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She swallows.
“I had some money from waitressing, and I slept in shelters for the most part, trying to earn some more money by doing odd jobs, enough that I could leave town. Six months after I managed to get some money together, I hid in a motel for a few more days getting my travel plans together, but Nick found me. He beat me up, worse than usual. His creditors had been angry at him. He was so angry that day.”
Charlotte’s body shakes violently at the memory, and I sit down and gather her in my arms, letting her finish, my own rage on a tight leash.
“I was bleeding from everywhere,” she says faintly. “I remember thinking that I it wasn’t possible for the red rug in that room to get bloodier than that. But it did.”
A shuddering breath that makes my gut burn.
“He left after two days. I knew he was going to get them, but I couldn’t – I would rather have killed myself than be whored out.”
Tears choke her voice and I feel like a monster for bringing up a memory that she clearly spent years burying.
“That’s enough, Charlotte,” I beg her. “You don’t have to tell me.” She shakes her head.
“No. No, you don’t know John. He’ll twist up what actually happened, and I can’t bear for you to think that I killed somebody. Because I didn’t – I did something else.”
I let her breathe, let her grab whatever composure she is able to.
“There was a phone in the room. I knew that Nick had been stealing from the gang, Dark Silver for years. He knew one of their crew members, and he was stealing some of their shipments, a precise amount every month. I don’t know what it was. I just knew about the theft. We used to live in that area for a while and that’s how I found out.”
Her eyes are fixed on her hands.
“I called up one of the shops that I knew belonged to one of their top management, or members, whatever. A woman answered and she listened to me. I told her about Nick stealing from them and gave her names and numbers of when and where he picked them up from. Everything I knew, I told her. She asked me who I was, but I couldn’t tell her. She asked me if I was in trouble, and I told her yes. I think I passed out after that.
“Nobody came for me. At some point, I managed to get myself to a hospital. I was there for a month. That’s where I met Vera. She’s the original owner of the bakery I run. She was also the woman on the phone. She told me that they tracked me down after a lot of work. She introduced me to Miguel, the leader of the gang. He told me they owed me a debt and I could call on them for anything.”
She is silent for a while, and I can tell she is trying to find the words to continue.
“I never knew what happened to Nick. But while I was still in the hospital, a day after Vera showed up, John showed up. I told him part of the truth, up till where Nick left me in the motel room. But John didn’t believe me. Even when the doctors vouched for me, saying that I wasn’t in any condition to lift a pen, murdering a grown man was far too impossible, John didn’t believe them. He wanted me to come down to the station. And if you don’t believe me, you can ask for Doctor Thomas at Redmond Hospital. He still works there, and so do some of the nurses. They stopped John from forcibly taking me with him. When Vera found out, she whisked me out of there.”
My heart breaks for her. It seems life threw one curveball after another at Charlotte.
Anger and self-loathing are also prominent in my mind. If I hadn’t done what I had, she might have turned to me for help. While I had been busy sulking, she had been trying to survive, alone.
“Was Vera—?” Charlotte shakes her head.
“She was related to Miguel in some way, but she wasn’t directly involved with the gang. But that’s the reason I feel safe in the neighborhood. Since the bakery belonged to Vera, and the gang promised me a safe haven, nobody messes with the shop or me.”
I am quiet, and then I ask, “Did you think that me knowing any of this would change my feelings for you?”
Charlotte’s cheeks turn red, but she looks away.
“Can you see how different our lives are, Philip? I live and interact with the underbelly of Chicago. You’re one of the elites. The feelings that you’re talking about are stemming more from guilt. You don’t want me. You deserve someone who can understand you and your life.”
I feel a flicker of irritation.
“So, you’re going to do the same thing I did, huh? Push me away because you don’t think you’re good enough for me?”
Her eyes widen, and I see her tamp down her indignation.
“Not good enough for you? I don’t have that low of an opinion of myself, Philip! I’m just saying that we move in two difference social circles and we don’t have much in common.”
I growl at her, “You know, it seems that you’re using what happened to you as an excuse to push me away, while the real reason is that what I did hurt you, and you don’t trust me not to do it again! I will always hold myself responsible for what you went through, Charlotte. Even if that’s not what you intend. But it doesn’t make you ‘different’ from me! And you know it.”
When she opens her mouth to refute me, nothing comes out and she just hits my chest with her undamaged wrist.
I hadn’t known I would hit the mark with such ease. But now that she had unwittingly revealed her reason for avoiding me, I wasn’t going to let this go.
