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"I need you to get in touch with someone at Nashville PD," I say, speaking quietly. Charlotte is supposed to be in the shower, but I don't want her to overhear and freak out. "They need to look into Charlotte's landlord. Quietly."
"Is this about the fire?"
"No. It's about him going into her apartment while she was gone and stealing her panties."
"You're serious."
"As a heart attack."
"Wow," Kelsey says. "That's…wow. You're sure?"
"She is," I say, pacing around the bedroom. Charlotte's bag is in the middle of the floor. The sheets are twisted and tangled up. The entire room smells like her. Now that she's moving in, I feel like I can breathe a little easier. I still have to convince her to date me for real and not just pretend, but at least she's here. At least she's safe.
If it were up to me, her landlord would be breathing through a tube right now. But I made a promise and I'm not going to break it. That doesn't mean I can't hurt him in other ways. By the time I'm finished with him, he won't have a pot to piss in. He doesn't even deserve that much. The motherfucker is lucky I didn't get my hands on him today.
"Wow," Kelsey says again. "That's an entirely new level of creepy and invasive. Is she okay?"
"She will be."
She's been quiet since we left her place, which worries me. Until yesterday, I thought that was her natural state, but I was wrong. Charlotte is exactly like a little fairy, flitting from place to place, curious about everything. She chatters, rambling on about any and everything under the sun. Most of what she says makes no sense, but I love listening to her.
She's high-strung, a certified mess. She's bossy and loud and sees things in a way no one else does. I don't know why she's so afraid to let herself love me, but I'm not going to give up until I change her mind. There's no way I'm letting her go now. I loved her five months ago. Today, I'm not even sure love is strongenough to describe the way I feel about this delightful, magical little fairy.
Knowing that she lived in that apartment by herself for three months is stressing me out. Anything could have happened to her with that motherfucker just a few doors down. I should have been taking better care of her. John should have too. But hell will freeze over before her creepy landlord sees a single hair on her head ever again. And he's shit out of luck if he thinks he's going to sue her for the damages to the apartment. I'll have him in handcuffs, playing Bubba's bitch before the papers even leave the courthouse.
"How are you?"
"Fine. My brain is functioning as good as always."
"I wasn't asking about the concussion."
"I know." I blow out a breath. "I'm fucking livid, but she's here, and she's safe, and that son of a bitch won't ever get near her again."
"Good," Kelsey says. "I'll ask Dorian in security to put me in touch with someone who can look into this quietly. I'm guessing you want to file an official report?"
"Yes, but not yet. I don't want to risk anyone getting their hands on it before I have a chance to talk to her uncle."
"We can ask them to put confidentiality markers on it like usual, but you know how well that usually works out," she says.
"Yeah, I know." Anytime we have to involve the police in anything, they remove personal details to keep our home addresses and shit from leaking. It only works about half the time. Loose lips sink ships, and there are a fucking ton of those in a police department. "Keep it under wraps until we know more about this bastard. I don't want this leaking yet. She's stressed out enough already."
"About the panties?"
"And the fire, and her car, and her landlord, and the photographers, and me," I say. Poor baby has had a hell of time lately. And I'm getting the sense this isn't new for her. She's got shit luck and a habit of falling face-first into trouble. Her life is a disaster. I'm guessing that's partly why she's so worried about letting herself love me. That and whatever the deal is with her mom. But I don't give a shit if she's got the worst luck on the planet. She's mine, and I'm keeping her.
Before the end of the day, she will tell me why she's fighting me so hard.
"Poor Charlotte," Kelsey says.
"Yeah." I rub my hand through my hair. My fingers drift over the knot on the back of my head, and I grimace. It's smaller today, but still tender to the touch. "Shit. I forgot to check in with the team doc."
"I'm aware. I handled it. But you have to check in tomorrow."
"I'll be there."
"Bring Charlotte," she orders me. "I want to meet her."
"Why?"
