Alright everyone, sorry it's been so long, I started my first year of college and well…I wrote, I just didn't have the time to post. So I went back and added a few chapters to the beginning of the story and I've gotten a few more toward the ending, so start over and enjoy!

Ch. 17

Charlotte drove down the main road in town, speeding much faster than what was legal. She couldn't keep her truck in her lane, but that didn't matter. She was almost to her destination. There was only one motel in Cainsville, a sleazy place where married men could take the town whores for privacy. It was the first, and most likely, place to find Agent Neo Beckett. So Charlotte headed away from her home to the man that had promised he could take her away. That had been her dream right? To get away from this terrible place before it corrupted her? It was a little late, but there was still time. She could rejoin the normal world and…and do what? She didn't know yet, but she could figure it out later. First she had to actually get out of Cainsville. She had to convince the agent to get her out without turning on her family. She had a plan for that.

Charlotte turned into the small paved parking lot of the motel. There were only three cars in the parking lot. A small pink VW Bug that belonged to Lowell's wife, Nora, five doors down was a crap Ford, probably belonging to one of the guys from the garage. Finally, all the way at the end of motel building was the large black SUV. Charlotte pulled her truck in the empty space next to the SUV, there was a 'do not disturb' sign hanging from the door handle of the fifteenth room and Charlotte smiled. It'd be perfect if she caught the cop with a prostitute. She went to the door, slamming her fist repeatedly against the hard surface. There was a muffled thud and then some soft grumbling before Agent Neo Beckett answered the door, glaring daggers at whoever was disturbing him. He was shirtless, rubbing sleep from his tired eyes. She'd obviously woken him. Charlotte gave him the slyest smile she could muster, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him to wake up and recognize her.

"Miss Devereaux, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Agent Beckett asked through a yawn. Charlotte's smile drooped.

"Well, pleasure could be the intention." She regained her composure, hand coming up to undo a few of the buttons on her shirt. The lace of her bra could be seen and she could see his eyes drift down. He blinked, drawing his eyes back to hers and clearing his throat.

"Miss Devereaux, what are you doing here?" he asked again, more awake now.

"I wanted to talk to you, about what you offered the other day," she batted her eyes to him, pouting, "Can I come in? It's kind of cold." She shivered sardonically, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Beckett gave a little smirk.

"If you'd stop taking off your clothes, you might be a little warmer." She dropped her arms, glaring at him, agitated that he was dismissing her so easily. She pushed passed him, entering the dingy little room, casting a disdainful look at the cheap décor. Mac's house wasn't much, but it was better than this disgusting place. "Come on in, I wasn't asleep or anything," Beckett muttered to himself, closing the door and turning to face her again. Charlotte was sitting on his bed one long leg crossed over her other knee. She leaned back, letting her shirt fall open a little more. "So you wanted to talk?" he prodded, keeping his eyes aimed over her head.

"Don't be shy, Special Agent," she purred, her fingers started to undo the remaining buttons of her shirt until the fabric laid open, baring her thin stomach and high, lace covered breasts. "Come on, why don't you join me?" she patted the spot next to her, smiling suggestively.

"Miss Deveraux," Beckett said again, his tone a little firmer, "what did you come here for?" Charlotte sighed; Beckett sniffed the air, frowning at her. He came closer, leaning into her face. "God damn, you're drunk," he accused. Charlotte tightened her lips closed, frowning at the stupid, observant agent. "Go brush your teeth," he demanded, pointing toward the bathroom. Charlotte scoffed.

"You won't fuck me, but you'll let me use your toothbrush, isn't that a little messed up?" she asked snidely. Beckett watched her sneer, thinking about his daughter. It clicked then, that little niggle in his mind that he hadn't been able to name before.

She was a child. A petulant little child who needed discipline.

"Go." He ordered again, the "dad voice" coming out. Her eyes widened, but Charlotte stood, moving into the little bathroom with a frown. She flicked the switch, bathing the dingy tile with the light that didn't really lighten anything. Everything was dirty and chipping, she felt even more disgusting then she was.

"I'm taking a shower while I'm in here," Charlotte called, "Feel free to join me." She thought she heard Beckett grumble, but she couldn't make out any words. She rolled her eyes at her reflection, closing the door, stripping down and turning on the shower. While the water heated she brushed her teeth, nosily looking through his little black bag of bathroom things. The man liked to be clean. Shaving cream, expensive razor, mouthwash, he had it all. It made her smile a little. She'd never met a man so obsessive about hygiene before. In fact, it'd been a long time since she'd met a man that could resist her obvious seduction attempts.

That kind of made her smile too.

Neo fell back onto the squeaky bed, listening to the shower kick on. His arm came over his eyes, blocking out the dim light, a sigh slipping from parted lips. He tried not to think about the girl in his motel room shower. Instead he wondered why she was there at all. Two days ago, when he'd shown up at her house, she'd been less then enthused by his presence. She'd called Walter right after he'd pulled away too. That hadn't surprised him though, the girl had been brainwashed since she was fourteen, if his records were correct. He had no knowledge on how she'd come to Cainsville, but he did know, from surveillance and informant records, that Walter had taken her in.

As the ringleader, Walter had almost immediately started exploiting Charlotte Deveraux's mathematic ability. From what Neo had on record though, besides working the books and general knowledge about the drugs, Miss Devereaux had no other connection to Walter's business. She lived with one of the main producers though, her "brother" as she'd called Mac the first time she'd met Neo. From what Lowell Pratt had told him, Charlotte and Mac had an intimate and sometimes violent relationship.

Another sigh escaped Neo. The violent part was obviously true, given the amounts of scarring on her body. She didn't seem to care if people saw them, since she'd strutted around in front of him with her shirt undone. Neo imagined that was just a front though. Weakness wasn't something easily shown in Cainsville. He couldn't fathom how Charlotte had survived like she had for so long. Neo conjured up a picture of his own daughter and smiled. Her pretty red ringlets shining in the sun as she played on the beach, running away from the cold water as the tide came in. He'd kill to protect his daughter; Glo was the light of his life. He couldn't think of any situation that would make him abandon her somewhere like Cainsville. Leaving Gloria with her mother was bad enough, but someone like Walter? Never.

"What are you thinking about?" Neo's arm came up, one eye training on Charlotte, leaning against the bathroom doorway. She was wrapped in one of the thin, frayed motel towels. It hardly came to the middle of her thighs and it took an immense amount of will power not to stare anywhere but her eyes. He focused on her question, she sounded sincere enough, but it wouldn't be the first time someone like Walter sent a pretty girl to distract or attempt to kill him.

"My daughter," Neo answered, dropping his arm from over his eyes completely. He lifted himself onto his elbows, if she was here for Walter, two people could play that game. Charlotte gave a warm smile and her hand traced her stomach almost unconsciously.

"You must really love her."

Neo raised an eyebrow, "Why do you say that?"

"Your smile, nothing makes me smile like that." Her pewter eyes darkened a little, genuine sadness drifting through the bluish depths.

"I do," he answered after a moment of silence. Charlotte nodded, but it was an awkward kind of motion, jerky, like she wasn't sure if that was what she wanted to do. Another silence washed over them. It wasn't comfortable. Charlotte shifted her feet, eyes flicking around the room. She was so unsure of herself when she was out of her element. Neo pushed himself up completely, resting his arms on his knees, watching her façade falter.

"Do you have anything to put on that doesn't smell like a bar?" Charlotte's strange colored eyes fell on him. Her head shook once. Neo gave her a small smile, standing from the bed and moving to the suitcase lying open in the corner behind her. It took him a minute to move her out of the way. With a gentle grip on her small shoulders he side-stepped her a few steps, noting for the first time how much shorter she was then him. It took him a large amount of effort to let her go. Ignoring how smooth her skin was and how lingeringly warm her body was from her shower. He knelt to the suitcase, digging for one of the t-shirts he'd packed. When he found it, he handed it over. Charlotte held the worn shirt in her hand, stroking her thumb over the soft material. Without a word, Charlotte dropped the towel, replacing it with the shirt. Neo looked over her head as the towel hit the floor, thanking whatever higher being that made him put on the oversized sweatpants he'd adorned for sleep.

"Why don't you look at me?" The soft voice drew his eyes back down. It was so quiet, sad, like the thought of being unattractive to anyone caused her physical pain.

"I…" Neo didn't really have an excuse. It definitely wasn't because he wasn't attracted to her.

"Is it 'cause you're married?" She gave a thoughtful look, hurt flashing through her irises, "That can't be right," she murmured, more to herself. "Even married men stray. Married women too."

"I'm not married." His response was immediate, rehearsed. Charlotte blinked, shocked by the intensity of his words.

"Oh…" she moved away from him. Setting herself on the bed gently. His shirt was long on her, ending a little lower than the towel had. Even so, she kept her ankles crossed daintily, keeping herself modest. Neo fell into the chair, facing her. This silence was a little less awkward. "Do you have any pictures of her?"

"Who?"

"Your daughter?" Neo grinned and it caught Charlotte off guard. Was it possible to be so…happy, just from the thought of a person?

"My wallet," he lifted his chin to the nightstand. Charlotte turned, circling the bed to grab the leather case. She returned to her place, facing him as she opened the wallet, letting the slides of pictures fold out. There were six images, different ages. She assumed they were in chronologic order, but she wanted clarification…or maybe she just wanted him to talk again. He had a nice voice.

"How old is she?"

Neo stood, moving across the small room to sit next to her on the bed. He took the wallet from her hands, holding it long ways so that the pictures were in the right direction. "She's six."

"What's her name?"

"Gloria. She prefers Glo, though."

"I don't think my mom ever had pictures of me," Charlotte said without thinking. She was staring at the photos, inspecting each one. A few looked professional, but most looked like they'd been taken spur of the moment. Neo looked at her, trying to figure out if she'd really just said something about herself. She had, he was sure, but she didn't realize it. "She's beautiful," Charlotte's voice broke through the quiet; her fingers traced the plastic covering of Glo's six year old face.

"She is."

"She looks like you. In the eyes, the hair a little." Neo gave her a strange look, when she looked up at him, she giggled. "The way the light makes the color change. It may not be the same shades, but it's the same." He accepts this explanation with a nod. She lay back then, head tilting to the side. She smiled up at him, nothing seductive or suggestive. Her smile was honest. Happy. He noticed though, her hand was resting on her stomach again, tracing an invisible line through the shirt.

Or a not so invisible one.

Neo's hand came out, sliding the shirt up her stomach, ignoring her lack of underwear beneath. His eyes came to the scar across her lower stomach. It was nearly white, standing out against her tan skin.

"Did they do this?" he demanded, anger welling up inside him. Charlotte's smile vanished, her hand latching onto his wrist to pull it away. He didn't have to specify who "they" were supposed to be.

"It was a mistake."

"What, you accidentally fell into Mac's knife?"

"No"

"Or was it Walter? Why the hell are you even here?" Charlotte shoved him away, sitting up and off the bed in one fluid motion.

"Why do you care?" she snapped. "Why are you here?" Neo fell silent. There was no denying the tears slipping from her eyes. No way to ignore that her hand was back over her stomach, over the scar, holding herself protectively.

"I want to help."

"Why?" the question was weak.

"Because if it was my daughter, I'd want someone to help her." Charlotte didn't say anything, so Neo continued. "Your friend is pregnant, Nora, right?" she nodded. "Don't you want her to be safe?"

Charlotte's mind flashed back to the cave, to Lowell laying over Julianne. She thought about Nora, how happy the woman was to be pregnant, how happy she was to have married Lowell. "Yes," she whispered.

"Then let me help."

Charlotte stayed silent for several beats. Neo moved off the bed, laying his hand over hers on the scar.

"I can get you out of here. I can help you, if you help me. I can keep you safe." He stayed close to her, setting his forehead against her temple. It was impractical, getting so close to her. But he couldn't resist. She reminded him so much of Glo, so headstrong, but so breakable.

He wanted to save her.

"What do I need to do?"