CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

 

 

Charlie woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, clutching at her throat and gasping for breath.

Heart pounding, confused and disoriented, her eyes tried to focus on her surroundings. Unfamiliar. Panic began to set in until reality seeped through the nightmare and she remembered where she was. That bastard was choking her. She’d fought him but he’d got the better of her and this time she didn’t have a knife. Neither had he, but he’d almost killed her anyway. Then his face had morphed into Dale’s.

As if sleep wasn’t tough enough with the nightmares she’d had for the past two years. Now she had more trauma in her head.

Trembling and clammy, she threw the blankets back and swung her legs off the couch, realising she hadn’t fared as well as she thought she had from the attack last night. Muscles ached everywhere, even in places she never realised she had them. Running, yoga, even a couple of sessions at the gym a week never made her feel this sore, but her body wasn’t used to fighting. Her arm was throbbing, her ankle sore—she must have twisted it in the struggle—and her throat was dry as a bone.

Giving herself a minute, she waited until she’d calmed down before attempting to stand up. How long had she slept for?

She guessed it had been a while. The curtains were closed, but light shone through the cotton material.

A vibration sounded from her handbag. Reaching over she grabbed the bag and fished inside. When she pulled the phone out to see Cara was calling, Charlie sighed. She couldn’t face talking to her friend right now. There was no way she couldn’t mention what happened and honestly, she didn’t want to even think about it for a little bit. It was hard enough keeping a handle on her anxiety as it was. She needed a little time before dealing with Cara’s fussing, which the woman was bound to do.

When the ringing stopped, Charlie opened her phone and saw that Cara had called three times already and there were two text messages from her, and one from her mum. Later. She’d return everything later when she felt better. Glancing at the clock at the top left of the screen, she couldn’t believe it was half past ten. The place was quiet. Jake must be out at work.

She got up and went to the kitchen, noticing a post-it stuck on the kettle.

Pulling it off, she read the handwriting she’d become familiar with.

 

Hope you slept well. There’s bacon in the fridge and cereal in the cupboard right in front of you. Help yourself.

Will be back home just after midday.

Hope you’ll still be there.

J.

 

Charlie smiled. Then, remembering the reason why she needed to be there when he got back, her stomach knotted. She had to talk to him about the prison thing. With any luck he’d just laugh at the absurdity and they would kiss again and she could put all the doubts behind her.

Her shoulders slumped; somehow, she didn’t think that’s the way their conversation was going to go.

Thinking better of the bacon, her stomach letting her know she couldn’t face anything too heavy, she got the Cornflakes and searched his other cupboards for a bowl.

Leaning against the breakfast bar as she ate, her mind took her back to last night. If Jake hadn’t come back to her flat she could be dead. Then she realised she had no idea why he had. Maybe he’d heard the struggle. If she remembered, she’d ask him when he got back.

Charlie finished her food and washed up, feeling strange being in his place alone. It smelled of him. Manly. Not in a bad way. In a very good way. And she remembered how strong that scent had been when they’d kissed and done those other things. Her stomach started doing back flips as she thought about his mouth on hers. He was a great kisser. And those hands. . .

Deciding there was plenty of time to take a shower, she went over to her bag and fished inside for some clean underwear. She didn’t feel all that comfortable, but there was no way she was ready to go to her flat. Not just yet. And he had told her to stay as long as she wanted.

She went to the bathroom and took the room in. Again, it was similar to hers, but his was sparser: bare white walls and a white bathroom suite. There was a small, navy wash basket in the corner with a pair of jeans and a T-shirt thrown on top of it. Still damp from when Jake must have used the shower, the musky air held the spicy scent of his shower gel or aftershave. Charlie hadn’t brought much in her bag, so she decided not to wash her hair and tied it up in a knot on top of her head to keep it out of the way. Thankfully, she’d grabbed some shower gel so she didn’t have to use his masculine stuff that would be far too strong smelling.

Charlie caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror in the medicine cabinet above the sink. When she paused in front of it she was shocked to see how bad her cheekbone looked. Leaning forward to get a closer look, she reached up and gently touched the sensitive skin that had now turned a horrid grey. A small area at the outside corner of her eye had turned purple. She hissed when she prodded it. God, it looked bad, like she’d had a disagreement with Tyson Fury. That’s what it felt like too.

When she’d stripped her pyjamas off, she leaned into the shower that was inside the bath like hers, and turned it on, finding the right temperature. Stepping into the tub, she faced the spray, careful not to put her bandage under the water. She closed her eyes as the water washed over her skin, allowing herself a moment of peace as she concentrated on the warm sensation trailing down her body. For a moment, when she cleared her mind of everything, Charlie forgot she was in someone else’s flat and managed to enjoy the shower.

What the hell had happened to her life? Since she’d moved to Hatfield to start her uni course, she’d felt like she was finally in control of it. After what she’d been through with Dale—his control, his narcissism—she’d finally moved on and had future prospects she was excited about. For the past two years, uni had been the most important thing to her, and she’d poured her soul into her work.

Since Jake had moved in, and her curiosity had taken over, the man had caused a kink in the precision of her focus. Made worse by the fact she’d found herself caught up in something Jake didn’t seem to want to tell her about.

Charlie knew she should have run a mile way before now. He’d been quite off with her on a number of occasions, had avoided her, snapped at her. Clearly he was a man with issues, things to hide. Trouble was, she didn’t want to run from him. Even now, knowing he could have been in prison, and that he had some crazy psycho after him who had targeted her for some reason. There was something about him. He’d been nice to her. Under all the angst, she had seen a decent man and deep down, she knew she wasn’t wrong about it.

Stepping out of the shower, Charlie grabbed the towel from the closed toilet seat and wrapped it around herself. Shit. Her toothpaste and brush was in the bag in the front room. And she might as well grab her clothes too and get dressed in the bathroom out of the way, just in case Jake came home early.

Leaving the bathroom, she was too busy undoing the corner of her bandage patch to have a nose at her wound that she didn’t see the wall of solid steel until she bumped into it. Only, it wasn’t a wall, nor was it steel; it was Jake. It surprised her so much she actually let out a scream until she realised it was him who had hold of the tops of her arms, probably to stop her falling over.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” he said, his eyes wide because no doubt she’d just given him a heart attack too.

“Oh God.” She swallowed in attempt to lubricate her dry throat so she could talk. “I thought you were home after twelve.”

A frown appeared on his face. “It’s ten past.”

Her hand shot to her chest. “What?” Shit. How long had she been in the shower? “I’m sorry, I lost track of time somehow.”

When she saw his eyes drop to the towel she was wearing, Charlie suddenly felt like it wasn’t there. Her cheeks heated and when Jake’s gaze met hers again she saw him swallow. Then he cleared his throat. “It’s fine. I told you there was no rush.” His eyes dropped again right before he turned and walked to the kitchen.

Charlie moved quickly over to her bag.

“Do you want a drink?”

He was at the sink filling the kettle and she tiptoed back towards the small hall down the side of the kitchen. “Uh, yes. Tea please.”

He turned and Charlie caught his gaze as she went to go past him, pausing when she saw his strange expression as he looked at over at her. “I’ll just be a minute,” she said, wondering what he wasn’t amused by.

Five minutes later, she was dressed in her navy joggers and a soft pink, vest top, finished off with a white pair of sports socks. Sexy as hell. She rolled her eyes internally. Jake was placing her tea down on the side table when she walked back into the living room. He sat down on the end of the sofa closest to the window and she joined him, sitting on the other side.

“Thanks,” she said as she reached for the cup. She could feel his eyes boring into her and when she sat back, he had a harsh frown.

“Your face.” So that’s what he was glaring at. “Looks pretty bad. How’s it feel?”

“Sore.” She gripped the hot cup between both hands. “I can’t believe how bad it looks.”

Jake scooted up towards her. “Let me see.” Facing her body towards him a little, she looked at him, turning her head slightly away as he reached up. His touch was so gentle she barely felt it as his fingertips danced over her bruise. It didn’t stop her pulse from racing. “At least it isn’t swollen. It’ll get worse before it gets better though.”

“Great.” It was all she needed, turning up to classes on Monday with a face full of bruises. There was no way she’d cover it with makeup as it was. “I think I’ll lock myself away for the next week.”

His fingers moved down her cheek, stopping at her chin. When she saw his gaze drop to her mouth, her lips parted, breaths going shallow. But just as she thought he was going to kiss her, his eyes met hers again and he removed his hand, seeming to shake himself.

Sitting back, he leaned his elbow on the back of the couch, his body still turned towards her. “I went to the police station on the way back. Wanted to know if they had any new leads. Nothing. They only pulled my prints from the knife, which was clearly what he wanted.”

Ignoring her racing heart, Charlie had to ask. “Who is he, Jake?”

Pausing with his cup near his mouth, Jake’s eyes bore through her for a second. “I told you, just someone from my past.”

“Someone who’s really got it in for you; you must have done something pretty bad to him.”

She saw his jaw tighten. “Not now, Charlie.” He leaned forward and put the mug on the table before resting his forearms on his knees.

Not now? A sting of anger rose up inside her. How dare he brush her off after what she’d been through. It was because of him she had a black eye on the way and a nice big gash on her arm that had a million stitches, and he had the cheek to shut her down. She put the cup on the table and got up. There was no way she was staying there another minute. Not with the way he’d pissed her off.

“So, hey,” she said as she grabbed her things, “why don’t I just get out of your hair. You just be sure to come and tell me when you feel like talking. Because, you know, I wouldn’t want you to be inconvenienced by actually telling me what the fuck is going on.”

Her voice was harsher than she’d planned, but in order to stop herself from crying, lashing out was the better option.

Jake looked shocked as she threw her bag strap on her shoulder, bending down to grab her boots.

He stood up and went to touch her. “Charlie, I—”

Charlie shrugged his hand off her arm. “No. It’s fine. I’ll just keep getting broken into and stabbed while you decide when it would be a good time to start talking.” Turning around, she went to leave but stopped. With the adrenaline soaring through her veins, now was as good a time as any. “And when you do make that decision, be sure to tell me about prison too.” When she glanced at him right before she went to walk away, he was stock still with a look of horror on his face. His eyes were wide, mouth open. She should ignore it and go. But she stayed there anyway. “Well? Got something to tell me about that? Or is that not up for discussion either?”

Silence followed, and something about the way his face screwed up gave her pause. “Why did you say that?”

“Well, when you overhear something like that about the man you’re falling for, you take notice.”

Shit. She really shouldn’t let words come out without thinking about them first. Thankfully, her declaration seemed to have escaped his notice. He dropped his head, eyes closing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Why was she still standing there? During her rant she’d got up with conviction, ready to walk out and leave all thoughts of Jake Sure behind, at least for now anyway. So why was she suddenly filled with regret at the way she’d blurted that information out? It wasn’t how she’d planned to ask him about it.

Oh God. Her stomach sank. Jake hadn’t laughed like she’d hoped. In fact, he hadn’t said anything. Now that he wasn’t even attempting to deny it, icy fingers trickled down her spine, the devastation of what she’d stumbled upon hitting her full force in the solar plexus.

He had been in prison.

Jake stared at her and pulled his hand down his face. When he turned his back, he said, “I knew I shouldn’t have started going to those open mic nights.”