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Chapter Twenty-Two

"I was hoping I'd find you here."

I blinked open my eyes, the harsh flourescent lights burning my retinas. Hovering over me was Mr. Avery. He offered me a hand.

I'd fallen asleep on the carpet of the waiting room somehow, a sweatshirt in a ball under my head. I remembered laying down, but it was strictly to stop from pacing since I was driving even myself crazy with that. But I didn't think I'd be able to fall asleep. Now that I was awake, though, I realized I'd been dreaming about the ocean and being on the beach with Charley. She'd looked soo pretty on the beach. I made up my mind that if -- no, Carter, when -- she got out, I'd bring her to the beach.

"What time is it?" I asked, disoriented.

"Six o'clock," Mr. Avery answered.

"Is she awake?" I struggled to sit up, then took Mr. Avery's hand and he pulled me to my feet carefully. The room spun a little bit, and I steadied myself by reaching out to touch the wall.

Mr. Avery shook his head. "She should be waking up soon."

I followed Mr. Avery through the lobby of the hospital, past the nurse's station, to the elevator. I realized I hadn't warned the security guy where I was going and I felt guilty. Not listening to security and not taking every step to assure safety had already caused enough problems, and here I was hours later already repeating history. Guilt settled into my stomach as I realized the meaning of this thought of mine. Charley was upstairs because I'd failed to listen to her, because I'd gone on stage before she'd cleared it. If I had just listened to her, everything would be okay. She wouldn't be hurt.

The weight of that bore down on me heavily.

As the elevator rose, I cleared my throat. "How - how bad - is it?" I asked Mr. Avery.

"The bullet knicked her heart," he said. "They had to repair a part of her aortic wall. Other than that, it was just tissue damage."

A lump rose in my throat. "So she's going to be okay?" I asked.

Mr. Avery nodded, "Yes."

A rush of relief splashed over me.

Mr. Avery turned to me. "Earlier, you said that you're Charlotte's boyfriend," he said.

"I- sort of," I stammered.

"Sort of?"

I didn't quite know how to explain my uncertainty to him in a -er- kosher manner. Finally I said, "It's complicated, I guess."

Mr. Avery studied me. "The fact that you were still in that waiting room just now tells me a lot about your character," he said slowly. "It tells me a lot about how you intend to treat my daughter." He turned away.

I somehow felt the way I imagine a person who's just been knighted must feel, like they've bestowed with some recognition or something that's beyond precious.

I tried to suppress the feeling in my gut that reminded me I'd had a whole week to tell her how I felt between the sex and the shooting, that maybe things would be different if I'd told her sooner. I pictured how it must've looked from the fans' perspective... the view that was probably all over YouTube right about now. Charley had dove to cover me, the bullet meant for me had pierced her.

When the elevator came to a stop, Mr. Avery led the way off and I followed, my palms becoming increasingly sweaty as I began to fear what it was that I was about to see. As the door to her room opened, my heart stopped. She was laying there in the hospital bed, sleeping peacefully. I felt my eyes well up and my throat close off as Mrs. Avery looked up from the chair she was sitting in.

I numbly stepped into the room and looked down at Charley. She had on a loose gown and I could see over the top of the low neck that she now sported a scar similar to Brian's on her chest. I took her hand from her side and wove my fingers with hers. I noticed things about her. Like the shape of her fingers, how they were long and skinny and there was a light sheen of clear nail polish on - evidence that Charley was capable of being girly when she wanted to be. I noticed the constallation of freckles on her forearm and the curve of her ear, spiraling like the inside of a seashell. I squeezed her hand ever so gently, bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Hey Charley," I said quietly.

Mr. Avery stepped up beside his wife and placed a hand on Mrs. Avery's shoulder. "How long have you known Charley?" Mrs. Avery asked.

"She used to beat me up in the first grade," I replied softly.

Mr. Avery chuckled.

"I didn't really know her then, though," I added. "I thought I did, but I didn't." I ran my thumb across the smooth top of Charley's hand. "If I had, I would never have let her disappear out of my life for as long as I did."

"How did Charlotte start working for you?" Mr. Avery asked.

I recounted for him (most of) the story about Billy and Charley being called in to guard me. Of course I left out the bit about Cindy-Jo and the pool, but for the most part they got the whole story. They both seemed amused and proud of Charley by the time I got to the shooting on the stage, when she blocked the shot. "I can't help but think it should've been me that was shot," I said, voicing my fear. I stared down at her hand for a long moment, then closed my eyes, wishing she was awake.

"You couldn't have taken it."

I opened my eyes. Charley was staring at me through half-open chocolate eyes and a slight curve of a smile on her lips. She squeezed my hand back.

"Charley!" I gasped. Mrs. Avery stood up and grabbed her daughter's other hand, and Mr. Avery hovered closer over his wife's shoulder to see, too.

Charley's eyes wandered from me to them, "Hey," she whispered, her voice was rough from unuse and whatever they were pumping her with in the IV. Her breathing was a little labored, but the cannula in her nose helped keep it on track. "You're here," she said groggily to her parents.

"We came the moment we heard," Mr. Avery confirmed.

Charley's lips twitched in an attempt at a bigger smile, but she was still only half-awake. She looked back at me. "You," she said accusingly.

"Me," I said.

"Are we even for the pantsing now?" she asked, her voice slurring words together. "Seeing as I took a bullet for you and all?"

"I suppose so," I replied. I kissed her hand. "Only on one condition."

"Hmm?"

"Go out with me?"

Charley smiled. "Kind of a challenge at the moment, since I'm still recovering from getting shot for you. Can I take a rain check?"

"You just want all kinds of special treatment for this bullet thing, huh?" I asked.

Charley closed her eyes, smiling, "I figure I oughtta milk it while I can."