Unmasking Charlotte (a Taboo Love series) (28 page)

Charlotte

The next morning, I wake up, take a shower, and head to my closet for something to wear. I go through almost every pair of pants I own and nothing fits. The only thing I can get into are a pair of yoga pants, but now I have to find a shirt that will stretch over my ever-growing belly. I find a T-shirt that fits then grab my phone. First, I call
into work for a personal day because I seriously need to get something to wear that actually fits right. Then I call Delilah, hoping that she can convince Nick to let her leave work early so she can go shopping for maternity clothes with me.

“Hey, Charlie, what’s up?” Delilah answers.

“Hey, do you think you can get out of work and go shopping with me? I have no clothes,” I huff.

Delilah laughs. “What do you need me for?”

“Seriously? I need someone to be honest with me and tell me if I look like an ogre in a muumuu when I try stuff on!”

Delilah barks out a laugh before answering. “Let me see what I can do, I’ll call you back in a few.”

She hangs up on me and I growl at my phone before my stomach growls back at me, letting me know that two certain someones are hungry. I think about calling Calvin, but I push that aside. I’ll call him later when I get back from shopping. Maybe.

Delilah calls me back about ten minutes later saying that she’ll come pick me up in twenty minutes. Sweet! I put on a little bit of makeup, brush my hair, and go about trying to find a pair of shoes that fit my swollen feet. Good god, pregnancy sucks. I shove my feet into my sneakers, which are tight, but will have to do until I can get a bigger pair.

Delilah knocks on my door a few minutes later. As soon as I open the door, her hands are on my belly. She rubs it like a Buddha and bends over to kiss it on each side, saying, “One for you, and one for you.” She’s too cute sometimes.

I smile at her and shake my head.

“You ready?” she asks when she straightens up.

“Yep,” I reply, grabbing my purse.

We move into the hallway and I lock the door behind us, then get into Delilah’s car and head for the mall. We chat about stupid little things, keeping the conversation as far away from Calvin as possible. I don’t want to talk about him right now and she knows it. I’m still deciding if I want to call him or not. When we get to the mall, we head right for the maternity store. As we’re walking, I keep getting this strange feeling, like I’m being watched or something. I glance behind us a couple of times but don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“What are you looking for?” Delilah asks as we enter the store.

“I don’t know, I feel like I’m being watched, it’s weird,” I mutter, going to a rack of cute shirts.

“Hmm, that is weird,” Delilah agrees. “Does Calvin know where you are? Maybe he’s hiding behind one of the ferns, just making sure you’re okay,” she giggles.

I sneer at her. “Bitch.”

She laughs, pulling a pair of jeans off a rack and holding them up. They have that large elastic waistband that goes over your belly. “These are cute.”

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”

Ugh! I hate this.

“So has Calvin called you at all?” she asks.

Here we go…

“Called? No. He did text me yesterday wanting to talk.” I sigh.

“And? What did you tell him?” Delilah asks expectantly.

“I told him to take a fucking hike,” I mumble.

“Charlie! Come on! Give the guy a chance. He fucked up, he knows it, and he wants to talk it out; you should talk to him,” Delilah chides.

“I thought you were on my side?” I ask incredulously.

Delilah huffs. “Charlie, you know I’m on your side, but Calvin loves you. And besides this one
– okay, very large - hiccup, he has always treated you like gold, you should call him.”

I grunt, knowing I should, but I can’t make myself pull out my phone to do it.

“Do it now, have him come over later so you guys can talk,” Delilah urges.

She comes over to me and reaches into the outside pocket of my purse where I keep my phone. She holds it out to me with an expectant look on her face. I sigh in defeat and snatch the phone out of her hand.

“I’ll text him,” I mutter.

I quick
ly type in a small message to Calvin and hit send.

Charlotte: Can u come by my apt today at 3:00 so we can talk?

Calvin answers almost immediately.

Calvin: I’ll be there!

Charlotte: Okay, see u then

Calvin: Can’t wait ;)

I can feel my lips twitch at the stupid winking emoticon. I feel a slight weight lift off my shoulders and I know in that moment that I did the right thing. My babies need their daddy and in actuality, so do I. I stuff my phone back in my purse and glare at Delilah, who is grinning at me.

“Happy now?”

She nods. “Very.”

I roll my eyes and go back to looking at th
e tops on the rack. The hairs on the back of my neck rise when I again get the feeling that someone is watching me. I spin around, but don’t see anyone. I try to shake off the odd feeling but it’s difficult.

“You okay?” Delilah asks.

I nod. “Yeah, let’s grab some shit for me to try on,” I say.

Delilah agrees, grabbing a bunch of different pants, dresses, and skirts, while I grab some shirts. We head over to the dressing room so that I can try everything on. We end up laughing a lot as we try to find things that don’t make me look like a complete
heifer. After finally deciding on five pairs of pants, eight shirts, and two dresses, we head to the register to pay.

As we’re standing in line, I continue to look around. I spot the bras. Oh, I definitely need those; I’m spilling out of my normal ones. I grab Delilah and pull her out of line. We go over to the underwear sections and start looking around at all
of the bras.

“Good god, these are ugly,” I mutter.

“What do you expect? They need to hold up your giant milk jugs; they aren’t meant to be sexy,” Delilah snickers.

I sneer at her then grab a bra labeled as a nursing bra. I frown at it. What makes it a nursing bra? I see a little hook at the top of the cup where the strap is. I unhook it and the whole cup falls open.

“Oh. My. God,” I gasp.

Delilah starts cracking up.

“Why does it do that?” I ask, appalled by the whole thing.

“It’s to make breastfeeding easier, dumbass,” Delilah snorts.

I groan.
“So, I guess I will need these if I’m going to breastfeed?”

“You should probably grab a couple, yeah.”

“Fine.”

I pick out a white one and a tan one, making sure to grab ones that are two sizes bigger than what I normally wear. My boobs are the biggest they’ve ever been and I can’t imagine how big they are going to be once they
completely fill with milk. We head back to the register and get back in line.

“I’m sure Calvin will like the easy access,” Delilah teases.

“Once these puppies turn into feeding machines, Calvin is getting nowhere near them. That’s where I draw the line. They cannot be food for our babies and play things for him. That’s too fucking weird,” I say, shuddering at the thought.

Delilah laughs and shakes her head.

“I can’t wait until you get pregnant,” I snarl at her, making her laugh even harder.

I am so exhausted from all
of this trying on, I decide it’s time go back to my apartment, so I can prepare myself for seeing Calvin.

When we finally get back to my apartment, Delilah helps me straighten up. She even vacuums for me quickly. It was getting pretty bad; I haven’t had the energy to push the damn thing around. Having twins really sucks the life out of you. Then she scolds me for not ask
ing for her help before. At 2:45 pm, there is a knock on the door. Shit, he’s a little early and I wanted to take a quick shower before he got here; guess that’s a no-go.

Delilah is finishing up with the dishes as I go to answer the door. Ignoring the bad feeling lingering in the pit of my stomach, I open the door. Standing in my doorway is DeShawn - the man who raped me, the man who changed me forever. His hands are tucked into his front pockets and his head is down. My breath catches. Oh, this can’t be good. He slowly lifts his head and his eyes lock onto mine. I know in that moment that he’s not here just to say “hey.”

A slow, malicious grin curls his mouth. “Hello, Charlotte.”

I fight the urge to gag. Calvin is the only one who calls me Charlotte and in no way do I want my name to be spoken by this man. I try to slam the door shut, but he blocks it with his body and shoves it back open, knocking me on my ass.

“What the fuck?” I hear Delilah bite out angrily, as she makes her way in from the kitchen.

DeShawn steps into the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him. Delilah rushes to my side, helping me back to my feet.

“What do you want, DeShawn?” I ask, my voice surprisingly normal.

“Revenge,” he growls, his grin gone. Pure hat
red is now staring out at me from his dead black eyes as he pulls a gun out from behind his back and points it at me.

Calvin

I show up at Charlotte’s apartment at exactly three o’clock. I’m surprisingly nervous. I just hope that we can work things out. I rub my sweaty palms on my thighs then knock on the door. I hear movement from inside and some hushed wh
ispering, which I find odd. Who’s she talking to? I thought she was going to be alone so that we can talk about our future?

A minute later the door finally opens, but the chain is still attached, so it only opens about six inches. Why the fuck did she keep the chain attached? Charlotte appears at the gap and I instantly know that something is not right here. Her face is forcefully blank but the terror in her eyes is obvious. The way she is looking at me is like she’s trying to communicate something without actually speaking. What the hell is going on?

“Charlotte?” I ask cautiously.

“Cal, I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to talk to you anymore, go away,” she says harshly even though her eyes are telling me something
very different.

She called me Cal, she never calls me Cal. Something is definitely wrong here.

“Seriously? You made me come all of the way over here when you could have just called?” I say in faux annoyance.

Whatever is going on, she needs me to play along. She just gives me a nonchalant shrug.

“Dammit, Charlotte. This is so fucked up,” I snap.

I then have an idea. I pull out my phone and open my text messages. I type, “Are you in trouble?” and show it to her.

“Yep,” she answers, nodding. To anyone else it sounds like she’s replying to what I had said. “So you can just leave and not come back, I don’t want to see you again.”

I quickly type, “I’ll get help and be back as soon as I can” then show it to her. I can see the relief her in eyes. Then she mouths something to me, but I shake my head, not understanding.

“And really, you can go shoot yourself for all I care,” she snarls, playing the part.

My heart freezes in my chest. I’m not lost on what she is telling me. Whoever is in there has a gun. Fuck. I nod, letting her know that I now understand what she is saying.

“Oh, thanks a fucking lot, Charlotte. Ya know what? Screw you, I’m outta here,” I grunt and stomp toward the stairs.

I send her one more glance over my shoulder and I can see the tears welling in her eyes. She doesn’t want me to leave, but what can I do? I have to go get help. I blow her a kiss, put my hand over my heart and mouth to her that I love her. She gives me the subtlest of nods then slams the door shut. It takes everything I have to stay on my feet. My knees want to buckle from the overwhelming fear that is coursing through me right now. But I keep myself together and race down the stairs and out to my truck.
Do I stay and try to do this by myself, or do I leave and get help? What do I do? Who do I call?
Fuck!