Declan stiffly rose. “Emerson, I found her like this. I wasn’t involved in it, at least not directly. I have an idea who it might be though, and I’ll need your help to resolve this.”
“It’s true, Emerson. Declan and Charlie have been dating, but I know he would never do this to her. He’s not stupid.”
Declan was grateful he didn’t have any extra explaining to do. All that mattered right now was Charlotte. Why weren’t the doctors coming to tell them how she was doing?
***
Declan and Emerson talked for a lengthy period. He explained to Emerson how he came to know and date Charlotte.
“How is it you’re her brother?” Declan looked closer at Emerson, noting some similar features to Charlotte.
“You couldn’t have possibly known. My parents died when I was young. My mom and Charlie’s mom were sisters. Aunt Gemma and Uncle Jack took me in, raised me as their own. They adopted me but kept my last name to honor my parents.”
They both discussed their knowledge of Griffin. Declan told Emerson how he had exacted retribution on him for his past actions involving Charlotte. He told him about the club and the tattoo on Griffin’s forehead.
“I’m not sure this is his work though,” Declan relayed. “Yesterday, Charlotte met with this woman who had been pushing her to offer a publishing contract. While I admire Charlotte’s initiative in securing some new writers for our publishing house, I was concerned. The woman left bruises on her wrist. Charlotte brushed it off as her fault. She clumsily slipped on some ice in her heels and the woman gripped her wrist to keep her from falling.”
“Is it possible that the woman is out to get either one of you?” Emerson questioned him.
“I’m not sure. She used a pen name; Ruby Rouseault, so I am not even sure who she is.”
Declan kicked himself for not knowing more about who Charlotte was meeting with. It was his job to protect her, and he failed miserably.
“‘Rouseault?’ Why does that name sound familiar?”
“It does sound familiar, but I am unsure why,” Declan offered.
“Rouseault. Oh my God.” Emerson’s face grew pale. “Do you recall Madame Rouseault?”
“Fuck! Holy hell!” Declan cursed audibly, drawing an angry look from Michaela who sat in the corner of the room waiting for Aaron to return with coffee.
“Exactly. Madame Rouseault. Infamous switch from the now defunct Dominion Club. Rumor has it that her erratic brand of behavior ruined the place.” Emerson related. “Of course, you and I both know her better as Katherine.”
***
“What the fuck is going on?” Aaron demanded as he sat down with Declan and Emerson. “Mik’s going out of her mind with worry. The cops won’t tell her anything.”
Declan turned, motioning Emerson and Aaron into one of the smaller private rooms where doctors met with families.
“We have a serious problem,” Declan spoke gravely.
“What the hell happened to Charlie?” Aaron asked.
Declan held up his hand and reached into his pants pocket with the other. He pulled out the photo that Charlie clenched in her hand when they discovered her and showed it to Emerson.
Emerson’s face was a mixture of shock and rage. And then, oddly guilt. He went gray and then staggered back to sit on one of the chairs. He buried his face in his hands; the photo crumpled in his fist.
“What the hell is this?” Emerson’s vehement demand rang through the room.
“Charlotte was clutching that when I got to her,” Declan said quietly. “I have no idea how Katherine got a hold of it, or better yet how she posted it on the Internet.”
“For starters, Katherine doesn’t know a damned thing about technology. She can’t bother her pretty little mind with it and she usually has her minions handle all of the social media promotion of her image and the like,” Emerson said in a furious tone. “She had to have help. She’s not alone in this. Not by a long shot.”
“What do you know that you haven’t yet told us,” Aaron chimed in. It was obvious by the look on Declan’s face that there was much more to the story than he was relating.
“What I have to say is going to piss you off. Both of you. I thought it was behind Charlotte and me, but clearly I was mistaken.”
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Emerson bit out. “What did you do Declan? How did you manage to put my sister in such danger?”
“When Charlotte and I were first together, Katherine confronted me at a gathering. She was out of her mind, spewing all sorts of garbage. Then she accused me of being in love with Charlotte and losing my edge. It hit me at the wrong time. I wasn’t ready to admit the depth of my feelings for Charlotte. In an effort to re-establish some boundaries, and prove that she was just my submissive, I set up something.”
“What sort of thing,” Emerson growled.
Declan exhaled with some effort. “Charlotte and I had discussed before my interest in showing her off to other men. I mean, not in person per se, but online. So I set up an online profile at KinkLife and uploaded some pictures. Pictures of her.”
“Son of a bitch!” Emerson cursed. “What the fuck, man? How could you do that to her? What were you thinking?”
“I showed it to Charlotte and she balked. It upset her,” Declan offered. “I took them down immediately, but apparently not soon enough.”
“Fucking seriously?” Emerson growled; rage smoldered through him like a wildfire.
“I’ll handle it. I messed up. I let Katherine know about Charlotte. I fucked up,” Declan said quietly.
“No, you had your chance to do the right thing.” Emerson’s voice whipped around the room like a ricochet bullet.
“Emerson’s right, man. Let us take care of this.”
“No. If it were Michaela or Anabelle lying in a hospital bed, would you just sit back and delegate it for to someone else?”
Emerson’s lips twisted and then he sighed. “No, I wouldn’t, but after what happened with Griffin, this is too dangerous. You got away once with taking matters into your own hands. You wouldn’t this time. Katherine Hughes has nothing to lose. She’s not going to sway under threats. She’ll give up her henchman, and then she’ll have your ass handed to you. You know how powerful her family is.”
“Who said anything about threats?” Declan asked in an even tone. “Threats serve little purpose unless you take action to back them up. I underestimated her once. I won’t make that mistake again. I have no intention of threatening the bitch, but I have every intention of taking her down.”
“Oh fuck off.” Emerson bit out. “The hell if we’re letting you take on this by yourself.”
Chapter Twenty
There were voices, or maybe just one voice. It was hard to tell because there was a ringing in Charlie’s ears she couldn’t seem to shake. But it was the pain that finally woke her. It had burrowed itself beyond the bruised, torn surface of her skin, pulling and pounding at the fibers of her muscles, sending deep currents of trauma through her body.
She tried to speak, but all that came out was a belabored moan as the pain speared through her. Charlie felt a warm, gentle hand on her forehead. Words whispered over her like a prayer. “I know it hurts. The nurse is on her way with something for the pain.”
“Open your eyes, Charlie. Please.”
She tried, but they wouldn’t cooperate. It hurt to try and force them open.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Rest. Just know that we’re all here with you and you’re going to be fine.”
Charlie desperately wanted to. She wanted to make sure the nightmare was over, that her imagination wasn’t playing tricks on her. She braced herself for the pain and tried again. A small sliver of bright light blinded her, and her lids shuttered closed. She lay there, panting from the exertion. She tried again, this time readied for the bright light of the room.