"You've got the wrong place." Charlie didn't explain how she got the wrong place, and he wasn't going to. He just took a bite of his apple and leaned against the door jamb, blocking any entrance she might have. This wasn't the goofy fellow who threatened to shoot her because he was a cop. He had a different feel to him; he'd been in before, and he'd survived.
He chewed the bite of apple thoughtfully, and those thoughts were anything but calm and soothing. While he understood that Firekeeper needed friends, this friend she didn't need. Gun-toting maniacs really weren't the best for braiding hair and doing nails...okay, in some cases they were, but he didn't like that this particular gun-toting maniac now knew his address.
"Guess you'll have to go," said upon swallowing apple. "Wouldn't suggest coming back either." There wasn't a smile. There wasn't that searching look to his eyes. He was cold and blank. This was his house; Firekeeper, whether she wanted it or not, was now under his protection. The house already had filled its quota on whackjobs.