Serena tapped her keyboard. Multitasking seemed to be her default state. “I know. It’s where you were working to find the man who nearly killed Eve. I have it mostly written here, though names have been changed to protect the innocent.”
“He’s going to murder you,” Avery said in a singsong voice, as though she’d said it so many times it now had to be sung.
“He won’t read it. Ian doesn’t read anything but the newspaper and reports.” Serena waved her off. “And it’s not really about you and Ian. It’s just about a woman who’s been on the run for years and her spy husband thinks she’s dead but whoops, she’s not and she comes back for her man. Very little to do with you. What did they call the drug that made it look like you were dead?”
Yep, Ian was going to kill Serena, but Charlie kind of hoped she got to read that book. She definitely hoped it had a happy ending. She pulled her shirt over her head and tried not to think about how her boobs sagged a little. She wasn’t usually nervous. Ian had seen them earlier and he seemed to like them. Or at least his dick had liked them. She stood up a little straighter. She wasn’t a thin thing, but she was nicely curved and no one could accuse her of being fragile.
Eve was studying her carefully. “What just went on in your head?”
Honesty was the best policy, most of the time. “I was feeling self-conscious about being naked. I decided not to be.”
A little smile curled up Eve’s lips. “Good for you.”
“Could you teach me to do that?” Serena asked. “Because I’m always self-conscious.”
She didn’t tell Serena that she’d learned it in the harshest of ways. She’d learned to choose because if she hadn’t, she would have broken. Never forget. You are my daughter. You are Charlotte, and no one gets to take that from you. The last words her mother had told her.
Her father had tried. He’d beaten her. He’d denied food for a while. He could force her compliance, make her do things she normally wouldn’t do, but she hadn’t let him change that core piece of herself that remained Charlotte.
Only one man could do that. The one she’d chosen.
“Are you really always self-conscious? Because I’ve learned that most women aren’t really. Serena, do you like what you see in the mirror? Are you comfortable with your body when you’re alone?”
She thought about it for a moment. “Yes. Actually I really am. When I’m alone, I tend to dance around half naked, so yes.”
Most women were. They only started to hate themselves when other people became involved. “Sweetie, then what does it matter what anyone else thinks? You have to decide what’s good enough for you. If you spend your life trying to live up to everyone else, you’ll have a wasted life.”
“Holy shit. I’m totally writing that down.”
Avery smiled. “I like that. I like that a lot.”
“My sister is quite the philosopher,” a familiar voice said.
Wow. The absolute last person she thought she’d see here in Sanctum was Chelsea and yet there she stood in the doorway, a bag in hand. “Hey, Chels.”
Her sister glared at her and then broke down laughing. “I should have known you would be naked somewhere. You never did have body issues like the rest of us.”
“Only because I accept the whole sad package,” Charlie admitted. Chelsea was definitely one of those women who was comfortable up until the moment a man walked in the room. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be in Barbados by now.”
“And leave my big sis? No. I’m not going anywhere without you.” She walked into the room, the only sign of her bad leg a slight limp. “If we’re making a stand, then you have to know I’m standing with you. As to why I’m here in this den of iniquity, well, the British asshole and the American idiot decided I needed a little vacation from my very nice condo and they decided to bring me here. They actually got past security by claiming to be messengers. I’m complaining to management about the doorman. They were supposed to go to the fifth floor, but apparently one of them is damn good at rewiring elevators. He’s also quiet or I would have taken his head off. Your Neanderthal apparently wants to keep the family together.”
“He probably wants to keep an eye on both of us while the whole ‘assassins trying to kill us’ thing gets sorted out.” She had no real idea how they were going to sort it out. She’d kind of hoped she would have some time before they caught up to her. No such luck.
“Are you really an information broker?” Serena asked.
Chelsea’s eyes widened. “Did you pass out business cards?”
Charlie shrugged as Eve was working out the laces on the corset. She slipped the small band of spandex over her hips. It would barely cover her ass, but that was likely the point. She noted that someone had been a little kinder to her sister. It looked like she was holding PVC leggings and a matching tank top. “I don’t lie about what we do.”
Chelsea cleared her throat deliberately.
She took everything so seriously. “Well, of course I lie to the Feds. I was talking about our friends.”
“You’ll have to give me some time to figure out if they are our friends. Where can I get some privacy? As long as I’m here, I could use a workout. My leg is stiff. I’ve been sitting for days.”
“There are changing rooms and showers you can use,” Eve explained, gesturing toward the back of the locker room.
“Excellent.” Chelsea walked back to the dressing rooms, her left leg dragging just a bit. She was probably in extreme pain, but she wouldn’t show it. One of the ways she’d learned to deal with the pain was BDSM. Charlie might not have had a Dom since Ian, but she’d found several willing to help her sister out.
“So she seems oddly comfortable for a woman who was likely dragged out of her home and taken to a sex club. Arms up.” Eve held out the emerald green corset, stretching it around Charlie’s torso before she started in on the laces.
“She has some problems with her legs, especially her left one. A good long flogging gives her some relief. We normally had Doms come out to our place, but she’s been in a few clubs as well.” She took a deep breath because it would likely be her last of the evening.
The door to the locker room opened again and two women walked in. Both were blonde and looked in desperate need of a cheeseburger. One of the blondes had a nice rack and the other had a fake one. They carried in their fet wear in dress bags.