Chapter 14
14
CHARLOTTE
I gasped, clutching at Richard’s hands as they closed around my throat.
“Do you like that? I can have you even in your own dreams,” he growled as he slammed into me. “Fuck, this is better than I imagined it would be.”
I struggled to draw in breath as a silent tear escaped my eyes, and I turned my face away from him as he took me….
“No!” I cried out as my eyes shot open and darted around the room.
A shadowed figure loomed over me and I struck out, determined to keep Walker away from me. Pain radiated from my fist as I made contact, and a frightened look crossed my face as an audible breath was forced out of his body.
“Charlotte, it’s me,” Rowan said as the shadow backed away.
Light flooded the room when he flipped the light switch, and my face fell as I saw the blood trickling out of his nose.
“I hit you,” Roe wiped at his nose and looked back at me. “I hit you,” I repeated in shock. What have I done?
“It’s okay, Charlotte. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have approached you like that,” he replied softly, holding his arms up in surrender.
I shook my head frantically. “No, Rowan, it’s not okay. None of this is okay!” I shouted, clambering out of bed and running to the door flinching when he reached for me. On the way out I smashed my elbow against the door frame in my haste to leave, and a zing of pain crawled up my arm. In a way it felt nice, I don’t feel much anymore.
“Lottie, come back!” he yelled, but I was already out the door, and I ran until my legs hurt.
As my nerves settled, I realized that my feet had taken me to the office. I entered my father’s— my office, and?looked around; memories from that night ran rampant. Jason was right…I don’t deserve all of this. Opting to keep the lights off I walked further in closing the door softly behind me. It was the middle of the night, and I didn’t want to wake anyone.
The room seemed chilled, as though a window had been left open, but on closer inspection they were all shut tightly. I shivered, imagining my father sitting on the couch telling me how to run things, move the money, where we received and exchanged product, and from whom. Who our allies were and their part in the business. Pacing the room, I blinked away the tears that threatened to fall as I tried to remember my father.
He was intelligent, brave, and always knew what to do no matter the situation. And I found myself needing him now, more than ever. The memories seemed distant now, so I coped by trying to chase away the good memories that threatened to pull me out of the darkness. It’s not that I didn’t want to be happy; I just felt I needed some sort of closure over what happened to me, and I had no idea how to find it.
I never got to say goodbye before my father passed away, and that was my biggest regret. And before I could even begin to mourn his loss, I’d been tied up, drugged, and abused in ways I never thought possible.
Being questioned about my motives and intentions in the meeting a few days earlier hadn’t sat well with me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why not hit them hard like they hit us? I had the power to give them what they deserved, yet I hesitated to act. Lacing the contraband was just the beginning, but it wasn't enough, and killing innocent people was starting to weigh on me. The man I loved used to handle the same supply and that was what made me realize who I was hurting.
There was always a better way, maybe I didn’t have to be as ruthless as my father before me, but that would mean one thing. Trying to negotiate peace with the Walkers, and I wasn’t sure if I could do that, at least right now.
I chalked it up to respecting my father’s wishes with the company. I knew he had done some terrible things to people, too, but after experiencing what the Walkers devoted their lives to, I felt I could easily forgive him for the times I caught him torturing one of Walker’s men for intel.
I walked closer to his desk and paused, my fingertips resting gently on the lacquered wood, and stared intently at the chair that had sat empty all this time. That chair was where it all started; it was where my father had conducted his last meeting, where I’d been tied up and forced to watch Roe fall to Jason. It was the beginning of my torture and the murder of my men.
I was expected to sit in that chair and lead the company. I heard the door open behind me and I let the sound distract me from my rampant thoughts. I knew it was Roe, but I didn’t turn. I didn’t want to see him, or for him to see me like that. I felt very vulnerable, and I wrapped my arms around my midsection tightly.
The muffled footsteps stopped a few feet behind me.
“Charlotte, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rowan said. “Why did you run away from me?”
He sounded hurt and giving him an answer wasn't an option. Pursuing my lips, I kept my eyes on the chair, and the shadows that reflected from the moonlight danced, giving it the effect of humor. The chair was laughing at me. I knitted my eyebrows together and walked around the desk, ignoring Rowan’s question. I felt his eyes boring into me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t do it anymore. This needs to happen, of all people he would understand.
“I hate this fucking chair,” I said through gritted teeth, picking it up, I walked to the window with it, though difficult. It was as heavy as my mind, weighing me down the further I walked with it.
With all my strength, I threw it at the paned window and smirked as the sound of shattering glass filled the room. Beyond, I heard the chair bounce off the eves of the floor below and bounce across the lawn beneath.
Now that there was nothing stopping it, a soft breeze pushed through the gaping window and caressed my skin, bringing my shivers back. My anger faded and I dropped to my knees at the edge of the sprayed glass. At this point being cut was the least of my worries, and my tears flowed. I had no intention of shoving down the sobs I had been choking down for weeks anymore.
“Lottie?” Rowan asked meekly after a moment of silence.
I sniffled and sighed. “You say that you’re here for me, Rowan, but you aren’t hearing me,” my voice came out in whispered tones. “I feel like I’m drowning, I’m reaching out for you, but I feel like you’re miles away. You don’t understand how hard it is to want to communicate but not want to become a burden to everyone around you; to want to feel you against me, to touch me, but feel sickened at the same time. You don’t…I was going to tell you…and I couldn’t wait to see you shine as a father.” I said with a shaky breath. “We were going to have a baby, and I fucked that up too. It’s a constant war in my head, and I feel like ending it would make everything stop— for everyone.”
He didn’t respond, and I used his silence to spur me on. “Do you still love me?”
Still, he remained silent, and I began to wonder if he was even there anymore. I scoffed, but I heard him move closer to me and then his warm hand was on my shoulder in some sort of comforting embrace. His touch broke me, and I finally told him everything.
“Rowan, I’m so fucked up,” I cried, pushing past the lump in my throat. “I wasn’t supposed to like it, but my body turned on me. Whatever they gave me made me want it, they forced me to come while you were being tortured. You were alone and crying, and I was having an orgasm. I'm a monster.”
His gasp was almost inaudible, and he pulled me into his arms. I fought against him, placing my hands on his chest to try and push him away, feeling disgusted with myself. I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve his love or his comfort.
“Who am I, Roe?” I sobbed finally, giving up and relaxing into his embrace.
“Tell me what you need, Lottie,” He whispered into my hair. “I’m trying to help you, but I don’t know what you need. I can’t read your beautiful mind, and I need you to tell me how to make this better.”
“They need to pay for what they did,” I said as my tears subsided. “I wanted you to fuck me that night. Does that make me a bad person?”
Rowan peeled me away from his body and held my head in his large hands. His thumb traced my bottom lip as he stared at me, almost ravenously, as he shook his head.
“No, Charlotte. It makes you human. You craved affection after being abused, it makes you normal. You may not feel like it right now, but I promise you are not broken. And that loss was out of your control.”
I let him pull me to my feet, and he brushed glass out of my hair and from my knees. “Come, Charlotte. Let’s go to bed.”
The halls were silent despite the raucous of a shattering window, but I was grateful for it. The last thing I needed was for my men to see me being so vulnerable and how weak their new leader really was. Roe pulled me back into his room and shut the door behind us. It was closer, and I was too tired to complain.
I climbed under the covers and rolled to face away from him. His hand rested on my hip, rubbing small, comforting circles with his thumb; just letting me know he was there.
“Would you have fucked me, that night?” I asked, turning toward him, unsure if I wanted an answer.
“I don’t know, Lottie,” he said softly, and his words sounded almost pained. He didn’t seem to know the answer, himself.
I drifted off to sleep, hoping the next day would bring relief from the pain I'd internalized for so long.