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.
Chapter Seventeen
“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.
Are you going to let this bitch disrespect you?
Richard ignored the voice. “She entered her name in the Lottery, Margaret. They paired her before I—”
“Stop pretending you couldn’t have fixed it with the click of a button.” She leaned forward, sneering at him. “If you’d taken a moment and used your head, we wouldn’t be in this mess. You’ve been this way since I met you. Quick tempered without sparing a moment for thought.”
Richard’s hackles rose. “Don’t forget, I’m the one that made us what we are. Without me, you’d have nothing. You’d be nothing.”
She scoffed. “No. If it hadn’t been for the Council, Donovan would have remained the CEO of Grey Technology. Without them, you wouldn’t even be on the Council. They made us what we are.”
Don’t let her get away with this. Don’t let her be like Charlotte.
Richard rose to his feet, spurred on by his inner demon. “Donovan died by my hand. I did that, not the Council!”
“They needed your brother alive! You should know better than anyone that we can’t repair the damage he did to the program. The hundreds of programmers working for you still haven’t discovered all that he did. If he were still alive, we could have used him, forced him to fix it.”
“We don’t need him.” He barely managed to speak through his gritted teeth.
Margaret’s eyebrows arched with disbelief. “It’s been eighteen years since you killed Donovan. I’ve seen little progress.”
The voice bellowed and any control Richard had vanished. In an instant, he held Margaret up by the throat. He didn’t squeeze hard enough to cut her air off, just enough to make a point.
Cut her off! Squeeze harder!
Richard was tempted to obey, but denied the urge. He bent down until their faces were level. “Don’t ever disrespect me again. I beat Charlotte because she didn’t remember her place. Nothing will stop me from doing the same to you,” he spoke in a low, menacing growl.
Tears slipped from Margaret’s wide eyes, sliding down her cheeks. “You … wouldn’t,” she wheezed, her face turning red.
“Don’t bank on it.” Disgusted, Richard pushed her away. She landed in a heap on the floor. Her hands automatically went to her neck as she took a few labored breaths.
She crawled to her knees, taking a moment to catch her balance before rising to her feet. “Have you forgotten what I know?” she rasped, hands still on her neck, fear overwhelming her face.
His blood went cold at the reminder, but he managed to keep his face calm. He settled back into his chair, returning his attention to the tablet while he spoke. “You can go.” He dismissed her with a wave.
She glared at him but complied without question, her heels shuffling as she stumbled away.
You should have killed her.
Richard shook his head. “She’s my wife, I’ll do what I please with her.”
You’d do well to heed me.
Richard heard the words, but his attention was focused on the video. He touched the screen and played it again.
No, he wouldn’t let Charlotte do this. No matter what he had to do or who he had to hurt, she would submit to him. He would make sure of it.
Chapter Eighteen
“You all know my position.” Nemo tried to keep his tone impartial. “Do any of you have concerns?”
He sat at a long table in the conference room. Six screens stood spaced evenly around the table. The faces of each Leader stared back at him from the displays. Their expressions varied from impassive to furious.
As expected, Drayton spoke first. “Marriage was not part of the original plan you presented.” His eyes narrowed.
“No, but it became a necessity.” Nemo let his gaze drift over the six screens. “A union between Grey and Novack would rip Charlotte from our grasp and strengthen the Council. We couldn’t afford to let it happen.”
Drayton started to protest but Samar interrupted, her voice crackling over the speakers. “Marriage aside, you did this without our approval.”
Nemo forced back a frustrated sigh. “There wasn’t time for a formal meeting. I did what was necessary under the circumstances.”
“I can attest to the need for quick action,” Slater piped up, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “When I arrived to perform the marriage, I saw the extent of the girl’s injuries. If Nemo hadn’t acted quickly, I doubt she would have survived to play her part in this.”
Lisha, the Leader from New Florida, spoke in a small, high-pitched voice. “But she wasn’t harmed until after the pairing with Thayer, isn’t that right?”
Nemo shifted, trying to disguise his discomfort. “True, but with Grey it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.”
“You can’t know that,” Drayton scoffed.
Nelia huffed in annoyance. “We need to focus on where we go from here.”
“As far as I’m concerned, this all worked out better than the original plan,” Slater said with a confident grin.
“How’s that?” barked Drayton.
A look of disdain crossed Slater’s face. “Rather than integrating ourselves into her life slowly, we have someone right there. This pairing will work to our advantage.”
The faces on the monitors softened. A few even smiled.
“This will make it easier for another one of our members to befriend her.” Nemo looked at the glaring Drayton. “Everything worked out.”
Samar’s voice drew his attention. “Your actions may have pushed us further ahead of schedule, but they don’t excuse you. All future decisions need to be brought before the Leaders. We are not the Council.”
A chorus of voices muttered in agreement.
Nemo curled his fingers into fists. “I can’t promise that. If another situation arises that requires quick action, I’ll do what I deem necessary. In every other case, I’ll bring all matters before the Leaders.”
No one seemed thrilled by this, but none protested.
“If there is nothing else—” Nemo began.
“We can’t conclude this meeting yet.” On the screen, Samar shifted in her chair. “Thayer, you’ve said nothing. Seeing as you’ve married Miss Grey, I want to hear your opinion.”
Thayer had spent the meeting in silence, taking in the conversation around him. Now, he sat forward, choosing his words with care. “The pairing serves our needs. From what I’ve observed, I can assure you all that Charlotte will be invaluable to us.”
“Your relationship with her must be priority. Get her to trust you. Once you’ve established that connection, we can move forward,” Nemo commanded.
Thayer’s brows puckered in a frown. “Since the attack, I’ve been wondering whether a woman would be more successful in making a connection with her. She doesn’t seem to trust me or my brother.”
Nelia spoke up. “I may be able to form a bond with her. We’ve met before. My connection with your family will provide a cover for me to get closer to her.”
“Do it.” Nemo nodded. “We’re counting on the two of you.”
One by one the Leaders agreed. Seconds later, the screens blinked off, leaving Nemo
alone.
Chapter Nineteen
The sound of a piano woke Charlie. Sleep still lingered at the edge of her mind, making her feel slow and stupid. She rolled onto her side and reached for the phone. Her bleary eyes made it difficult to focus on the screen but, after a moment of fussing, she managed to turn the alarm off. With the music silenced, she tried to let sleep claim her again.
Memories of the night before thrust her back to consciousness. Heaving a heavy sigh, she rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. She’d been too tired to change out of the blood-covered shirt from the night before. After pulling it over her head and slipping out of her sweatpants, she stepped into the shower to wash the nightmare from her skin.
She lingered under the warm spray, enjoying the feel of her muscles uncoiling. Her ribs throbbed as she reached up to scrub her hair. She focused her mind on Thayer instead of the pain. Remembering the sight of him bursting into her room made her cheeks glow with humiliation. She didn’t like appearing as though she couldn’t save herself. Unfortunately, it seemed like she’d been a damsel in distress since her coming-out. The previous night proved to be the icing on the cake.
She gingerly washed her face, flinching as the slight pressure caused her nose to ache in protest. Her frustration mounted. Even her body seemed determined to keep her helpless. She forced herself to move carefully as she rinsed the soap from her face and finished washing. She couldn’t wait until her injuries healed.
Not wanting to see the proof of her weakness, she avoided the mirror as she headed back to the bedroom in search of clean clothes. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a warm sweater. Heading down to the kitchen, she expected to find Thayer already eating, but an empty room greeted her.
It took Charlie a moment to spot the note propped up against a mug near the coffee pot. Seeing her name at the top of the paper, she picked it up and read.
Charlotte,
I have a meeting I can’t put off. Be back in a few hours.
-Thayer
The Determining Page 18