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If only he knew.
I don’t wait around for them to leave before I turn and head toward the stairs.
Michael gives me a look, which I know means he has my back. He’ll settle shit down here, and we’ll talk later. Well, he’ll talk later.
Needing to get back to my girl, I quickly take the stairs two at a time.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Charlie
I force my eyes away from the closed door. I can’t lay here and wait for him any longer. Daniel has been gone for twenty minutes, and although I’m unable to hear anything from the kitchen two floors below, something tells me that it’ll be a while before he returns.
His warning rings through my head as I leave the bed, but the truth is, he didn’t need to say the words aloud. I didn’t want to leave. I hadn’t even thought about it since I tried to crawl out of bed earlier, and even then, my effort was halfhearted.
Self-loathing rolls over me, and the need to wash it away is too strong to ignore.
The hot water is soothing, and I feel a sense of peace for the first time since Daniel left me alone.
I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying how the heat seeps into my body and washes away my sins.
But it can’t last forever, and the water eventually runs cold.
I leave the steam-filled bathroom, wrapping a towel around my chest. My eyes avoid the fogged mirror as I pass. The T-shirt from last night stays crumpled on the wet floor.
I want my things, my own clothes.
Splats sound when water drips off the end of my hair and onto the hardwood floors.
I can hear talking outside. Maybe it’s Daniel?
Needing to know where he went, I walk to the window, and my heart drops. My stomach knots at what I see.
A police cruiser sits in the driveway. Do they know? Are they here for me?
I don’t want to leave.
My eyes tear up at the thought, and I’m once again filled with self-loathing.
My soaked hair hangs in my face, and the water running off it thankfully hides my tears. I don’t even know why I’m crying.
I should want this.
I stand at the window and try to look around outside. How many officers are there? Surely, there should be more?
They’re leaving!
Two officers step off the porch, saying their goodbyes. They head to their car quickly.
One of them waves his hand around, and he looks pissed. He’s older, maybe mid-fifties. He jabs a finger back to where they were before hitting the roof of the car. The force of it makes water splash up.
The younger of the two looks up with a roll of his eyes, but they widen the minute he spots me.
My chest heaves. I reach out my hand, flattening my palm against the window. The pane is cold beneath my skin.
Suddenly, my body heats. The feel of bare skin touching my shoulders makes goosepimples spread down my arms.
Daniel.
