The Determining (3 page)

“I won’t do this. It’s my life!” Charlie turned to leave but stopped when Richard flew out of his chair, grasping her wrist and squeezing it.

“This is a binding contract, Charlotte. A contract that
you
signed. You have already agreed to this.” The alcohol on his breath made her gag.

Her heart pulsed a frantic rhythm, but she put on a calm façade as she faced him. “I may not have a choice in my future education, but I sure as hell get to choose what I do with it. I still have that freedom. You can rest assured that I won’t ever take over for you.”

In an instant, Charlie knew she’d crossed the line. Richard’s eyes darkened and his breathing became shallow. She saw his hand before she felt it. The force behind the blow knocked her off balance, landing her on the ground at his feet. Her own hand flew to her injured cheek. Sticky blood moistened her fingers where Richard’s ring had cut into her soft flesh. She stayed on the floor, looking up at her father. He stared back at her with no sign of regret. Behind him, Margret stood white-faced and open-mouthed.

“Obedience, Charlotte.” He poured himself another glass of whisky before stepping over her as he left the room.

“Not that one, it does nothing for your figure. Honestly, I wish you would consider some enhancements.” Margaret’s critical eyes examined Charlie’s offending small chest. “They would increase your chances of catching someone’s eye at the party.”

Charlie winced at the criticism. “I caught Drew’s eye without surgical help.”

“I know, dear.” Margaret waved her hand like she was shooing a pesky fly out of her face. “Try on the black one with the sweetheart neckline next.”

Charlie bit back a sharp retort. Stepping down from the pedestal, she headed back to the dressing room. She peeled off the skintight red dress her mother had selected. The urge to throw the garment on the ground and kick it was tempting. “How many more do I have to try on?” she called through the door.

“As many as it takes.” Margaret’s muffled response destroyed any hope Charlie harbored of escaping. A headache had crept up behind her eyes ten dresses ago. Now it morphed into a pulsing throb that threatened to explode into a full-force migraine at the slightest provocation. She rubbed her eyes, wincing when her hand accidently brushed the cheek her father had backhanded.

Charlie studied herself in the mirror. She still couldn’t believe Richard had hit her. He’d always taken his anger out on her verbally. Now a bruise colored her cheek, and a red cut marred her otherwise flawless ivory skin. She’d done the best she could to cover the discolored skin, but there was nothing more she could do for the scab. Concealer and powder caught in the rough skin, highlighting the line jutting across her cheek. She traced the wound with her fingertip, finding it apropos that the ring that caused the injury marked her father as a member of the ruling Council.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Do you need help?” Margaret called.

“No, I’m coming.” Charlie grabbed the first black dress she saw. She threw it on unceremoniously, emerging seconds later.

Before she made it to the mirrors, Margaret stopped her. “That’s not the one I wanted to see.” She scolded her like a child. “Go back and put on the one I asked for.”

Charlie shook her head in frustration. This was the last thing she needed today. She didn’t want a dress for the party. She’d consented to the shopping trip to appease Margaret. She longed for the moment of peace this trip would reward her with, but couldn’t help thinking that it came at too high a price.

“I need a break,” Charlie declared, pushing past Margaret. Heads turned and eyes followed her as she stomped through the rows of designer dresses toward the front of the store.

She’d almost made her escape when a petite sales girl rushed up to her. “Miss? Um… miss?”

“What?” Charlie snapped.

The poor thing looked petrified. “I can’t let you leave while wearing the merchandise.”

Charlie glanced down at the dress, flushing with embarrassment. “Of course.” She headed back to the dressing room but paused as a dress on a nearby rack caught her eye. “Could you bring that one to my fitting room?” She glanced back at the sales girl.

“Yes, miss. I’ll bring the sample dress right away.” She scurried off before Charlie could thank her.

“You know we don’t have time for your little tantrums.” Margaret scowled when Charlie returned to the fitting area. “I have so many things to do before the party and your uncooperative behavior hasn’t made any of this easier.”

“What’s the rush? Let’s postpone the stupid party.” Her mother shot her a menacing glare. “Never mind,” she muttered under her breath.

“What is that?” She followed her mother’s horrified gaze. The nervous sales girl approached cautiously with the dress Charlie requested.

“Should I take it back, ma’am?” The girl directed the question to Margaret.

“It’s horrid. Take it awa— ”

“No. You can put it in my fitting room.” Ignoring Margaret’s protests, Charlie followed the girl into the fitting room and closed the door behind them. “Can you help me?” The girl nodded. With hurried movements, she unzipped the black dress and took the new one off its hanger. A moment later, Charlie stepped out of the fitting room. Holding her head high, she walked up to the pedestal.

The dress fit like an extension of her own body. The pale pink material complimented her light brown hair and green eyes. With a high empire waist, the dress had a casual, comfortable feel, but beading along the capped sleeves, bust, and hem gave it an elegant look. The migraine that threatened only minutes before disappeared when Charlie took in her reflection. She smiled for the first time since arriving at the boutique.

“This is the dress.” Charlie nodded to herself.

“Charlotte, that color is all wrong for your skin tone. You look washed out and, frankly, fat.” Margaret eyed the dress with disgust. “I want you to wear something daring. Every other girl wears pale colors to their coming-out parties. You must wear something that will stand out. Why not a deep red?”

She heard her mother’s insult but ignored it. “This is the dress I like. I’ll take it.”

“I won’t let you wear it. It looks cheap and you look cheap in it.” Mother and daughter locked eyes. Tension crackled like electricity in the air.

“If I don’t wear this dress, then I don’t wear anything. It’s your choice, Mother.” When Charlie came out of the fitting room a few minutes later in her street clothes, she saw Margaret offering up her wrist to be scanned in payment.

“We’ll order your dress and it will be ready for your fitting in a week, Miss Grey.” The sales girl chanced a smile before taking her leave. Full of satisfaction, Charlie smirked.

“I’m just happy you’re starting to come around to the idea of the party.” Margaret sounded anything but happy.

“Of course, Mother.” Her snide tone earned her a disapproving scowl.

Margaret led the way out of the dressing area and toward the exit, chattering all the while. “It’s important that you be on your best behavior at lunch today. I’ve invited a few ladies to join us. Each woman represents a son or grandson who would be considered a suitable match for you. If you impress them at this luncheon, you will improve your chances at securing one of them for a husband.”

“I told you that I’m meeting Ruth.” Charlie had to fight to hold back her frustration. “Please apologize to your friends on my behalf.”

“And I told you to cancel. You’re having lunch with me.” Margaret shot her a stern look as a black town car pulled up. Carlton, her mother’s driver, opened the door for the two women.

Indignation bubbled inside of Charlie. “No. I made these plans with Ruth weeks ago and I’ve barely see her since she went away to University. I won’t cancel them.”

“These women are friends of mine. I won’t allow you to slight them like this. Get in the car.” Margaret raised an eyebrow, daring Charlie to test her.

“Have your favorites stay to dinner. I’ll be home for round two.” She walked away, ignoring her mother’s shrill voice calling after her.

Finding a cab on Portestas’ busy streets was almost impossible. The capitol city of the Province of Kansas had an overabundance of people and a shortage of black cabs to accommodate them. People bustled along the sidewalks, making them as crowded as the road, but the city’s grid-like layout made navigating on foot easy.

Charlie glanced at her phone. The appointment at the boutique had run late thanks to Margaret’s insistence that Charlie try on every dress that struck her fancy. If she wanted to make it to the restaurant on time, she needed to hurry. The foot traffic congesting the sidewalks made running difficult. She wove between the masses, doing her best not to body check anyone. When a woman in front of her stopped suddenly, she couldn’t slow down in time to avoid a collision. She and the woman managed to remain standing, but Charlie garnered a powerful glare.

“I’m so sorry,” Charlie panted. “Are you alright?”

“Clumsy fool, watch where you’re going!”

Charlie moved around her, intent on getting to the restaurant, when a face in the crowd caught her eye. One man standing motionless in the sea of moving people watched her intently. His cold, calculating look and hulking frame stood out in the mass of disinterested strangers. Their eyes met and the hair on her arms stood on edge. He wore a glower that exaggerated the crowfeet by his eyes and made her stomach lurch.

Above the pounding of her heart, Charlie could hear her mother’s voice whispering from a distant memory: “Your father is a very important member of the government. There are people who want to hurt him through you.”

She couldn’t shake the feeling that the man watching her was one of those people. He stepped toward her, never breaking eye contact. Charlie knew if he caught her, she could end up ransomed or worse. She stumbled backward, colliding with pedestrians. This time she didn’t stop to apologize. Sheer terror spurred her on.

Charlie struggled through the crowded street. Business men and women glowered as she pushed past them. She chanced a glance back. The man slipped effortlessly through the crowd, watching her the entire time. She felt like a helpless lamb being stalked by a wolf. She looked away, focusing on the frantic sound of her feet slapping against the pavement.

As she moved further from the center of the district, the foot traffic lessened until she could easily dodge between the pedestrians. This meant she moved quicker, but so did her pursuer. She’d hoped to lose him in the crowds but he’d managed to keep pace with her. The residential district loomed in front of her, sending her heart plummeting. Now there would be no crowd to lose him in.

She slowed, looking back again. He was about ten yards behind her. Glancing left and right, she sought some escape, found none. Making a scene would be her best chance to get away. But she needed assurance, just in case her plan didn’t work.

Charlie kept moving as she pulled the phone from her pocket, dialing as fast as her trembling fingers allowed. “Come on, come on,” she chanted, scanning the thinning crowd for the familiar black uniform of a City Guard, but finding none.

A female voice answered. “Where are you? I’ve been waiting for—”

She cut the girl off. “Ruth, if I don’t call you back in two minutes, I need you to call my father and tell him to track my chip.”

“What’s going on?” Ruth demanded

“Just do it, Ruth!” She ended the call and whirled around to face the man.

A few yards away from her now, his brown eyes raked over her. He slunk forward, stopping mere feet from her. “You’re a hard one to get a hold of, Miss Grey.” Impossibly, he didn’t seem winded at all.

A chill ran down her spine at the sound of her name. “What do you want?” Her phone vibrated in her hand, but she ignored it.

“I want to talk to you.” He stepped closer, forcing Charlie to retreat a few steps.

“Stay where you are,” she demanded, holding up her hands as if that could ward him off.

He ignored her, moving forward again. She took a deep breath, preparing to scream.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned, holding up a tattooed hand. He held what looked like a small black gun.

Charlie’s heart skipped a beat and her breathing faltered. “You wouldn’t shoot me, not in such a public place. Besides, I’ve called a friend. If she doesn’t hear from me in two minutes, she’ll call my father. There is nowhere you can take me that I won’t be found.”

“This isn’t a gun, Miss Grey. Are you familiar with the Old World device known as a taser?” She nodded, prompting him to continue. “Unfortunately, our chips can’t withstand the electrical current a taser delivers. When I shoot you, the electricity will short-circuit your chip. Not only will you be flat on your back unable to defend yourself, no one will be able to track you.” He grinned.

“I’ll scream before you can shoot me. People will see.” Her breathless voice betrayed her panic.

He shook his shaved head. “And when they come to investigate, I’ll play the role of a concerned lover. Make up some medical excuse, tell them I’m bringing you to the hospital then disappear with you.” An amused expression tugged at his mouth. “Miss Grey, I’ve already thought this through. Don’t test me. All I want to do is talk.”

Charlie’s mind raced, searching for a way out of this. He was too big to fight, too fast to run from, and with that taser in his hand, she’d be a goner before her vocal cords made a sound.

“I’ll talk to you, but we stay here. In the open.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “First, call your friend. I don’t want any trouble from her.”

Charlie nodded, dialing Ruth.

“Put it on speaker,” he commanded.

A second later the sound of ringing emanated from the phone. Ruth picked up after two rings.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Sorry, Ruth. There was a reporter following me. He wanted an interview about my coming-out. I overreacted.” Charlie forced her voice to sound light and contrite.

“Don’t ever do that to me again! I thought you were in real trouble. So, where are you? I feel like an idiot sitting here all by myself. Wait, you sound weird. Am I on speaker?”