Skins & Needles (COMPLETE)

Late Night Groceries Part 1

Arsen

It seemed I wasn't the only one with secrets.

I watched Charlotte carefully as she walked to the living room and curled up on the couch with her glass of water. She seemed all right now, all things considered. But I still had to wonder, what had happened in the kitchen to make her react that way? It was as if she was in a trance, staring unseeingly at the floor and shaking. And then it was like someone hit her, the way she abruptly crumpled to the floor in a broken heap. All because of some pills?

I wondered if she had a former addiction problem, or knew someone with one. Or maybe she had PTSD from something else, and the sight of the pills triggered it. I wondered for the hundredth time where she'd come from, who she had been before now, and what she had seen in her twenty-two years of life. What she had seen in the kitchen...

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked, and sat down on the sectional a few feet away.

"I'm good!" she told me cheerily. "Really. When this ibuprofen kicks in, I'll be golden."

It didn't seem forced, but I had come to realize over the course of the night that she was hiding things about herself so deep you needed an x-ray machine to see them.

"If you're sure..." I didn't really want to have the conversation we were about to, but it was mandatory, and my loyalty rested only in my circle. "So, Charlotte, since you did overhear an important conversation between families, you are going to be under a period of supervision so we can make sure you aren't going to turn around and tell any of our less friendly rivals what was spoken of."

"I gathered as much," she said with a sigh. "For how long, and what will this stay entail?"

"Probably a week," I answered, "and in that time, I will be assessing if you are safe to let free, and making sure it's clear what will happen to you if you spill what you overheard."

"And what's that?" Her face looked a touch more serious now, but not afraid.

"We make people disappear and no one ever finds them." In all honesty, I was almost one hundred percent sure Charlotte wouldn't say a thing, but in this world, you had to cover all your bases.

"Naturally." She took a drink of water from her glass, and a drop escaped and fell to her chest. I watched it disappear into her thin t-shirt, and then dragged my eyes to my window and took a deep breath. I was alone, in my house, with a ridiculously beautiful woman who— in an alternate reality where I wasn't a shapeshifting criminal and she wasn't an outsider— I would have already asked her out. And there she was, smelling like heaven and looking at me with those hazel eyes, and fuck I was gonna do something stupid if I wasn't careful.

"Here's the part you're gonna hate," I began after a moment. "I really don't like having to do this, but it's the standard the Volkovs have set for holding prisoners."

"Okay..." She looked skeptical, but stayed seated.

I pulled out the small anklet from my pocket and showed it to her.

"This is, for lack of a better description, a human shock collar," I explained, watching her face for any reaction. When she only raised an eyebrow, I continued. "It will go on your ankle, and if you try to leave the twenty-foot barrier around my house, it will send a single electric pulse through you that will immediately knock you unconscious."

"Sounds... pleasant," she said, making a scrunched up face. "I mean, whatever has to be done. I wasn't planning on running off anyway. I have no idea where I am, for starters. And, your house is nicer than my apartment." She laughed nervously at this last and I couldn't help but chuckle with her. Something about her made me just react. Every quip, every shift...

"You're probably the easiest prisoner we've ever held," I teased, and moved a little closer. "I'll need your ankle then?"

"Right," she said quickly, and moved her leg so it was resting in my lap. I frowned upon seeing it, however, and ran my fingers over the tattoos there. Intricate designs, and beautifully done, but barely healed.

"Are these new?" I asked, looking up to see her watching my face. She blushed deeply and shifted a little.

"Yeah, um, I did those a few days ago," she said, and I was surprised to see her so uncertain. She always seemed flawlessly confident. One thing she said had me back tracking, though.

"Wait, you did these yourself?" I asked, glancing back to the swirling lines again. They went all around her ankle in a detailed pattern of black, red, and turquoise, reconnecting with themselves to form a complete ring.

"I mean I had them done," she rushed out, blushing deeper. I looked at her quietly for a moment and when she met my gaze, she sighed heavily. "I did them myself. I just don't usually tell people I tattoo myself often."

"Why?" I wondered, and gently traced the design. She had such talent. I had no idea why she wouldn't own it.

"Most people won't because tattoos hurt," she began, "but sometimes, I need the pain."

She was quiet after that, and in that moment I heard countless untold confessions warring in the silence. Who was Charlotte Andersen?

"I'll put this on your other ankle, then," I decided. I wanted so badly to ask her what she meant, but it would be unfair of me to demand her secrets when I knew I would never tell her mine. I was selfish in how I wanted to know her, while unable to let her know me.

"Thank you," Charlotte breathed, and I knew it wasn't just for letting her trade ankles.

I locked the anklet on her left leg and then slipped the key over my wrist. I wanted to keep spending time with her, but it wasn't a good idea. In fact, the best idea would be to spend the least amount of time with her that I could while she was here.

I told her where the extra pillows and blankets were, how to work the TV remote, and where the bathroom was before I headed up to bed. I thought too many times about inviting her to come with me, and needed to take some time to remind myself why I couldn't.

She was human.

I was not human.

She was a normal, functioning member of society.

I was a functioning part of the criminal underground.

She had secrets.

I had secrets.

There.

Solid list.

But I still wanted to go back downstairs and offer her to take my bed. The only problem was, I probably wouldn't mention that I would be sleeping on the couch, and then one thing would lead to another, and I would kiss her, and mess this whole thing up.

I turned to my nightstand and opened the drawer. In it sat my emergency bottle of Benadryl, that I scarcely need unless I couldn't sleep for some reason.

Charlotte was some reason.

I popped three, and rolled back into my spot. It was going to be a long week.

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I have been awful with updates wtfff (I've been insanely busy publishing 2 books but it's fine everything is fine). Anyway, hope you're enjoying the story. Once November hits, I'll be able to focus more time on finishing the final chapters and updating more regularly. But for now, I'm gonna do my best to keep posting chapters a few times a week and you have permission to bug me in the comments if I'm taking too long.

Happy reading <3

-Haybails