Page 43 of MissManaged


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Chapter Eighteen

Tobin

Another month flew by and fall was fast approaching. The farm and cheese shop were booming, thanks in no small part to Charlie’s stellar marketing ideas. Her business was also thriving now that she’d overcome her fear of failure and was more confident in her skills. I’d like to think that my guidance was a part of that.

I was on my way to her apartment for our weekly meeting, thinking about how I’d broach the idea I’d been considering for a while. Probably earlier than I should have. But I was going to bring it up during the relationship part of our meeting and see what Charlie thought. I imagined she’d be hesitant at first, and want some time to decide, but hopefully, she’d be ready to move in with me in another month or two. I knew my girl wouldn’t be ready right now, and she’d need that much time to be ready. And that was okay with me.

At least, it was okay with me until I pulled in and found an older man on her front porch, yelling and shaking a finger at her. Looming over her. Scaring her. Threatening her.

I pulled into the driveway behind Charlie’s car, noting the top-of-the-line pickup truck parked on the street, slammed my truck into park and jumped out of the vehicle. The man was so intent on screaming at Charlie that he didn’t notice me as I jogged to the porch. But I could hear him, loud and clear.

“Listen to me, you little bitch. You’re coming home with me and working in my office. This little rebellion of yours has gone on long enough.” The man’s face, presumably belonging to her father, grew redder and redder as he yelled, and spit flew from his mouth.

Charlie didn’t look happy, but it wasn’t the stark terror I would have expected from having someone a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier in her face. And that let me know this wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with this behavior. But it would be the last.

“Back up,” I demanded, stepping into between them and tucking Charlie behind me. “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” he repeated, obviously confused by my appearance. It didn’t take him long to gather his wits, such as they were. “Who are you? Get out of my way and get away from my daughter.”

He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. “I’m her man. You must be her prick of a father.”

“Watch yourself, boy,” he warned, glaring at me and clenching his fists.

“Charlie, go in the house.” I didn’t turn to look behind me, but I felt her there.

“No. He’s my father and my problem.”

“Ha! You aren’t much of a man if you let her talk back to you like that. I know how to keep her in line. You go on and leave her to me.”

Her father’s condescension and mocking tone pushed me over the edge.

“Charlotte, you are breaking your rules. Now, get in the house.” It came out harsher than I would have liked, but I needed to get her away from the crazy man in front of me.

She inhaled sharply at my command but rushed into the house and slammed the door behind her.

“I know all about you from Charlotte,” I said, leaning in, getting into his space. “I know you’re a bully who takes advantage of the women in your life. I know you’re abusive and mean and controlling. And I know that you’re never going to bother Charlotte again. She’s made a life here, with me. She’s not going anywhere with you. Ever.”

Every word I spoke made him angrier and I fully expected him to start throwing punches, but a sheriff’s deputy pulled up and parked before he could.

“What’s going on here, Toby?” Bobby Masters was the head deputy assigned to protect Walker’s Grove. We were so small that we didn’t have our own police force, only a sub-station of the county sheriff’s department. And he was Kenny’s uncle.

“Hey, Bobby. This is Charlotte’s father, and he was just leaving,” I replied without taking my eyes off the man in front of me.

“I am not leaving without my daughter. She’s coming home where she belongs.” He said it with such certainty, such conviction, that I laughed.

“She’s staying here. This is her home. She has a successful business, friends, and a boyfriend. You’re the one leaving.” I stopped myself from getting any closer, afraid I wouldn’t be able to control myself.

“I am her father, and I am in charge of her,” he roared, which made me respond just as loudly, not caring who heard.

“I am her man, and she answers to me now. You have no power over her. I am the one in control. I take care of her. I guide her. Me.” I’d never been so angry in all my life.

“You take care of her?” he replied. “Look at this place she’s living. It’s a shithole.”

“She’s moving in with me. I can provide for her. I own one of the oldest and most successful farming operations around here. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“All right,” Bobby said, pushing us away from each other. “I think it’s time you leave, Mr. Winslow.”

Charlotte’s father looked at him in surprise. “How did you know my name?”

“See, this is a small town, my town, and I make it my business to know everyone who lives here. Charlie’s one of us, so I know her last name. Just like I know she’s twenty-four years old and has full mental capacity, so since she’s not standing out here with her bags packed, I’m going to assume she doesn’t want to leave.” Bobby walked across the porch to the front door. “But just to be safe, I’m going to ask her. Charlie, open the door for a second,” he called.

She must have been standing right there because she opened it immediately.

“Hello, Deputy Masters,” she said, focusing solely on Bobby.

“Hey, Charlie. I just need to confirm a few things. Is this man your father?”

She glanced at where Bobby was pointing and nodded.

“And do you want to leave with him?”

“No. I do not. And I’d like to press charges for trespassing and get a restraining order. I asked him to leave multiple times and he refused.”

I was so proud of her for standing up for herself while her father was glaring at her. I wanted to go give her a hug, but I forced myself to stand still. I tried to will her to look at me so I could at least give her an encouraging look, but she remained locked on Bobby.

“Well, I can certainly arrest him and take him down to the station, if that’s what you want, but he won’t be held in jail.” Bobby looked at me, then at her father, and then back at Charlie, who didn’t back down. “Okay, I’ll call for a tow for his truck, so it’s at the station and not parked in front of your apartment.”

“Thank you, Deputy,” Charlotte said, and then closed the door.

Bobby gave me a quizzical look, and I shrugged. Charlotte probably didn’t want to see her father get arrested. Or she didn’t want to be where he could hurl more insults at her. Either way, it was better that she was safely inside.

“Toby, why don’t you go sit in your truck while I take care of this,” Bobby suggested as he unhooked his handcuffs and took hold of Mr. Winslow’s right arm. “You have the right…”

As much as I would have liked to be front and center, Bobby’s suggestion was more like an order, so I hustled out of the way and got in my truck. The older man sputtered and protested, but ultimately Bobby got him in the back of the patrol car without too much trouble.

I waited until the car disappeared down the street before I got out and jogged back to Charlotte’s front door and knocked. When it didn’t open after a minute, I knocked again, louder this time. Maybe she’d gone to lie down? The stress of confronting her father probably did her in.

Another minute passed with no answer, so I tried the knob and found it locked, and then rang the doorbell. Finally, I heard her on the other side.

“Hey,” I said, when she opened the door. “Were you lying down?”

“No,” she replied, but said nothing else and didn’t step back so I could come in.

“Can I come in? I’m sure that was scary for you.”

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