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Chapter Forty-two
Dinner was tense that night. Blake didn’t understand why everyone tiptoed around Charli, but he found himself doing the same and not knowing why.
Once it got to the point where she’d grunted a negative response to Kayla, who’d held out one of the take-out Chinese containers, he’d had enough. He’d seen the girl’s worried face fill with sorrow, tears being blinked away.
Glancing over at John, who’d been mostly silent, acting like a puppy with his tail stuck up his ass, he lifted an eyebrow, silently questioning.
John just shook his head and looked down at his plate where he’d pushed the food from one side to the other without much of it getting to his mouth.
Blake checked out Angie and saw that the same girl he’d met days ago had returned, the one who’d lived in misery, and it came off in waves from her sour attitude. She’d disappeared for a little while and her replacement had been a sweet kid.
What the hell happened while he’d taken time for the job?
After the disturbing news he’d gotten earlier, he couldn’t stand the friction here, too. They needed to clear the air.
“Okay, gang, what’s up? You’re all acting like the world’s on the brink of war, and Charli’s the one with the red button.”
The three doghouse culprits looked at each other and then peeked at Charli who didn’t lift her head, just kept shoveling food into her mouth and chewing. Silence cut through the tense atmosphere until all you could hear were the stupid annoying wind chimes by the pool next door.
Blake felt his annoyance turn to anger. He banged his hand on the table, and just as he’d intended, everyone jumped. “Listen, we’re all under a lot of stress, so I’m not gonna get too annoyed. But we need to stick together, talk about our worries. Not turn all quiet and moody.” Staring directly at Charli, he waited for her to break.
No one moved. The smells of the sweet and sour pork balls hung in the air, interacting with the strain oozing from the girls and the old man. Finally, Charli lifted her head and pointed first at her grandfather, her finger shaking with suppressed emotion.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Dammit, I said I was sorry, Charli. For the tenth time, I’m sorry already. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“A good idea?” Her voice sat one octave higher than a man with his pecker in the grip of a maniac. “To go along with Angie and buy a fu – a bloody piece of shit gun from scumbags like those two? You’re kidding, right?”
“Look, sweetheart—”
“Oh, don’t you sweetheart me.” This time Charli’s tone sunk, a snake slithering on the ground kind of low. She shoved her chair from the table and went to stand next to the cowering old man. Blake watched him shrink from her fury, and not knowing what the hell they talked about, he nonetheless had to stop her from carrying on.
“Charli! Enough. I said we should talk over the situation not intimidate and yell.”
Suddenly, as if his words had broken through her passion, Charli’s face cleared and her expression changed from anger to fear. Her voice shook with so much pain that they all sat frozen.
“Don’t you understand, Popsicle? If anything had happened to you, because of me, I’d never be able to live with that. You’ve got to know. And you two,” she pointed at Kayla who was openly crying now and then to Angie who’d somehow moved to stand protectively beside her friend, “How could you have put yourselves in so much danger?”
“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to Poppa John, Charli. I swear.” Angie’s white face and wobbling lips told their own story.
“So you’d have let them beat on you, is that what you’re saying? It was close, Angie, so close. I’ve never been so terrified in all my life.” Her voice finally gave over to the tears she’d been forcing behind her fortified wall, but once it crumbled, nothing could stop the flow.
She doubled over, holding her stomach. Her moans scared Blake as much as they seemed to terrify the rest. God, if the woman broke, if her PTSD finally forced a breakdown, they’d be sunk.
He knew what none of the others did. The killer had found out which school Kayla attended. It was just a matter of time before he came for them here.
Though Prowler and the Seattle team had finally sent instructions for the next safe house, he feared it might be too late.
Stepping close, Blake picked Charli up in his arms and thanked God when her arms tightened around him, and she hid her face in his neck.
John rushed to caress her shoulder but stopped, sensing he needed to let Blake take care of the situation. He embraced the other two instead.
Blake nodded his reassurance to the small huddle, and then he carried her to the master bedroom for privacy and peace. They needed her to be strong again. She was their pivotal force, their mainstay… the person they all loved.
