Shatter Me (2 page)

             
He stops at a red light several blocks from the hotel where the Christmas
Gala
i
s and I place my hand on his over the gear shifter. His big warm hand turns over and clasps my much colder one. “We will get over this.” He promises fiercely and I smile ever so slightly, wanting to believe him, but knowing that I will never recover.

             
There is the sudden blinding light from the head lights of a big SUV from behind us and I crane m
y
head ever so slightly.
The driver isn’t slowing down for the red light!
I gasp in dismay half a second before the tank like vehicle hits us going well over t
he speed limit on snow covered roads.

             
I
am
jolted forward, realizing a split second before we are pushed into oncoming traffic that I should have put on my seatbelt. But there is no time as we are hit again from the passenger side and I feel the tearing pain of glass as I get thrown through the windshield.

             
I lay there broken, bleeding and cold, frowning up
into
the snow filled
night
. And as unconsciousness descends on me all I can thinks is…
Now maybe this pain in my heart will go away.


      
 

I hurt all over.

My head feels as if someone is beating it with a hammer. My chest feels hurts to the point that I can’t be sure if I am actually breathing.
Tiny pains across my entire body makes
me feel as if I am being stung repeatedly.

There is a constant Beep…Beep...Beeping that is annoying me and I want it to stop.
It is only making the pain in my head worse.
I can’t open my eyes to see where the noise is coming from and I can’t speak to ask someone to turn it off.

Please, someone turn it off! I
plead in my mind.


      
 

Someone is weeping.
I feel the wetness of their tears on my skin.

Someone is sobbing. Warm
,
trembling hands touch my cold one
s
. My heart
aches from the
terrible sound
s
—
such gut wrenching sounds!
—coming from the person crying. I can’t be sure if it is male or female, because it sounds as if I am in a tunnel. All sounds are distorted
. I know it is someone I love.
Someone who loves me.
I want to hold them. I can’t move…


      
 

Someone is shouting.
There is hate in the voice
.
I shudder, wanting the loud voice to stop.
Please! Please don’t be angry!
I silently beg
.

The Beep…Beep…Beeping is getting louder, faster; more insistent.
Someone screams.
More loud voices, but at least the shouting has stopped.
My chest hurts. And then the Beep…Beep…Beeping is no more
…

             
I glare
over
at my mother. “I don’t want to spend the summer with you and your new husband. Why can’t I stay with Daddy?”

             
“Because your father is going to be in Dubai all summer and it isn’t a place for you.” Mindy Brandon Winthrop
tells
me as she push
es
me into the back of the limo.

             
I roll my golden eyes at the still beautiful woman that is my mother but say nothing as the driver shuts the door behind her and soon pulls away from the
private
loading area of JFK. I have been away at boarding school in Paris for the last nine months and while glad to see the gorgeous creature that brought me into this world I would have much rather have been in the desert with my father.

             
Mindy, with her perfectly colored and highlighted blond hair pulled back into a
perfect
ponytail, turns to face me in the seat as we make the long trip out of the city toward my newest step-father’s estate. My mother, as much as I love and adore her, is a serial trophy wife. She loves to get married and just as quickly divorce the poor sap that has been sucker enough to have put his expensive ring on her dainty finger.

             
But I also kn
o
w that her new husband was not the run of the mill rich sucker. Charles Winthrop had more money than the Nation had debt. He had his Midas touch in every business v
enture with
shipping, timber, aviation
,
and banking
just to name a few
. At fifty eight he was still incredibly good looking, or so I have noticed from the gossip magazines that I had seen with his and my mother’s pictures in them over the last few weeks.
Silver laced dark hair with a strong jaw and eyes as blue as a summer sky. He had appeared in incredible shape from the picture that had been on one of the more refutable magazines of Charles and Mindy on their honeymoon.
Damn
, not many men hitting close to sixty still had hard abs and
well tone
d
biceps.

             
Sure my father was still in great shape, but m
y father was only thirty seven and a freak when it came to his daily trip
s
to the gym.

             
“So how was school?” Mindy raise
s
a brow when I just shrug my shoulders. “What? You and Bianca didn’t do anything interesting since I last saw you in March?” She snorted when I just grin.
“Thought so.
How is the pixie princess?”

             
“Mother!
Stop calling her that. She’s my best friend. And you know how she hates to be reminded of her Tinker Bell likeness.” But I grin nonetheless. “Bee is spending the first part of the summer with her parents in Greece. But she will be back in plenty of time for us to go apartment hunting. I want something close to NYU.”

             
Mindy rolls her own golden eyes. “You could go to Harvard or Yale. Even Princeton if you wanted to.
But because Bianca only got into NYU that is where you want to go too.”

             
“Mother.”
I sigh. “We have discussed this already. I refuse to get into yet another argument with you over it.”

             
“Fine.”
She pouts like a
fifteen year old when she is well into her thirties. “But don’t say I didn’t try. You won’t always want Bianca Carrington around.”

             
“Well for now I do. So change the subject or stop talking to me.”

             
Mindy makes
a
humph
noise and turns to glare out of her window. I grin and pull out my cell phone. There is a message from my father wanting to know if I have arrived yet. I quickly text him back, because I know that he is busy
and worried about me
. Almost immediately he sends me a return text.
Have a good summer. Love you
!

             
“Charles is really excited to meet you.” My mother has recovered from her pout and is ready to talk to me once more. “
And his sons are so dreamy. If I were a few years younger I might have been tempted to go after the oldest one. But you know how I favor older men.”

             
Yes, I d
o
know. In fact her last husband had been several years older than Charles Winthrop. And if this husband was anything like the last one then I was going to hop on the first flight out to Dubai and tell my mother what she could do with her dirty older men!

             
But I don’t tell her any of that as we continue our trip. We keep up an easy flow of conversation. Most of which is about school, my new step-brothers and the party that Mindy is going to be having in a few weeks. My mother loves to throw a good party.

             
Finally we arrive at the Winthrop estate and I get my first real look at the place. The drive up to the house is two miles and the house is as big as a hotel, all grey stoned and old money elegance. It is so incredibly beautiful that I don’t take in anything else at first. But after a few moments I notice the stables in the distance, and the small man-made lake further off.

             
The chauffeur pulls to a stop in front of the house and rushes to open my door. I offer him a small smile as I let him help me out. “Thank you.” He inclines his head but is otherwise stiffly formal.

             
My mother is already out on the other side and in the arms of her new husband. I take my time moving around the side of the car. When Mindy pulls back from Charles at last they are both wearing ‘
take me now
’ expressions and I have to force myself not to make a gaging noise.

             
Charles is giving me a once over, but in more of a father like way rather than the way Mindy’s last husband use to do. I let out a small relieved sigh. Thank goodness she didn’t marry another dirty old man!

             
“So this is Kari!” Charles grins and offers me his hand. He has big, long fingered hands I notice as I put mine in his. “It is wonderful to finally meet my lovely step-daughter.”

             
I smile, because it is hard not smile at Charles. He might
b
e a shark in the business world but he appeared to be quite charming and good natured in private.
“So you must be Charlie.”

             
His brow wrinkle
s
for half a second before he thr
ows
his head back and roar
s
with laughter. “Sunshine, no one has called me Charlie since I was in grade school…But you…Yeah, I’ll let you.”

             
I shrug my shoulders. “Wouldn’t have mattered if you did or not.” I wink at him as I follow my mother up the steps and into the house while he and the driver work on getting my many bags inside.

             
“I see it is going to be a fun filled summer already.” He chuckle
s
.

             
“Fun’s my middle name, Charlie.” I call over my shoulder. “Didn’t my mother explain that?”

             
He was still chuckling as I step into the foyer
and catch my breath. The place was just…WOW! I
take in the long winding stair
case that leads up to the vast landing of the second floor, dark cherry wood that is gleaming. Black and white tile is under my feet, and in a checker board pattern that I favor immediately. The tiles lead down a hallway that has several doors on either side.

             
I follow my mother and we end up in a huge entertainment room. A sixty inch flat screen is hanging on the far wall
where
several sofas and loves seats are
placed
before it facing each other. A large coffee table
sits
between them. I drop down onto a sofa opposite my mother and toss my long
,
naturally
blond hair over my shoulder.

             
“How about some refreshments, darling?
Then I will show you up to your room.”

             
I nod, feeling thirsty and tired and ready for an early night. “Lemonade please,
M
other.
If it isn’t too much trouble for anyone.”

             
“O
f course.
Anything that you want,
my love.”
She leaves
me long enough to order refreshments and I sit back and close my eyes.

             
“Well, I see the dreaded step-sister has arrived.” A deep amused voice murmurs near my ear and I jerk.

             
I open my eyes to find a tall blond, devastatingly handsome man standing behind me. He is bent over so that he can inspect me better from his angle. His blue eyes, like his fathers
, are lit
up with humor and I instantly know that I am going to like my new step-brother. Raising a blond brow at him I slowly get to my feet. “Ah, I see the dreaded step-brother has come to welcome me home.”

             
He bows his handsome head.
“At your service.”

             
“So…You must be…” I think back trying to remember the names my mother told me. “Hunter?” I am rewarded with a delighted smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Hunter.”