Losing Hope | {BOOK 4}

18| Dark Charlie

We went to a bar so Charlie could explain to us what was going on. Apparently, the other Charlie we'd met was her inner darkness that had been let out thanks to the Wizard of Oz. There had been a war, and he had said the only way to win was to unleash her inner darkness. They were still connected physically, so if one of them got hurt, so would the other, they were just separated.

According to Good Charlie, Dark Charlie was gunning for revenge because she wanted to win Good Charlie back. Good Charlie coached Sam through hacking into Barbara's bank accounts so we could track down where Dark Charlie would go next. Through that, we learned about Russell Wellington, the drunk driver who'd killed Charlie's parents.

"So, this is him?" Charlie stared at the screen. "This is the man who, uh..."

"And you're done," I said, shutting the laptop. "Guys."

I started to pull Sam and Dean away to consult, but Good Charlie stopped us.

"Hey, dudes. Dudes. Secrets are bad."

"Charlie, I don't think you should be anywhere around this piece of crap salesman," I told her.

"And- and I don't think that finding Dark Charlie and locking her up is gonna work," Sam added. "I mean, she may be... dark, but she's still a part of you."

"You're right," Good Charlie nodded. "I hate it, but you're right. Okay. Let's go back to the Bunker. Baum used the key to Oz. Maybe there's something in the Men of Letters' files about the key. If we fix it, we can get back to Oz."

"Alright, you guys dig into that," I shot at the brothers. "I'm gonna keep an eye on Russell and, uh... wait for Dark Charlie to show up."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked. "Ellie, maybe... maybe one of us should be the one..."

"No, no, no, no, no. I got it," I dismissed him. "It's, uh- I just can't believe I have to... protect this piece of crap."

"No, you got to protect them both," Sam corrected. "I mean, if Dark Charlie gets hurt, then..."

"So, do I, so... be careful," Good Charlie told me.

"Got it."

I left the bar, hotwiring a car so I could go stake out Russell's place of business. When he showed up, I headed inside and signed in before taking a seat in the waiting room. I got distracted reading a magazine, only looking up when the assistant called my name.

"Mrs. Johnson? Mrs. Johnson?"

"Yes. Yeah. Hi," I stammered, looking at her. "Uh, actually, I'm, uh, you know, really into this article on, uh... mammograms. Riveting stuff. If somebody else wants to, uh..."

I trailed off as I looked around, realizing I was the only one left.

"Right. Yes. Okay. Well, let's do this."

The assistant showed me into Russell's office, hovering for a moment.

"Mrs. Johnson for you, sir," she said.

"Is that it for the day?" Russell asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. You can head out. Uh, I need my, uh, dry cleaning taken to the lake house, and, uh, pick up Pepper and take her to the dog groomers, okay?"

"Yes, sir," the assistant said again, leaving the room.

"Thank you. Mrs. Johnson, Russell Wellington," he introduced himself, shaking my hand. "Please have a seat. So... what can you tell me about what you're looking for today?"

"Uh, right. Well, um... Let me describe my dream home."

I started going off on a tangent about an elaborate house that I knew realistically I could never afford in an effort to stall for time. After several minutes, Russell finally cut me off.

"Uh, Mrs. Johnson, look, I'm just gonna stop you right there. Judging from your cheap shoes and your faded jeans, I'm guessing the only house you're in the market for comes with wheels. Now, look, I'm a busy man. My time is extremely valuable. I prefer not to have it wasted by some hayseed."

"I'm willing to buy, if you're willing to sell," I insisted. "So why don't you show me what you got?"

"Well, I can show you the door," he said, picking up the phone to call security.

I reached across the desk, hitting the button to disconnect the call before it could go through.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Russell demanded.

"I'm the girl who's gonna save your life."

"Excuse me?"

"Hill and Oak Street. Station wagon with a man and a woman in it, on their way to pick up their little daughter from a slumber party. That ring a bell?"

"I-I-I-I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, shaking his head.

"Oh, no, you wouldn't," I smirked, "'cause you were too drunk to remember anything that night."

"I think you have me confused with somebody else. Or somebody that cares."

"Or maybe somebody who wouldn't pay people off to cover up manslaughter," I suggested ominously.

"You're insane," he breathed.

Just then, the lights in the building shut off.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Stay here. Do not leave this room."

I left, finding Dark Charlie out in the waiting room.

"Charlie? Let's talk about this."

"You Winchesters and your talk," she scoffed. "Blah, blah, blah, repressed feelings. Blah, blah, blah, passive aggression."

"Come on, kiddo. You don't want to do this."

"I don't want to hurt him. I just want to talk."

"Yeah, like you talked to all the others?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"You're right. I got out of hand. But this was never about revenge."

"Right."

"I want him to see my face. I want him to see what he did to me... to us. That's all. Please, Ellie. I deserve that. And then we hand him over to cops."

She held out her knife to me, handle first.

"Okay," I nodded, taking the knife.

I allowed her to head into Russell's office, and she closed and locked the door behind her. I hovered outside, listening intently. A moment later, I heard noises like Charlie wasn't just talking to him.

"Charlie! Charlie! Don't do this, Charlie!"

As I broke into the office, I found Russell dead and the window broken, Charlie nowhere in sight. I called Dean from a bar, letting him and the others know Russell was dead.

"Are you gonna stare at that all night?" the bartender asked me once I'd hung up.

"I'm pacing myself," I muttered.

"She's cute," Dark Charlie nodded at the bartender.

"You lied to me," I said, not looking over at her.

"You lied to yourself. That's kind of become your move. Dean's rubbed off on you. Something's off about you, though, isn't it? It's always something with you three."

"I've made mistakes. But I'll pay for mine. And you'll pay for yours."

"Come on, Ellie. I'm not the monster here," she insisted. "He was. He got what he deserved. You know I'm right. You know what I learned about being dark? It sets you free. And part of you knows that's right, too."