Make Me Forget (14 page)

“If it ever gets to be too much, let me know, okay? No questions asked.”

“Okay. But I think I’ll be fine.”

He opens his door and pins me with a look when I reach for my handle. Once he opens my door, I grab his hand in one of mine and the wine in the other. We walk up the steps, and I notice the ramp going up to the house. He opens the door and squeezes my hand before shouting, “We’re here!”

“Hey, Trav,” a deep voice calls, and he tugs me in the direction of it. I’m greeted by his brother, who looks so much like Travis it’s scary. Same black hair, same piercing blue eyes. He’s a few inches taller than Travis, but not as bulky.

I smile and wave, and he winks at me. When I turn my head to see his dad sitting in a chair, I can’t help the giggle that escapes me. It’s no wonder where they get their looks. Holy cow! If I want to know what he’s going to look like in twenty-five years, he’s staring at me right now with an amused expression.

“Hi. I’m Steve, Travis’s dad.”

“Yeah, I see that. The resemblance is insane.” I walk over to his outstretched hand and let out a little yelp when he pulls me down to give me a hug. “Thanks for making my boy smile again,” he whispers in my ear, and I fight back tears at his admission.

“He’s a good man,” I tell him.

I pull back and smile at Travis, immediately feeling more relaxed. He’s leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed but turns when a familiar voice calls his name.

“Hey, Mom.”

He leans down to hug his mother, and then turns with her under his arm.

“Mom, this is Charlotte.”

I look into a pair of eyes that have been staring back at me for at least an hour per week for the past six months. When recognition sets in, she sucks in a breath. I cover my mouth and drop the wine, glass and fruity liquid spilling all over the floor. Everything goes dark, and I feel myself falling.

16

Travis

“Mom, this is Charlotte.” I look at my girl with such pride, so happy I can finally introduce the two women I love to each other. My mom sucks in a breath and Charlotte’s eyes go wide as her skin pales, and she drops the bottle of wine. Her beautiful eyes roll back in her head, and she starts to fall. Instincts kick in, and I reach her right before her head hits the floor.

“What the hell?” I ask out loud. More to myself than anyone. Why in the hell would she faint like that?

“Oh, my. This is not good.” Mom returns from the kitchen with a wet rag. I quickly check Char’s pulse and cradle her limp body in my arms before walking to the couch.

“What the hell, man?” Brandon repeats.

“I don't know. Fuck. Charlotte, sweetheart, wake up.” I rest the cloth on her forehead and rub her face, trying to stir a reaction.

“She’s a patient of mine,” Mom says. I freeze and hang my head.
Dammit
.

“Why?”

“You know I can’t tell you. I shouldn’t have even admitted I see her.” I grunt my disagreement and hold her a little tighter in my arms, afraid she’s going to run as soon as she wakes up. 

My dad and brother are next to us with their eyebrows scrunched. “Anything we can do?” Dad asks.

“Nah, maybe leave us alone. You’ll probably freak her out staring at her like that.”

“’Kay, man. Holler if you need anything.” Brandon pats my shoulder as he walks by and Dad pulls Mom down to whisper something to her. When she shakes her head, I see him freeze except for his hands that are gripping the armrest. Fuck. He knows something, too. She kisses him on the cheek as he leaves the room, and she walks over to me as Char stirs.

“You’re going to need to give her some space.” She’s in full therapist mode now. Her voice soft, yet assuring.

“I know, Mom. What do you think I’ve been doing?”

“Travis?” Charlotte’s soft voice calls.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m right here.” I rub my hands up and down her arms, reassuring her I’m not going anywhere. 

Her eyes flutter open, and the second they spot my mom, she pulls back and sits up off my lap, backing herself into the corner of the couch. Fuck that. She’s not doing this alone. I scoot next to her and wrap an arm around her shoulder. Her body is so stiff, and she’s shaking like crazy.

“Charlotte, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Mom starts to walk toward her.

“No, no. This can’t be happening.” Her breathing becomes shallow, and each respiration she takes seems to cause her pain.

I get on my knees in front of her and grab her hands. “Sweetheart, listen to me. Listen to my voice. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I’m right here with you, but I need you to breathe for me, okay.”

Mom squeezes my shoulder reassuringly, but my eyes don’t leave Charlotte.

She doesn’t answer, but slowly her shaking subsides, and her breathing returns to normal. When she looks up, her tear stained face and the pain in her eyes
hurts
me. My stomach lurches, and I have to take a few deep breaths to calm my anger. Somebody hurt her bad enough to cause her to become this… shell of her former self.

She was so close to telling me the other night, too, but I couldn’t stand to see her in pain like that. Now I’m pissed that I don’t know everything, but my mom does. I turn to look at her over my shoulder, and she knows what I’m asking. I want to know who hurt Char, and how. She shakes her head at me and mouths, ‘I can’t’. Damn ethics.

“I’m so sorry.” Char’s soft words push me back into reality, and I quickly turn back to her.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You okay? Need anything?”

“Yeah, for this to never have happened.”

“Travis, can you give us a minute?” Mom’s not really asking, so I stand and lean over Charlotte, resting my head on hers, effectively blocking her view so the only thing she can see is me. I talk quietly so my mother doesn’t hear. I want her to know that she’s not alone anymore. 

“This changes nothing, okay? Absolutely nothing.” She nods and I continue, “We don’t have to stay. If you want to leave, say the word.”

“I want to.” She bites her lip and blinks back tears. “God, I want to run out so bad.”

“No more running away from me. I’m here. We can leave, but we do it together.”

Her hand caresses my cheek, and she looks into my eyes. “I know.” She gives me a soft kiss and pulls me down on the couch next to her.

“We can talk in front of him.” I sit back, shocked that Char said that, and look at Mom with a raised eyebrow. If Charlotte wants me to stay, then I stay. 

Whenever Mom thinks, she taps her hands on her leg, much like she’s doing now. She nods her head, decision made. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“If she wants me here, then I’m here. I don't care if you're her therapist or not, I’ll do whatever she’s comfortable with.”

“Okay.” She looks at me disapprovingly; the look only a mother could give then turns her attention solely on Charlotte. “You must have questions.” Char nods, and Mom continues, “Please, ask away.”

Her warm body presses further into mine, and she grabs my hand. Her grip is so tight, it almost hurts, but if it brings her comfort, I’m not saying anything. I’m fucking thrilled she’s using me as an anchor.

“Your last name, it’s not Parker.”

“No, it’s not. Well, legally it’s Reynolds hyphen Parker. I kept my maiden name because I was already seeing patients before I married Steve.”

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess.” She begins tapping her foot nervously and chewing on her nail. Tears well up in her eyes, and I look at Mom for help, to keep her talking. I hate seeing her like this.

As my mom begins to speak, Charlotte jumps up. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

She runs out the front door and I get up to follow, but stop in the hall, giving her a minute to herself. Rubbing my hands down my face, I let out a growl of frustration. This is like my worst nightmare come to life. I’m completely helpless, and it’s driving me crazy. I can handle a lot of emotions; anger, sadness, pain… but helplessness is not one of them.

“Give her some time.” My mom rubs my back and tries to soothe me. “This is a huge shock to her and–”

I cut her off, because
I
don’t need a therapist right now. “I know that, Mom. Jesus, you think I’m a fucking idiot?”

“Watch your tone, son.” Dad’s baritone voice echoes to me in the front hall.

“Sorry, Mom,” I mumble. “She started telling me stuff yesterday, and I stopped her because it was too much. Now, I wish I knew.”

“In due time. She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

“Thanks.” I lean down and give her a kiss on the head and holler ‘bye’ to my dad and Brandon.

“Oh, and Travis?”

“Yeah?”

“We will be having a discussion about how you guys met.” With those parting words, she turns and walks back to the kitchen. She knows. Great, my mom thinks I’m a sleazeball now. Fucking hell.

When I get to my car, Charlotte isn’t inside, and I immediately panic. I was only in the house for a few minutes, tops, before I came out here. I wanted to give her a couple minutes alone. She said we’d leave together. Christ, I can’t fucking win lately.

“Char!” I yell down the driveway. I look left and right. Up the street and down. My voice rises as I continue to yell her name and run around the house. My dad and brother hear the commotion and come out.

“She’s gone! She’s fucking gone!” I rub the top of my head and open my car door to go look for her.

“Relax, man. She couldn’t have gone far.” Brandon grabs my shoulder and tugs me back. “Let me drive.”

I throw my keys at him and jog to the passenger side; I’m really in no position to drive right now. He leans down to say something to Dad. My father takes out his phone, and Brandon gets in and starts the engine. I dial her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. The blood running through my veins is hot, boiling. How can she be so careless? She’s in an area she doesn’t know.

Brandon pulls out of the driveway and asks, “Any idea where she’d go?”

“No!” Yelling isn't going to help, but it makes me feel better. “She’s not even from here. What the fuck, man? I gave her like two minutes. Where the hell did she go?”

“We’ll find her, Trav. She couldn’t have gone far. I’m sure she’s at the park or

something.”

Two hours later and we still haven’t found her. We drove around the neighborhood, went into stores and restaurants, asking if anyone saw her. Nothing. It’s like she fucking vanished. My dad calls in a few favors and Brandon does the same. We’ve got cops looking for her now even though she’s only been missing for a few hours.

A few hours turns into five, then seven. The sun has set and a moon takes its place. The glow from the big white crescent reflects on my car as I sit on the front step of my parents’ porch. I really want a fucking drink right now, but I can’t. I fucked up enough a few weeks ago, and I know I can’t do that again. We drove everywhere. Brandon and Dad are making some more calls while I sit here, feeling helpless.

I have to do something; I can’t sit here and wait. The anger that was running through me has turned into straight up fear. I don’t get scared. Fear can kill you in my line of work. You learn to push fear aside. Right now, it’s mocking me, dangling in my face. My feet make up my mind before the rest of my body, and I practically run to my car.

“Wait.” Brandon has been using his cop voice, and I want nothing more than to punch him in the throat so I don’t have to listen to him patronizing me. I ignore him and keep walking. “I said wait.”

“No.” The tremble in my hands causes me to fumble with the door handle. After the third try, I finally lift the lever, but Brandon’s hand halts the progress I made.

“Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone.” I grit the words through my teeth and try to shove him out of the way, but he doesn't budge. “Don’t fuck with me right now, brother.”

“You need to calm down and think this through.” There goes that damn voice again.

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do. You have no idea what the fuck this feels like. How in the hell did she disappear, man?” My voice fades away, but I try to maintain my composure. I’m about to fall apart. I have no control right now, and I feel my strength slipping away.

“Yeah, I do. The hollow feeling where–”

The ringing of my phone interrupts, indicating Meara calling on the screen.

“You heard anything?” I’ve called both Meara and Pierce to let them know what was happening. They checked her place and have been looking, too.

“She’s fine, she’s okay.” Breathless, Meara continues, “She’s at a hotel by the interstate. Some pay by the day thing.”

That’s in a shitty part of town. How did she get there?

“I’m on my way.”

“Wait!” I barely hear her as I pull the phone away to hang up. Brandon stands with his arms crossed eyeing me expectantly as I mouth Pay-By-Day Motel and get in my car. I’m already pulling onto the street before I put the phone back to my ear.

“What’s up?” I need to get to Charlotte.

“She told me not to call you, Travis.”

“What?” I whisper, hurt she doesn’t want me. It doesn’t matter. I’m getting her back.

“She told me what happened. Well, I barely understood because she was crying so hard, but she told me. Listen, I wanted you to know she’s okay.”

“I don’t give a fuck if she doesn’t want me, I’m going.”

“Travis, I–”

“I don’t fucking care! She’s mine to take care of, Meara. Mine. This running away shit has got to fucking stop. I’m done with it.”

I hear her hesitate. “Maybe you should give her some time.”

“Nope. Not happening. Thanks for the call.” I hang up on her and throw the phone in the passenger seat. I do a double take when I notice Char’s purse on the floor in the back. She has no money, no phone. Jesus. The hammering in my chest creeps into my head, and I shake the horrible thoughts jumbling my mind right now. I’m so mad at her; but really, I want to hold her. I need to hold her.

“I called Dad. He let everyone know and said they’re available if we need them.” Brandon followed me here and flashed his badge at the old lady working the desk.

Pay-By-Day is a cheap motel on the outskirts of town. It’s dirty, small, smelly, old, and nasty. We’re waiting for her to look through her book, and the trash littering the floor moves, I actually jump a bit.

“The garbage is moving,” I whisper shout to Travis.

“So?”

“So, what the fuck is this place?”

“Primarily it’s where druggies go to get laid. You can pay by the hour.”

I raise my eyebrows in question.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m a detective; it’s my job to know this shit.”

The attendant insists nobody is here by that name. Brandon holds me back before I reach over and grab the keys to check every room myself.

“I’m really sorry, boys. Nobody has checked in since yesterday.” She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead and shrugs her shoulders. “You can ask the maid if she’s seen her. She’s all the way at the end. Number twenty-five.”