The Determining (22 page)

“I actually have a lot of work to do for classes.” She stood and the brothers followed suit. “It was nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Logan reached out, shaking her hand. “Goodnight, Mrs. McLean.”

She clenched her fists at the title and pulled back from Logan.

Thayer shot her an apologetic look. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She nodded, retreating from the room. Although they were normal questions, Logan’s probing was unwelcome. She didn’t feel the need to reveal all her secrets, and the fact that he seemed to want to know them annoyed her. The sudden urge to march back into the kitchen and yell at him nagged her. She ignored it, trudging up the stairs.

The guestroom had its own bathroom, modeled to match the bedroom’s simple and modern décor. Charlie went straight there. She grabbed the bottle of pain pills next to the sink, taking one before stripping down and getting in the shower.

The hot water ran down her back, relieving her aching muscles. All her energy flowed out of her body and escaped down the drain with the water, leaving an empty ache behind. She wouldn’t cry again, not today. Taking a deep breath, she pushed aside her raw emotions and finished her shower without shedding a tear.

She slipped into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. She looked at herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Thayer had been right; the bruises were fading and her nose looked closer to its normal size. Spitting out her toothpaste, Charlie examined her split lip and the few cuts around her eyes. Those would be the hardest to cover, but if she continued healing at her current rate, she might be able to go back to classes before the end of the week.

Buoyed by this small improvement, she returned to the futon and her work. Pulling out her tablet, she started researching for her paper. None of the sites she visited had any information about her, Thayer, or their wedding. It was a relief to escape from the situation, even if the break was only momentary.

Eventually, Charlie heard Thayer ascending the stairs. He stopped outside her room and she paused, waiting for him to knock. Seconds passed before his footsteps continued down that hall.

She worked for a few more hours until her eyes grew too tired to continue. With a sigh, she powered down the tablet and turned the lights out. In the dark, she reached out to the empty side of the bed, thinking of Drew. If her father hadn’t interfered, would she be lying beside him now?

I never loved him.

The thought came out of nowhere. It brought with it waves of guilt. Wrapping her arms around herself, she fell into a fitful sleep.

A decaying door hanging by its rusted hinges beckoned to Charlie. Curiosity won over sense and she walked through the entry. As soon as she stood inside, the door slammed shut, plunging her into darkness.

Her heart hammered out of control as she fumbled to find the light. Before she found a switch, an orange glow illuminated the room. She wasn’t in the entryway anymore, but in an office. It took her a moment to recognize it as the Office of Interpersonal Determination.

The glow lighting the room came from fire crawling along the walls. It moved like a living creature stalking its prey. The flames devoured everything in its path, leaving an intricate design of black ash and glowing embers behind.

Movement caught her eye. Mr. Ross stood across the room, wearing a vacant expression. Shadows played on his face, making his eyes look hollow. His skin hung off his body like loose folds of fabric. Charlie took a step toward him and his eyes flicked to hers. The eyes she remembered as warm brown were now blood red and animalistic. Fear churned in her stomach.

“You’ve done this to yourself.” It wasn’t Mr. Ross’s voice but her father’s that hissed at her.

The flames traveled to the floor and licked at her from behind, pushing her closer and closer to him. She wanted to run, but the heat propelled her forward. When she stood within reach, he wound his arm back and hit her. Blood spurted from her nose, flowing down her face and staining her clothes. The warm, red liquid poured from her, pooling at her feet. She tried to stop the bleeding, but nothing stemmed the flow.

She needed to tell him that she didn’t do this. Everything that’d happened was her father’s fault. The burning walls and all the decay was his responsibility, not hers. But no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t make a sound.

“You will pay for this, Charlotte. No matter where you run, no matter what you do, we will find you.” Black smoke seeped from his pores, curling around him.

Mr. Ross’s body jerked. He opened his mouth in a silent scream. Smoke flew from his mouth in a torrent. A loud crack echoed through the room. His jaw ripped away from his head, falling to the burning floor. When all the smoke escaped, Mr. Ross’s body looked like nothing more than empty skin. It collapsed, leaving a pillar of black smoke behind.

Richard’s voice surrounded her. It deepened to something guttural and demonic. “You can’t run from us, Charlotte.”

The smoke shot out toward her, knocking her back into the flames. Fire crawled up her limbs, burning her flesh. Smoke surrounded her, cutting off her oxygen. She tried to take a breath, but when she opened her mouth the smoke shot inside her. She could feel it slipping down her throat. It expanded like it wanted to rip her apart. She was going to die.

Charlie jerked awake. She tried to gasp but choked on something in her mouth. Coughing, she leaned over, desperately searching for the light. She clicked the lamp on and froze.

Blood covered the bed.

Images from her nightmare rushed back. Mr. Ross’s eyes, the smoke, the flames, the blood pooling at her feet. Her half-asleep mind couldn’t distinguish the dream from reality. Before she could clamp her mouth shut, she let out a piercing scream.

She had to get away from the blood. Scrambling out of bed, she only managed to get twisted up in the sheets. She ended up in a heap on the floor. With a whimper, she untangled herself and crawled away from the crimson mess. She sat shaking in the corner. Her foggy mind tried to process what had happened as she rocked back and forth.

“Charlotte? Charlotte!” Thayer bellowed from the other side of the locked door. “Let me in!”

She tried to stand up but her legs were still weak with sleep. Moving made her head swim. Staying on the floor with her forehead resting on her knees, she breathed deeply in an attempt to calm herself.

With a startling crash, the door flew open. Thayer rushed in, his expression fierce and protective. Taking in the bloody bedding, his face paled. In seconds, he crouched in front of her.

“Charlotte, what happened? Where are you bleeding?” He reached out, examining her for a wound.

“It… it was a dream. But then I woke up and it was real. All the blood…” A shiver ran down her spine. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Finding no injury, Thayer sat back on his heels with a sigh of relief. “I think it was just a nose bleed. Not surprising, seeing that you broke it.” He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. “The way you screamed, I thought someone was killing you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. Now fully awake, all Charlie wanted to do was crawl into a hole somewhere and die. She felt like an idiot for waking him over a bad dream and a bloody nose.

“Don’t be.” He reached out, brushing her hair back so he could see her face. The feel of his fingers brushing her skin made her shiver. “Why don’t you get cleaned up?”

He helped her to her feet. She pulled away as soon as she had her balance. Dizziness still overwhelmed her, but she managed to make it to the bathroom without further assistance.

She washed her face and mouth. Her shirt had absorbed most of the blood, though a few pieces of her hair were tinted red on the ends. With a little water, she washed it from her hair.

A small trickle of red ran down onto her lip. Charlie grabbed a tissue, praying her nose wouldn’t start to gush again. She held it against her face for a minute before slowly moving it aside. Clean. She sighed in relief but kept the tissue in hand as she left the bathroom, just in case.

Thayer stood over the futon, pulling the bloody sheets off the bed and throwing them in a pile on the floor. He glanced up at her when she walked in the room, brows furrowed with unease. “Are you okay?”

For the first time, she noticed that he wore only a pair of plaid pajama pants. If his military training hadn’t been obvious before, it was now. She couldn’t help but note his broad shoulders and well-defined muscles. But what caught and held her attention was a long scar across his abdomen.

It couldn’t be a surgical scar. No surgeries left scars anymore. Decorative scars had become popular in recent years, but this one had no obvious design. It must have been from an injury, she reasoned. But why wouldn’t he have it removed?

She looked up at Thayer and flushed. His penetrating eyes watched her, waiting for some response.

“I’m fine.” Her breathless voice heightened the embarrassing blush in her cheeks. She wished he would leave. The situation was humiliating enough without him hanging around. Especially after he’d caught her gawking at him.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he turned away from her before it spread into a full grin. He walked over to the closet and shuffled around. He pulled out a set of clean sheets, placing them on the bed. The smile was gone, replaced by a neutral expression.

“I’ll make the bed while you change,” he offered, glancing at the blood decorating her shirt.

She crossed her arms, trying to hide the stains, and shifted from foot to foot. “You don’t have to clean up after me.”

He ignored her. “If you aren’t going to change, sit down.” He pointed to the desk chair.

Before she could protest, he disappeared into the bathroom. She heard the water run for a minute. He reappeared with a wet facecloth in hand.

He looked at her still standing and raised an eyebrow. “Sit.”

Charlie considered refusing, but she figured he would leave quicker if she complied. With a huff of protest, she walked over to the chair and settled in. He handed her the cold washcloth.

“Put that on your nose. It should help.” He waited for her to obey before returning to the bed.

Charlie closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool cloth on her sore nose. Her ears picked up the rustle of sheets. Listening to the sound, she tracked Thayer’s movements. The noise prevented her from relaxing. Her limbs were weighed down by a mixture of tension and exhaustion.

“Charlotte … ” Thayer murmured.

She opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her. Behind him, the bed was made and turned down. The clean sheets beckoned and her weary body longed to answer their call.

“Thank you.” She stood, removing the cloth.

He observed her for a few seconds before speaking. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

She nodded and the tension in her shoulders relaxed as he turned to go.

He paused at the door. “I’ll get that fixed tomorrow.” He looked at the doorframe. The piece near the lock had been completely torn from the wall. He turned, watching her.

Those piercing eyes traveled over her. She was surprised by the protectiveness she saw in them. Rather than making her uncomfortable, she felt safe. Goosebumps rose on her arms.

“Goodnight.” Thayer’s voice sounded thick when he spoke.

“Goodnight,” Charlie whispered.

Without another word or glance, he disappeared down the hall.

“We’ve tracked her chip to McLean’s apartment. Should I send a team in to collect her, Councilman?” James’ voice echoed from the small black phone on the desk.

Richard ignored the question. The tablet on the desk held him captive. On the screen, Charlotte stood next to that man, exchanging their vows. He watched as the two shared a brief kiss. His rage compounded, growing stronger every time the clip played.

An extraction team can’t fix this. You fucked up.
The ever-present voice in Richard’s head taunted him.

Richard’s jaw clenched. The voice was right. Grey Technology couldn’t handle the negative press. Not with the launch of their new program just around the corner.

“Councilman?” His head of security, James, spoke again.

“We can’t extract her now,” Richard growled. “Send a team to monitor the building. Notify me the moment she leaves.” As an afterthought, he added, “If your men have a chance to take her unseen, do it.”

“Yes, sir.” The call ended with a click.

Leaning back in his chair, Richard took stock of everything that had happened. The moment he’d learned she’d gone back to the Office of Interpersonal Determination, rage took over. The only thing he could remember after that call was the sick crunching sound as his fists made contact with her face and the pleasure her pain caused him.

He would have killed her if not for that boy’s interference. The damn coward took Richard by surprise, the only reason the boy managed to overpower him. Richard walked away with a black eye, a fat lip, a screaming headache, and a bruised ego. Thinking about it, a red haze blurred his vision.

Unable to stop himself, Richard pressed a button on the tablet and the video of Charlotte’s wedding played again. He noted her swaying on her feet, her hand clinging to McLean’s, the quick kiss they shared. Bile rose in his throat.

Watching the apartment won’t fix anything.

The words made Richard’s body tense and his hands shake. “We’ll get her back.”

The voice cackled.
You’re a fool if you thi
—

“Charlotte won’t come home.” Margaret interrupted the voice. He glanced up. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “Not of her own free will.”

A hiss echoed in Richard’s head. He twitched, trying to banish it and failing. “Did you expect she would?”

She walked into the room, taking the empty seat across from his desk with a huff. “I thought she might come to terms with the marriage over time. But you’ve destroyed any chance of that happening.” Her fingers tapped against her knee as she glared at him, shooting a pointed look at his swollen hands.