Relinquish(81)

Tara screams loudly as she sees my dad on the stairs, shoving Charlie off her. She falls to the floor, crawling toward him and in slow motion, Charlie loses her balance from the violent shove and goes flying down the stairs.

“No!” I bellow, trying to grab her, but my hand just misses her and she tumbles down.

I rush down the stairs to Charlie, a bundled mess at the bottom step, and pick her up.

“Are you okay?” I ask, looking her over frantically, my heart racing in my chest. She holds her head and groans.

“Roman, call the doctor!” I demand.

“On it,” he calls out with a shaky voice.

“I’ll get this cleaned up. You get Charlie to her room; the doctor should be here quickly,” Osborn instructs, hovering over my father. Without another question, I step over a sobbing Tara and head up the stairs. My heart is slamming against my chest in fear, my legs shaking with the possibility that I may lose my child.

I set Charlie on the bed and start tearing her clothes off. The sound of fabric ripping and shredding fills the room.

She has red marks all over her arms and legs. She’s holding her wrist, and her lip is bleeding.

I thumb her lip, wiping the blood. Her eyes fill with tears as she looks at me like I’m her answer for everything.

“Am I going to lose the baby?” she whispers, tears spilling from her eyes.

I swallow and grasp the back of her head, pulling her into me.





TWENTY-FOUR


CHARLIE


Landon had the doctor stay at the estate to keep an eye on me, but he said there was nothing we could do but wait. He was a middle-aged man with extremely cold hands. He said we would know soon if I’d lose the baby or not. Twenty-four hours later, here I am, in a tub of warm water, cleaning the blood off me as Landon sits on the edge of the tub and sponges my back.

I woke up and had to pee. When I went to the bathroom, I found blood spotting my panties. I instantly felt failure, and emptiness. I screamed and sobbed, waking Landon up. I didn’t think I would miscarry, convinced the world wouldn’t do that to me and Landon after everything we had been through. Landon called the doctor straight away. The middle-aged doctor examined me, and shook his head unsure. He said he would do an ultrasound in a few days to see if we had indeed lost the baby, but to keep off my feet until then.

“Charlie, talk to me,” he rasps, squeezing the sponge of soapy warm water down my back, bringing me from moments ago to now.

“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to pull Tara off you,” I whisper, staring at the tub’s chrome faucet. “But I saw her beating on you and I just reacted.” I shrug, emotion filling my voice. Goose bumps race along my arms, and even with the warm water, I feel cold and empty. The injuries from the fall don’t compare to the pain splicing through my heart.

“The doctor said the bleeding is too light to determine a miscarriage. Don’t talk as if this is it, Charlie.”

I let out a heavy breath and lay my head back on his legs. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” I sniffle.

“It’s my fault, too. If I was away from the stairs…” he clips, his voice dark. “I should have listened to you and left you back at the house.”

I shift sideways and look up at him, his face taut and eyes holding sorrow. He’s blaming himself, too. It hurts me to know that he thinks this is his fault.

I raise my hand and cup his jaw, the scruff tickling my palm.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted the baby at first,” I admit. “I didn’t know what to think. Waking up one day and being told you’re pregnant is a shock. But now, thinking I may not have that little heartbeat inside me anymore, I know for sure that I do want the baby one-hundred percent.” I start to cry.

Landon cups my hand and brings his head down, kissing the skin of my inner wrist. “Let’s get you out,” he whispers against my hand. He stands and grabs a towel from the counter as I place my hands on each side of the tub and stand on wobbly legs. Landon wraps my body in a large, fluffy white towel and directs me out of the water. Standing in front of the mirror, I watch him pat and dry my body with such care and love, I draw in a sudden breath. He begins to roll down his pants legs, and I slowly head into the bedroom with the towel still wrapped around me.

I look out the window, all the twinkling lights of Vegas shining in the distance.

“We’ll make it through this, sweetheart,” Landon whispers into my ear. I nod as a tear trails down my cheek. I lean against him, my body drawing strength from his closeness.

“What now?” I question. Where do Landon and I go from here? We may lose a child, but Landon lost a father too. I tried to get him to talk about it, but he does the man thing and says he’s fine. That his father got what was coming to him. He also assured me that Tara paid for what she’d doneattacking me. When I asked what he meant, he said nobody harms a Blackwell and lives to see another day. I don’t know if he took care of it or Osborn, and I don’t want to think about it.

“You become the Madam of the Blackwell estate. That is, if you want to.” Landon pulls me from my thoughts, and I frown. Me as the Madam of the estate makes the nerves in my stomach knot. I’m not sure I could handle a bunch of damaged women.

“I’m not so sure I’m the one for the job, Landon,” I whisper, grief lacing my words.