rather than later.
“I already have my fresh start.” She looks at me, her eyes soft and she squeezes my hand with the sort of pressure that goes all the way to my tired broken heart, making it beat again.
Thirty-Five
Charlotte
It’s a new semester, and I’m walking down the art building hall at a breakneck pace. In part because I need to get across campus to get to my next class and in part because Colin’s office is down one of the side halls, and I’ve been doing my best to avoid him. After the holidays were over, I broke up with him via text like a coward. If you could call it breaking up. Really more like ending the mutually exploitative situationship we’d been having—even if he will hopefully never know it was mutual.
“Charlotte, can I speak to you in my office?” Colin’s voice breaks through out of nowhere, and I nearly trip I’m so startled by it. I have to keep it together, learn how to be normal around him—at least until we all graduate in a few months. I’m just hoping he thinks my anxiousness is about our going separate ways and not anything else.
“Um, I’m in a bit of a hurry to get to my next class.”
“It will only take a minute.”
“Can you just tell me here?”
“It’d be better if we spoke in my office.”
“Like I said I have a class, so maybe another time?”
