Page 23 of The Collector


  She jumps down from the bale of hay and storms away from me to the other side of the barn, pushing past people as she moves.

  “Charlie,” I yell.

  She keeps going without turning back.

  I run to catch up to her, and people start to stare. I don’t care. I don’t give a rat’s ass about anything but her.

  Charlie reaches the back of the barn. There’s no door. Nowhere for her to go. She turns and faces me, her eyes blazing. “Get away from me,” she growls.

  The sound of her voice shocks me. It makes my muscles feel like glue, sticky and thick. I reach out to touch her but stop myself. I’m afraid she’ll pull away.

  Terrified she’ll insist I leave.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Playing Games

  “Charlie.” I say her name so softly it hurts my throat. Like her very name is too much for me to manage. “Please. I have to talk to you.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she spits. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  Some dude walks up between us, stands near Charlie. “There a problem?”

  He glares at me, and I fight every impulse to rip his head from his shoulders.

  “Move. Away,” I snarl.

  The guy stares at me for a moment, his eyes running up and down my frame, sizing me up to see if he can take me. Realizing he can’t, he raises his hands and moves away, the look on his face saying he never cared in the first place.

  I glance back at Charlie. She’s eyeing me like I did something unspeakable to her, like she’s found me out. Still, I can’t walk away.

  “Can we go outside for a minute?” I ask. “I promise I’ll leave once you hear me out.”

  Charlie steps close to me. She leans her head toward mine, her lips brushing my ear. Her voice is so calm, it raises goose bumps on my arms. “I want you to leave, Dante. I want you to stay away from me. You came for one thing, and I’m giving it to you.” She pulls back, and I notice her eyes have filled with tears. I reach up to rub them away, but she jerks away like I slapped her. Her head tilts, and her face swims with pain. “Go. I’m begging you.”

  I came here tonight to protect Charlie, to keep her safe from collectors, from people trying to take her light. But I’ve already done it. It was me who asked her to sign that contract. Me who pushed her to fulfill it. Me who brought the tears slipping down her cheeks. She may have cared about me once, but that’s gone now. I can see it in the way she’s looking at me. She sees me for what I am. Arrogant. Egotistical.

  Selfish.

  I back away from Charlie, because as much as I want to protect her from what’s coming, I can’t stand seeing her cry while knowing it’s my fault. Charlie is generous and happy, a loyal friend and an honest person.

  And she is beautiful.

  Inside, Charlie glows—her soul’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. And on the outside, she’s even more beautiful. Not just the way she is now, though she is killing it tonight, enough to take my breath away, but the way she was. The bounce of her hair when she jumped on the bed, the glow of her skin when she told me about the charity, the curve of her mouth when she said she liked the sound the world made. And her eyes—I’ve never seen as much life in anyone’s eyes as I do hers.

  Charlie is beautiful.

  And I convinced her she wasn’t.

  She knows what I did was wrong, making her feel bad about who she is. She went along with it for a while, maybe because she secretly desired traditional beauty and popularity. Or maybe because she sought my approval. And I bet…when I didn’t kiss her…she decided I wasn’t interested—that I’d been playing her all along. This last thought stings going down.

  I take one last look at Charlie, her drowned eyes and parted mouth, and turn to go.

  Not sure where I’m headed, I leave the barn and head for the woods. I don’t make it twenty feet outside before stopping. Charlie may hate me, and I have to live with the fact that I caused that. But there’s something much bigger to think about. In two days, I’m certain Boss Man will send another collector, or all his collectors, and force Charlie to fulfill the contract faster.

  A jolt of nerves rushes through my bloodstream like a shot of adrenaline. I have to take my feelings out of this. If Charlie hates me, is disgusted with me, so be it. I won’t leave here without her. If I have to drag her out kicking and screaming, I’m not going to let someone hurt her the way I have—or worse.

  My heart pumps hard as I march toward the barn. Nothing will stop me from rescuing this girl. Not even if she despises me.

  I spot Charlie sitting in a circle of people, leaning against Annabelle’s shoulder. I walk toward the circle, but no one notices me over the music, which sounds much louder than before. Overhead, I notice someone has killed the multicolored lights so that the only glow comes from the disco ball. I swallow hard, then open my mouth to call for Charlie. I’ll make a scene. Yell her name over and over until everyone pushes for her to go just to shut me up.

  But I stop before her name reaches my lips.

  In the center of the circle, I see a bottle. More importantly, I see Charlie reaching for it, her fingers closing over the green glass. It spins beneath her hand, and every breath I’d been holding rushes out. My head spins. This isn’t the girl I know. The girl I met eight days ago would be inside, searching for a soda amongst the liquor, making awkward conversation with people who don’t care. But now she’s here. Playing a make-out game. Wearing way too little clothing.

  She watches the bottle spin to a stop, and so do I, because my body won’t operate anymore. It’s frozen in horror, anticipating what I don’t want to watch. In my head, I make bargains with no one in particular.

  Don’t let her kiss anyone, and I’ll start being a better person. I’ll eat vegetables. Save baby seals.

  The bottle lands on a guy I can’t identify. From where I’m standing, I can only see the back of his head. Charlie leans forward, and so does the guy. I gasp like a chick, and my blood solidifies.

  Please. Don’t do it. Decide I’m too important. Decide you care too much. That you never realized it until now.

  Charlie’s head tilts to the side, and her lips connect with the guy’s lips. With their heads turned like that, I can see that the guy she’s kissing, the guy who’s shaking with nerves, is Blue.

  Something explodes in my chest. It turns my entire body inside out until all my organs, all my muscle and tissue, is exposed.

  Red flashes in front of my eyes, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m storming toward her.

  Moving like a hurricane.

  Chapter Forty-four

  Fire

  I grab Charlie’s arm and yank her up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Her blue eyes widen, like she’s surprised I’m still here. “Dante,” she says.

  It’s all she can get out, because before she can add anything else, I’m scooping her into my arms and carrying her ass out of the barn. She screams and kicks and yells just like I thought she would. Behind me, I wait for a blow from Blue. But it never comes—whether it’s because Annabelle’s telling him to stay put or he doesn’t know how to react, I’m not sure. And I don’t care.

  I carry Charlie into the forest, far away from the barn and the path and the people who might interrupt. Ensuring we’re alone, I set her down. Once her feet hit the ground, she stops yelling and limps a few steps away from me.

  “You have no right,” she says, and I can tell she means it.

  “The hell I don’t,” I retort.

  She spins around and steps toward me. “What did you just say?”

  I think about it, because even though I said it two seconds ago, I can’t remember.

  “Who do you think you are?” Charlie’s lips push out, and her head falls to the side like she’s inspecting me, like I’m an exhibit at some dusty museum. “You wanted me to sign that contract. I did. You wanted to convince me I wasn’t beautiful. It worked. Then…then you pretended you cared. And I b
ought it.” She covers her mouth like she wants to stop what’s coming. Her words slide out quiet and muffled, but they slice through me like blades. “Everything I did, I did because of you.”

  I concentrate on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It seems like the only thing I can do, because my body is trying to absorb what she just said. This is my fault, and she knows it. I was sure she did, but to hear her say it, to hear it out there—it kills.

  I turn my back to her and take a few steps away. There are things I need to say, and I can’t watch her face as I’m saying it. “Charlie, I know you’re angry with me.”

  I pause, waiting for her to tell me just how angry. She doesn’t.

  “But you need to know the truth. I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I stop, considering what I just said. “Actually, I guess I did mean for this to happen. At first. But then I got to know you, Charlie. I got to see how you are, the things you do for other people. The way you smile when there’s nothing left to smile about, and the way you laugh…it hurts to even hear it. Because it reminds me what it’s like to live. To be happy.” I take a deep breath. “You are beautiful, Charlie. You’re so beautiful, and I can’t believe I let you think you weren’t.”

  I turn around but focus on the ground. I can’t see her face. It’ll end me. But my eyes are deceitful, and before I can gouge them from my face, they slide up and land on her. On Charlie. And she’s crying. Tears rolling down her cheeks, sliding into a wide, happy smile.

  “You’re smiling,” I say.

  She nods, her grin stretching further.

  The way she’s looking at me, like she never really stopped believing in me, it shatters my heart, reveals something I buried long ago. And it’s suddenly too much. I can’t take it anymore, can’t deny what I’m feeling. My breath catches, and before I can stop myself, the words tumble out.

  “I love you, Charlie,” I say. “I fucking love you so much.”

  A gasp escapes her throat as I race toward her. I tug her against me and smash my mouth over hers. I feel everything—her hair between my fingers, her skin pressing against mine. And her lips. I feel those soft pink lips freeze for a moment beneath my kiss. And then I feel her relax, opening her mouth and mirroring my movements. She leans into me, twining her arms around my neck, pulling me so that there’s nothing between us.

  I grab her thighs and hoist her up, and she wraps her legs around me. Fumbling toward a tree, I press her back against it and push toward her, my hips locking against hers. An animalistic groan escapes my throat as I kiss her harder, deeper. I trail my lips down her neck and along her collarbone, and Charlie softly moans. Then I bury my head against her chest and take her in—her smell, her chest rising and falling. The wild thumping of her heart.

  Slowly, I let her down, easing her legs from around my waist and back to the ground. I pull her head against me and hold it there, never wanting to let her go. Not for anyone or anything. My arms pull her closer and closer until I’m afraid I may crush her. But I can’t let up. I’m afraid if I do, she’ll realize I’m not worthy of her. Afraid to hear her say she doesn’t feel the same way. That she thinks I’m great, but she’s completely toasted, and we shouldn’t mention this tomorrow.

  Even though I’ve got her in a death grip, she manages to pull her head back and gaze up at me. Her pink lips are bright and swollen, and I can’t help rubbing my thumb over them.

  She kisses the tip of my finger, and I squeeze my eyes shut as tightly as I can. So I don’t see when she opens her lips. I don’t see when she pulls in a breath and swallows and whispers to me, “I love you, Dante. I’ve loved you from the start.”

  But I hear her say it, and that’s all I need to crumble. Almost choking on my words, I manage to ask, “Why?”

  I open my eyes and find Charlie smiling. She runs her hand over my cheek, then leans back against my chest. “Because I see you. Even though you try so hard to hide, I see you, anyway.”

  What she says feels so good that when my breath rushes out, it’s mixed with laughter. Two days ago, I couldn’t imagine chancing my life for hers. And now I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I will protect this girl with everything I have, because if something happens to her, I will lose myself. I will cease to exist. And I will take everyone with me.

  With unfathomable effort, I pull away from her and take her face in my hands. “Charlie, I need to tell you something.”

  Her eyes lock on mine, and she smiles wider, assuming I have more good things to tell her. Things that will bring us closer together. I imagine the way her face will change when I tell her everything, and the weight of it drags me down. I need to protect her. I need to tell her the truth about me and the contract. But I can’t lose her. Not after what just happened between us.

  “I want you to stop asking for beauty. I love the way you look, okay?” I gently squeeze her face between my hands. “Can you promise me you won’t ask for anything else? It’s important to me.”

  Charlie’s eyes fall to my chest. I sense it instantly, that there’s something she’s not admitting.

  “What is it?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ll try not to,” she says. “I really will.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll ‘try not to’? Can’t you just promise me?”

  She pulls her face from my hands and steps away. “It’s getting harder…to not ask for things. It’s like the longer I go without asking for something, the more anxious I get. It started after the first time, but I figured I was just excited to add new things.” She pauses, wrapping her arms around herself. “But flying back from Vegas after I, you know, changed my skin…I felt physically sick. Like my body was screaming for me to do something else, something new. It scared me, so I waited as long as I could. Decided I should take a break to get some perspective.”

  Charlie turns and faces me, and I find I can’t move. I don’t want to hear what she’s saying, but she opens her mouth and continues anyway.

  “But the more I resisted, the sicker I felt. When you came by last night, I was feeling the worst of it. I was shaking and sweating. I knew what it was, and in the middle of the night, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I asked for something. Something small. Just a little wish to better my smile. The second I made the request, it’s like the sickness was vacuumed from my body. It was just…gone.” Fear flashes behind her eyes.

  “Why is this happening, Dante? I thought I could go at my own pace.”

  I fight to control my anger—anger with Boss Man for putting a target on her, and anger with myself for following orders. I take Charlie’s hands. “Because they know how perfect your soul is, and they want it. But listen to me, you have to fight it. You have to fight it for as long as you possibly can, understand? Do you feel okay right now?”

  She nods, but she still looks terrified.

  “Good. If it hits again, the sickness, call me and I’ll be there. We’ll work through it.”

  Charlie presses her lips together like she’s thinking about something. “It’s okay, though, right? I mean, my soul will go to heaven.” She shakes her head like she’s being silly. “I’m being stupid over nothing.”

  “You’re not being stupid. The truth is…” I grab Charlie by the shoulders and swallow hard. “The truth is, your soul may be in danger.”

  “Danger?” Her eyes widen, and even that tears me apart. I don’t want her to be afraid, but she has to know.

  “Charlie. There are collectors for heaven, like I told you.” So far, I’m not lying. I just have to get through this. Get it over with. “But there are other collectors, too. Different ones.”

  “Different how?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

  “They…they don’t work for…” I point upward.

  “Oh, my gosh,” Charlie says, pulling away from me. “There are collectors from hell, too?”

  I nod, because I can’t get any words out.

  She covers her mouth, and tears spring to her eyes. When she speaks again, I can ba
rely hear her. She starts crying, because she already knows. She knows something feels off, and here’s the explanation. “Do they want my soul, too?”

  Again, I nod.

  “But I signed the contract,” she blurts, dropping the hand from her mouth. “Everything’s okay. I’ll just fulfill the contract, and then they can’t get it. Right? Right, Dante?”

  Charlie steps toward me, lays her hands on my chest, begs me to tell her she’s right. That they can’t take her soul.

  I realize then that I’m not strong enough to tell her. I’ve spent nineteen years being selfish, taking whatever I wanted without question. And there’s nothing—nothing—I want more than Charlie. I can’t tell her. I can’t have the fear on her face be because of me.

  “The paper you signed,” I say softly. “It’s a general contract. I didn’t know it was going to work out like this.”

  It’s the truth. I imagine if Big Guy had a contract, it’d include the same verbiage. The only thing that matters is who it’s presented by. Which side they work for. And it’s true that I didn’t know it’d work out like this. I never could have predicted that I’d fall in love with my assignment.

  I’m about to try and explain why we can’t be certain her soul will go to heaven—without exposing myself—when I sense him.

  The collector.

  He’s here.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Trust

  I step in front of Charlie, ready to protect her with my life if needed.

  “What is it?” Charlie asks, noticing the way my face changes.

  I step toward where I feel the pull, keeping Charlie close behind me. Then I see it. A flash of red. When I realize it’s Valery and not the collector sent to tail me, I relax. Still, I can’t talk to her with Charlie here.

  I face Charlie and wrap my hands around her jaw. “Can you do something for me? Can you wait for me up at the house?”

  “Dante, you’re scaring me.”

  “No. Don’t be scared, baby.” I kiss her lightly on the tip of her nose, then again on her forehead. “I’ll be right behind you. Go now, okay?”