Chapter Twenty - Part One

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Charlie

Why is he even trying to be a gentleman? He said it himself, one way or another I will be his. Lying in bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, just allows me to ponder my sense of despair more than I wish. It forces me to sit wide awake in my dark room, obsessing about Maxwell. How I want him to touch me, how I want to hear him say my name one more time.

The worst part is that I'm not sure if that's me wanting that or this stupid bond.

When I jolt awake from my alarm clock, I realize I must have fallen asleep, although I'm not sure at what hour the exhaustion took over. Moving my tired heavy limbs, I gradually get ready for work. I used to love work, that's until Morgan actively became team Maxwell. I highly doubt she would be praising him so much if she knew he was dead.

The whole car ride my brain tries to register what my dear ancestors had me born into. Did they seriously think Maxwell wouldn't come looking for what he thinks is his? A shiver runs down my spine. Maxwell believes I'm his property—even if he won't flat out say it. Hell, I'm the man's food source. All this time, I've looked past the fact that he's a blood-sucking monster who's three hundred years old, only to have it slapped back in my face. It's hard to explain, but I don't care he's a vampire and that's the part that scares me.

I stop at Starbucks to get a peace offering for Morgan. Balancing the two cups as I unlock the front door is tricky, but I get behind her desk without a spill. The wait I endure is agonizing, but small sips of my latte calm my nerves.

She walks in a few minutes later with a confused look on her face. "Something wrong, Charlie?" she asks as her hazel eyes continue to question me.

Holding out the still hot cappuccino I got her, I allow a smile to find my lips. "A peace offering. I know it's a little late considering you lectured me four days ago, but things between us have been...awkward. I just want you to know that I thank you for your insight and telling me what I already know, what I didn't want to admit. However, I need time to process Maxwell. He's not as charming as you think he is. Dave either."

Morgan's smile is all I need to know that she understands and to some extent accepts my apology. "Now, if you excuse me, I have tons of work to do before I'm forced to go on a date...with Dave." Holding my cup high in the air as a salute of some sort, I walk away.

The clock ticks away the minutes, and the sun slowly starts to set, leaving my office dark and my eyelids tired. Laying my head on my desk and closing my eyes, I repeat in a hush voice, just a few minutes.

"Charlie, Charlie, wake up." A soft, nurturing voice slowly makes reality set in.

When I start to feel a nudge that gets more aggressive with each tap, I whip my head off the desk. "I'm up, I'm up," I repeat more to myself than who I now know to be Morgan.

"Dave's here for you and he's not happy."

I rub my head, trying to get rid of the slight headache that's growing under my skull. "What time is it?"

"Five minutes after seven."

"Shit, no wonder he's not happy. Send him in." I watch Morgan leave the room only to be replaced by a flustered Dave.

"You fell asleep in your office when you knew that at seven o'clock I was going to pick you up at your house." I can almost feel the anger radiate off him. His blond hair seems more ruffled and his face is gradually turning an unflattering shade of red.

"It's not as if I did it intentionally." Unexpectingly my anger comes out in a sing song voice. "These past few weeks have been pretty stressful, making it extremely hard to sleep. I'm up now. We can just go straight to the restaurant."

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