That Emerald Vow (The Crimson Creed #2)

6. Chapter Six

“ C harlotte! Charlotte!” someone yells for me, but the sound comes out muffled, like I’m in a fishbowl. “Charlotte Rose Thatcher!”

I shake my head and force myself to snap out of the fugue state I’m in.

“Charlotte, go say hello to your Uncle Demetri and grab his coat. I need to finish up in the kitchen,” my mother tells me. It’s our annual family Christmas dinner, but I was hoping, like most years, that my uncle would be off on a fancy trip—too busy to spend it with us.

My legs feel like they are made of lead as I drag them to the foyer to let the devil incarnate in. No matter how much older I get—how much stronger—something about this man immobilizes me, brings me back to the scared little ten-year-old girl who had no voice.

I swallow hard before my shaking hand reaches for the doorknob. Ding dong! The doorbell chiming again makes me flinch.

“Coming,” I whisper.

Uncle Demetri looks red from anger by the time I open the door, but as soon as he sees me, it changes into amusement. “Charlotte, how’s my favorite girl?”

I am not your girl.

“Merry Christmas,” I squeak out. “Can I take your coat?”

“Is that a way to greet your uncle?” he asks as he leans in for a hug. I force myself to ignore my revolting stomach, wanting to gag on the stench of his aftershave— the same one he’s been wearing for years.

“Sorry,” I say as I give him a quick hug and try to push away. “Your jacket? Mother is waiting.”

“She can wait a little longer. What has it been? Two years. You still smell so good, my little Charlotte.” He takes a deep inhale. “Maybe I need to come back more often.”

My hands are fisted at my sides—frozen in place as he trails his fingers up my skirt. “Visit my niece. Spend some quality time with her.” The contact makes bile rise in my throat.

“No!” I scream as I move backward to get away from him.

“Charlotte Thatcher, what has gotten into you?” yells my mother as she walks into the entryway. My uncle is already two feet away from me by the time she gets to us. “I’m sorry, Demetri. She must have lost her mind.”

“Mother—”

“Don’t you dare. Apologize,” she orders.

I fight back my tears as I stare at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Uncle . . . I just meant . . . that you are so busy with important things.”

He takes his perfectly manicured finger and lifts my chin to meet his eyes. “Never too busy for you.” My mother takes his coat from him as he says, “I’m going to the bathroom to freshen up.” Without looking, I know there’s a growing bulge in his pants from getting off on my fear.

Stupid, stupid girl. You never let them see fear.

A sharp pain radiates from my arm where my mother grabbed me. “You insolent girl. I have told you time and again to behave with your uncle.”

“But, Mother, you know he—” I start to say.

She hisses at me, “All I know is that you are a liar and a disgrace to this family. No one will ever love you, Charlotte. You are unlovable. Which is why I know nothing happened back then. You just always want to be the center of attention.”

You are a liar .

You are unlovable.

I wipe away the fallen tears. “Mother,” I whisper, pain etched in every letter of the word.

“You are only good for one thing. Being a whore like the women your father . . .” she says as her voice cracks and she lets the sentence trail off.

I don’t dare say anything because maybe she’s right.

She takes a deep breath. “Now take this and go clean up. You look absolutely disgusting,” she barks before leaving me with my thoughts.

“Char, wake up.” There’s something brushing my cheek in soft, rhythmic motions. It feels nice—comforting. “Come on, gem.” Mmm. My lips twitch to smile—liking that nickname.

Damon, that’s who calls me that.

My eyes flutter open, realizing who I’m with. Damon’s worried expression is the first thing I see, but it turns into a warm smile as he notices I’m awake. My heart constricts and warms at the idea of someone caring about me.

I haven’t had sex in months, since the recent incident with my uncle left me feeling . . . hollow, dirty—just wrong. But this feeling of comfort from being in someone’s arms as they show their care and worry . . . this is a new form of intimacy for me. And it scares me all the more. Sex is easy. This right here is hard.

“Char, you’re okay.” I look around and realize we’re on a bench on the sidewalk near the bar. I take a deep breath and remind myself I am safe. It was just a bad memory.

“Yeah. I-I just . . .” I don’t know what to say. “I just got a little lightheaded. I didn’t get much sleep today and probably just need some food.” I can’t very well tell him I fainted from paranoia. I thought we bumped into the man from my childhood nightmares—both when I’m awake and asleep. The man resembled my Uncle Demetri so closely, I panicked.

He’s still absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across my cheek. I can’t help but lean into it, and that’s when I realize I’m wrapped up in his arms—fully nuzzled up to him like this is home. The comfort feels jarring, especially after the memory that played when I fainted, making me quickly shift to sit up next to him. Instantly, my whole body feels cold and misses his warm and kind embrace—aching for it. What the hell is going on? I can’t wrap my head around these foreign feelings of true want— need .

I can see a twinge of pain in his own eyes that seems familiar, but his mouth is smiling. “Well, if it’s food you need, it’s food you’ll get. Come on.” He offers his hand to me as he stands up.

I turn to look at the bar. “But what about the rest of our night?”

“Rain check, of course. Plus, getting to know you better will help me hone in on the type of guy you want.” Someone like you, I think. My brain goes back to the conversation I had with Lily a few weeks ago about her giving someone a chance.

“I just . . . I’m excited to see him this weekend . . . But then, the more I think about it . . . I don’t know . . . we’re different people now,” she says, fidgeting with a loose thread on a pillow.

I place my hand over hers. “It’s okay to be different people. That’s a good thing. You don’t want to be your teenage self or date the teenage equivalent of anyone.”

“Yes, that’s true . . . But what about what we do at night? Who would be okay with that? It’s making me think I’ll never find anyone who knows every part of me and still accepts me.”

I turn my head and purse my lips in disapproval. “Shut up.”

“I know it’s for the good of humanity and all that. But how do you have a relationship with such a huge secret?”

I release a deep sigh as I lean back to sink down into the couch. “Can’t really be like ‘Hey, I’m a serial killing vigilante’ during the first date.”

“Or the third. Or ever, really,” she says as she sinks down with me.

I turn my head slightly to look at her. “Hey, it doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun along the way . . .” But the enthusiasm I’m trying to portray in my tone doesn’t fully pierce my own feelings.

“But how long do we really want to have fun? I love being able to be single and mingle. But . . . I’m slowly getting over it. And as my best friend so nicely pointed out, I have commitment issues. And now it’s all I think about. I want to share my life with someone.”

“Is that someone Ade?” I ask.

“Maybe. We’ve been texting pretty much nonstop since our coffee date, and it feels really nice . . .” She shoves her face into the pillow and grunts. “Or maybe I’ll be single forever, boinking one guy and then the next.”

“Nothing wrong with that!” I exclaim because it’s what I expect for myself.

“Absolutely not. But I don’t know if that’s what I want. Leaving Ade and our conversation the other day really made it all real for me. I want more . . .” I want more too . . . I silently admit to myself.

I pull her into my arms and say, “Lils, I believe that if that’s what you want, that’s what will happen. You just have to have a little faith. There’s a nutso guy out there who will love you for you. Regardless of all the skeletons hiding in your closet. Maybe it’s Ade. Maybe it’s someone else. The good thing is, you don’t have to figure it all out right this very second.”

I meant every word I said to her . . . for her. I just don’t believe the same for myself. I’m happy and content being the forever-single-and-ready-to-mingle gal. These intrusive thoughts telling me differently are lies . . . Right? I love seeing Lily happy, and it’s confusing my dumb brain. That love story isn’t meant for me .

I look back up at the gorgeous—rough around the edges—but sweet man. He doesn’t want more either, I’m sure. Without knowing much about each other, I can tell we’re cut from the same fucked-up cloth. There’s potential for a great friendship here. And that’s it, I yell at myself.

Smiling, I take his hand, pulling myself up. “Where to?” I ask as we start walking in the opposite direction of the bar we were planning to go to.

“I was thinking we can go . . .” He trails off as his eye catches something on the floor that he bends over to grab. I can’t tell what it is, as his back is to me. When he turns back to me, he has a radiant smile on his face and a ring in his hand. The light is shining through it, reflecting its beautiful, emerald glow.

“It’s beautiful! I can’t believe someone lost that and didn’t realize.” I move closer to him to get a better look.

His smile turns devilish as he says, “I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I say, “Yes.” My own lips form a grin, knowing I actually mean it.

I’m sitting in a booth at our local diner, looking down at Damon, who is bent on one knee. My right hand is placed over my mouth in shock as fake tears threaten to spill over.

“Charlotte Thatcher, you came into my life like a tornado, destroying everything that I once thought I knew.” Bold, but where is he going with this? “Every moment since then has been a whirlwind of new and amazing emotions and memories. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” Better. He dramatically pulls the emerald ring we found from his pocket. “The moment I saw this ring, I thought of those beautiful emerald eyes of yours that I would love to drown in.” The fake tears all of a sudden feel real, and my heart starts to race. “With this ring, I vow to love you for you, for all your amazing qualities and even those small imperfections. Will you be mine?”

Tears continue to slowly stream down my face, and his eyes are also filled with emotion. “Yes!” I scream as he puts the ring on me. Barely letting him stand up, I jump on top of him—my arms going around his neck.

Goosebumps pebble all over my skin as I feel his hot breath on my neck—a tease of a kiss that’s not coming. A kiss! No one is gonna believe this without a kiss. I pull back and look Damon in the eyes. They are filled with something—something that I also feel deeply rooted inside. A want? Must just be a sexual attraction.

Without a second thought, I smash my lips into his. I feel him gasp against my mouth, but quickly, his arms pull me tighter into his embrace. His mouth slightly opens, his tongue finding mine. It swirls against mine, tasting of the strawberry milkshake he had earlier. Heat erupts deep in my core, spreading out. This kiss feels different from anything I have ever had before. It feels comforting and safe. Others either felt like nothing more than sexual release or were laced with fear . . .

We break apart, both of us looking up in a daze—eyes glazed over.

The store manager comes by, saying, “Dinner’s on the house for our newly engaged couple.”

It breaks us out of our trance. “Thank you so much, sir,” Damon says as he shakes his hand.

Grabbing my cell phone out of my pocket, I ask the manager to take a pic of Damon and me to commemorate our engagement in a permanent memento. Since that’s what I assume a normal couple would do.

“How cute!” I exclaim .

“Definitely send me that!”

We both quickly finish the half-eaten cake we had before leaving a generous tip for the waitress.

Giggling, we make our way to his bike. “I can’t believe that worked!” I say.

“I’ve seen it done in so many movies. I thought it must be bullshit.” He laughs as he hands me my helmet.

“Apparently not.” Going to grab the helmet, the green of the fake emerald reflects in the light, reminding me I have it on. I bring my hand back to pull off the ring to give back to him. After all, he was the one to find it.

He puts his free hand up. “No, you keep it. What I said in there was real, Char.”

My eyebrows furrow slightly as I twist my head. “Excuse me?”

He whips his head back, laughing. “Calm down. I mean, we’re in this together, my little gem. I really do vow to care for you—the good, bad, and ugly. One of us is chaotic. Now, two of us together?” He winks at me. “Imagine the anarchy of both of us against the world. What do you say, Charlie?”

“In chaos we reign, baby,” I say. “This friendship is going to be wild.”

“I like that.” He smiles at me. “In chaos we reign!”