Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
When I went downstairs the morning after the guys stayed the night, I found my suitcase and everything else I had left at Roe and Wyatt’s on my doorstep.
It felt like a goodbye. After replaying everything that had been said, I understood.
Why bother wasting your time with someone who belonged to another?
Why get caught up in my problems when they couldn’t do anything to help?
They had cut their losses, and I didn’t blame them one bit.
When they didn’t call or text, I knew that what I had assumed was true.
The week flew by quickly. I still avoided lunch by hiding in the library. Lemon recommended me a book similar to the previous one I had read, but I was having a hard time getting into it. I avoided Ms. Clark and my drawing class, too. I would just leave school early and go get coffee.
It was now Friday, and I was staring out the window from where I sat in the café. It was the same table where Roe and Wyatt had sat with me. I was staring at a brave cat sitting on top of someone’s car. It was licking its orange-and-white paw like it didn’t have a care in the world.
I was in such a state of self-pity that I envied that cat.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” a deep voice asked.
I turned my head to find Bram standing next to my table. Just like Roe had. He wasn’t in his cut. He was wearing a nice navy polo shirt with a small Kane’s Motors logo above the left breast pocket and a nice pair of jeans.
Does my biological father own that business?
Roe’s dad owned a bar that the club obviously frequented. Bram was a Haven’s Rebel. It made sense that he’d be employed by another Haven’s Rebel.
“I skipped my last class,” I told him.
“Why did you do that?”
“I had a disagreement with my teacher over something,” I answered vaguely.
“Is that why you look so upset?”
That stunned me. I hadn’t realized I was letting so much show. “How embarrassing. I think every time I run into you, I’m having a bad day.”
“Do you need to talk about it?” he asked.
I stared back out the window. “I think I’ve talked too much lately.
” I’d spoken so much in the past few weeks, I’d forgotten the reason I’d barely spoken before.
Fewer words meant fewer lies. Less truth, less hurt.
There were so many things I had to reteach myself to be as disciplined as I had been.
“Why do you say that?” His voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I shrugged and looked up at him. I eyed the logo on his shirt. “Do you like where you work?”
He glanced down at the logo briefly. “Yeah. We sell motorcycles and gear. It does well.”
“Is…” I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I was curious. “Do you like your boss?”
He frowned at that. “What do you mean?”
“Does he seem like a good man?” I asked, terrified of any answer he’d give. Clearly I was in the mood to kick myself while I was down.
He stared at his coffee in his hand. “He’s not perfect, but he tries very hard to be. Every day.”
I bit my lip as I tried not to cry. It didn’t work. Before I embarrassed myself more in front of him, I stood and collected my phone and keys. “It was nice talking to you, Bram.” I abandoned my barely touched coffee on the table and headed for the door.
“Charlotte,” Bram said, following me out. “Charlotte, wait.”
“I have to go!” I shot over my shoulder and didn’t stop walking until I got to my car.
There was a very nice—very expensive gray Bentley parked in front of my house when I pulled up. After I parked and walked around front to see who it was, my stomach sank.
Mrs. Carmichael got out of her car. She was dressed in a light purple, cap-sleeved summer dress that fell past her knees. Her white peep-toe heels clacked on the stone driveway as she walked around her car to approach me.
“Hello, Charlotte,” she greeted with a practiced bullshit smile.
“Hello, Mrs. Carmichael,” I greeted back with my own BS smile. “If you’re here to see my mother, I’m afraid she’s out of town.”
“I’m not here to see her, dear. I’m here to see you.” She gestured to the house. “I think we should head in. There are some things we need to discuss.”
That was the last thing I wanted to do, but I plastered a smile onto my face anyway. “Of course.”
She followed me inside and I led her to the living room, which was past Mother’s study. Prue walked into the living room just as we sat down. She looked from me to Sharon Carmichael. “Would you like some refreshments?”
“That would be lovely,” Sharon said, and I nodded to Prue.
As Prue left, Sharon glanced around the room. “Your mother has fascinating taste.”
The living room was nearly all white except for the pops of color from expensive art on the walls or the gaudy iron sculpture of a naked woman in the corner of the room.
The couch, tile, walls, and coffee table were all white just so anyone who came into the room would see and envy the expensive shit Bethany Kendry owned.
“May I ask what it is you want to speak to me about?” I asked.
“It’s impolite to not wait for refreshments,” she chastised.
I sat up straighter. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”
Her words put me on edge.
We sat in silence until Prue arrived with a tea set on a tray. I didn’t like tea, so my cup was prefilled with hot water and a slice of lemon.
Sharon picked up a teacup and saucer, took a tiny sip, then set her cup back down and added two cubes of sugar. She eyed my untouched teacup as she picked up one of the tiny spoons on the tray and started stirring her tea. “You don’t drink tea?”
“I don’t care for the taste.”
“I’m sure you can find one to learn to like,” she commented before taking another sip from her cup. Seeming pleased with the taste now, she set the cup back on the saucer and held it in her lap. “My Brandon tells me you haven’t been paying much attention to him.”
I didn’t bother giving her an excuse, not that she waited to hear one.
“He also said that you yelled and hit him for no reason at all.”
“He didn’t respect my request to take things slow physically,” I said.
She took another sip of her tea and sighed.
Not out of delight for a good-tasting tea, but because she was annoyed.
“You need to understand that as women, we must make certain sacrifices. Men have needs. My Brandon has needs, and as the woman who will one day be his wife, you need to give him what he needs.”
“And if I don’t?” my rebel side asked before I could stop her.
Sharon looked around the room at all the art. “Your mother has expensive taste for someone who’s running out of money.”
What?
“I would hate to have to tell her that the twenty million she’s expecting from this union won’t be coming because of her defiant daughter.”
My ears rang over and over with her words. “You’re paying my mother twenty million for me to marry your son?”
She just smiled. “How upset do you think she’d be if she knew you cost her that much money?”
I knew exactly how upset she’d be. What I wanted to know was how Sharon knew how Mother would react.
Her smile turned cunning and downright evil before she took another sip of her tea.
“Brandon is having a party tonight after his game.” She set her cup and saucer down on the tray before standing.
“I expect you to be there to celebrate with him, and of course, make sure he has a wonderful time.” She smoothed away the nonexistent wrinkles in her dress.
“If you’re not there…well, I guess I’ll need to make a phone call. I’ll show myself out.”
The clack of her heels on the tile floor echoed through the house until the front door shut behind her.
I couldn’t move even after she left. I felt like if I did, I’d crumble into a million pieces. Probably twenty million pieces.
Prue came in and collected the tray. She spared me one glance before leaving to take it back to the kitchen.
Get up.
Get up and start getting ready.
I couldn’t convince myself. I just couldn’t.
I was in hell and there wasn’t a way out.
Prue came into the room again and sat on the coffee table in front of me. She took my hand in hers. “You have options.”
That got me moving. I pulled my hand away. “Even if I found my biological father, there is no guarantee he’d want me or want to help me. If I run to him, Mother will find me and have Clay drag me back.”
“Then you call the police,” she said.
I started rubbing my temples. “Do you not remember when Tommy, our last gardener, called the police because he saw her through the window choking me with her bathrobe sash? The police came, saw the marks on my neck, and did nothing. She paid them off and Tommy moved out of the state.”
“You were fourteen then. You’re an adult now.”
“Fourteen or eighteen, it doesn’t matter. I’m her property and she’s selling me for twenty million dollars. The only way I can escape any of this is if I’m dead.” My anger gave me the strength to get up from the couch.
“Please listen. Please,” she begged as she grabbed my hand again. “You need to meet with JJ. He will help you fight her. Just get through the weekend and meet with him on Monday. Please.”
“What makes you so sure? If he can help me, where has he been all this time?”
“He can answer all that for you. Just please meet with him on Monday,” she begged.
I didn’t believe her, but I nodded just to get her to let me go. She released my hand, and I headed upstairs to start getting ready.