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My forehead pinched at her cold tone and body language, and it was then I noticed what she was doing.
Her head was bowed and her arm was wrapped around her waist.
She was trying to be invisible. She was fucking hiding. From me.
“Why didn’t you come say hi or let me know you were here?”
A soft exhale blew past her lips, and she finally glanced up at me. Those blue eyes raged with anger . . . I just didn’t know who she was angry with or why. “I didn’t know I had to check in with you when I went places, especially if you were going to be there too.” Her glare darted to something behind me before touching on me again. “Besides, you were busy.”
When she started turning around again, I grabbed her arm and pulled her back a few steps with me so we were away from everyone else in the kitchen.
“Let go,” she demanded, her voice just above a whisper, but still firm.
“What the hell? You just got here and you’re already mad at me? There’s no way I could’ve done something to piss you off when this is the first time I’m seeing or talking to you all day.”
She shook her head and tried to force a smile, but it immediately fell. “I’m not mad at you, Deacon.”
“Charlie.”
“I’m not,” she said again.
I didn’t believe her, but I knew with all of our friends and her brother in this house, she wasn’t going to tell me the truth right now. With a sigh, I looked around and asked, “Where’s Keith?”
“In the downstairs guest room,” she replied protectively. “He’s still sleeping from the drive over.”
I wanted to question her tone again, but before I got the chance to, a familiar voice called out, and I turned to look at a chalk-white Keith.
“Mommy? I don’t feel—” He abruptly stopped talking, and his eyes widened.
Charlie hissed a curse as she took off toward Keith and scooped him up in her arms. She kept running with me right behind her. They made it to the bathroom, but only to the tub before Keith started throwing up, and I froze.
I didn’t know what to do.
Keith was sick, and I needed to help him and I needed to help Charlie, and I didn’t know what to do.
“It’s okay, baby,” Charlie whispered over and over again as she helped Keith lean over the tub.
“What do I do?”
“Get out,” she said harshly before whispering to Keith again.
“Charlie, let me help.”
She turned her head to glare at me, and repeated, “Get out.”
Soon Grey was in the bathroom with us, and with a gentle push of her hands, I stumbled out to the hall to wait.
And wait.
After a few minutes, Grey left with a suggestion that sounded more like a warning not to go in the bathroom, and about ten minutes later, Charlie came out carrying Keith.
“I need to take him home,” she said as she walked past me. “He’s burning up, I don’t want anyone else to get sick.”
“Okay, then let me help you. I can drive y—”
“I’ve got it,” she said in a monotone voice.
And it was driving me fucking crazy.
