Chapter 8

Shannon was drinking coffee in the kitchen, watching Charlie toss and turn on the couch when a shrill ringing filled the room. Charlie sat up sharply, looking around frantically to find her bearings. “Charlie, it’s ok. It’s the phone.” Charlie relaxed as Shannon’s calming tone hit her ears. “I’ll get it. Take a breath.”

            Charlie inhaled and exhaled deeply, keeping her eyes focused on Shannon, letting the haunting thoughts out with each breath. “Thanks.” Her voice shook with that one word.

            “No problem,” Shannon smiled, reaching across the marble breakfast bar to grab the white phone to silence the noise. Charlie averted her eyes when Shannon’s usual oversized T-shirt dropped to reveal her bare C-cup breasts. “Hello?” Shannon answered brightly. “Can you hold on one sec?” Shannon placed the phone on her shoulder and called out to Charlie. “Hey, do you know a Charlotte Robinson?”

            Charlie’s head snapped towards Shannon. “Why?” she asked through gritted teeth.

            “This guy’s asking for her,” Shannon replied, noticing Charlie’s body tense. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”

            Charlie shook her head and pushed herself off the couch. “No. I’ll deal with it,” she huffed. Shannon met Charlie halfway from the kitchen and passed her the phone before taking her seat in front of the computer, all while keeping her eyes on Charlie. “Hello? Yeah?” Charlie frowned. “Who is this?” she demanded. “What the hell do you want?” Shannon didn’t know if she was turned on or terrified by the growl that came from Charlie. “Fine,” Charlie sighed, almost in defeat. “I can be there in about twenty minutes. Bye.”

            Charlie dropped the phone on the black glass coffee table and rubbed her face harshly. “Charlie, what’s wrong?” Shannon pushed, hoping the guarded woman would let her in just this once.

            “I’ve got to go,” was all Shannon got back.

            Charlie seemed to be on auto-pilot as she slipped on a pair of beat up, grey Vans. Shannon walked over to the frantic woman and held her shoulders. “Charlie, who was that? They’ve got you messed up.”

            “I’m not your problem,” Charlie snapped. Shannon took a step back. She wasn’t scared, she was giving her space. “I’m sorry,” Charlie sighed before bolting out of the apartment.

            Shannon watched the door close behind Charlie. “You’re not a problem.”