The Sword and the Scythe

Chapter 21: American Woman

The betrayed look in Charlotte's eyes felt like a hot poker stuck through Leroy's chest. She just stared at him open-mouthed for several moments. Tears pooled up in her eyes and he could tell she was trying not to let them loose in front of Thomas.

"I-I can explain," he offered when she still hadn't said anything.

"What's there to explain? You've been lying to me! Peter was never okay—he's been dead! It's been you this whole time. You—oh God, you faked those photos and made up all that stuff about his life! I should have noticed he wasn't himself; I'm such a bad friend." A sob came out and Leroy wanted more than anything to scoot closer and comfort her. But he could tell by the way she backed away from him that his touch was the last thing she wanted. "How long have you been lying to me? When did he die?"

"Almost four years ago."

Charlotte's mouth fell open and she recoiled even farther away from him. "That long and you never told me?"

"Of course, he didn't tell you," Thomas' smug voice interrupted. "He wanted you to like him."

"Butt out Thomas. This doesn't concern you."

Charlotte looked up at him, her green eyes wide with anger. "Why would you lie to me?"

"I couldn't tell you back then without having to explain what I am."

"But I've known that you're a Grim for weeks now and you still didn't tell me."

"I didn't think you'd want to know. You said you'd never forgive yourself if anything bad happened to him because of you. But what would that do? Feeling guilty won't bring him back."

Charlotte's expression didn't soften like he had expected it to. Instead her eyebrows furrowed even more, and she looked furious. Tears spilled over her cheeks as her anger unfurled. "You don't get to decide what information I do or don't want to know. He was my friend. I deserved to know what happened to him—regardless of how you thought I'd feel once I did."

He scooted closer to her on the couch, holding his palms up, hoping she'd take them. "Please, Char."

"I don't even want to look at you. You worked so hard to keep from telling me the truth. It would have been easier to just tell me. You knew how risky it was for me to come back here and you still didn't tell me. I never would have come here if I'd known he was dead. You cared more about keeping this from me than my own safety. I thought you cared about me. I thought..." She trailed off, letting out a frustrated groan as she got to her feet.

"Please, I know I fucked up. I'm so sorry. I just didn't want to see you to get hurt."

"And how do you think this makes me feel, Leroy?"

She ran her hands through her hair and turned away from him. Looking up at Thomas, where he had watched the entire encounter without bothering to mask the glee written on his face. "I think I'll take you up on that job offer."

"Charlotte, no! You can't go with him. You don't know what he's like, he—"

"You're making the right decision, darling. It's what your father would have wanted." Thomas wrapped an arm around her shoulder and a bolt of rage surged through Leroy. "Go ahead and collect your things and we'll get going."

"Please, just listen to me," Leroy said, desperation bubbling up as he rushed forward to try and get Charlotte to look at him. Thomas clotheslined him as he tried to pass, knocking him flat on his back. He scrambled to stand up, but the last thing he saw was the barrel of Thomas' gun in his face.