Page 54 of Behind the Cascades
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hayes
“Stealing another one of my shirts?” I ask, grinning from the doorway of our bedroom as I watch Charlie change into something more comfortable. I just picked the girls up from their spa day and delivered them to their own houses. Charlie is practically glowing and more than a little tipsy.
“Shouldn’t they beourshirts by now?” She raises an eyebrow while pulling one of my new shirts over her head.
“Like the ones that you stole from me before I left?”
A sneaky smile plays on her lips. “That was years ago. I need to start my new collection.”New collection?
“Wait, what happened to all the others? Charlotte Amelia! Did you burn them again?”
She scoffs back, “First of all, it was one time. Second, it was Drew’s sweatshirt. Third, well, I don’t really have a third other than he pissed me off.” Senior year, a friend was having a bonfire and Charlie showed up in barely anything. Drew was pissed, tore off his sweatshirt and forced her to put it on. The second he looked away, she tore it off and threw it on the fire.Needless to say, we dragged her out of the party right then and there.
I shake my head but grin at her in response.
“I would never burn your stuff!” She says as she sauntered over to give me a kiss, wearing only my shirt and a pair of underwear.
“Fine, then where is it?”
She points toward our closet. “In a box, in the attic. I honestly forgot all about it until you brought it up.”
My jaw drops. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up before but I’ve been wondering what happened to everything since I got back. “For a year! It’s been up there this whole time?”
She nods and shrugs. “More like two.”
I flip the lights on in our closet and the one that leads to the attic. “I’m getting it and reclaiming allmystolen property.”
She laughs from behind me as I pull the string and the door opens. “Soooo dramatic!”
After I pull the metal ladder down, I turn to see her sitting cross-legged on our bed. With a wink, I add, “You love me and you know it.”
“Just get it already so we can watch a movie.” She flops back on the bed in a buzzed huff.
Chuckling, I step up onto the ladder and go in search of my stuff. My head is just about to crest into the attic when a whooshing sound comes from right above it. Instincts take over. My head automatically ducks while I descend back down the steps. My right hand is already pulling my Sig out of its side holster as the sound of splintering wood comes from above.
My feet hit solid ground, and at the same time, I trained my pistol and eyes on the hole in the ceiling.
The head of an axe—my axe, to be specific—is smashed into the 2x6 wood base that supports the attic door. The very spot that my head was just at.
Grunts of rage begin to sound from above as the person tries to yank the axe out of the wood. They’re just out of sight, but my SIG is already trained on where I think their chest is. The second the axe is free, I see that it’s Carter standing there. He lifts it above his head once more and I fire three shots. All three hit him in the chest in quick succession.
My body stays locked; my SIG trained on where he collapsed, not moving on the stairs.
Only Charlie's loud shriek coming from the bedroom breaks the ensuing silence.
"Sunshine, call 911." I calmly instruct, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I hear her fumbling through the bedroom and then answering the questions the dispatcher asks. Her voice sounds panicked as she gives our address. I wish I could go to her and comfort her, let her know everything is handled and that she's safe, but I'm not moving from this spot until someone trained is here to take my place. I know each shot hit accurately, but I've seen adrenaline overcome mortal wounds before.
I briefly considered going up the ladder the rest of the way, but there's no way in hell I'm offering any life-saving measures to the man who's been terrorizing Charlie. If anything, I hope the medics take their sweet time getting here and he's pronounced dead on arrival. Dark? Morbid? Unethical? Probably all of those things. But I've killed for a lot less than protecting someone I love. If I can live with those deaths, then I can certainly live with letting this man suffer the consequences of his actions.
"Hey Char, make sure you put some more clothes on."
A small laugh that sounded more like a sob sounded from our room, but based on the shuffling and drawers being thrown open, she must be listening.
Sirenssound from the driveway a few minutes later, and I hear Charlie running to answer the door.
