“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?”
Charlie ignored the questions. “I got sidetracked trying to dodge the reporter. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Fine.” She could hear Ruth pouting through the phone. “I’ll order for you.”
“See you soon.” She ended the call and shot a glare at the man, still keeping an eye out for any City Guards.
“Let me get to the point, Miss Grey. I need something from you.” His eyes roamed over her when he spoke.
Charlie’s skin prickled and her heart beat frantically, but she forced her face to remain calm. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought you just wanted to talk.”
He threw his head back, letting out a genuine laugh. A grin remained on his face as he spoke through his chuckles. “I don’t need that. I want you to get me an invitation to your little party and add a name to the guest list.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Whose name?”
“Nemo.”
Charlie filled her voice with as much self-assurance and disdain as she could muster. “Nemo, Latin for no one. How very Old World of you. And is that your name, Nemo?”
The suggestion seemed to amuse the enormous man. “No. He’s a colleague.”
“And why would your colleague want to attend my coming-out? Don’t tell me he believes we’d make a perfect match,” she mocked with false bravado.
His face remained hard, not rising to her taunt. “Let’s just say he has business with one of your guests.”
“Business he can’t conduct at another place and time?”
“Correct.”
“I don’t think I can do this for your Nemo. For all I know, this ‘business’ could be a plan to assassinate one of the Council members.”
The man moved so fast that she didn’t have a chance to react. He leaned down until their faces were mere breaths away. Lifting a hand, he ran it through her hair, the contact making her shiver with disgust. “You will do it because, despite the fact that young girls do nothing for me, I would make an exception for you.”
She didn’t know if he’d make good on his threat. If he attacked her, there would be no way for her to fight him off. She swallowed down the bile burning her throat. “How do I get you the invitation?”
“I knew you were a smart girl.” He stepped back, putting his hand in his pocket. “When you go for your dress fitting in a week, bring the invitation to the coffee shop across the street. Tell the barista it’s for Nemo. She’ll make sure it makes its way into the right hands.”
Charlie’s breath caught in her throat. “How do you know about my fitting?”
The man met her eyes but remained silent.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” She tried to
move away but he reached out, grabbing her wrist. He squeezed and she could feel the chip beneath his fingers biting into her muscles. He pulled her toward him, so close that she could smell the bitter traces of coffee on his breath.
“Don’t even think about crossing us. If you do, you won’t live long enough to regret it.” He released her and stepped aside. “I’ll be watching.”
She felt his eyes fulfilling that promise as she stumbled back into the crowd.
~
“About time,” Ruth Andrews muttered as Charlie slid into a booth ten minutes late. The redhead’s eyes remained fixed on her phone, her fingers flying as they typed. “I hope you’re in the mood for salad because that’s what I ordered for … whoa.” Ruth’s eyes widened as she looked up from the screen. “What happened to your face?” Her brows pulled down, eyes filling with concern.
As daughters of Council members, Charlie and Ruth had been thrown together at Council events. Once they’d bonded they were nearly impossible to separate. Ruth knew about the tension between Charlie and her parents, but this was different. Admitting that Richard had hit her almost felt too personal to share. But Ruth was her best friend.
Charlie leaned forward, lowering her voice so no one would overhear. As she opened up, her eyes kept drifting toward the tables nearby. Her father’s abuse was a sensitive subject and she couldn’t afford for anyone untrustworthy finding out. But beyond that, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the tattooed thug was watching her like he promised.
When Charlie finished, Ruth wore a shocked expression. “I knew things were strained between you and your parents, but I didn’t know it had gotten that bad. Has he ever hit you before?”
“No. I’m still stunned it happened,” Charlie admitted.
“Do you know what made him snap? It couldn’t have just been your Determining.” Ruth leaned back in the booth, surveying her cheek again.
Charlie shrugged. “Richard is the type of man who thinks paying tuition and giving me a kiss at Christmas is enough to earn my respect. It’s not.”
Memories of her childhood played in her mind. A parade of nannies, flashes of her parents arriving home, drunk, from political or business events, her father walking out the door without so much as a glance in her direction. The loneliness of these moments carved a hollow pit in her chest.
“The fact that he hit me isn’t the worst part about this. The worst part is that my mother did nothing. She just watched. And when he left, she ignored it like it didn’t even happen.” Charlie’s fists clenched.
In many ways, Margaret hadn’t been a mother to Charlie. She’d left nannies to do the hard part, only paying attention to her when convenient. But when Margaret had been there more than Richard, at least. Brushing away tears, tucking the covers around her. Those small moments weren’t enough anymore.
Ruth’s soft voice broke into Charlie’s memories. “I’m sure she was concerned, even if she couldn’t show it.”
“She’s concerned that my future husband will be scared off by my face.”
“I think she might be right. You look awful.” Ruth winked.
Charlie laughed a little. “I did just run all the way here.”
“Well, don’t run before the party. The cut should be healed in time. You’ll just have to worry about a scar…” Ruth trailed off.
“I don’t have to worry about that. The only man I’m going to marry is Drew, and he already saw my face. He doesn’t care.” That wasn’t entirely true. Drew did care, but Charlie didn’t want to tell Ruth how he’d threatened to scar her father in a similar fashion.
When Ruth spoke, Charlie could tell she chose her words carefully. “I know you love Drew, but why do you stay with him?” She paused. “Is he worth all this?”
Charlie took a moment to consider before answering. “When he began to show interest in me I indulged him because I knew it would piss off my father. As I got to know him, I realized that he really liked me for who I am.”
“What do you mean?” Ruth asked, reaching for her drink.
“I don’t know.” Charlie felt awkward trying to verbalize her feelings. “To him, I’m not just the daughter of a rich politician. And I don’t see him as the charity case from the slums. We’re simply two people who love each other.”
“You know you can’t be with him. Your parents will never allow it.”
She would have snapped at Ruth if it weren’t for the compassionate look in her eyes. “They don’t get to make that decision, our chips do. It may turn out that we aren’t Compatible, but I won’t give up hope until I know for sure.” She made a shooing motion with her hand, banishing the conversation. “Enough about me, I want to hear about your love life. Are there any handsome men I need to know about?”
“You’re changing the subject. We still haven’t finished talking about you,” Ruth said, avoiding Charlie’s teasing.
“I know. I’d rather hear about you than rehash my dilemmas. And I can tell there’s something you aren’t sharing. Spill.” Charlie grinned.
A blush colored Ruth’s cheeks as she traced designs in the condensation on her glass. “There is someone,” she murmured, glancing away.
“Who is it?” Charlie demanded.
In the two years since Ruth’s own coming-out, she still hadn’t made a match. Charlie hadn’t asked her friend about it, sensing her relationship status was a sore subject. Knowing there was someone on Ruth’s radar lifted Charlie’s spirits.
A small grin pulled at Ruth’s lips. “I’ll point him out to you at the party.”
“How do you know he’ll be there?” Curiosity filled Charlie’s voice.
“He goes to all the important Council functions.”
Charlie didn’t think of her coming-out as an important Council function, but she didn’t argue. “He’s connected with the Council, then.” Ruth didn’t give anything away. “Fine, be that way.” The waiter brought out their meals and the two lapsed into easy conversation while they ate.
Studying law at Washington University had kept Ruth busy for the past few months. She told Charlie all about the classes she’d been placed in, the people she met, and the plans she made for her future. Charlie envied Ruth, wishing her own Determining had placed her somewhere she could be happy and thrive.
The two were saying their farewells when Ruth suddenly asked, “What happened with that reporter?”
The memory of the man’s hot, stale coffee-breath came rushing back. The salad in her stomach churned, refusing to settle. “Nothing. I told him if he wanted an interview he would have to wait until the party like everyone else.”
“But you sounded panicked when you called.”
Charlie shrugged. “When I saw him following me, I got scared. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Get used to it.” She winked and headed down the sidewalk. “After your coming-out, you’ll be a hot commodity. At least until you get married,” she called over her shoulder.
Charlie shook her head, waved goodbye, then headed on her way. On any other day, she would have walked home. She might have stopped in a shop or bought a cup of coffee on her way. But today, she didn’t feel safe. Hailing a passing cab, she shot a nervous look around before getting in. There he was. Across the street. Watching her. He lifted his hand and gave her a wave. She slid into the cab, slamming the door shut behind her.
~
“You look wonderful, Miss Grey.” The seamstress smiled at her handiwork. “The men will fall at your feet.”
“My mother will be thrilled to hear it.” She attempted to return the woman’s smile, but it felt more like a grimace. Even with a week to prepare herself, this day and the task ahead left her anxious. Her thoughts wandered out of the boutique, across the street, and into the coffee shop. The further her mind wandered, the clammier her skin felt.
“If you'll change, I can put the dress away and schedule your final fitting.”
Charlie nodded, stepping into the dressing room. Her eyes flicked to her purse. An envelope p
eeked out of the top.
Acquiring the invitation had been easy. All she needed to do was grab the extra one sitting on Margaret’s desk. What hadn’t been easy was getting Nemo’s name on the guest list. She had to choose between asking Margaret or the event coordinator to add the name. What it really boiled down to was either to deal with Margaret now or when the coordinator ran the name by her for approval. She decided to cut out the middleman, taking the verbal beating head on.
“How can you spring another guest on me so close to the party? And who is this person? What kind of a name is Nemo? He must be another vagabond like that Drew you’re so fond of.”
Charlie listened to her mother without commenting. By the end of the ordeal, Nemo’s name appeared on the list. With that task complete, all that remained was to deliver the invitation. Her stomach dropped at the thought.
She stepped out of the dressing room, handing the garment over to the sales woman. In less time than she would have liked she stood outside the coffee shop, peering through the window at the barista.
She was average height with broad shoulders and a warm smile. She’d pulled her brown hair back in a ponytail that swung back and forth as she moved. Charlie couldn’t imagine how this normal girl could be involved with the gruff man who’d cornered her on the street. The girl glanced her way. A flicker of recognition passed across her face. Her smile turned hard, as if glued in place. Leaving wasn’t an option. Charlie had been seen.
After a moment to steady herself, she walked inside. The shop smelled of espresso and warm, sweet bread. Most days this combination would make Charlie’s mouth water, but today it made her nauseous. She stood in line, pulling the envelope out of her bag. Her sweaty hands left wet fingerprints on the paper, but she didn’t care. The sooner she got this over with, the better. Three people stood between her and the register. Three people, then she could try to forget any of this ever happened.
The Determining Page 3