Chapter Thirty-five
Charli knew Blake would be waiting to discuss Poppa John’s testimony with her. And as long as he stayed focused to that topic, she’d go along. But first, she needed to take a moment to think, rebuild her defenses – calm down.
With everything she’d gone through over the last twenty-four hours, her resistance was weak. No way did she have the strength to handle any pressure to carry on where they’d left off earlier in the evening.
She still hadn’t gotten over the shock of how she’d ignited in his arms. God knows, it had been a long time for her since she’d allowed any man to get that close. And even then, it had been under her rules, her choice of when and where and with whom.
And never, not once, had she allowed any guy to get past her barriers. After the nightmare she’d suffered as a child, the only man who rated on her I-give-a-shit monitor was her Popsicle. And she was fine with that, always had been.
Now, at a time when she was so messed up, and her life was in shambles, her stupid heart had to decide to crush out on a womanizing asshole who thought females were put on earth for his pleasure. He didn’t give them a chance to matter. He dumped them first, according to Candy and her warning.
Shit! Why can’t I catch a break?Protecting Kayla was one thing. She’d accepted that responsibility. Taking on Angie, well… she had no idea why that kid had gotten to her, but she had. So much so that she hadn’t been able to ignore her heartbreaking story, couldn’t shrug it off with the old adage – not my problem. Hell, she could have gone to Blake and gotten him to handle it through the proper channels.
But that would have only made things worse for Angie. She needed to see the sick, slimy bastard getting some of his own shit back, needed to know she’d been vindicated, had gotten revenge. Once she saw the bottom-feeder, who’d made her feel lower than scum, forced to his lowest common denominator, maybe she’d be able to move on. Swallow the hate – drop the guilt every victim in her position suffers – and learn to finally love and respect herself for the first time in her life.
The one aspect Charli hadn’t taken into consideration, and should have known better, was that Angie’s dependence would now be on her. Hadn’t she ordered it so? –The kid’s coming home with me, moving in.
Involvement in the Silverado case provided enough excitement; why in the hell would she take on more, and in her condition? Where had those words come from? Why hadn’t she thought it out before going all rogue… Superwoman?
She’d broken Angie loose, sure. But now she owed her.
Dummy!
A quick scan and she knew she’d do the same thing again.
Quit procrastinating and get to the point of why you’re hiding in this bathroom.
Because, she didn’t want a replay of the hot mess she’d gotten into with Blake earlier. The time had come to shut down that freakin’ gap and crawl back behind the wall to safety.
She stared in the mirror and saw her wild curls tumbling all over her head. The blonde color threw her. Like her gramps, she missed the red, and wished she hadn’t felt the need to disguise herself before leaving Seattle. Too late… she grabbed the small combs she used to keep control and swept the sides up, not caring that small swirls escaped and clung to her cheeks.
Next, she added more makeup, eyeshadow that gave her brown eyes, still filled with a soft, gentle light only her grandfather merited, a hardening effect. Supposedly the windows to her heart, she needed them to appear professional, uncaring… unavailable.
Adding a thick coat of red lipstick, that she hoped implied a barrier, she sauntered out to the kitchen and found him missing. Her glance took in the sofa and saw that he’d left the coverings for a bed, but he was nowhere to be found.
Then she looked toward the patio and saw the figures of two men conversing. She recognized his Lieutenant, Bill Norton, with Blake in deep discussion.
Her heart sunk. What in God’s name has happened now?