The Liberator

came downstairs, sat in her nearby oversized love seat, and nursed her water bottle. Of vodka. Max and I acted like morons and insisted Valery, who was now sober, chauffer us around in her Mercedes. We hung our heads out the window and howled at the afternoon sun, and later, the moon. Charlie sat between us as we cruised Peachville, Alabama, stopping here and there to complete dares, and capturing the idiocy with Max’s new phone. We also stopped at The Wireless Hut so Valery could buy herself a cell and, in a moment of coolness, buy Charlie and me phones, too. I would have done it myself, but I couldn’t since I was now cut off from my hell-issued AmEx Black Card.

When we get back to Grams’s place, I say good-bye to Max. He hugs me, slaps me hard on the back, then pulls on his shadow and vanishes from sight. I turn to Valery. “Thanks for the phone.”

“I enjoy helping the needy,” she says.

I scrunch up my nose. “I am many things, but needy isn’t one of them. Though speaking of, when am I getting my new card? Is it all blue and sparkly to represent the heavens?”

“You’ll get it tomorrow, once I get you to the airport.”

Groaning, I hook my arm around Charlie. “What time?”

“Seven in the morning,” Valery answers.

I shake my head. “You did that on purpose.”

Valery smiles and waves before she disappears inside her Mercedes. As she drives away, her windows down, I can hear the clatter of empty bottles clinking against one another in the backseat.

Charlie squeezes me around the middle. “I had fun today.”

My eyes close as I breathe her in. Whoever said “like attracts like” had their head stuffed up somewhere dark and stank-like.

I bury my head in the side of her neck and lay my lips on the warmth there. My stomach tightens as I feel her hands roam over my back and across my sides. She moves them farther down until her fingers dig into my pockets. Then she pulls me closer. “Stay again tonight?”

I raise my head. I’m not sure how she can even question this. There’s no place I’d rather be. When I even think about how I’ll be away from her—in Denver—my insides revolt. I can’t imagine spending my days wondering where she is at any given moment and questioning whether she’s safe. “Course I’ll stay.”

I expect her to smile, but instead her eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What’s this?” she asks, wiggling her fingers deeper into my pocket.

Restraining myself from saying the dirty thing that’s on my mind, I step back. She withdraws the ivory horns my father gave me. In all the talk of whether I was going to Denver, and then celebrating—err, mourning—my decision, I’d forgotten to tell her what else was inside the assignment envelope.

A rush of excitement races over my skin at the chance to talk about my father. “My dad sent them for me.” Charlie’s mouth falls open. “My thoughts exactly.”

“What are they?” she breathes, her full pink lips stretched into a smile.

“Beats me.” I pour both of them into her outstretched hand. It’s a difficult transaction considering I’m hopped up on enough bubbly to intoxicate a tractor.

Charlie rolls them around in her palm. “Kind of heavy,” she says, rubbing her thumb over them. “And so smooth.”

“I just don’t understand why there wasn’t anything about them in the assignment,” I say. Charlie drops the horns back into my hand, and we both stare at them, bewildered. “You know what might help me figure it out?” I add in a whisper.

Charlie leans close, her eyes widening slightly.

I nod my head toward her room. “Taking you upstairs.”

She throws her head back toward the night sky and laughs, and I can’t stop myself from staring at her throat. At the soft, sun-kissed skin that travels from her jaw, to her collarbones, to her chest. “You’re bad,” she coos.

“The baddest.” I circle one arm beneath her shoulders and the other behind her knees and pull her up into my arms. It’s a Don Juan move, if I do say so myself, but it’s not quite perfect, because I end up dropping one of the ivory horns in the process. I try to lean over to grab it while keeping hold of her, but Charlie insists I don’t have the proper motor skills to do both. Finally, in an attempt to help a dude out, she reaches her arm down and snatches it.

“Success,” she yells, punching her fist into the air.

And then something happens.

Something electric.

A current fires through us, and I drop Charlie to the ground. She hits the driveway pavement.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “I didn’t mean—”

But then I stop, because there’s this sensation between us that I can’t wrap my head around. Charlie gets to her feet slowly, her eyes locked on mine as she moves. We stare at each other, breathing fast.

“Can you feel it, too?” she murmurs.

I lick my lips and nod.

“Are you doing it?”

I shake my head but don’t speak. I can’t. I’m too overwhelmed by what’s happening.

“I can…,” she starts. “I can feel you.”

Closing my eyes, I try and gather myself. But even with my lids clamped tight, nothing changes. I can sense Charlie. It’s like I know where she is without even seeing her. “How is this happening?” I ask, finding my voice.

“Maybe we drank too much,” she offers, though when I open my eyes again, I can tell she doesn’t believe that.

“It feels the same way it does when I sense a collector or liberator nearby.” And suddenly, understanding pours over me. I open my palm and look down at the ivory horn in my hand. Charlie sees me eyeing my horn, then looks down at her own.

“Amazing,” she says. I meet her eyes, and she smiles. “Your dad did this. Maybe he meant for you and me to share them.”

My eyebrows knit together as I try to process this.

“So that even when you’re gone,” she continues, “we’re together.”

I grip the horn like it’s a lifeline, because it is. I fight the emotion rolling through me. My father did this for me. He knows how I feel about her. I take Charlie’s face in my hands and pull her mouth to mine. I may be leaving for Denver tomorrow morning, but in a way, I’ll always be here with her.

And as long as I have that, this assignment will be cake.

5 A Little More Like Me

When Valery calls from outside Charlie’s house at the crack of dawn, I am not pleased. She, on the other hand, looks like a kid on Christmas morning. Like she can’t wait to see the angry look on my face.

Throwing the strap of my Louis V. bag over my shoulder, and rolling a matching suitcase behind me, I head toward her Mercedes. My Escalade is still parked out front. I hand the keys to Charlie, who’s walking beside me.

She grips them in her hand. “No way.”

I laugh despite feeling like the sun is trying to karate kick my brain. “All yours until I get back.”

Charlie throws her arms around my middle, making me grunt. I turn away because I don’t want her to see how I feel like screaming. How getting on a plane to Colorado makes me want to tear my damn eyes out.

“Hey, sunshine,” Val says after I put my bags in the trunk and crawl in the backseat. I nod and refrain from cussing her out. It’s too early for cussing, even for a gangster like me. Charlie climbs in beside me and lays her head on my shoulder.

“Max still asleep?” I ask.