Whistler by K.L. Savage

Itried to prepare myself for a few reactions. A slap across the face or coffee spilled in my lap. I expected yelling. Definitely yelling and denial.

What I did not expect was laughter, but I knew it was a front because now she’s starting to cry.

“I’m so stupid,” she repeats.

I snatch her hands in mine, touching that damn ring on her finger that doesn’t mean a damn thing. It’s a lie. Kenneth has degraded something that was meant to show honor and love. She’ll probably never wear a ring again. Love doesn’t need a symbolization. Symbols, like her ring, mean nothing if the vow is broken.

“Don’t. Don’t ever call yourself stupid again. You hear me?” I tighten my hands around hers and her crystal blue eyes are so bright from her tears, I feel like I’m being transported to a sunny lagoon. “You are far from stupid. You have been used by someone who you thought you could trust. Sometimes people are good at hiding their true colors. That isn’t on you. He took advantage of you.” I hang my head when I realize there is one other thing I need to tell her. “There’s something else.”

“Oh my god, if you tell me I’m related to him—” she holds a hand over her mouth “—I’m going to be sick.”

“No! No,” not that what I have to say is any better. “When you were in the hospital…”

“You know about that? God, how mortifying. You all must think I’m so weak, so gullible, so…”

“We think none of those things,” I cut her off. I hate how she is talking about herself. “Not for one second. Do you know what I see? I see a beautiful, smart, capable, independent, caring woman who has been trapped and hurt. I see a woman who felt like she was left with no choice but to stay with a man she hated yet depended on in some way either out of love or threats. I see a woman who figured out a way to survive, so don’t for one damn minute call yourself weak or gullible or stupid because it takes a brilliant person to survive what you have survived.”

“But last night…”

I bend over the table to get closer to her. “Last night was a woman looking for a way out, looking for peace, looking for a path that didn’t require so much fighting. Damn it, Charlie. It’s okay to be tired after everything you’ve been through, that doesn’t mean you’re weak. You’re human.”

She brings my hand to her cheek and bawls, clutching onto me so tight. “What else?”

“You had a miscarriage—”

She smiles sadly at me, and I know she knows.

“But the doctor said you didn’t know.”

“I think a woman always knows when she loses something that was a part of her. I mourned, but I was relieved too, which is probably why I haven’t been too stuck on it. I bled so much and I just…I knew. I don’t know how else to explain it. I know the doctor and Kenneth fed me bullshit. I was so devastated but then I thought…what if I had to raise a baby with that man? His cruelty, his hate, he would never love a child.” She rubs her chest as if her heart aches at what she never had. It probably doesn’t ache, it’s probably broken. “I miss her or him, but I’m thankful they didn’t have to experience him. I never wanted a child to be brought around him. Ever. He would have…I can only imagine the things he would have done, so yes, I know. I know I was pregnant. It wasn’t meant to be, and I have to trust that was best because I would have died protecting my child, but then what? Leaving her or him with Kenneth? No. Fucking. Way,” she sneers, wiping her cheek on my shirt.

She stares at her rings and scoffs, tugging them off her finger and throwing them onto the table. She sags against the booth. “The chains are gone,” she says, staring as the rings circle and circle until one by one they fall flat.

“The chains are gone, Cupcake.” I take the rings and tuck them in my pocket. I’ll pawn these too with the gun and make sure she has a nice stack of cash.

She smiles and cries at the same time and it’s beautiful to witness. She’s cried so much lately, but these tears are different. These are tears of happiness and of a woman who has found her life again.

Then she slaps the table and shakes her head, scrambling to get out of the booth. “I need to find my dad. Kenneth said if I ever tried to leave, he would kill him. Oh god, what if he is dead? What if I killed him because I didn’t stay with Kenneth? That was why. That was the only reason why.”

One slides out of the seat, but I just jump out of the booth by hopping over the back seat. “Your dad is safe. This isn’t my first rodeo. One of the guys is watching your dad. If it makes you feel better, you can call him.”

She nods fast and feels for her phone. “I don’t have my cell. Oh god, I’m going to be sick.”

“I turned your phone off so he can’t track you. I have your dad’s number. Here.” I search for his name and press call, then put it on speaker and hand the phone to Charlie.

It only rings twice before he answers. “Hello? Whistler? Everything okay?”

“Dad?” she sobs when she hears his voice.

“Charlie? What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“You’re okay,” the words rush out of her in a whoosh. “You’re okay.”

“I’m fine, but you don’t sound it.” A beat of silence passes. “Kenneth called.”

Her smile drops from her face, and she grips my shirt so hard I hear the seam tear. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to know where you were, but I told him I didn’t know.”

“Keep it that way, Dad. Please.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, pumpkin. I know he isn’t a good man.”

“You do?”

“I thought if I let him steal from me that he would keep you safe. He threatened to hurt you if I didn’t allow it to happen, but I should have known better. I failed you as a father. You aren’t that clumsy, are you?” the older man sniffles.

Mercy gets up from his chair and leaves. This topic hits too close to home. I don’t blame him for leaving. It’s hard for me to bear too.

“No, Dad. There’s so much we need to talk about but I’m safe. I’m with Whistler. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m coming over, okay?”

“No. No, don’t. It isn’t safe. Kenneth might follow you. He doesn’t know I’m here but if you come here on a weekend he might.”

“I won’t let him keep me from you. I need to know you’re safe.”

She turns and her copper lashes blink as she slides them from the phone to stare at me. “I am safe, Dad. I promise. I think…”

I have to hold my breath with what she’s said and what she is about to say. Her eyes dart between mine as she finds her words.

“I think I’m the safest I’ve ever been in some time.”

I nod, giving her a reassuring grin, but on the inside, I’m fucking doing somersaults. This is huge. She feels safe here.

“Whistler is here, and he is protecting me. I…trust him.”

I could have fallen over if it weren’t for One behind me.

“I like them bikers, pumpkin. You stay with them, okay? I’ll act like I haven’t heard from you. I’ll see you Monday? Can I call you later? I’ll lose my mind otherwise,” he gets choked up and must pull the phone away because when he clears his throat, it sounds distant.

“Okay, Dad. Love you. Talk later.” She hangs up the phone and hands it back to me. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m so used to doing what Kenneth says. Work, money, groceries, dressing a certain way. I don’t know what to do now. I’m not his anymore. Maybe I get a restraining order?”

“We can do that. I’m not sure it will do anything, but legally it will be good to have. And Charlie? You’re free. You can do whatever you want.”

“It can’t be that easy.”

“It is. That ring is gone. He held you back from the truth, but you know it now. You want to go to Italy? I can make that happen.” The last thing I want is for her to be halfway around the world where I can’t protect her or have a chance to have her fall in love with me.

She throws herself at me and knocks the wind out of my body. Her arms tighten around my neck and her face nestles against my chest.

I’m surprised, but my arms work quickly, and I circle them around her, holding her tight.

“Thank you for saving me from him.” Her words are muffled against my chest. “And thank you for saving me from myself.”

“Anytime, Cupcake.” She feels good here. Right here in my arms. Her body pressed against mine, chest to chest, and I never want to let her go.

She has to feel it too.

“I have a feeling you mean that,” she says as she pulls away, but doesn’t take her arms from where they are on top of my shoulders.

I don’t know if she knows she’s doing it, but her fingers are playing with the long pieces of my hair that curl at the base of my neck.

“I do mean it.”

She stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips against my cheek. I shut my eyes and relish her lips on me. It’s a peck on the cheek, which means nothing to most, but for me, this is huge. “Thank you so much.”

“You deserve the world, Charlie Cupcake.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Cupcake? That’s for me to know,” I wink.

She unwraps herself from around me. “What happens to Kenneth?”

“I don’t want you to worry about him again. We will take care of him.”

“Do I want to know what that means?”

“You know what it means.”

“I should be scared but….”

“But?” I urge.

“But it makes me happy. Does that make me a bad person? I want him dead; only then will I be able to breathe again.”

“You start doing that now and you let me worry about him. As I said, you can go anywhere now, and I’ll make sure he isn’t around to follow.”

She chews on her bottom lip, causing it to swell slightly and turn a darker shade of red. I reach for her lips, and she flinches, a habit and instinct to protect herself. I gently tug the flesh from her teeth.

“Don’t do that,” I husk.

“Why?” she stares up at me with those innocent blue eyes.

Innocent because she hasn’t experienced just how good life can really be, even if she has seen the harshness the world offers.

“You aren’t ready for that answer.” I swipe my thumb over her bottom lip, watching it turn different shades of pink from the pressure.

“I think I might surprise you with what I’m ready for.”

“You surprise me every day, Charlie.”

She blushes and her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink, like the sun right as it sets and paints the sky in its wonders.

“Tell me,” I switch the subject because if I don’t, I’ll do something stupid like kiss her. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere?”

“Name it, Cupcake.”

“The beach. I’ve always wanted to sink my toes in the sand.” She gets this dreamy look on her face. “I’ve never been.”

Yeah, I’m going to fix that.

“I’ve never seen the ocean.”

I’m going to fix that too.

“I’ve never done…anything that amounts to something,” she says with a frown, disappointment engulfing her.

“I’ll have to disagree with you, Cupcake. You survived. That’s a whole lot of something.”

“You always know the right things to say.” She tries to twist the rings that used to be on her finger out of habit and when she doesn’t feel it, the corners of her lips tilt into a small smile.

“Not always.”

“Whistler!” Mercy’s voice booms from the other room and Charlie jumps and runs behind me.

I hate she’s scared, but damn, I love that she wants me as her shield.

“Whistler.” Mercy charges into the kitchen. “Sorry, Charlie, but club business. I need you to go upstairs. There’s a Kindle on your bed I got for you. It’s got a three-hundred-dollar gift card on it for books and there is the TV but do not come out of your room, got it? Lock the door and Whistler will come to you when it’s over.”

Her nails dig into my back, her body trembling against mine. I reach behind me and automatically take her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. I hope my touch helps steady her because there is nothing to be afraid of.

Not while I’m here.

Not while I’m breathing.

“It’s okay, Cupcake. Run up to the bedroom. I’ll knock three times so you know it’s me, okay?” I spin around and she’s shaking like a leaf.

“Promise you’ll be okay?” she asks, her palms against my chest, no doubt feeling my racing heart.

It isn’t beating for whatever threat is outside.

It’s beating for her.

She’s willingly touching me.

“I swear it.” I kiss her forehead again, controlling the urge to kiss her and guide her out the door. I walk her to the stairs, and she glances over her shoulder at me, unsure whether to leave or not. “Go on,” I urge her, kissing the top of her hand before I let it go. “I’ll see you soon.”

She stares over my shoulder to Mercy and runs up the steps. I watch her until I hear the door shut and the lock click.

“What’s going on Mercy?”

“Two things,” he starts, charging through the front door and dragging a dead body into the entrance.

Fuck.

“Oh shit, I missed the party,” Socks says, taking a bite of peanut butter and jelly as he stares down at the nameless man.

How could someone eat right now?

“So someone sent us a message.” I squat down just as Princess comes through the front door and closes it so no outsiders can see.

Yeah, we definitely need to be more careful since we are right off the road.

I flip the guy over by pushing on his shoulder. I study his face and tilt my head. “He looks familiar,” I say, lost in thought while I try to place him. “Damn, they weren’t forgiving to this poor bastard, were they?” The guy's eyes are cut out and his throat slashed from ear to ear.

Mercy lowers himself to my position and parts the guys chest where a note is nailed—actually fucking nailed—and my stomach drops as I read it out loud:

I’ll kill every single one of her dad’s crew until she’s brought back to me.

I will have her.

Short. Sweet. And to the point.

My favorite kind of love note.

“Shit. I knew I saw this guy. He was the one talking to Charlie the other day when I pulled her aside and asked her if she was being abused. Shit.”

“See the signature?” Mercy points at the bottom of the note.

It’s an upside-down triangle with a goat in the middle, which would be hilarious if it didn’t mean some bad shit was about to go down.

“Holy crap. Please tell me that’s not what I think it is,” I grumble. I’ve seen that insignia before. One other time.

In my sister’s trailer after her boyfriend had kept the cocaine out when I had dropped by for an unexpected visit.

“Scapegoats,” Mercy informs.

“You mean to tell me that, Kenneth Hastings is a fucking drug dealer?”

“No,” Mercy shakes his head and yanks the note from the poor kid’s chest, leaving the nail in the middle. “I think he runs it with his father and Charlie has found herself in the middle of this.”

“Not just her. Taylor too. I saw this at her trailer.”

“Well, isn’t that fucking convenient.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Prez?” I grit, not liking his implications or his tone. “My sister is a victim just as much as Charlie is.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s the second thing I wanted to tell you. Your sister isn’t here. She’s gone. Any idea of where she could be?”

“I have an idea,” I grumble, then reach for my wallet.

Please, don’t let it be empty.

I unfold it and part the middle, cursing when I find the cash missing. “Goddamn it, Taylor.” I drop my wallet to the ground and scrub my fingers through my thick scruff, scratching the skin. “She went to go get her fucking boyfriend from jail. She didn’t do this, Mercy. She wouldn’t kill someone.”

“I know that, but she could have the information we need. I want her brought back.”

“As a prisoner?”

“Until she’s proven innocent, right now, she’s fucking guilty in my eyes.” Mercy stands and steps over the body. “If this kid doesn’t have family, then get rid of the body. If he does come up with a creative way for his family to claim him.” He punches the wall as he strides away. “Fuck!” he yells, disappearing into the kitchen.

“I think Prez is pissed.”

“No fucking shit, Socks.” I am too.

The last thing I need is for my sister to be caught in the middle of some drug ring. Charlie is in the crossfire and has no idea just how close she is to the problem.

No, not close.

Dead center.

And if I know one thing about assholes like Kenneth, it’s that they take their possessions seriously. He will do whatever it takes to get his punching bag back.

I need a scapegoat, only mine isn’t drugs. It’s an auburn beauty and she’s waiting for me upstairs.

Charlie Cupcake, the only scapegoat a man truly needs.

Kenneth is an idiot. He already had the only drug he ever needed.