Текст книги "Push"

Автор книги: Olivia R. Keane

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Time seemed suspended as Katherine took a deep, gasping breath. “That’s it!” She threw the rest of her drink in Declan’s face, drenching him. “Get out of my house!” she yelled through gritted teeth.

“As you wish, Mistress Rouseault.” Declan exited the room as quickly as he could. He’d arrived with the intention of torturing Katherine as she’d done to Charlotte. In the hallway, he found himself momentarily lost. His heart pounded, blood racing through his veins. He felt panicked, out of his depth, concerned that Katherine would tip over the edge of sanity and harm him or worse, go after Charlotte again.

Exiting the house, Declan made a quick phone call, and then returned to the shelter of his car.

***

Charlie managed to sit up in bed propped up on several pillows, no small feat considering the pain in her ribs. But after a few days, and a move completely out of ICU, she was able to sit up and move around a bit. Even though her lips were still healing, she found herself able to eat and, more importantly, talk!

Declan had gone out to meet Mikki, Aaron, Owen, Lila, Emerson, and even Anabelle, and he was bringing them all back to visit with her. Charlie was extremely self-conscious about how her lips still looked; mangled by some madman’s needle, but she was so excited to have visitors she didn’t care. All the lip liner and lipstick in the world couldn’t hide the scars and bruises, but she prayed they would heal soon.

The door opened and Charlie eagerly glanced up to see everyone spill though the door.

Declan led the way and right behind him were her sister, Lila, and Anabelle. They all hugged her gently and told her how much better she looked. They were completely lying, but she loved them for it.

“How are you feeling?” Mikki asked anxiously.

“Better.” At Declan’s skeptical look, she flushed. “Okay. Not wonderful, but I’m better. I feel like I can breathe easier and the swelling in my throat and lips has gone down. I am able to talk and eat.”

“That’s wonderful, Charlie!” Anabelle exclaimed. “We’ve all been really worried about you.”

“I’m so sorry you had to postpone the wedding, Mikki,” Charlie said, her stare haunted. “I feel like it’s my fault. I’m the one who pissed them off.”

Miki shook her head, gripping Charlie’s hand. “You’re not to blame for their actions, Charlie.”

“Got that right,” Declan growled.

“Have you set a new date yet?” Charlie asked.

“We’re working on it. I’m not planning anything until I know you’re well enough to still be my maid of honor.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said. “But, don’t wait on me. I don’t want to be the one keeping you from your big day.”

“Don’t be silly. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Mikki said, putting her hand on Charlie’s. “I want you there! It’s your fault I’m marrying him in the first place.” Mikki poked Aaron in the ribs with her free hand.

“I don’t suppose you smuggled me in some of Ciatti’s pasta, did you?” Charlie asked hopefully. “I’m starving to death and all these nurses will let me have is Jell-O and chicken broth. You know how I feel about foods that have dance moves. Creeps me out.”

Declan shot her a look of reprimand. “No real food yet, Charlotte. Not until the day after next. Even then you’ll have to be cautious and not overdo it.”

Charlie sighed. “You can’t blame me for trying. Maybe Mikki will sneak me in some cheesecake when you’re not looking. You know, the kind from Enrico’s?” As she said it, Charlie sent a pleading look in Mikki’s direction that had everyone laughing.

“I’m on it,” Mikki said firmly, shooting Declan a glare.

Declan shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Just remember you have to get it past me.”

They all laughed, and Charlie felt a happiness that she had missed. Everything would be okay. I can get through this. The doctor even said she could go home in a few days if everything continued to improve. They talked more, laughing, joking, and reminiscing with Charlie until she began to yawn, fatigue settling over her. Declan noticed and sent a not-so-subtle look in Aaron’s direction. He took the hint, herding Mikki and everyone else out of the room.

“I wish you would stay longer,” Charlie said mournfully. “It’s so lonely here.”

“We’ll be back soon,” Mikki promised. “And we’re bringing cheesecake.”

Declan bent over her bed, kissing her softly on the mouth. “Charlotte, I’m going to walk them out, and then I’ll be right back to tuck you in for the night.”

“Oh that sounds perfect,” Charlie sighed. “I don’t suppose you’d read to me?”

Declan grinned. “Anything for you, my sweet Charlotte.”

“Anything except food you mean,” Charlie grumbled.

He caressed the side of her head, giving her an affectionate pat. “Yes, anything except food.”

“Fine. Go.” She waved him away, settling back against her pillows. The visit had exhausted her. Maybe she wasn’t quite as recovered as she wanted to believe. Still, she was glad they had come to visit.

Declan turned, quietly closing the door behind him. Charlie sighed and closed her eyes, giving in to her exhaustion. She’d just drifted off when she heard her hospital door open, revealing two men in suits. Charlie recognized them as the detectives who’d questioned her when she came to. Charlie didn’t recall much from their interview. She’d been groggy from all the pain medication. Maybe they were coming to tell her they’d arrested Griffin and Katherine. This time she was pressing charges. She wanted the both of them to be locked up for what they’d done.

“Miss Flynn, we’d like to ask you a few more questions if you don’t mind. I’m Detective Collins and this is my partner Detective Marra. I’m not sure you remember us from last time.”

“I do remember. Of course, I can answer more questions. Have you made an arrest yet?”

“That’s what we need to discuss with you, Miss Flynn.” Collins spoke in an even tone.

The looks on their faces immediately put Charlie on guard. She glanced between them, trying to gauge what was happening.

“We’ve arrested Marc Griffin last night, but Katherine Porter was found dead in her home this morning,” Collins stated bluntly. “We’d like to know who murdered her.”

***

Fear raced through Charlie’s veins. Oh God, surely Declan hadn’t … He wouldn’t. Would he? Panic clutched her heart, and she had a hard time breathing.

“Are you okay, Miss Flynn?” Marra questioned her. “Do you need some water?”

“Yes, please. Thank you,” Charlie said faintly. “And, of course, I’m not okay. You just informed me that the woman who assaulted me was found dead.” Another thought occurred to her. She glared sharply at the detectives. “You said you want to find out her murdered her. How do you know it was murder? And surely you don’t think I’m capable of doing harm to someone. I’m hardly capable of hurting anyone in my current state.”

“Miss Flynn, you’re not a suspect,” Detective Marra offered in a bland tone.

But Charlie knew Declan would be a suspect. He made no secret of his rage over what had happened. “What about Griffin? Is he a suspect? He could have turned on her after all.”

“No. Mr. Griffin was being held in question around the approximate time of Ms. Porter’s death. However, Mr. Pearse is being considered as a person of interest in this case.”

Panic surged, making her light-headed. Charlie gripped the bed rail because it felt like she’d fall right over the side. Declan couldn’t have possibly done it, could he? He was with her last night.

“Declan was here with me,” Charlie said firmly. “You can ask any of the hospital staff. He was here reading to me, and then slept on that couch over there.”

Marra hurriedly scribbled notes on a memo book while Collins continued to stare at her. “Pretty convenient that the woman who attacked you turns up dead.”

“What are you intimating, Detective Collins?” she snapped.

“Well, your boyfriend there decided to take it upon himself to locate Mr. Griffin. We’re just thinking he might have done the same with Ms. Porter but let things get the best of him. It happens. Revenge is an all-consuming thing sometimes.”

“If you’d done your job in the first place, Mr. Pearse wouldn’t have had to find Mr. Griffin for you. I’ve told you already that Declan was with me. If you don’t believe me, there are plenty of others who will corroborate my story.”

“Oh we will, Miss Flynn,” Collins said grimly.

The door opened, and Declan walked in abruptly halting when he spotted the two detectives. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

“Mr. Pearse, we’re questioning Miss Flynn in regards to the suspicious circumstances surrounding Ms. Porter’s death.”

Declan blinked, his stoic expression masking his thoughts. “Katherine’s dead?”

“Yes, found this morning in her home.”

“Good riddance,” Declan said savagely.

Charlie gasped. Declan wasn’t helping matters with his blunt declaration. Now they’d be convinced he was involved.

“The detectives think you killed Katherine, Declan!”

Declan arched an eyebrow. “Do they?”

“You don’t seem too upset over the fact that your former lover is dead,” Collins commented.

“Take a good look at Ms. Flynn. If she was your wife or girlfriend, would you be distraught that Ms. Porter was found dead?”

“What I may or may not think doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the fact that things look suspicious in Ms. Porter’s death. I have to investigate it regardless of extenuating circumstances.”

“Good,” Declan spat out. “But you leave Charlotte the hell alone. You aren’t so much as to look at her unless she has her lawyer present. Do I make myself clear?”

“We’ll be in touch,” Collins said to both Charlie and Declan. Then they turned and walked out. Declan followed, closing the door forcefully.

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think they would just show up like that.”

“They asked where you were last night,” Charlie said, her voice quivering. “The detectives think you’re involved in Katherine’s death.”

“I was here with you after I confronted Griffin.”

“I know. I told them that. But they didn’t believe me. You didn’t hurt Katherine, did you? Please tell me you didn’t.” Charlie’s voice cracked, in a pleading tone.

“I didn’t harm a hair on Katherine’s head. I was here with you.”

“But did you have it done?” Charlie whispered.

“I didn’t have to. Katherine had a lot of demons. Made a lot of enemies. I wasn’t the only one who would have wanted to see her dead.” Charlie shivered at the darkness she saw in his eyes. This was a man you shouldn’t mess with. No matter how he appeared.

Emerson came into Charlie’s hospital room as they discussed things. “Why are you talking about Katherine? Did she try to hurt you again, Charlie?”

“No, nothing like that,” Charlie explained. “They found her dead in her home this morning under suspicious circumstances.”

“So that’s why I saw the detectives coming out of your room.”

“Yeah. They think I had something to do with her … ” Declan said.

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt. I need to check Ms. Flynn’s vitals, and examine her wounds. Would you two mind stepping out for a few moments?” The nurse interrupted.

Declan leaned in and kissed Charlie on the forehead. “We’ll be just outside.”

“Okay. I’ll be here when you get back.” Charlie laughed awkwardly. Someone needed to ease the tension in the room.

***

Emerson shut the door behind them and followed Declan into the hallway. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Let’s go get some coffee. We can’t talk here,” Declan insisted.

Declan and Emerson sat at a table in the far corner of the hospital lobby.

“What happened last night?” Emerson spoke between sips of black coffee. “You took off in a hurry after we confronted Griffin.”

“I had something to take care of. Katherine texted me.”

“Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“I swear, I didn’t do it. When I left, she was still very much alive, very much out of her mind but still very much alive.”

“What did she want?” Emerson asked.

“I don’t know really. She was spouting this nonsense about how I would miss her. How she was a tidal wave and I didn’t want to drown.” Declan twisted his coffee stirrer into a geometric shape.

“What the fuck?”

Declan fished in his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of purple notepaper. “Here, read this.” He pushed it over to Emerson.

…I know when the sunshine of your new life begins to scorch and burn your eyes, you will long for the warm, mysterious glow from something more subtle like that old, dusty lantern that sits in your basement, and you take out for camping. And in that glow, you’ll close your eyes and go back to a face and voice that loomed above you, next to you, below you, and beside you in the wee hours while branches and lightning crashed outside during apocalyptic storms. You’ll feel the scratching, like fingernails, of the emptiness that’s always just beneath the surface of your chest and waiting to claw its way out. And you’ll long to share it with someone that knows it, understands it, and can croon it to sleep like a baby. And that’s when I’ll appear. And you’ll wonder, “Did I make the right choice?” The answer will always be “No” but it will be too late, I’ll be gone.

And you once called me “a tidal wave. A motherfucking force of nature.” And nobody wants to drown. I get it. Really. Goodbye.

“Damn. Did you show the detectives this?”

“Of course not. They’d know I was there last night, and Charlotte already told them I was here with her.”

“What a fucking mess.” Emerson pushed back from the table angrily. “You can’t put Charlie in this type of situation. I don’t care if you killed Katherine or didn’t. It doesn’t matter. The police think you did, and when they find out you were there beforehand, your guilt will be a foregone conclusion.”

“I don’t think it will come to that. I don’t think they have enough evidence to say one way or another.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter! Don’t you get it? Once Griffin talks about how you had his head tattooed by force, things will look even worse. It establishes a pattern. You’ll come off as a man willing to do anything to avenge the crimes against his girlfriend.”

Declan sat there in horror, speechless. He nodded.

Emerson gripped Declan’s arm. “You can’t do this to her. You can’t put her through this. She’s been through enough. Please, just let her go before all of this circus starts.”

“You’re right. Charlotte deserves so much more. I know you’re right.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Two weeks passed, and Charlie was ready to leave the hospital. Declan was by her side every moment for the first week, but once the detectives had come to question the both of them about what happened, Declan’s visits became fewer and fewer, and then stopped altogether. Charlie began making excuses for his absence; he’s busy with work, the new genre launch is eating up his time. But no one believed them, not even her. Something wasn’t right, she could sense it.

She moved around the hospital room easily, and her mouth was starting to heal. Opening the door on the closet in her hospital room, Emerson’s hand came to Charlie’s, closing over her fingers. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” His eyes were burning; Charlie felt his fear for her. “I want you to go straight home, Charlie. Home. Not to the office. Promise me you won’t.”

“I promise,” Charlie said, but she didn’t mean it. She felt miserable and alone, aching to be near Declan.

Emerson broke into a relieved smile that brought out his dimples. He leaned in, gingerly hugging Charlie. “Good. I’ll stop by this evening to make sure you’re okay.” He drew away and let Charlie go and when the room’s door shut behind her, she heard the thud of it like an echo in her heart.

Declan’s driver had waited patiently as she packed her things herself. He offered to help, but she would have none of it. He didn’t seem to raise an eyebrow to find her without any family to help, or when she told him to take her home. The journey seemed long and cold. They passed by Pearse Publishing on the way.

Charlie wondered if Declan was at the office today. She thought of him, and the way he said I love you, Charlotte in that incredibly wonderful voice of his. She thought about how much she loved him too, how that voice had made her think, once again, of safety. She felt safe with him, enveloped by his feelings for her. But then she thought of another voice, equally darkened with desire, spoken in her living room weeks ago while she was bound and tortured. You’re mine, Charlie. Forever. That too made her think of Katherine.

She was glad to be home. How nice it would be to be out of the hospital. A bath, and some music, and perhaps she would go back to Pride and Prejudice. Austen’s almost compulsive use of irony seemed perfect for the mood she found herself in.

But as she stepped into the living room, the emptiness of the house seemed to mock her. There was nothing familiar; no sounds of Mikki’s wedding induced mania, no Monday morning quarterbacking coming from Aaron. She glanced at the fireplace, thinking back to those stolen moments when the snow fell, and Charlie felt like Declan and she were the only two people in the world. She felt the absence of him like a disease; suddenly she was so alone and lonely she couldn’t bear it, and she called the driver to take her to Pearse Publishing, to Declan.

***

As soon as she entered the office, Charlie saw Declan sitting on the edge of the couch, his head buried in his hands. Concerned filled her, and she started to go to him, but Aaron had arrived and was pulling her back.

“We’re leaving, Charlie. You’re in no shape to be here yet,” Aaron bit out.

Charlie yanked her hand away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Declan looked up then. His stare was distant and vacant. He stared at her blankly.

She hurried to Declan and knelt in front of the couch where he sat. She reached up, tentatively touching his arm but he flinched and shrugged away her hand.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, dread pooling in her chest, suffocating her.

“Nothing, Ms. Flynn.” He spoke in a stiff, formal voice. Declan rose and put distance between himself and Charlie. She pushed to her feet, confused by his mood and demeanor. Charlie didn’t like the way Declan was looking at her. The stony resignation on his face. What had Emerson said to him? What happened that he hadn’t been to see her in a week?

And then when Declan spoke, her blood turned cold, cracking and freezing in her veins. She stood still, too stunned to do more than drop her mouth open in shock.

“You should go,” Declan said in a curt voice. “It’s better this way. You became too emotionally invested. I don’t want you to hurt any more than you’ve had to. It will only be harder if we put off the inevitable. A clean break will be easier … on all of us.”

“What in the name of God is going on?” Charlie demanded, her voice exploding the strained silence.

“Ms. Flynn, we’ve boxed your personal belongings. I will need your badge and key back,” his new assistant spoke in a gentle voice.

Charlie could hear the pity in her tone. She knew Natalie felt sorry for her and all that she’d been through, and thought she was being a silly fool. Declan wanted to push her away, but it felt more like a shove.

To hell with that. She wasn’t leaving without an explanation. Not without trying to reach the man behind that imposing mask. She knew the real Declan. She knew he loved her no matter the chaos going on in the office right now.

Charlie shook her head. “I’m not leaving this building until Declan tells me what the hell he means.”

Declan looked right through her, as though she were a piece of office furniture that needed to be removed. He was cold, remote. His look spoke volumes. It shouted “I don’t want you anymore. You’re damaged goods.”

“Declan?” she whispered, her voice strained as the knot in her throat grew larger. She hated the pleading, weak note to her voice. She was precariously close to begging.

“It’s over Charlotte. I release you from your obligations to Pearse Publishing and from all obligations to me. Forget you ever knew me. You deserve more than I can give.”

“Bullshit,” Charlotte spat, startling the small audience with the anger in her rebuke. “You’re a fucking coward.”

“Charlie,” Aaron said quietly.

She ignored him, focusing her anger on Declan. “I risked everything for you. I put my job, my heart, everything on the line for you. It seems like a waste now, knowing you aren’t willing to do the same thing for me when things get difficult. Someday you’ll regret letting me go. By then, it will be too late. I won’t be around.”

Aaron’s arm circled around her, holding her steady as he urged her toward the door. She could barely see through her tears. Charlie was so angry that she was shaking. Aaron murmured something in her ear as he guided her toward the elevator.

Halfway there, she turned to see Declan staring at her with that vacant, distant expression still painted on his face and it fueled her anger. She wiped at the tears trailing down her cheeks and then lifted her chin determined not to shed another tear over him.

When the elevator doors opened, Emerson was there to meet them. He and Aaron hovered closely, escorting her to the waiting car.

“How long has this been going on?” Emerson demanded.

“Since a week or two before I came to visit you,” Charlie offered.

“Charlie, I wish you would have told me you were involved with Pearse.” Emerson’s expression grew stormy.

“Why? It was really none of your business at the time.”

“The hell it wasn’t. If I had known it was Declan I would have never allowed it. He took advantage of you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. He did not. It was consensual. You of all people know that. Stop spouting your holier-than-though sermon for a minute. Declan didn’t do a damned thing without my consent. I knew exactly what I agreed to when we started this relationship. I’m not some child, Emerson. I’m an adult who knew exactly what she wanted and I wanted Declan.”

“Still. He’s not what I would consider good at being a Dominant.”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” She rolled her eyes, irritation gripping her. “You’re the one that told me that no two Dominants are alike.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlie. Stop using my words against me,” Emerson demanded.

“The hell I will,” she said stonily.

“Enough,” Emerson growled. “He’s too old for you. He’s too experienced for you. He’s been in some questionable relationships. Katherine for instance. Is that what you want? Don’t you think you deserve more?”

“You’re right. I deserve better,” she spoke, the hurt and pain crowding in so tightly that she could barely answer. She had felt pain at the hands of Griffin, but the pain she felt from Declan was much worse. It shattered her, breaking her into a million tiny shards.

She clutched her coat even tighter, and her lips quivered as she stared at her brother and Aaron.

“I deserve a man who will always have my back. A man who will keep me safe. Declan promised those things, yet provided none of them.”

Aaron looked disquieted, and Emerson just looked pissed.

Charlie laughed bitterly. “I guess I’ll be looking for another job. Too bad because I really loved my work.”

“You can work for me,” Aaron offered. “It’s still in publishing.”

“Oh, there’s no way in holy hell. I’m not setting foot in that building ever again. I’m done. I am not going to torture myself on a daily basis by having to see Declan.” I’m not masochistic.

“What will you do?” Emerson asked.

Bitterness burrowed into her heart. “I have no clue. I guess I need to figure that out.”

To Be Continued…