Fighting Back (Mercy's Angels) (9 page)

There was a very good chance this would come back to bite me on the ass. But another part of me, the caveman part of me, was pleased to be taking Rebecca to my happy place, to be able to show her off and stamp my mark of ownership on her. I was such an ass.

Rebecca

I don’t know why it felt imperative to go with Charlie to his gym. As soon as I got the feeling that he didn’t want me there, that he didn’t think I could handle it—that was it—competitive, stubborn, independent Rebecca reared her head and demanded attention. I was sitting on the old wooden bench in the back of Bouquets, my hands busy with the yellow rose and orange tulip floral arrangement in front of me. My mind wasn’t really on the job at hand though. Thankfully, after eight years in the business, I didn’t need to focus too hard on what I was doing; my hands instinctively knew what to do. I couldn’t seem to get Charlie Cole out of my mind. The protective way he looked at me made my central loving station spasm with appreciation; however, my mind raced over all the ‘what ifs’. What if he woke up one day and wanted to sneak out on me? Did he have some sort of sick hero complex which compels him to say and do the things he has for me? Maybe his feelings were misplaced by a simple need to help a friend. Being protective of a friend is a long way from proclaiming undying love. Did I even want that? Of course I did, what woman didn’t want something as epic as true love? And as much as I tried to stop wanting Charlie like that, I couldn’t. Ella has assured me that Charlie wanted me; that his feelings for me eclipsed friendship, but I was having trouble believing that. Charlie just didn’t love and maybe that was for the better, because I wasn’t sure if I could either. My eyes began to fill with tears at the thought of never having what Jax and Ella have. My lip curled in frustration. I was sick to death of crying. Everything would make me cry: songs, sounds, smells. And I was scared of everything, especially the dark. I still felt the eerie sensation of someone watching me and had considered speaking to Jax about it, but in the end, I knew it was probably nothing more than unsettled nerves that were consuming all rational thought. The sorrowful looks people cast my way were driving me crazy. Only my inner circle of friends knew exactly what had happened to me, but I’m sure the rumors were in spreading like wildfire; Claymont wasn’t that big of a town. Fingers snapped before my eyes, bringing my thoughts back to my present surroundings.

“Thought I lost you there for a moment,” murmured Lola. She was dressed in her typical black pants and black top, her black hair held back by a black scarf. Her green eyes were watching me as she took the bouquet from my hands and finished wrapping the stems with twine. Lola noticed me looking over her ensemble and she shrugged. “The world can be quite amazing when you’re a little strange.”

My eyes flicked back to hers and now she was looking over my clothes. I was wearing a pair of jeans, a plain, long sleeve t-shirt, and a pair of Converse. When Ella took me shopping last week, I picked up a couple pair of jeans and more than a few ordinary, long sleeved shirts. But Ella insisted on the Converses because, and I quote, “they’re complete and utter coolness, and just plain badass.” My hair was pulled into a messy bun, and I was wearing very little makeup. I looked normal. I didn’t feel entirely comfortable with the way I looked, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to wear anything from my iconic fifties style wardrobe either.

“Do you have a book of quotes at home beside your bed?” I asked.

She ambled away to put the bouquet in bucket of water by the front counter. “I just like to read,” she said before answering the phone.

I glanced across the wide walkway that separated my floral shop from Annie’s coffee shop. It seemed a little slow over there today. Annie’s new girl, Beth, was manning the counter, while Annie smiled shyly from across one of the tables at one incredibly sexy Dillon Montgomery. He was grinning wickedly at her and she blushed, which made me all sorts of curious. The two of them have been dancing around each other in the longest, most drawn out courtship known to mankind. They’ve known each other for a year now, and still haven’t been on a single date. Dillon spent a hell of a lot of time in the coffee shop though and he looked after Annie’s son, Eli, often. But they couldn’t seem to take the next step. If he looked at me the way he looks at Annie, I can tell you the man would have been flat on his back in a heartbeat. With that thought, darkness seeped its way into my mind and images from that night began to consume me. I breathed away the panic with long controlled breaths, just like Ella showed me. Without causing a scene, I found my calm place again and jumped up from the bench. I glanced out the front window and caught sight of a flashy looking black sedan parked at the curb. It wasn’t the car that made my heart skip a beat though; it was the tiny girl, with pixie short black hair that caught my attention. I took a hesitant step toward the front of the store. The girl looked frightened as a beefy looking bald guy grabbed her roughly by the arm. As the girl glanced back over her shoulder, I caught a glimpse of her eyes and gasped.

“Em?” I whispered, observing the familiar looking girl. My younger sister has eyes just like mine, only paler. They were completely unique and unmistakable. The last time I saw Emily, her hair had been long and a dark shade of blonde, her figure beautiful with soft curves. This girl was thin, her skin pale in a sickly way, and dark rings hung under her haunted, striking eyes. I watched, muted and still as she was pushed into the back seat of the sedan.  As the car pulled away from the curb, I started to doubt myself. My sister wasn’t in Claymont and that girl didn’t really look like Emily. My sister was safe, far away from the ugliness in my world right now, living it up, living her dreams. I shook it off and glanced around the store. I needed something to do, I needed to keep busy. I tied off the garbage bag and lifted it easily from the bin.

“I’m just going to dump this out back,” I called to Lola, who was still on the phone. She gave me a quick nod to let me know she heard me, and I made my way to the back of the shop, to the heavy door that separated the warm cozy interior of Mercy’s Angels to the stinky alleyway that sat beyond. I latched the door back so it wouldn’t slam closed and lock me out, then stepped into the alley. My eyes scrutinized everything. There were several large dumpsters that belonged to the other shops along the strip of road we occupied. Some were overflowing, scattering trash across the black, icy asphalt. It smelled dank and spoiled. The shadows made my heart hammer with unease, but I’d be damned if I was going to turn into a chicken shit damsel in distress. Heaving the bag of garbage off the ground, I moved out into the alley, towards our appointed dumpster. I pushed the lid open, and with a small amount of effort, I managed to haul the large bag up and over the side of the dirty steel monstrosity. I nudged the lid shut and it slammed closed. At the same time, another loud bang echoed from somewhere behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed the back door to the shop had closed. I became rigidly still, my brain coming to the conclusion that if I didn’t move, I would become invisible to any possible threat. I stood like that for the longest time, my heart beating so fast and furious I could feel my pulse in my hands and feet, my ears deafened by the loud thundering beat. From the corner of my eye, I thought I noticed movement in the shadows—finally my rigid, paralyzed mobility disappeared—and I ran for the door. I had no idea if there was someone behind me, but every sense I possessed screamed at me to move. When I reached the door, I pounded on it so hard it made my hands throb in pain and I screamed so loud my throat hurt. I heard heavy footsteps behind me, and a low chuckle that made my stomach curl as I continued to pound on that door like my life depended on it. When the door finally opened, I fell through it with such force I would have landed on my face if Dillon wouldn’t have been there to catch me. I was quickly moved aside into Annie’s waiting arms as Dillon moved swiftly into the alley. I couldn’t stop the slightly hysterical sobs that forced their way out of my mouth. As I sank to knees that would no longer hold me, Annie followed me down, rubbing what I guess was supposed to be comforting circles on my back.

“Rebecca,” I knew Dillon was now behind me, but I was so embarrassed at my hysterical breakdown that I refused to turn and look at him.

“What the fuck?”

My entire being sighed at the sound of his voice and my sobs stopped. Just like that, his voice forced the panic away, and I felt safe. Charlie’s big strong hands pulled me from Annie and I didn’t fight him. I allowed myself to sink into his chest, my ear pressed hard against him as I listened to his beating heart, the sound soothing me to my core.

“What the hell happened, Betty Boop?” His voice was a command, and unlike Dillon’s, I could not ignore it.

“I...I was putting the t…t…trash out,” I tried, hating the sudden stutter I developed. I took a deep breath and tried again, “I was putting the t…trash out, the door shut. S...someone was out there.” I glanced around Charlie’s arm so I could see the empty alley beyond the open door.

“Did you see who was there?” asked Dillon in what I recognized as his all-business voice.

I shook my head, my eyes watching the alley warily. It looked empty and quiet. Had there been someone there? Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. With a finger under my chin, Charlie moved my confused gaze back to him.

“What did you see?” he asked.

My brow furrowed as I tried to recall exactly what had happened. “I tossed the trash in the dumpster, and when I closed the lid, I heard a loud bang from behind me. When I turned around, the door was closed. Then I thought I saw something in the shadows, not really a person, just movement.” Damn it! I clenched my fists, my anger bubbling under my skin. How the hell did I become this wallowing miserable mess of pathetic female? “I’m going insane aren’t I?” I laughed humorlessly.

“Did you latch the door?” Lola asked from behind us.

I didn’t even realized she was there until that moment. Great, now my only employee was going to think her employer was completely bonkers.

I hesitated before answering, because as sure as I was that I had in fact latched the door back, a small insecure part of me was beginning to think I was losing my shit. “Yeah, I latched the door back. I was nervous going out there, so I latched it back to the wall and stood at the door just looking at the stupid damn shadows for five minutes before I could bring myself to walk outside.” I watched a silent exchange between Charlie and Dillon which pissed me off. I didn’t want to be the fragile fucking weak woman who everyone tip-toed around. I’d be damned if they were going to start keeping things from me in a bid to protect poor Rebecca Donovan.

“What?” I growled at Charlie when his gaze returned to me.

“If you latched the door it means someone had to unlatch it, which means you aren’t going insane.” I could see the desperation in his eyes. He would prefer that I was insane, hell, suddenly I preferred the idea of insane. The only other option was someone was screwing with me, and not in a good way. Dillon called in Braiden to do a thorough search behind the shop, hoping that whoever had been snooping around left behind a clue as to who they were. They also put in a quick call to Frank to let the police know what had happened. Then I spent the next twenty minutes arguing with Charlie about accompanying him to the gym for his sparring session.

“I refuse to be the spineless, crazy maiden who can’t deal with her shit.”

Charlie raised a brow in my direction. “Maiden? Seriously? What era were you born in, woman?” I glared at him. “You are not spineless, you are not crazy, and you are definitely no maiden. Strong willed, stubbornly determined, intelligent, and one hundred percent sexy as hell woman is a more accurate description. And you have all that without needing to hang out with a bunch of testosterone filled boys in a sweaty ol’ gym.” 

I drilled my nails in a determined beat against the door of Charlie’s truck, my gaze in Charlie’s direction unwavering. He was not leaving me behind.

“Fine,” he threw his hands up in the air before settling them once again on the steering wheel, “like I said, stubborn as a damn mule,” he muttered. I somehow managed to hold in the satisfied grin that begged to be let out, and watched the outside world pass by in a blur as we made our way to Lee’s Gym.

I climbed down from Charlie’s truck—I almost needed a ladder to get in and out of it. I would have clearly thought Charlie was over compensating for something if I didn’t know better. Charlie stood by the front door to the gym, a cheeky grin on his face which made me wonder if I had toilet paper trailing from the back of my jeans or something. It wouldn’t be the first time the Humiliate Rebecca demon came out to play, making my cool and stylish persona look like a farce—poppy seeds stuck in my teeth, red wine spilled in my lap, broken heel on my pumps, sitting in gum—you name it and I’ve more than likely faced the awkward humiliation of it.

“What?” I asked nervously, looking down at my clothes and running my tongue over my teeth.

“You know, you look like a damn teenager dressed like that?”

I looked down again at my simple outfit and quirked an eyebrow. “Ella picked it out.” I shrugged.

“Ahhhh...that explains it.”

“You don’t like it?” I couldn’t help but blurt out. If he said no, I would most likely burst into tears. It would be completely un-Rebecca like and I would be embarrassed as hell, but my emotions were clearly out of control right now.

“I think you look beautiful in anything you wear,” his smile turned devious, “or don’t wear.” I blushed, just like a fucking teenager! “Come on.”  He pulled open the door and guided me inside, the warmth of his hand at the small of my back made me feel safe and cherished. His previous words about me being beautiful made me feel hot and possibly the tiniest bit horny—something I never expected to feel again after my brutal attack.