He knew that she was awake as soon as he walked into the apartment. He could hear her heartbeat and breathing. He could almost picture her, leant against the doorframe of his bedroom, arms folded and pout on her face. He'd never seen her face, but in his mind, he could picture her. He'd spent hours tracing it in the past when she had been sleeping in his bed, his fingers running over her cheekbones and her lips. He'd pause by her eyes, feeling her long lashes as she moaned at him not to as it caused her to blink and eyes to water.

"What are you doing up?" he questioned, walking into the living area and folding his arms over his chest.

"Really?" she asked from him. "You're asking me what I'm doing up when you snuck out in the middle of the night?"

"I was just being polite," he said to her and she scoffed. He knew that nothing was going to wash with her. She was one of the few people who could see through him. He suspected it was because he'd known her since they were both teenagers. "I mean, I would understand if you're having trouble sleeping. It's been a busy few days and you've been-"

"-Matty, where have you been?" she interrupted him and he sighed. He moved further into the space, going to the kitchen and opening the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of beer, not entirely caring that it was almost gone one in the morning. He pulled the lid from it with the bottle opener in the drawer, tossing it into the trash can with one swift movement.

"I went to spy on your husband," he confessed.

"Matthew, why the hell would you do that?" she snapped at him.

He chuckled. "Full name, I must be in trouble."

"Don't joke," she demanded, moving closer to him, feet thudding on the floor as she stood on the other side of the worktop to him. "Why did you go and spy on him?"

"To see what was going on…and…a part of me had thought about doing more."

"You mean hurting him?"

"After what he's done to you, I think I'd be justified in my actions," he replied, voice deadpan. Charlotte shook her head, rolling her eyes at hearing him speak like that. She folded her arms on the worktop and leant forwards.

"And end up with him coming after you?"

"I wore a mask."

"We're not discussing this," Charlotte said firmly to him. "Matt, I'm serious. You can't go anywhere near him again. You know who he is and you know what he's capable of. I'm not just talking about physically either…he…I know he's doing business with some shady people. I know that and I ignored it because it kept me safe, but those people…they could come after you if you poke your nose in business that doesn't concern you."

"I know," he confirmed to her, taking a swig of his beer and placing it on the worktop. "I heard him talking with someone. The trial he's going to go through is rigged, Lottie. He has someone up high who is basically going to get him off."

"What?" Charlotte asked, brows furrowing and knitting together on her forehead. "No. That's not possible."

"You said yourself that he has friends in high places," Matt reminded her and she wanted to shake her head and tell him that wasn't what she meant. "Whoever he was talking to, he needs your husband free to do business with him. I don't know what that business is, but I get the feeling that it's not going to be anything that's pleasant. Plus, he did threaten me. He wants you back, Lottie. He wants you back and I don't think he's going to stop at anything to get you back."

"He threatened you?"

"Well, he threatened to come after me," Matt responded and he heard her pick up his bottle of beer. She took a drink from it and placed it back down. "He sees me as some weak blind guy who needs protecting. Plus, he seems to think that I'm…I'm your only weakness."

"He wouldn't be wrong," Charlotte responded honestly on that point. She wasn't going to deny things with him. "You're the only friend I currently have and he knows that, no matter what happened, I really did miss you."

"And I missed you," Matt promised her. "But the fact is that you're in trouble. He knows that you've been to see a divorce lawyer."

"How the hell does he know that?"

"Lottie, I'm not being funny, but you have a face that is pretty recognisable," he said to her and she moved her hand to the bruise on her cheek. Matt shook his head quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you're famous around these parts."

"You think someone at the firm let slip?"

"It would be my best guess," Matt assured her and she took another drink of his beer. "But he would have known sooner or later. The fact is that you need to be alert because I…I swear that I will always protect you, but I'd feel better if I knew that you could protect yourself."

Charlotte tilted her head to the side. She watched him as she held his beer in her hands, twirling it around on the worktop, the glass banging against the wood. "You mean that you want to teach me how to fight?'

"I think that it would be for the best," Matt said to her with a nod of his head.

She thought about what he was saying for a moment and then nodded her head. She took another drink of the beer and Matt's sightless gaze went over her shoulder. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Is that a yes or a no because I need verbal confirmation," he said to her.

"It's a yes," she said. "I guess you make a good point. It would be nice to be able to punch Jonathan for what he's done. I know vengeance isn't exactly advocated for, but it's not like I'm a good little Catholic girl anymore, is it?"

"You're not a bad person, Lottie."

"But I'm not exactly a good one," she said with a shake of her head. "But whatever, I'm not doing self-pity tonight."

"No, but you are drinking all my beer," he pointed out.

"Saving you from yourself."

Matt chuckled. "I don't need saving," he promised her.

"Really?" she asked pointedly. "Because if you'd have been caught tonight-"

"-I wasn't," Matt interrupted her before her mind could go to the darkest place she could think of. That would be no good for any of them. He knew what Lottie could be like. Even as a teenager, she would think of worst case scenarios. "And we know that I can handle him."

She scoffed. "Yeah, because Stick was such a good role model for you."

There was silence then between them and Charlotte almost felt a tiny bit guilty at bringing Stick up. She knew that Matt had acted like him leaving hadn't bothered him, but she knew better than that. Biting down on the tip of her tongue, she shook her head and he caught a whiff of his shampoo as her hair moved around the top of her head.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered to him.

He chuckled. "Sounded like you did," he replied, tone dry.

"Look, Stick was an ass to you, but I guess he did teach you some pretty cool things," she admitted on that, not entirely sure what she should be calling his fighting skills considering that they often made her quite uncomfortable. "I just don't want you to have to use them because of me. The guys who Jonathan know outnumber you. They probably have guns too."

"I can handle them."

"I don't doubt that you think you can," Charlotte assured him, "but the fact is that I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you, Matty. You…even if you could handle them…the thought of you getting hurt because of me isn't one that I'd like to entertain."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that…maybe I should go and see him."

"Absolutely not."

"Just to talk."

"And you think he'd be happy to leave it at talking?" Matt asked and she left his beer bottle on the worktop considering she'd drunk most of it. Heading to the sofa, she suspected that she was about to get a talking to from the lawyer. "He needs you as a pawn, Lottie. He needs you to try and help his image. With you by his side, standing with him against the allegations, he had some chance of keeping credibility. If the wife believes him then why shouldn't we? If you leave him, then he knows what it looks like. It looks like he's guilty and you know it."

"Matt, at this moment in time I don't care how it looks," she flapped her arms by her side and settled onto the couch. "The only thing I currently care about is you not getting hurt."

"I'm not-"

"-Please stop saying that you're not going to get hurt," she begged from him, unable to hear him give her anymore reassurances. She didn't want them because she wasn't going to believe them. "I just…you can teach me how to fight and yes, I agree it would be a good idea, but it would still be us two against him."

"We've faced worse odds," he commented, heading to the sofa and settling down on the other end of it. Draping an arm over the back of it, he moved his fingers to brush in her hair. She'd gone silent and stoic. He didn't know which Charlotte he preferred: the one who said what she thought or the one who kept everything bottled up.

"Talk to me," he whispered, stroking her hair softly and he felt the sofa cushions move with her shrug.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted to him. "I know what I should do. I should keep you safe and go back to him, but if I do that then he…I don't want to stand with him through the trial knowing what he did to those girls. And then…there's the selfish part of me that worries about what he'd do to me if I did go back."

"You're not going back so you don't need to worry about it."

"No, because then I'd just worry about what's going to happen to you," she said pointedly. "There's no winning, is there? Either way, he's going to have the upper hand and I'll never be able to take that from him."

"You will," Matt said and he moved closer to her, wondering if he overstepping boundaries. Hesitantly, and Matt Murdock was rarely hesitant, he let his arm fall over the back of the sofa and along her shoulders. Glancing to him, she saw his sightless gaze looking down to his lap, eyes wide and full of concern. Charlotte leaned into him, telling him that it was fine. "It's just going to take some time for you to get there, but you will. He won't get away with it forever."

Charlotte chuckled darkly. "This is Hell's Kitchen, Matty," she reminded him. "People have been getting away with so much since the attack on New York…much more than they did before."

"Again, that can't last forever."

"You have much more optimism than I do," Charlotte replied.

"You always were the pessimist."

"I don't think that's quite how I remember everything."

"I have a better memory than you," he said and he heard her laugh again, her head falling to his shoulder as she settled there comfortably. It felt exactly as it had done all of those years ago and she couldn't say that she was going to complain about it. "Just stay here, Lottie. Stay here with me and we'll fight him together."

And so she just moved a hand to his leg and squeezed it once. He suspected that was as good as he was going to get from her right at that moment in time.

…

"You need to tell me what is going on, man, I've been trying to call you since yesterday."

"Sorry, things were pretty hectic," Matt said to Foggy, the two of them sat in their office which resembled more of a storage cupboard. Matt's hair was slightly ruffled and his glasses were perched on the end of his nose. He'd left Charlotte in his apartment that morning, making her promise that she would call if anything was wrong and that she wouldn't leave. He hadn't walked out the door until he had been satisfied she was going nowhere.

Foggy scoffed, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat, the leather squelching under the movement. "Yeah, I kind of guessed that," he said. "What is she doing back here? I thought she wanted nothing to do with you after you crashed her wedding?"

"First of all, I did not crash her wedding."

Again, Foggy scoffed. "Matt, you cornered her in the church just as she was about to walk down the aisle," he reminded him. "And then you went to that dive bar downtown and drank so much vodka that I had to come and drag you home…all the while you protested against how much you loved her."

"I don't love her."

"Go round crashing many bride's weddings, do we?"

"I care for her. She's my friend and he was an asshole. I didn't want her to make a mistake."

"So nothing about you having feelings for her? Because no one has gotten close to you since…I mean…there was-"

"-Can we not talk about this right now?" Matt interrupted him. "It's in the past and it doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter apart from the fact that she's just walked right back into your life and she looks even more beautiful than she did that night she swore at you at the bar when we were at Columbia."

"I can't see her."

"Yet you still attract beautiful women," Foggy said.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them then and Matt knew that he shouldn't ask him. He knew that he was going to be opening another can of worms, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't stop it. "How is she more beautiful?"

He could almost see Foggy smirk at him on that. He had him right where he wanted him. "She's…she's all woman now. She's just stunning and I never understood why you weren't with her. She was so clearly in love with you."

"No, she wasn't," Matt denied.

"Yes, she was," Foggy responded. "Did you never wonder why she got engaged as soon as you told her that you were with someone else? She rushed straight into it and I'm guessing that, as much as I hate it when you say I told you so, you were right about not liking her husband."

"You saw the bruises?"

"Bruises…cut lip…saw it all," Foggy said to Matt with a nod of his head, watching his friend's reaction. He didn't entirely know how he was going to react, but he guessed that Matt already knew everything. But here he was at work. He'd come to work instead of being with her. He wouldn't have let her go, would he? "She cut me off before I could ask about it."

"Sounds like Lottie," Matt said. She hated being centre of attention. She always despised it. He moved his hand to his tie and adjusted it against his chest. Pushing a hand through his hair, his fingers raked through it and then went to his chin, feeling the three-day old stubble that was growing there. "But yeah, it was her husband. He did that to her."

"Was it the first time?"

Matt's silence spoke volumes and Foggy watched his jaw clench. Sitting up straight, Foggy closed the case file on his desk. There was no chance he was getting any work done anytime soon. He could see that Matt was agitated. He liked to think that he knew his friend well enough to know when things were getting to him and there had always been something about Charlotte Jonas that had gotten to him.

"How long?" Foggy dared to ask.

"She says the past year."

"Shit, Matty," Foggy whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

"I know," Matt could only agree with him. "She never knew about the college girls he sexually assaulted. She wants to go against him…get a divorce…but he's not going to let her go without a fight. He came to my apartment the other night and threatened her."

"You seriously think he'd come after her?"

"She's his meal ticket," Matt said to Fogg, lacing his fingers together on top of the desk. "He needs the devoted wife to help his image. If she leaves him then he looks guilty instantly. Plus…there's something about him…he's unhinged."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know," Matt confessed to him on that point. "I've told her that she can stay with me for as long as she needs to and I'm going to train her in self-defence…but I've left her alone…I shouldn't have left her alone."

"With any luck he'll be behind bars soon enough though, right? Evidence is stacked against him."

"Yeah," Matt said breathlessly. "But I'm not entirely comfortable with the justice system and high-level individuals. Listen, Foggy, I need to go. I thought that I could be here, but I can't…not right now…can you just tell them that I'll work from home?"

"Yeah, of course," Foggy said. That was no problem at all. "Do you need me to do anything for you? Get you anything?"

"I'm good, Foggy, thanks," Matt said and he stood up.

He started to pack his things away quickly, Foggy giving him a hand and getting him his laptop and screen reader that the law firm had given him. Once he was certain he had all of his things, he slipped his coat on and Foggy walked down with him to the foyer, watching him head out onto the street and hail a cab. He would have walked, but he just wanted to get home quickly. Once he was at his apartment, he knew that it was empty. He stepped into the door and walked through to the living room. There was no heartbeat. There was no sharp breath.

"Charlotte?" he called her name, despite the fact he knew there would be no response. Heading into the bedroom, he could smell her. She had been there. His hand ran over the bottom of his bed. He could feel the shirt he had given her to wear to bed.

Her shopping bags were still in the corner from the day before. He had given her his credit card and had let her buy what she needed. She'd promised to pay him back, but he hardly cared about that. Grabbing his phone from his trouser pocket, he flipped it open.

"Call Charlotte," he said into the phone.

Calling Charlotte, it responded to him.

He heard it continue ringing as he placed it to his ear and paced around his apartment. He thought that it was about to go to voicemail before he heard her answer.

"I'm fine, Matt, you don't need to worry about me."

"Just checking in," he said, grip tightening on the cell. "Where are you? You still at mine?"

"Yeah, I'm at yours," she said to him.

Matt's lips picked up into a smirk and he shook his head. Brow arching, he leant back against the wall by the window, kicking his heel up against the brickwork. "What are you up to?"

"I'm just about to make lunch."

"Anything good?"

"Maybe a grilled cheese."

"Not sure I have any cheese…do you want to check the fridge?"

"Sure, I'll do it now," she said to him.

"And while you're in there do you fancy telling me where you actually are?" Matt questioned from her.

"I told you-"

"-Well, if you're by the fridge then I might be blind, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have missed you from ten metres away," Matt interrupted her before she could say anything. She went silent. He closed his eyes and inhaled a sharp breath, trying to calm himself down. He wasn't going to get angry, despite the fact that she had explicitly lied to him. "So just tell me where you are."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"You're not doing a very good job," he deadpanned with her.

"I just needed some air…to get out…"

"Lottie, that's still not answering the question."

She sighed, but finally gave him the information he wanted. "Clinton Church."

52nd Street North West

"You know that you have this little mole right at the bottom of your back."

"That tickles," she complained and he watched her as she shuddered, his finger running down her spine and feeling the raised lump. She laughed once and tried to reach behind her body to grab his wrist and take his hand from her. She failed, however, as he simply just wrapped his arms around her, fingers digging into her sides and tickling her further. "Matty, stop it!"

He laughed along with her before she heard a thumping on the wall next to her small single bed that was nowhere near big enough for the both of them. She put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing wildly and Matt chuckled at the situation, lips continuously upturned. He finally relaxed his grip around her and felt her roll over, her front pressed to his side. He moved his arm to give her more room, lifting it up and wrapping it around her shoulders. Dropping a hand to his chest, she left her head by his shoulder.

"We're going to piss off my roommates," she said to him. "Janine is already upset with me because I ate her yoghurt by accident."

"Janine is the trainee nurse, right?"

"Works night shifts…continuously moody…that's the one," Charlotte said to him, her finger trailing along his bare chest. She tugged the duvet up and looked around her small room. She was glad that Matt couldn't actually see where she lived. "She does think you're incredibly hot though."

"She's got taste," Matt said and Charlotte nudged him in the ribs.

"Don't even think about it. She asked me what this was…this thing we're doing…if we're together."

"What did you tell her?"

Charlotte shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about the entire thing. "I told her that we were complicated…that you're going to college in a couple of months so we're not doing anything to make this official."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

She shrugged again. "I get it," she said to him. "You're going to be too busy for me anyway."

And she had no doubt he'd find someone as equally clever as him, able to challenge him. What would he want with some orphan from Texas who couldn't even waitress well? She enjoyed the time they spent together and she knew that was what she had to enjoy and savour for now. He was a good friend and she always wanted him to be that if she couldn't have anything else or if he really didn't want anything else.

"You know I'll always have time for you," Matt said.

"You'll spend so much time in the library that you'll forget about me," she said.

"I doubt it," he scoffed. "I've known you for years, Lottie. I'm not going to forget you just because I'm off to college. Besides, it's you who will forget me when you end up being a super famous artist."

She laughed softly at that, burrowing her face tighter against his neck as his hand ran up and down her back. She leant closer into him, one leg hooking in between both of his. He inhaled the smell of her mango shampoo mixed up with a sheen of sweat and the fresh detergent from the long top she wore with nothing underneath. Matt hadn't even bothered to pull on any clothes, the duvet hanging low on his hips.

"I'm not going to art school."

"Yeah, this year you're not…but you will," Matt promised her. "Next year. You're going to apply."

"You're very bossy," she said.

"I didn't hear you complaining about that ten minutes ago," he said in a low voice that made her shudder. She hit him against the chest to try and cover it up, but he used it to his advantage. Moving quickly, he grabbed hold of her wrists and pinned her beneath him, her legs parting as he collapsed between them. He kept her hands pinned on her pillow, forehead brushing hers before he kissed her sweetly. "But I'm serious. You need to go to art school. You're a terrible waitress."

"I spilled coffee one time."

"And you did it today judging by the way your uniform smelt when you got home."

"I really hate that you have these heightened senses, you know?"

"But we're not changing the topic. You need to do it next year…for me," he said and she sighed.

"I'll look into it if you stop nagging me."

"Never going to happen, but I'll take it," he said and Charlotte was relieved at that. She found it amazing that he had no sight but still seemed to have so much faith in her ability. "Anyway, I should get going. You need sleep."

"You don't want to stay?"

"You've been at work since six this morning. I don't think sharing a bed this small is conducive to you getting a good night sleep," he said to her but she shook her head, insisting that she was more than fine. She just didn't want to be left alone, not really. She had a flat share with four other people and she didn't seem to get on with many of them. In truth, she'd always struggled to make friends.

"Stay," she urged from him. "I'm fine and besides, you haven't told me about your day shopping for law textbooks."

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah, it might send me straight off to sleep," she said and he rolled his eyes back, lips turning up to one side. Charlotte pecked him once more on the lips before pushing him from her and he let her. She pulled her underwear onto her legs as Matt did the same with his underpants, pulling them up to his hips and then laying back down as Lottie did the same. She reached over him to turn the lamp out. She shifted onto her side, trapped between Matt and the wall but not complaining. He laid on his side, arm going over her waist and other arm stuck awkwardly beneath his body. But he didn't care. He was hardly going to complain about it.

"Very funny," he said to her, palm and fingers splayed against her stomach as he felt the material bunch up beneath his touch and he knew what top she was wearing. "I'm amazed this top isn't threadbare the amount you wear it."

"It's hanging in there," she said to him as he felt the slightly raised material. "Besides, Billy Joel will always be an icon."

"Why is it always Billy Joel with you?" he asked from her.

"My mom…when I was little…I just remember her always singing Uptown Girl whenever I went into the kitchen and found her making pancakes. We didn't have much when she was a single parent, but it was the happiest she'd ever been I think. She'd always toss the pancakes into the air and I'd watch in awe when they landed back in the pan. She…those are the times I'd prefer to remember…before she met Mike and things went to shit."

Matt knew about her childhood. She'd told him how she had been eight when her mother had met Mike and things had gone terribly wrong. By the age of ten, her mom had died from an overdose and Mike had left her in that house for five days until a neighbour found her. She'd never known her dad. He'd walked out on them when she was two.

"I'm sorry."

"It's in the past."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," he said.

"I guess not," she agreed. They were quiet for a moment and she felt him kiss the side of her neck softly, almost too tender than usual. "Besides, it used to piss the nuns off whenever I played Only The Good Die Young."

Matt laughed at that, knowing that she was trying to lighten the tone and he was going to let her. He wouldn't push her on her childhood. He'd give her the space she needed just as she had him whenever he didn't want to talk about Stick or his own father.

"Isn't that the one about a guy trying to corrupt a good Catholic girl."

"Ironic, right?" she joked with him and he continued smiling as he felt her fingers wrap into his against her stomach. "Sister Dora hated it, but I quite liked winding her up. Imagine if she found out what we'd been getting up to."

"Oh, we're definitely going to burn in hell," he assured her and she couldn't resist smiling at that. "You upset because you're hardly a good Catholic girl now?"

"And when was the last time you went to Mass, Mr Murdock?" she questioned and he nodded. She had him there.

"Touché, Lottie. Touché," he gave her that one. "You know, my grandma always used to say that Murdock men had the devil in them. I guess she might not be wrong."

"You're hardly a devil. Besides, I didn't take much convincing to corrupt."

"I think it was you who jumped on me the first time too."

"Not how I remember it," she retorted.

"Exactly how I remember it." He said to her and she nudged him once more in the ribs. He chuckled deeply and kissed her covered shoulder. "Get some sleep, Lottie," he urged from her. "I'll be here in the morning."

"Not going to disappear?"

"Not going to disappear," he promised her in a soft voice and she moved further down the mattress, snuggling deeper under her duvet, tugging it to her chin and pulling some from Matt. He didn't complain. He just let her take it.

…

Matt looked at the door to the church and inhaled a sharp breath. He knew that he had to go in. It had been quite some time since he had gone to Mass and even longer since he'd confessed. Father Lantom was nowhere to be seen. It was completely empty, only one heartbeat apparent to him. He smelt his shampoo and conditioner on her, alongside a hint of her usual perfume. He moved ahead, cane in front of him as he came to the pew she was perched on.

"Why did you come here?" he asked her, going to sit down next to her.

He rested his cane by his side, arm dangling on the back of the pew. He adjusted his glasses with his other hand on his nose. He could feel the warmth of her body next to his own. He heard her shift, the rustling of material telling him she was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He suspected it was one of his, despite her having her own clothes. Nervously, Charlotte tucked her hair behind her ear and turned to look to him, dressed in his smart grey suit with white shirt and dark blue tie.

"I thought that maybe it was about time I came to confession."

"Father Lantom isn't here."

"He left about an hour ago when I told him that I wasn't sure if I was ready to confess," Charlotte replied. "He told me he'd be back later. There's some bake sale at five so I need to be out for then. Apart from that, there's been no one who has come or gone."

"And how long have you been sat here?"

"I lost track of time."

Matt sighed heavily. "I told you to stay in the apartment, Lottie. Anything could happen to you if you're running around the streets."

"Matty, nothing is going to happen to me. It's you who I'm worried about," she responded. "He…I don't think there's anything else he can do to me that would hurt me, not really and not as much as it would hurt me to think of him hurting you."

"I'm not letting him hurt any of us," he said to her. "But I do need you to avoid running off, if only for my own sanity. I…I thought the worst…that you'd gone back to him."

"I should."

"We discussed this," he reminded her. "You promised not to go anywhere. We're going to fight whatever this is together. I need you to work with me though. I need you…I just need you to trust me. And I know I haven't done anything to earn that, but I just need you to believe me that I've got your back in this."

"I do trust you," Charlotte assured him. "Matt, I thought it would be obvious that you're probably the only one I trust."

"Thank you," he said calmly to her. "Then no more running off to deliver confession, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed with him and looked to the front, gaze glancing up to the crucifix at the front of the church. "Do you remember when we used to come to Mass every week? Do you still come?"

Matt chuckled. "I'm more inclined to be in bed on a Sunday morning," he said to her. "And confession isn't exactly something I've done in a while. I'd need quite some time in that booth after the sins I've committed."

"Join the club," she scoffed.

"You made a choice."

"I know, but there's a lot of guilt surrounding that decision and do you want to know the worst thing? When I found out I was pregnant, I didn't even feel anything but fear. There was no elation…no joy…I just cried for hours and wondered what to do. In that moment…I knew I couldn't tell my husband. I could never tell him…but all I wanted to do was find you. I know it's stupid. We hadn't spoken in years, but I just knew that you'd know what to do. You'd be calm and understanding."

"You could've come to me," he assured her on that point. "I would have helped you."

"I just figured that I'd have to do it on my own," she said. "It's funny. Every day I was surrounded by New York socialites…fancy events…and every day that went by I just felt more alone than ever."

"But you're not alone now, Lottie. Don't think that, okay?"

"I know," she said and reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly in her grip. He felt her try to pull away, but he kept his hand inside of hers, sitting back against the pew, fingers entwined with hers as his thumb ran over the back of her hand.

He didn't know how long had passed before he heard it. He sat up straight, head tilting and gaze moving to the door. Charlotte picked up in the change of his demeanour and her brows furrowed. "What is it?" she asked.

"Two cars approaching…fast…" he said to her and she looked to the door. She could hardly hear anything. "Something's wrong. We need to get out of here."

"Matty," she whispered, voice shaking as he stood up and kept her hand in his, dragging her to her feet.

He dragged her away from the pews to the side room where Father Lantom usually found himself relaxing before services. He closed the door as the car tyres came to a squealing halt. Honing in on his hearing again, he shook his head. "They've got guns."

"What?" she snapped.

"Listen to me, Lottie," Matt demanded, hands going to her cheeks and he bent down so he was the same height as her, forehead pushing to hers. "I need you to do exactly as I say and we'll get out of here, alright?"

"But if they're here for me-"

"-Lottie," he interrupted her firmly and she looked to his sightless gaze as he stared past her. "I've got you. Just listen to me, okay?"

She nodded her head and he sensed that she trusted him. He pecked her once on the forehead before quickly devising a plan and preparing for a showdown. He had to take care of this because he had no faith in the justice system to do that for him or, more importantly, for Charlotte.

…

A/N: So not sure if anyone is interested/reading. If you are, please let me know what you think! Any suspicions? Anything you want to see?