Charlotte shifted in the chair slightly, the ropes cutting into her exposed wrists. She had no idea where they were, but from the look of things, she’d say a basement. The walls were rough, old stone, sparkling with moisture. The air had a musty, dirt smell. She had no idea what the floors were made of, but they looked worn, uneven, and slick.
The room was just a small ten by ten with a mirror on one wall. It didn’t take a genius to guess that it was a two-way mirror. It made her wonder what in the hell her father used this place for. And how long had he had it? If she’d learned one thing so far during this short and painful reunion with her father, it was that she was no longer interested in knowing what it was he did. No wonder her mother had kept it from them. Charlotte had a sneaking suspicion, when looked at closely, Douglas Hatcher was not that far removed from Ludwig Tenebris. Both men had blood on their hands, and apparently Douglas Hatcher didn’t care if that blood was related to him.
One of the soldiers stood with his gun aimed at her. She wasn’t exactly sure why, considering she was tied to a chair. She had mental powers, not super strength powers. The only way she was bursting out of these restraints was if she had a knife and a little bit of privacy. The soldier stared at her, his eyes never leaving. She flicked her gaze to his briefly now and again, and every time he would be looking back. It was making her downright nervous. From the pinched look of his eyes, she guessed he was wondering just how strong her mind reading capabilities were. She’d seen that look many times before. Like if they concentrated on her hard enough she’d speak to them telepathically and reveal all their inner, darkest secrets. Or that somehow staring at her would increase their defence against her. Fools.
She slowly turned her head to meet his stare straight on, this time not looking away. “Take a picture,” she said dryly. “It lasts longer.”
His mouth turned down in a look of disgust. “You’re a traitor to your people,” he said.
“Oh? My people who currently have me tied to a chair? Those people? Are those the people you’re talking about? Because I got to tell you, from this standpoint, I’m not really sure why I wouldn’t be a traitor.”
“Enough,” her father said, walking into the room. “Don’t speak to her,” he scolded the man. He turned to her, that familiar crease between his eyebrows appearing. She remembered it from whenever he was upset with her. It hadn’t been often, but it was a key indication that she was in shit. For the most part, current circumstances aside, she had always been a good, obedient daughter. Her father had never been the overly loving type, but she still looked for his approval growing up. Now she couldn’t fathom why.
“You mother is probably spinning in her grave at what you’ve become,” he said.
“The grave you helped put her in?” she replied with a sweet smile. His face hardened. “What do you want from me, dad? If you’re going to kill me then go ahead. What are you waiting for?”
He smiled, not the kind one she had memories of, but one that left her with chills. “Oh I’m not going to kill you, Charlotte. You’re my bartering piece – assurance that everything will get done exactly the way I want it to.” He walked closer to her, crouching down two feet away from the chair. “Your sister is very adamant that no harm comes to you. She’s rather – protective.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “What does Bridgette have to do with this? I only just found her before you arrived. She has nothing to do with me and my affiliations.”
“I’m well aware,” he said. “However, I need her help with this.”
“Help with what?” she asked, tentatively.
He stood back up. “Not your problem. What I need from you is a little bit of information.”
“Fuck you.” Pain exploded in her left cheek as her head whipped to the side. Blood filled her mouth from a cut on the inside of her cheek. She blinked back the stars dotting her vision as she wiggled her jaw back and forth gingerly. “So much for no harm,” she said, spitting a mouthful of blood on the floor.
“I promised no serious harm would befall you, but I can’t guarantee you won’t sustain some injuries if you continue to be difficult.”
Charlotte looked up at the soldier who just struck. She made a quick mental note to introduce his balls to her foot if she ever got out of this.
“Now,” her father said, grabbing her attention again. “Let’s try this once more, shall we? I’m sure you will have no problem giving me the information I need from now on, correct?”
Charlotte spat another mouthful on the floor, glaring up at him. “I believe my previous statement still stands.”
“A pity,” he said, frowning. Charlotte heard the rustle of fabric a second before the soldier’s fist hit. With each blow, she realized that the physical pain was no match to the hurt from Pete’s rejection. She had told him she loved him. What had he done? Absolutely nothing. Nada. Not a thing. She wondered if he ever felt anything for her in the short time they had been together. Maybe he hadn’t, she considered. Maybe it was all just fun for him, so when Roman told him lies he was quick to believe it. Perhaps it had been easy for him to completely disregard her and write her out of his life. Those possibilities killed, a thousand times more than the blows she was suffering.
Her responses were becoming more gargled as she fought to find her voice around the pain. She was pretty sure one of her ribs were cracked, and her lip had split open to the point that whenever she dared to move it to form words, her mouth would fill with fresh blood. The entire time her father stood back and watched. He’d insist on her cooperation, she’d answer with an offensive reply, and the beating would ensue. This continued on until the door next to the mirror burst open, her sister standing there chalk white, eyes wide with horror. Charlotte tried to smile so she would see she was still okay – well, relatively. Except as soon as she did so, her lips split and blood choked her again. She gagged and spat, looking up to see Bridgette was quite possibly even paler. Whoops, she thought. So much for making her feel better.
“Are you insane?” Bridgette yelled, taking a step into the room. Her father was leaning against the mirror, arms crossed over his chest. There wasn’t a speck of regret on his face as he stood there watching his youngest child get beaten while tied to a chair. “You promised,” she said, pointing an angry finger in his face.
“I promised she wouldn’t be seriously harmed,” he replied. “I can’t promise she won’t be harmed at all if she doesn’t cooperate with us.”
Bridgette looked over at her sister hunched in the chair. “This isn’t right,” she said. “I won’t help you if this is how you’ll treat her.”
Her father splayed his hands in front of him like there was nothing he could do. “Then, by all means, you convince her to start talking. Otherwise I’ll have to do it my way.”
Bridgette walked over to Charlotte and knelt in front of her. She gently stroked the strands of hair sticking to her face, peering into her eyes. Eyes so much like her own, and yet so incredibly different. Charlotte always had so much more strength than Bridgette ever had. You could see it in her eyes. They had that spark to them that said she wasn’t going to let anyone push her around. And even tied up and beaten it shone through. That ever present gleam of rebellion.
“Charlie,” she whispered, calling her the nickname she used when they were younger. “I need you to tell dad what he wants to know so we can stop all this. If we just do as he says, we can walk away from all of this and put it behind us.”
Her sister snorted, glaring over her shoulder at their father. She spat out a mouthful of blood. “You’re a fool if you believe that. He’ll never just let us walk way. Especially me,” she choked.
“He will,” she said. “He promised.”
Their eyes met, her sister’s unconvinced. “I don’t trust him and neither should you.”
“At this point I don’t have any other choice.”
They stared at each other for what felt like hours, until Charlotte finally dropped her head with a great sigh
. Charlotte looked at their father as Bridgette kept her focus on her sister. “What do you need to know?”
“How you operate on the inside,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you wear your mask at all times?”
Her sister hesitated, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Yes,” she replied slowly.
“Excellent. What do they call you in there?”
“Why?”
A fist hit her in the stomach, doubling her over. Bridgette cried out, wrapping her arms protectively around her. “John, I swear to God if you hit her one more time I’ll kill you myself,” Bridgette said.
“She needs to answer the question, not ask her own,” he said.
“She’s my sister, John! For crying out loud you grew up down the street from her. And she’s a girl.”
The man spat on the floor, his lip curled up in disgust. “From where I stand she looks a whole lot like the enemy to me.”
Bridgette shook her head in disbelief. These men were just as brainwashed as the New World army soldiers. “I’m fine, Bridge,” Charlotte said against her shoulder. She backed up, looking at her closely. So much strength, she thought admiringly. She was starting to wonder just how far her sister would have pushed them had she not barged in. The soldiers in the other room had kept her out while she watched through the window, but she’d had enough. And she was glad for it, otherwise who knew what shape Charlotte would have been in.
Her father was very upfront about his plan and the role Bridgette would play. She’d always promised herself she wouldn’t get involved in this rebellion, but sometimes there was just no way around it. When he threatened her sister’s life if she didn’t agree she knew she had no choice. She only just got her sister back; there was no way she was losing her again. Anything was worth keeping her family alive and close.
“Just answer their questions,” she said. “I need you to do this. For me. I can’t watch them hit you again.”
Charlotte nodded. “Ludwig calls me Dinah, or Di,” she answered, only looking at Bridgette now. Her voice was hoarse, laced with pain. “Roman calls me Lottey all the time, and I give him shit for it. Everyone else calls me X.” Bridgette smiled encouragingly at her.
“Where is your room?”
“Fourth floor, room two-o-eight.” Still she only looked at her, even though it was their father asking the questions.
“What is your normal schedule?”
“I wake up and meet them at Ludwig’s office in the morning.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“Where’s the office.”
“Second floor, directly across from the elevators down the hall. Two large double doors. You can’t miss it.”
“Do you speak to them?”
She looked over at her father now, one eyebrow cocked. “Of course I speak. I’m masked, not mute.”
“Do you speak to them like this?” he asked, his voice dripping with scorn.
She smiled, the cut on her lips opening with the movement. “They’re well aware I’m a bitch.”
Douglas snorted. “What happens in these meetings?”
She shrugged. “I sit and listen to whatever Ludwig wants to discuss. They’re always different things.”
“Are his weapon providers still coming here in a week and a half?”
She stilled. “How do you know that?” Bridgette saw John step closer from the corner of her eye. She held out her hand to stop him.
“Don’t,” she warned.
“It doesn’t matter how I know,” Douglas said. “Just answer the question.”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Excellent. I think that’s all I need from her. John, transfer her to one of the holding cells until this is all complete.”
Bridgette looked over her shoulder at him. “Promise me she won’t be hurt while I’m gone. Promise.”
“Nothing will happen to her. When you’ve done what you’ve agreed to do, you can come right back here and pick her up.”
“Bridge?” Charlotte said, her voice panicked. Bridgette looked back at her to see her face paled. “What have you agreed to do? Where are you going?”
“I’m doing what I must in order to get us both away from all of this. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you here long.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No. Please don’t go. Don’t do whatever he’s asking you to do.”
“I have to, Charlie. If I don’t, he’ll hurt you.”
“So let him,” she cried. “Who cares? It’s not worth it to get in bed with the devil.”
Bridgette shook her head sadly. “I can’t let them take you away from me again.” She stood up slowly and backed away. Charlotte struggled in her bindings, her eyes wild.
“I need someone on the inside for a little while,” said their father. She could hear the cockiness in his voice and it made her sick. “I can’t very well just send in someone random. But if it is someone they expect to see, someone who blends in, there won’t be any problems.”
Charlotte looked between them.
“The only person who is on the inside, close enough to the source of my problems, is you.” He walked closer, coming to stand beside Bridgette. “But obviously I can’t trust you, now can I? So I’ll need someone to take your place.” His hand landed heavily on her shoulder.
“No,” Charlotte whispered.
“She’s the only girl I know with eyes similar to yours. Hopefully no one will see the subtle differences, but so long as she keeps that mask on, I don’t see a problem.”
“Bridge, no,” Charlotte said. “They’ll figure it out. If they discover you, they’ll kill you.”
“Well then she’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. Won’t you, Bridgette?”
Bridgette nodded, swallowing around the lump in her throat as she read the horror in her sister’s eyes. You can do this, she told herself. She’d been telling herself that ever since her father explained the plan to her. It still sounded as weak to her as it did the first time she said it. You just need to keep your head down, and focused, she chanted. If she kept out of the way, no one would notice. At least, she hoped so.
“You’re going to get her killed!” Charlotte yelled.
Douglas Hatcher shook his head. “This is the perfect plan. Simple, easy, and effective. Just a quick switch, and it will all be over.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Twenty guys crowded into his apartment. Pete looked around, grateful for those who had chosen to stick by him, but nervous at the low number. Twenty wasn’t really a lot when going up against the hundreds Douglas had backing him. It would have to do though.
His father was still in the bedroom with Seamus, who had yet to regain consciousness. Things were so tense he really wasn’t sure what to do with himself. All he knew was that he needed to get Di…Charlotte back. The whole day had taken its toll on him. His nerves were shot. His body hummed with energy and no outlet. People were talking to him and he was responding without really hearing a word they said to him. It was all just a blur of activity. The whole time all he could really think about was that she loved him and he let her go.
“We’re ready to move when you are,” Trent said, coming up to stand beside him. Pete nodded absently. “Hey,” he said, nudging him. “Wake up, bro. We’ve got men, weapons, and a shit load of testosterone. Let’s go get your girls.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m just going to let da know. You get everyone outside.”
Pete turned and headed to the bedroom. His father was sitting on the bed beside Seamus.
“How is he?” he asked.
“His breathing is stable,” Michael said. “He has a pretty bad concussion, but I’ll keep an eye on him. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“How are you?” he asked meaningfully.
“I’m…I’ve been better.”
He got up and walked closer. “I think you might have a concussi
on yourself, boy. How hard were you hit on the head?”
Pete reached back and fingered the egg sized lump on the back of his skull. “Hard enough to be knocked out, twice.”
“You need rest.”
“I’ll get it when I have Bridgette and Charlotte back.”
Michael grunted. “You love her?”
“Charlotte?” He nodded. “I think so,” he admitted.
“You think?”
“I know,” he said. “I’m going crazy not knowing what’s happening to her.”
His father smiled tenderly. “You’ve got that same look in your eyes when you talk about her that I used to when your mother was around. I know how hard it is to love someone that much. You never want anything to happen to them. You want to keep them close.”
“Da…”
He held up a hand to stop him. “I know, son. I know how you all feel about me holding on to her and the past. I’m not blind. I might be stupid, but I’m not blind. Perhaps now that you’ve found someone to love, you’ll understand how hard it is to just let that feeling go. You keep a good hold on her, boy. When you give someone a piece of your heart and they take it away with them, you never feel quite whole again.” Pete clamped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing him gently. “I’ve wasted a lot of years, but that’s going to change now. I’ve buried my head in the sand too long. Douglas and his council are overstepping their boundaries. We didn’t start the rebellion so we could become our enemies. We wanted a better, peaceful life for our people. Douglas has lost sight of that.”
“Will you help us stop him now?” Pete asked, excitement and pride engulfing him.
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