Stalking Charlie

Hiding Secrets

Marco Stone

I watch Nick maneuver the car out of the garage with Charlie beside him. I scanned our block if the black car was back.

It wasn't.

Ever since I saw that black car on my CCTV, I've been on the look out for it. I have also sent a copy to Detective Murdock, and he was glad for it.

I sat back on my chair, dialling a friend's number.

"Aye?" a deep voice rumbled on the other line.

"Paul. The little bird is on her way." I informed him. "The usual, please."

"You got it." Paul grunted, then he hang up.

Paul and I used to serve the Navy Seals, and now he owns a kickboxing gym, he also trains people. I asked him to do private lessons for Charlie. He won't also let her out of his sight and will make sure she's secured.

Charlie's file mentioned that she had taken lessons on Taekwondo after the incident. It was advised by her psychologist, for her to have an outlet for her emotions. It helped her cope with her emotional struggles.

And right now, her emotions are quite unstable. She said so herself. There's been a lot that girl hid from others. And I had to intimidate her to answer me truthfully. She's quite good at evading questions.

Just today she tried to do so. I have a feeling Charlie is hiding something important. Something that she is scared about. That she is guilty of.

I think Charlie knows exactly who her stalker is.

---

Alex Stone

"Pass the salt."

I handed my brother the shaker, and he took it from my hand quite roughly. He's been awfully quiet, and so is Charlie.

My Dad's not helping at all. He's currently on his work mode, thinking deeply by himself.

"I'm done." Charlie murmured. She excused herself and went to her room. Dad just looked at her retreating back, not saying anything. Nick was looking grimly at her plate.

The food was untouched.

I can't help squirming at my seat, too uncomfortable with the silence from my companions. It didn't help that they look too much alike, with their brooding expression and all.

"Why was Paul training her?"

The question came from Nick, and I looked up to him, then to my father, whose face turned grim.

"She needs it." Marco said simply, standing up and taking his plate on the sink.

Our dad went to his room soon after. I was left with Nick who's still not talking to me. He hasn't even looked at me.

"I'll wash the dishes tonight." I offered, standing next to him by the sink. I know that our father had been hard on him. Nick didn't have a proper rest ever since he was grounded.

"No." he growled, taking the plates from me.

"No, Nick. I'll do it. You go watch tv." I insisted, not letting go of the plates.

"Go to your room, Alessandra." he snapped, tugging at the plates on my hands at the same time as me. The next thing we know was that there's no more plates to wash, it was smashed to pieces at the floor.

"Alessandra!" he screamed at me.

"I was just trying to help!" I shouted back, shoving him angrily.

"Well, you're no help at all!" he yelled at my face. I ignored him. I squatted and started picking up the large pieces of the broken dishes.

"What are you doing?! Don't be stupid!" he slapped my hands away, his eyes telling me not to move as he went somewhere.

I continued to pile together the broken pieces. I stopped when I saw a cut on my finger.

Nick came back with a broom and pan. He swept the floor and ignored me the whole time.

What the fuck is wrong with him? I thought angrily. I know my brother well enough, so I know there's something going on with him. He won't just ignore me without a reason.

He's been like that since he came out of Charlie's bedroom. I wondered if they had a fight. Well, that won't be surprising if they did. But Nick would never ignore me and not talk to me just because he had a fight with Charlie.

I can't count on Charlie to tell me what happened. By the looks of her, she's back on shutting out people again. And when she's like that no one can talk to her, because she won't answer anything right.

I decided to bring out the actress in me and know what happened. I pressed at my forefinger that has a moderate cut on it, letting the blood flow until it reached my arm.

"N-Nick.." I sniffed, clutching my arm. I almost stopped acting when I saw him run to me, his face full of concern and panic.

"What the fuck did you do?!" he roared at me, his face pale. "Stay still."

He went to grab the first aid kit and cleaned my arm and cut. He kept asking if I'm alright.

"No. You're mad at me." I said, my voice small. Emotions flickered in his handsome face.

This must be serious. Why else would he hide something from me? I thought. I want to shake him and shout at his face, I'm really curious about what happened.

"I'm not mad at you." he said, still avoiding my eyes. He had bandaged my finger neatly, and examining my hands for more cuts.

I put my hands in his face, forcing him to look directly at me. Pain passed his deep blue eyes. And guilt.

"You can tell me anything." I said softly.

He shook his head stubbornly, removing my hands off his face.

"Stop being nice to me." he retorted. "I don't deserve it."

Nick turned his back on me and left me wondering what on earth happened.