CHARLOTTE
Stay Alive.
Those words had been burned into my brain ever since I could remember. And then at the ripe old age of thirteen, my parents dropped me off on the fucking orphanage steps like a goddamn cliché with only a small bag of essentials to my name. I didn't stay there long enough to make friends, my foster parents bringing me home a month later. On my sweet sixteenth birthday, they tried to kill me. I yelled bloody murder to everyone who would fucking listen – my friends, my boyfriend, the police. They all thought I was full of shit.
A few days later, they tried again. Fuck, that's not true. Lance, the nicer of my two foster brothers that I had grown up with, tried to kill me. I didn't stick around longer to find out if the rest of the family was crazy. And now I had been on the run for seven years. Seven. Fucking. Years.
I groaned to myself. Stay alive? Fuck that. It shouldn't have been this fucking hard.
"You sure you wanna do this, babe?" I blinked a few times, remembering where I had ended up. Seven years on the streets, squatting in empty houses, and stealing identities did a lot to a girl. It was a miracle that when I had stumbled upon the Raz Fawn street crew just outside of Phoenix, AZ, I had been saved by their second in command, Aidan. He took pity on me, especially after I spilled some form of my story to him while drunk off my ass. It wasn't long before sparks flew and I moved into his bed. I tried to believe all of the lies he spewed into my ear – mainly the ones about protection and safety. There was no protecting me. I wasn't safe anywhere.
It was just a matter of time and staying here for just over a month was pushing it. I nodded slowly, curling into his bare chest for warmth. It was the first bed I had slept in, in years and I wasn't ready to pack up just yet. But I needed to. Especially if I didn't want Aidan dead. He brushed his fingers across my temple, tucking a few loose strands behind my ear before placing a soft kiss on my forehead. "Charlotte?"
I moaned into his chest, not ready to face him. I had never told him why I had nearly gotten myself killed with the Raz Fawn plebs. I never told him why I was running or what I was running from. I huffed, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer. He didn't resist. "It doesn't matter, does it? I can't stay here."
He snuggled his face into the curve of my neck, his lips at the tip of my ear. "I could go with."
I shuddered as his hot breath sent shivers down my spine, the energy shooting straight down to my core. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to avoid remembering what happened in this very bed just hours ago. As much as I would have loved another romp in the sheets, I was already on borrowed time. "No. I think it'd be pretty noticeable if you just up and disappeared. You're basically running the crew."
Aidan chuckled, "You're not as worthless as you think you are."
This was a constant fight with the guy. I loved his brazen attitude, his muscles, the fucking tattoos that adorned nearly every inch of his torso, and of course his dick. The things he could do with his dick. But fuck if he didn't try to tell me that I was worth something every chance he got. Aidan could make a girl feel special, even when she was on the run from her foster family for fuck knows why. I took one final sniff of his scent, an earthy morning dew that was completely natural to him before struggling out of bed. I shot him a look, instantly hating how perfect he looked even in the mornings. The sheet pooled around his waist as he propped himself up on one arm, his deep green eyes trying to read my soul. He looked every bit like the sex god that I thought he was. It wasn't fair. "And you're worth too much. Don't fucking follow me."
He put one hand up mockingly, a smirk replacing his usual tight smile, "I won't. I won't." His eyes ran over my frame, my nipples pebbling at the renewed attention. I was thankful that I had thrown my tank top and shorts back on at some point last night or I'd never be able to leave. Aidan scooted from the bed as well, naked as the day he was born. He smirked as I froze, my eyes attached to his face. He leaned in, placing another kiss on my forehead, his hands softly cupping my cheeks. "You know you'll always be my girl, right?"
I wanted to pull away, but this would be the last time I saw him. He knew it and I knew it. Drawing things out was only going to make this heartbreak worse. I hadn't had time for feelings in the last seven years, but if I had to explain what love was, I would say what Aidan and I had – well that was as close as I would fucking get. "You can't fucking say things like that." I mumbled, grabbing his wrists and removing his hands from my face, "Words like that are going to get you killed." I wouldn't put it past my foster family to kill anyone I got close to. I would not have that on my conscience.
"Sweetheart, are you ever going to tell me what you're running from?" Aidan looked torn between wanting to find the person responsible and wanting to keep me here forever. He wouldn't succeed on either front. None of this mattered.
I would make him understand why he couldn't know. He had to know that I wasn't fucking playing around. I wasn't just some lovesick girl that was done with him. I had nothing to go back to. This was it. "Are you ever going to tell me how many people you've killed and who they were?" I spat at him. His look hardened and he grunted in response. I nodded, "And why not?"
He broke out of my grip, folding his arms across his chest. His jaw clenched as he answered, "Because it would get you killed." Silence fell between us for a moment. "It's not the same."
He didn't get it. I wasn't sure he ever would. And it wouldn't matter, just so long as he didn't fucking follow me. It would get us both killed. "It fucking is. I have to go."
Aidan handed me a small envelope from the nightstand, his eyes glassy. This big man was about to cry over me. "Everything you need is in there."
"Is it-"
He wrapped his arms around me, "It's perfect, rock solid. You're not Charlotte, anymore. You're Florence Cole."
I grimaced at the name, "Florence? Do I look like a Florence to you?"
He chuckled, his chest rumbling against my small frame as he towered over me. "It seemed fitting at the time. Means woman runner or competitor. After FloJo. " There was that evil glint in his eye as his smile widened, "Besides, I remember someone explicitly telling me that it didn't matter, as long as it was rock solid."
"But fucking Florence? I have to fucking live with that shit."
"And live you shall."
I sighed, unable to refute that fact.
"I'll drop you off at the station, babe. Let's go."
"Aidan-"
"No, you're going to fucking let me do this. I don't ever get to see you again? Then you're going to let me drop you off."
There was a first for everything but I'm pretty sure I was about to break this man's heart.