Thrive by Rebecca Sherwin Page B

me, gripping his phone until his hands shook. “Don’t do that.”
    “Do what?”
    “Get involved in this.”
    “I wasn’t.” He stepped towards me and caged me in once more.
    “I could have handled Charlie. You don’t get to have a say in this.”
    “Don’t you dare.” I shoved at his chest. “I’ll say whatever the hell I want. You can handle Charlie? What if she turns up at your apartment to use whatever skills she has to convince you to change your mind? Then what? Are you ready to deal with her?”
    “No.” He bowed his head. “I just don’t want you to be a part of this.”
    “I’m not. You go and deal with Charlie and get her money. I’ll be there when you get back.”
    “And how long does that go on for?”
    “Until we have a plan.”
    “Then we need to come up with something fast. I can't risk a run-in with you and Charlie.”
    “Fine.” I relaxed against the glass as we neared the ground. “But there’s something more important we need to do first.”
    “What’s that?” He eyed me cautiously.
    “Eat.” I grinned. “I’m starving.”
    He shook his head with a smile. “Where do you put it all?”
    “My backside.”
    “Mmm,” he groaned, lowering his hands. “I love your backside.”
    The capsule reached the ground before we could enjoy Curtis’ love of my exceptionally-sized ass.

 
 
Eleven
     
    Charlie was waiting when I arrived outside her apartment. I’d be driving, so I couldn’t drink. At least I could make a quick exit. I could escape and hide, just for a second, and pretend the mere sight of her didn’t create a raucous in my head, a hard-on in my pants and the urge to castrate myself for wanting to act on it. The poor American would be bled dry. He’d be left begging outside food banks for a tin of tomato soup and stale bread, wishing he’d never given in to Charlie’s charm. Was there a doubt in my mind how she’d managed to acquire the power to have access to where he was staying, the knowledge of where he was going to be all night, and the password to his Mac? Not one. What did I want to do about it? Kill something.
    Where did I go when I dropped her off and refused to go up with her?
    Joes.
    ~Curtis~
     
    Nine pm came and went, ten pm passed, eleven pm disappeared and midnight struck and faded into the early hours of the next day. Curtis hadn’t come back. I tried reading a book, I watched TV, I cleaned the apartment and I showered while I waited for him. I grew edgier with every second that ticked by and the tension seemed to echo around the quiet space. Curtis was right, again. We couldn’t keep playing whatever game he was involved in with Charlie. I couldn’t trust her; I wouldn’t trust her to look after him. I knew he was on the verge of breaking; she must have, too. She must have witnessed the nightmares, seen the look in his eyes that said he was lost, afraid and vulnerable, no matter how much he tried to hide it. She exploited that, used it to make her rich and if she broke him, I’d ruin her. I didn’t care how much money she had, I didn’t care how dangerous she was; if she hurt Curtis, I would make her pay.
    I had no idea where he was, and what they were doing. I was powerless and I hated that as much as I hated pity.
    I was pacing the living area, contemplating calling the police when there was a thump on the door. It sounded like someone was trying to break in and terror struck. Thump after thump filled the room and then a faint scratching sound. More thumping. I was frozen, stuck to the spot and held down by fear. Had Charlie found out and come looking for me? I felt a slight thrill at the thought and suddenly understood why Curtis did what he did. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to feel pain so she could no longer inflict it on Curtis. I squared my shoulders and straightened my back; I was prepared to fight as I crossed the room.  I threw open the door and was brought to the floor when The Hulk tumbled in and took me with