Fairy Crosses

Chapter Two

Written by CBMokedi

The Honda shook as Charlotte guided it into her usual parking spot with a prayer. Every time she made it somewhere with the ancient piece of junk intact was a victory. It was her habit to park here right next to the entrance even when the company's parking lot was practically empty. At 9:30 am, she only spotted a red Volkswagen GTI besides a few trucks that belonged to the company.

She sighed at the vehicle. Allison had had a "lit night," according to her last text message before Charlotte had drifted off on Greyson's pillow. Allison probably didn't go home at all last night to avoid her dad's lecture and her sister's teasing. Charlotte knew the drill. She always kept some clothes in the trunk of her car for this reason. Allison would need work-appropriate clothes, or simply something clean and didn't make her look like a homeless person.

"Coworkers are not your friends. It's not good to blur the line." Greyson had said something like that. That was what he believed, but Charlotte was different. Life had taken an unexpected turn for her, but that didn't mean that she had to stop caring for and helping people when she could, especially the ones who had given her a hand when she was drowning.

Allison had crash landed into Charlotte's life on a cold, rainy January night not long after she'd just moved to Helen from Atlanta, looking for a fresh start–the city had lost its luster when she didn't have someone to share it with anymore.

Greyson's birthday. Difficult things became soul-crushing on birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays when you dealt with grief. Charlotte had drunk herself to a stupor, hoping that it would block out everything. A new cabin in a new, picturesque town somehow was not enough to make you forget. Getting drunk alone in a sketchy bar would be the next solution. It could rank top on the list of stupid things Charlotte had ever done in her life, but she felt not-dead. Not quite alive, but not dead, at least.

Greyson would have frowned upon that. Hell, he would get very upset even when the only way he showed it would be watching The Spy Game or some similar old shows on repeat until he passed out on the couch. But he was not here, was he?

Charlotte couldn't tell the difference between a human and a lamp post by the time she stumbled out of the bar. Lazy Palm. What a name for a bar that has no palms. It sounded like some swanky spots in Key West where she and Greyson had spent their honeymoon. Why Key West? Charlotte couldn't remember.

The next thing she felt was hands. Cold, clammy, and rough hands crawled all over her body like snakes. A blanket of thick, stinky cigarette smoke cocooned Charlotte, choking the life out of her.

"Let's have some fun, baby." A raspy voice sang in her ear.

"Who...the hell..." Charlotte slurred.

"Aww, I'll take care of you, baby. Don't worry. We'll have a fun night."

"She looks like she's about to keel, man. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yeah, I don't know, Whittle's been watching us like a hawk..."

"Shut the fuck up! Stop being a chicken shit and go get the truck!"

"Let me go...Please... My head hurt..." Charlotte cried.

"Oh, you'll be fine, baby."

Charlotte's legs wobbled as if they were made of dough. Her screams came out like a whisper. Charlotte was a stranded fish on land, and her fate was about to be sealed by these strangers. Suddenly, a voice shook her world.

"Hey, you three! What the fuck are you doing?"

Charlotte lifted her head in its direction. Under the yellow light, a small figure charged toward them.