Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Lillian
I keep my head down, looking at my feet make slow progress down the sidewalk. There’s a polite mask on my face, and that’s what must keep the questions coming. Three men with cameras keep pace with me, pressuring me to say something, anything, undeterred by my silence. I already told them where I was heading. Charlie’s team said it was fine to make small talk, but letting them keep me in one spot all day wasn’t going to benefit the campaign further.
“Let’s see your ring again! Can you pose?”
I fight off the urge to roll my eyes. Maintaining a public face has never been hard for me, but I haven’t been challenged like this. It’s difficult to cover up annoyance—plus the fact that I despise these vultures.
Charlie picked out a flashy ring for me, so they’ve assumed I’m vain, and I’ve unfortunately had to play into that. Charlie’s fiancé has an image to maintain. No direct words have reached me, just deafening actions.
I woke up after Emerald—mortified, by the way—to a headache and a pounding on the door. A wardrobe was delivered without any warning, everything in my size. There’s no room for it in our little apartment. For now, dresses, blouses, and complementary heels are strewn around the living room while Amber makes progress on throwing away the clothes that are no longer good enough for me.
They served me fine all these years.
Amber called out the names of designers I’ve never thought twice about and ran her hands over clothes too expensive to even try on. She was all awe without a hint of envy.
I can’t bring myself to stop her from trashing the life I cobbled together.
And I’m powerless to stop myself from being swallowed whole by the life Charlie offers me.
Aren’t I?
Already, he’s fitting me into a routine. I’m just coming back from having my nails done. When I got there, I was overwhelmed by the nail shapes and colors. The woman who did my manicure didn’t ask me any questions, though—she already had the order: short, light pink almonds. My next appointment is in two weeks.
I wanted to be surprised or protest, maybe pick a different color at least. But this is what I signed up for. Charlie’s control will keep encroaching into all areas of my life until I’m able to fulfill my role perfectly.
When I’m away from him, I don’t mind too much. The nails he chose flatter me. The wardrobe he chose flatters me—and it was fun mixing and matching pieces together this morning. I decided to style around a long white A-line skirt dotted in little strawberries, mostly because it was simple to do. A pair of white wedge heels and a green off-the-shoulder top complete the outfit. I’ve felt so cute all day. But underneath it all, there’s a tight feeling in my gut. I don’t know when I’ll see Charlie again, and I don’t know why that makes me feel…
Feel what?
I’d like to know, but at the same time, I keep thoughts of Charlie as far away as I can. Annoying thoughts surface at just picturing him briefly.
I think about him touching me, almost making me come at the restaurant.
A quick burst of shutters startles me out of my thoughts.
Fuck!
What kind of expression was I making as I thought about Charlie?
I take a deep breath. Well, whatever. This is good timing, anyway. Looks like I’ve arrived in no time to meet Amber, though I know I’ve kept her waiting. I swallow my guilt down and head into Aroluxx, grateful for the cool shield of darkness its interior provides. Those guys won’t follow me in here.
I’ll just have to hope I won’t be recognized.
I come to a halt just past the door and look around, feeling like I belong in such a place for once. I might not feel comfortable buying their expensive coffee treats, but at least I look like I would. It’s immaculately clean here without smelling like chemicals. There’s just the scent of bread and brewing coffee wafting about, beckoning you toward the counter, where someone stands waiting and beaming.
I avoid eye contact with everyone as I scan the burgundy and brown interior for my sister. A brown ponytail catches my attention, then my stomach sours. The familiar shape of a man is hovering at her table, a little too close to her side of the booth, like he wants to sit down, like he’s giving her the option to either scoot over or get sat on.
The sounds of the cafe fade away. I feel the mask slip from my face, the carefully practiced human expression that tells everyone I’m harmless.
I feel it again, racing through my body, intoxicating and directing my actions, paralyzing my thoughts: biting rage that sets my teeth on edge and primes my entire being for a fight.
I’m storming through the cafe toward them. All I can think about is what would happen if I weren’t here, didn’t have plans with her? What if they weren’t in public? What if he slipped something into her drink?
And then I’m thinking of sinking my nails into his neck and ripping away flesh.
“Are you sure? You look a little lonely.”
I hear his hushed coaxing as I get closer. It makes my blood boil and my feet move faster. The scents of the cafe are sharper. I can smell his shitty cologne. I’m biting painfully into my lip, trying to decide where I’ll direct the violence. I’m almost there. My hand is reaching out.
Aim for the eyes. Fucking gouge them out.
Then Amber, looking around uncomfortably for help, spots me.
“Lillian! There you are!” Amber calls, relieved. Her voice stops me in my tracks, my hand frozen in place. “See, I was waiting for my sister. So, if you don’t mind…” she explains to him, gesturing at me.
With her wide eyes on me like a spotlight, the violence leaks out of my hand, and I drop it heavily on his shoulder instead. I apply pressure and turn him away from her, moving myself between them as I forcibly relocate him.
“Lou,” I say shortly, firmly. “Does your grandma know you’re pressuring high school girls now? Maybe she should.” I pull out my phone, my eyes fixed to his huge, stupid head.
“You?” is all he can manage. His face turns red at the mention of Anne, but from the dim look in his eyes, I can tell he can only faintly place me.
“You really should have taken those tutoring sessions seriously. I don’t think your grandma can save the damage you’re doing to your grades. Worse still is the apparent atrophy of your brain. Sorry, you don’t know that word, do you?”
“Lillian!” Amber hisses behind me. She grips my arm, and I can feel her nervous energy.
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t know what I’m saying.”
Lou’s face turns into a beet as he simmers, so angry he can’t speak. His hands clench, and he steps closer to me, looking down into my face.
“What did you fucking say to me?” he whispers.
“You look like you want to hit me, Lou,” I whisper back.
And I want him to.
I want him to give me a reason.
“Lillian, people are looking,” Amber says in a rush, but I can’t make sense of what she’s saying. The violence is back and feels like it’s vibrating beneath my skin as I stare into Lou’s eyes, which are hard threats now. I know he’s much stronger than me.
I also know I’d do it.
I’d fucking?—
“Lillian, who’s your friend?”
A voice slices through the tension, too light for the circumstances, so breezy and informal that it cuts the connection between Lou and me cleanly. Our attention breaks away from each other, and we look at the man addressing us. Everyone in the cafe is looking at him, too.
“M-Mr. Carter!” Lou exclaims. He’s a child caught as he looks back at Amber and me, then to Charlie, as if he could possibly explain why he was squared up with his fiancé.
“Call me Charlie. Lou, right? You’re Anne’s grandson?” Charlie is pure congeniality. It’s unraveling the oaf by my side.
And me, too.
Charlie has this way of faking and making it. The kindness reaches his eyes, but deep down, Lou and I both know.
We’re in deep shit.
“Mr. Carter, this is a misunderstanding. I-I was just talking to Lily,” Lou starts to explain quietly.
Come on, get my name right, at least!
Amber squeezes my arm, but I can’t look back at her. I’m staring at Charlie, who hasn’t spared me so much as a glance.
“Y-yeah, we were just—” I try to back Lou up, but Charlie cuts me off.
“Where’s the misunderstanding?” he asks with a laugh. We nervously laugh with him, then shoot each other disarming glances. Yeah, we really stepped in it this time. “Anne was looking for you, actually!”
“She was?” Lou asks, unconvinced.
“Yeah, you should go with Tommy. He’s on the way back to the team.” Charlie cocks his head toward his hulking bodyguard, who nods toward the cafe’s exit. Lou pales, but he can’t get out of this. “Maybe I’ll see you later, huh? I can offer you a job on the campaign trail.”
“Haha, yeah…” Lou agrees, preoccupied with Tommy, who starts walking away. Lou swallows and follows after a last glance at Amber and me.
I try to wipe my expression of the fear we both share.
“Sorry, Sis! My shift is starting,” Amber says as she squeezes past me. I want to cling to her arm, but people are still shooting us furtive glances. “Charlie, it’s nice to see you again!” She smiles widely at him, masking that this is their first meeting.
“Always a pleasure, Amber.” Charlie picks it up without missing a beat. Then he looks at me. My knees almost buckle.
He’s pissed.
“When did Amber get a job here?” he asks lightly, hands in his pockets.
“Ah, um, you know, she’s been working here a while. I told you a few months ago, haha.” I can’t help speaking woodenly, so I lower my voice.
“Yeah? You should show me around.”
“Here? It’s just a typical cafe!” I gesture around the room and laugh nervously.
“I’m sure that’s not true. Now that you mention it, I do remember you telling me about their variety of ethically sourced coffee beans. Amber showed you, right? I want to see.”
Before I can protest, he wraps his fingers around my elbow and steers me in front of him, toward where Amber headed. Now that he’s established the scene, I have to play along. So I stride confidently to the back of the cafe like I belong there and lead us down a hallway. We walk past the bathrooms on the left and artsy pictures of coffee beans and fields. Up ahead on the right is the employee entrance. I expect a server to pop out and take control of a situation that is wildly out of my hands, but no one comes. There’s another door straight ahead marked “employees only.”
“Uhm,” I start, now that it’s just us two. I slow, but Charlie’s chest is soon a firm weight against my back, propelling me forward. I stumble and keep walking to the door at the end of the hallway. When we get there, Charlie reaches out from behind me to open it.
“You said it was here, right?” he asks softly, announcing us. When no one else speaks up, he quickly shoves me into the dark room. The soft hallway lighting briefly illuminates the space, and I can see supplies lining the walls of the medium room—cups, packages of napkins, etc.—before the door shuts.
Dread seizes me.
I turn around to pat the wall for a switch, but Charlie’s chest is in my face, his body a hard wall stopping my progress. His hands grip my upper arms painfully, and I feel his head dip down to find my face. Our cheeks brush, and he gives me a rough shake.
“I caught you.”
His low whisper rasps into my ear, making my body come alive. The steel in his tone makes me shudder, and my mind whirls. He’s mad at me, and here, in the dark, I’m completely at his mercy.
“What did you think you were doing, Lillian?” Charlie’s hands slide down my arms to seize my wrists. I try to twist out of his grip, but he holds me tighter and pins them behind my back. “Causing a scene in public with another man?”
I think about Amber in that situation. No matter what, I wouldn’t have done anything differently. In that moment, his campaign meant nothing to me. But it’s not like I can tell him that or even explain. He wouldn’t understand.
No one would.
Trapping me here, pinning my wrists behind my back with one hand while the other travels down the front of my skirt, Charlie wants only one thing.
It’ll be easier to give him that.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Charlie. I wasn’t thinking,” I say as quietly as I can, remembering how close the storage room is to the customer bathrooms. But even if we escape their detection, an employee can still walk in at any moment.
This needs to be over with, fast.
“Charlie, can we?—”
“I know you’re sorry, Lillian.” He starts to pull up and gather my skirt in his fist. I feel it inching up, exposing my legs. “If I weren’t here to intervene, what would have happened? Did you think about that?”
“No,” I relent, stiffening as his fingertips continue grazing up my thighs and his breath calls goosebumps along my neck. My body is reacting, but I’m very much over this little game. I’m not in the mood to play.
As if sensing that, Charlie freezes.
Shit.
Maybe I answered a little too flatly.
“You want to ruin my efforts? You don’t care what happens?” My head snaps back as a sudden sharp pain lances through my scalp, and I gasp. Charlie has a fistful of my hair. “I’ve got your attention now, don’t I?” His lips are moving against my ear, feeding his words there so no one can catch a hint of him.
“Ch-Charlie!” I whimper.
He releases me only to renew his charge, his hand jerking up my shirt and bra in one quick motion. Then his mouth is on me, his wet, hot tongue swirling around my nipple hungrily. It’s an assault I’ve never felt, and I gasp again, then quickly shove a fist into my mouth.
His teeth bite into me as his arms wrap around my torso, hugging me to his face as he feeds on me like an animal. I grit down a cry and take the pain.
“You’re the one who will be humiliated. I’ll ruin you before you can thoughtlessly ruin my campaign,” he breathes into my ear. I’m leaning away from him but painfully aware of the glimpse I caught of broomsticks propped against the shelves. I don’t know exactly where anything is, and if we cause a ruckus in here, an employee will come, see me exposed like this.
Charlie’s hand plunges beneath my skirt to rip my panties down. I squirm in his grip, pushing on his shoulders, but he’s latched to my other breast, suckling hard, attacking my sensitive nipple like a brute.
I can’t help it. I have to wrap my hands around his head to keep myself steady, pinning him to my chest. His tongue thrashes quickly as his fingers find my slick clit. He massages me roughly. I twitch my hips away from him. I’m desperately trying to swallow down moans.
“Charlie, please — !” I bury my face close to his ear, clinging to him fiercely as he sucks and bites. “Don’t!” I’m panting now, taking shuddering breaths as quietly as I can, horrified at every high-pitched whimper that breaks through my lips.
What if Amber finds us?
I continue to beg as my hips tremble. He responds with a grunt, releasing my breast to bite savagely into my ribs. I toss my head back, riding out the pain, and then I feel his fingers stabbing into me.
“W-Wait, what?—!!”
His long fingers plunge in and curve, finding a hot spot I’d never touched before. It electrifies me—and he hammers two fingers against it, hard, finding my nipple again.
“Gg—!!”
Charlie laps at my stiff peak as my hips hump along with the pace of his fingers. I can’t help myself. I bury my face back against his neck, holding him tightly to me, and try to conceal my moans against him.
“Ch-Charlie, please?—”
I feel something starting to build. I run my fingers through his hair, caressing, encouraging.
“Please—”
I shamelessly work against him, letting him fingerfuck my greedy hole. The feeling is rising, building. The sloppy wet sounds of my pussy are going to give us away.
“Please don’t stop, Charlie!”
He bites into my breast so hard I think I’ll scream. I tug at his hair, tight, tighter, as my body seizes and a wave of pleasure finally crashes into my body. My hips jerk hard, and Charlie doesn’t relent as I gasp and pant into his shoulder. He forces every last bit of pleasure from my orgasm, trying to make me cry out, but I don’t, not beyond the stifled mewls.
When he finally slows, my heart is thundering in my chest, and my legs feel weak. Charlie slips his slick fingers out of me and straightens, but I’m a doll clinging weakly to him, trying to catch my breath. He steadies me and lets me hold on as I hide my face against his chest.
“Well done,” he drawls.
Some warm feeling washes over me with his words.
I don’t want to let go.