Page 66 of Heartless Devil

Even those of us that don’t deserve it.

I decide against chasing after her, this one time.

I don’t see Charlie for the rest of the night. I’m sure she’s locked herself up in her room to avoid running into me. Before it gets too late, I head over to Tyler’s to get my stuff.

“Hey, man. I was wondering if you were still going to come by,” he says, opening the door.

“I told you it would be later.”

“I wish you’d tell me where you’re staying.”

“It’s not a big deal. I found a place. That’s all that matters.”

“When are you going to tell me what went down with your parents?” he asks.

I shrug. I have no intention of ever telling him about the mess I’ve gotten myself into, but he doesn’t need to know that. I knew that there was a chance I’d get in over my head, and I did.

It’s just unfortunate that my dad found out before I could get it taken care of.

“Don’t mention any of this to my sister. I don’t want her to even know I was here for a few days. I can’t let my parents get any more information than they already have.”

“It’s a lot easier to keep secrets if you know why you’re keeping them,” he says, grabbing some of my bags from his bedroom.

“When have you ever doubted me?” I ask him.

“Never, but you’re also not usually this secretive when it comes to whatever is going on in your life,” he says before leaving the room.

He’s not wrong. We don’t usually have secrets. I’m just trying to keep as many people in the dark as I can.

Charlie’s house is dark when I pull into the driveway, except for one light upstairs, which I’m assuming is hers. I take my bags upstairs and toss them in my room before walking towards her bedroom door.

“You awake?” I ask, knocking on the door.

“Go away, Cole,” she responds.

I smirk. She thinks if she avoids me then whatever is going on between us will just disappear.

She’s wrong.

“Where’s the fun in that, princess?”

“Fuck off,” she responds.

“Aw, come on. I’m lonely,” I say, leaning my head against the door.

She opens the door, and I almost tumble inside.

“What do you want?” she asks, leaning against the doorframe.

She looks like a fucking wet dream.

Her long hair is falling past her shoulders––it appears to be messy from laying in her bed. She’s wearing the tiniest tank top and pair of shorts I’ve ever seen her in.

“Hello?” she says, waving her well-manicured hand in front of my face.

“Sorry. You look good enough to eat,” I say, grinning.

“Okay, goodnight,” she says, trying to shut the door in my face.