Unanchored: Inspired by Demi Lovato (book 1 of the unanchored series)

10. ⚓️

I never thought for a second that I would be back in Charlie's arms, but I was at a time in my life, where I needed someone to talk to. Someone who wasn't family, Porc, or Rina. I didn't intend on seeing Charlie, it just happened.

"You want something to drink?" Charlie asked, interrupting my gaze at Vincent Van Gogh's A Starry Night painting that was hanging above the fireplace. I shook my head. "No, thank you." Charlie sat down in front of me with a glass of water. "Wow, this place has really changed since I, last, been here."

Charlie chuckles. "Yeah, my mom changed the whole living room set to grey, I guess she got tired of looking at the same old blue one." I smiled, putting my head down. "Listen...uh, I just wanted to say that I'm—"

"Charlie, please. Don't do this, now." I said, looking into the fireplace as it burned so brightly. I never was fascinated by fire, I just liked the feeling that it gave me, a warm, comforting feeling. I know, I'm such a weirdo.

"So, what were you doing out there?" He asked. "Why were you on the road?"

"I saw a kitten in the middle of the street but it ran away, when it saw me, and then I saw your car coming. I was going to move but...I didn't want to."

"Why?" Charlie asked, putting his glass of water down on the coffee table. I didn't want to tell him the truth because he might tell Michaela but then again, I desperately need someone to talk to. "My parents gave me a book as their last gift and um...at first, I was pissed off. I kept asking myself, "What the hell am I going to do with a stupid book?" I didn't realize that there was something inside of the book. There was a cassette tape and six letters, none of which I opened yet." Tears were forming in my eyes as I rubbed my hands up and down my thighs, creating friction. "I played the cassette and I found out that I'm...adopted."

"Oh, my God. Are you serious?" Charlie asked and I nodded, crying. Charlie got up from the couch and went over to comfort me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. "It's okay. You're safe with me." Charlie said, running his fingers through my hair. I pulled away, wiping my tears as Charlie looked at me and I looked back at him. Then he leaned in and kissed me on my lips, I wanted to stop him but I, also, didn't want to. In that moment, I was vulnerable, speechless, I didn't want this to end, so I kissed him back. Before I knew it, I was lying down and  he was putting one hand on my waist and the other up my shirt.

I felt guilty, maybe, I shouldn't be doing this. He is with Michaela now and even though, I hated her for stealing my boyfriend, I didn't want to do the same to her. I just couldn't. I couldn't hurt her the way she hurt me.

"No." I said as I stopped kissing him and he started kissing from my neck to my boobs. "No, Charlie, please. We can't do this, we need to stop." I said, trying to stop him but he kept on kissing my boobs, next thing I knew, he was unbuttoning my blouse and this was a major red flag for me to get the hell out of here.

"Yes, we can." He whispered, trying to unzip my pants but I kicked him in the balls. "I said, stop! Get away, you fucking pervert! What is wrong with you?!" I screamed, running out of the living room to the front door and buttoning my blouse back. I heard his footsteps coming after me, they were heavy and angry, just like him. 

"Nothing. I thought you wanted sex." He came closer to my face and touched my waist. "Jade, I thought you wanted me. Don't you?" What the fuck is wrong with him? Is he insane? "You're delusional! Get away from me, you fucking smeerlap!" I yelled, calling him a dirtbag and running away from his house.

I can't believe, I thought for a second that Charlie was a good guy, that I could actually trust him. What did I ever see in him? This guy was actually willing to risk his relationship over sex. That dirty, no good, son of a bitch. He was never loyal to me and he's not even loyal to Michaela. He's fucking insane, he clearly has no remorse, whatsoever. He doesn't care about the messes that he made because he's never the one to clean them up. I should've known better not to come to his house. God, I am such a flapdrol."