Relinquish(73)

“Have I hurt you yet?” His breath brushes across my face. “If I was going to kill you, I would have done it already.”

I huff at his remark. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I sneer.

“I don’t care if you feel better, Charlie. I really don’t. Not right now. Right now, I care if you live. I wouldn’t be out here risking my ass to save you if I wanted it any other way.”

I inhale a shaky breath, the severity of his tone telling me he’s telling me the truth. Or he’s a damn good liar.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, looking into his deep green eyes speckled with brown. My head screams not to give in, but what if he’s right? What if he’s not the one I should fear? Landon once told me my body would tell me when something is wrong way before I know. When I met Miller for the first time, my body all but held up little red flags that screamed he’s a bad guy. But when I’m with Landon, I don’t get that feeling at all. If anything, it seems like Landon was placed on this Earth merely to protect me.

“You promise you won’t hurt me?” I whisper, still looking into those intense eyes.

“If that’s what it takes, then yes, I promise.”

“And my mother?” I continue to bargain, wanting to know more about what happened to her.

“I’ll explain it all later, but if you don’t come with me right now, you won’t ever have the chance of knowing, Charlie.”

I close my eyes and nod. He grabs my hand and rushes me out of the bathroom. I pass Jayden sitting on the bed, chewing her nails anxiously.

“Jayden,” I cry out as we head for the door. I thought she’d run for help, but she’s just sitting there, dazed. Is she scared, or does she trust Landon?

“Wait,” I plead, trying to pull from Landon. He stops but doesn’t let go of me.

“Go, Charlie. Go with him. For some reason,”—she flicks her gaze to him, then back to me—“I believe him.” I nod, knowing what she means. With Landon’s intense stare and the tone of his voice, it’s hard not to believe him. At least I know I’m not doing this just because I may be falling for him. I use my other hand to pull her close, taking in her cocoa scent and programming it to memory in case we’re both wrong. In case Landon does indeed drag me back to the estate and… I can’t even finish that thought.

“Be safe,” I whisper in her ear.

“You, too,” she whispers back.





TWENTY-TWO


CHARLIE


I sit in Landon’s beautiful black car. The smell of leather from the seats is strong, and it curves to my body like they were especially made for me. We drive out of the city, leaving the lights of Vegas behind us. The sun sits high in the sky without a cloud in sight, making Landon turn the air conditioning on. The tension in the car is so palpable you could poke it with your finger. I want to turn and demand why he killed my mother, demand to know who he really is and what he’s hiding, but I’m simply scared of the truth. I don’t know who to trust, what to fear. I curl into myself and stare out the window, my back facing Landon.

I hear him shift, and the warmth of his hand suddenly envelops mine. I turn my head, looking at his palm grasping mine. It’s so big compared to my hand, so warm, and the gesture is tender. My hand tingles from his touch, the feeling shooting up my arm and to my chest.

“Everything is going to be okay, Charlie. I promise,” he mutters, squeezing my hand. Does he not have any resentment toward me after I shot him? I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing back the tears.

The car turns into a suburban area, and I sit up straight in the seat to look around. There are houses of every color and every size, spaced accordingly to give one another privacy. They seem fancy, with the palm trees and cars that look brand new sitting in some of the driveways. Landon turns the wheel and pulls into the driveway of one. Its roof is tiled in some cream color, and the frame is made up of some stucco tan hue. The lawn is made up of palm trees, rocks and bushes, matching a lot of the properties around Vegas. The garage door opens and Landon pulls his car into the space with ease, the sound of the motor vibrating off the walls once we are inside.

“You hungry?” Landon asks, turning the car off. I tilt my head slightly and look at him with an arched brow. Has he lost his mind? That’s what he says? That’s what he leads with to break the silence?

“No. I’m just tired,” I mumble, opening the car door. I hear Landon sigh as he steps out.

“Charlie, we really need to talk.” He looks at me with such pain it takes me aback. I cross my arms, rubbing my hands up and down my forearms, trying to soothe myself. All I wanted before was to be with Landon, have that normalcy. But now, knowing what I know… I’m not sure that’s what I want anymore.

I nod and shut the door. Talking is the first step in figuring out what the hell I want next, though.

Walking inside the house, it’s huge. The ceilings are high and the space is large, but it’s clean. There are no empty food boxes, or mail sitting on the counter.

“You live here?’ I question, surveying the place.

“Sometimes. Not often, though,” Landon admits, tossing the keys on the counter.

Walking into the kitchen, there is a white tiled island with matching counters behind it, stainless steel appliances of the best quality placed accordingly. I explore the space, venturing into the living area. A massive U-shaped couch made up of white cushions occupies the space, a large TV placed on the wall in front of it and a fireplace beneath that.