Dysfunctional Hearts by L.S. Pullen

Author:L.S. Pullen [Pullen, L.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-04T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Charlie

I asked Flick to keep it quiet about meeting up with me today, but I’ve been researching something for a few weeks now, and I need her to help me pull it off.

“What do you think?’ I ask her as we survey the empty shop.

“Yeah, it’s kind of perfect, but I don’t know how she’ll feel about you being the beneficiary.”

“She’s too proud and headstrong for her own good. And if I can help make her dreams into a reality from the shadows, then I’m going to do it.”

“I hate the idea of lying to her,” she says, wringing her hands together.

“Listen, all I am is the landlord leasing the shop. The rest is on her. She’ll be the one who has to get this off the ground. It’ll be on her to make it work.”

I hand her the folder containing the contracts I had my solicitor draw up and let out a relieved breath when she takes them.

“You believe in her, don’t you?”

I nod.

She grabs my hand. “Tell me again why you two aren’t together?”

“Because she just wants to be friends,” I say with air quotes.

She eyes me with pity. “I'm not sure she knows what she wants.”

I wish that were true.

“Did she tell you about the dip shit sending her letters?”

Her face pales. “What?”

“That idiot has been posting her nasty letters.”

“You’re joking. I had no idea,” she says, looking both annoyed and worried. “Wait, how do you know about them?”

“I found one on her floor when I went to see her yesterday, and I saw how her face contorted when she read it. I didn’t give her a chance to stop me from reading it. And that’s not all. She was spooked when I got there—something about kids playing knock something ginger.”

She stares at me, confused for a few seconds then lets out a small laugh. “Oh, knock down ginger.”

I roll my eyes.

“What did it say?”

The more I think about it, the more my hackles begin to rise. “You sure you want to know?”

“Yes, I’m her best friend.”

“It said you went doctors, what have you got the clap, you whore?”

She clenches her fist. “What the fuck… why would he say shit like that? She’s wary of guys, but she seems to keep picking the idiots.”

Pacing, she becomes more furious. “She’s not a slag, Charlie. She doesn’t sleep with a different guy every week. And even if she did, that still wouldn’t make her a slag or a whore. It’s her fucking body. And it’s her choice.” Her breathing comes out harsh, and I blanch, slowly stepping toward her, palms up.

I take her shoulders in my hands. “Please don’t work yourself up. I’m struggling to hold my shit together as it is. I am this close to tracking the cunt down and gutting him,” I say, barely separating my finger from my thumb in front of her face.

A few stray tears escape her lids. I swipe them away and pull her into my chest. I’m an arsehole. She doesn’t need me making this shit worse.

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