Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Feenix Blaylock

I climb the stairs to Charlie’s apartment with my lip half snarled. It’s noisy, and a horrible stench is seeping out of the walls. Trash litters the hallway, and I have to step around the garbage to travel down it. I haven’t lived in a place like this since my youth, and I had vowed that I’d never return to such conditions. But here I am, at her apartment door, sliding the faded key inside the lock.

About a half hour ago, when the sun finally went down, I left her at my place. I made sure to tell security that no one goes up or down without my consent while I’m gone. I don’t like leaving her there, but I have to get to the shoot. No matter how much I want to, I can’t just ignore my job.

When I left, she was on the phone with her partner. That damn woman has two phones. Despite Andre’s minion destroying her original phone, her partner had given her another so that she could contact him without us knowing. She had made that call as soon as we got back from shopping to give him an update on the situation.

He did not like the fact that she was staying with me, and that’s putting it mildly. But right now, her life is in my hands and not his. He doesn’t get a say here. He put her in the lion's den in the first place. I wanted nothing more than to take the phone and tell him just that, but I didn’t because Charlie made it out like I wasn’t anywhere near her.

And when she told him about us, at least the part where I’m helping her, I could hear him through the phone. He was in a rage that she had blown her cover and tried to convince her that she couldn’t trust me.

I left then and there, driving around a bit before I came here to get some of her belongings. I needed the time to think, to process what I’m about to do as well as what we are going to do to get closer, even though we have no breadcrumb trail to follow.

I open her door and step into her dark apartment. Once I’m inside and have the door shut behind me, I flick on a light and get a good look at the inside of Charlie.

Her place is not messy, but there are sweaters strewn here and there as if she couldn’t wait to shed them as soon as she stepped into her home.

On the counter is a box with the lid open. It has Nathan’s name written on the side. I immediately head to it and peek inside then raise an eyebrow at what I find. From the looks of it, it contains random things. They must have some sort of sentimental value though because there is no way that she brought even her furniture from their shared space. Her one and only couch has a rip down the cushion. Nathan was more upper-class than to have damaged furniture .

No, these things mean something to her.

I pinch the edge of a shirt and pick it up. For a second, questions rise. Why this shirt? What memory does it hold for her?

I shove the questions aside and drop the shirt back down. I ignore the laptop that was underneath it and stride toward the bedroom. There’s a small carry-on suitcase in the corner, so I grab it and lay it on the bed. Heading to the dresser, I get a handful of underwear and neatly pack it into the suitcase.

Next, I choose bras. In the bottom drawer are sweatpants and baggy shirts, so I place those inside as well.

When I’m done with her dresser, I dip into the bathroom and poke around for a minute, deciding what to grab and what I’ll just buy her. We bought shampoo, conditioner, soap, and deodorant earlier today. She threw a fit at how much it cost, but she let me buy them anyway.

I bypass the stuff in the shower and gather up her makeup. There isn’t much, but she doesn’t wear a whole lot anyway, a fact that I like. I pack her brush, some hair products, and a few hair styling things that I couldn’t name if I tried.

Once I zip up the carry-on, I leave the bedroom and pause next to the box. I have many questions about it, answers I know I won’t get if I leave them here. I grind my teeth as I debate whether or not to bring it along, and then my phone chirps.

I pull it out of my back pocket and open the text.

Andre: I have a man for you tonight for your shoot. Anya is okay with it.

Since when do we wait for the acceptance of a sex slave? I grind my teeth for a whole new reason but respond anyway because he’ll keep texting until he gets his point across, whatever that may be.

Me: Sure.

Andre: A thanks is in order, I do believe, considering what I had to do to get one to agree without damaging his body.

Me: Your sex slaves are disobedient.

Andre: I’ll leave it to you to make them obedient then.

I huff an angry breath. Even if I was still okay with this portion of my job, I’d still be angry. Andre passing his dirty work off to me just pisses me off.

Me: I’ll be there in an hour.

Andre: How’s Charlie?

My heart freezes for a second.

Me: Why?

Andre: Poor thing left the gala early.

As if he’s standing right before me, I keep my expression passive.

Me: She wasn’t feeling well.

Andre: Too much champagne probably. The boss has been asking about her. There are no new videos.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Me: I’ll schedule something after tonight.

Andre: You do that. It’s never a good thing when you have his undivided attention.

I don’t bother responding and pocket my phone once again. I knew that Charlie would have to shoot again soon to keep suspicion down, but I was hoping we’d have time to at least have a discussion about how to proceed. Andre is right; having the boss’s attention isn’t a good thing, and right now, his gaze is pinned to Charlie’s profile on our website. He’ll want something, and he’ll want it soon.

Does he know that she’s in my apartment? I don’t know how he doesn’t. He at least knows I took her home for a night, based on my office feed. It wouldn’t be uncommon for producers to take home the girls after a shoot for their own pleasure, but it’s uncommon for me.

I stretch out my neck, vowing that I’ll figure this out. For now, we play the game.

I glance at the box one more time. It could serve as a distraction, but maybe that’s what we both need because, for some odd reason, I need to know the significance of what’s inside.

Grabbing the box in one hand and the carry-on in the other, I head out of the door to do the very thing that’s going to burn down my world and take Charlie from me eventually.