The Predator [1]

by Brooke May

  “They would be if either was alive.”

  I gasp. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. My dad died when I was thirteen, and my mom when I was sixteen.” He’s been on his own for five years? Now, I feel horrible complaining about mine. “They gave me their love and support while they were alive. I’ll carry it with me.” He nods with a happier grin. “And make sure I pass it on to my kids one day.”

  “Twenty-one and already thinking of a family of your own?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Of course, I don’t want to be alone anymore …” He glances over at me. “I just need to find the right woman to join the journey.” Something about the look in his eyes takes my breath away. It holds a set promise to his statement that makes me wonder if he already found her.

  Then why bother with me?

  When we reach my car, I almost don’t want to get out of his stink trap. I want to tell him to keep driving and take me away from the hell that awaits me at home. “Thank you … for lunch.” I lean over and give him a small kiss on the cheek before I open the door and climb out.

  “Wait!” Chamberlain grabs my hand to stop me. “Katie, I want to see you again.”

  “I would like that.” The glee I feel is electrifying. I’m so excited. “Do you have a phone?” I ask.

  Seriously? What a stupid question!

  He quickly slides one out of his hoodie pocket and hands it to my outstretched hand. I add my number in under “Katie,” feeling giddy knowing only he will call me that. “Call me and we’ll figure something out. Thank you, Chamberlain.” I almost don’t recognize my own voice. It is husky and heavy. Chamberlain licks his bottom lip and nods.

  I smile once more, and with a wave, I shut his door and walk to my car. He sits in his until mine warms up enough to leave. He follows me until he turns off to go his own way. I can’t help the smile and this wonderful feeling filling my body.

  Chapter Seven

  MY GOOD MOOD is nearly killed when I pull into the driveway and see my father’s driver, Tony, pulling the Town Car into the garage.

  So he’s decided to join us this weekend.

  My father only comes home for weekends every other week, and this week, he wasn’t supposed to be here. This makes what I need to do easier. I don’t have to repeat myself or listen to my mom spew something to my father that is far from the truth.

  I wave to Tony as I get out of my car and head to the house. He waves back and turns back to whatever he does after he finishes driving my father. He is a relatively new member of my parents’ staff. When he first started, he would always have my car waiting for me, which bothered me. How did he know I was awake and leaving at that time?

  I started parking outside, and I started to feel better. But soon, the eerie feeling returned about him after Fiona told me she catches him watching me from time to time. I usually hurry on my way and avoid him when he is here.

  I learned to take the side door into the house for a reason. My mother is at her usual post at the front door when I walk in. Her evil dog is under her arm, snarling at me. Actually, both of them are. She gasps in horror as I removed my coat, but her face doesn’t break. “You went out in public like this?” She sneers as her eyes move down to my tennis shoe feet and back up to the top of my head that holds a messy bun. “Katherine, what if someone saw you?”

  I square off my shoulders.

  I’m not backing down this time.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. Do I embarrass you that much?” I cock my head to the side, never breaking eye contact with her. “I’m nineteen years old, an adult; I can dress and do as I please. I don’t appreciate being treated like a diseased child you were stuck with.” I take a step closer to her. “And people did see me; I was in public, after all.” I walk past her only to have her grab my arm.

  “You live under my roof, and as such, you will dress and behave as you are told. Do not be an ungrateful brat.”

  Looking over my shoulder, I gaze into her eyes. “I refuse to be a Stepford wife, and as such, I will not be told what to do anymore. I run my own life.” I jerk my arm from her. “I’m not ungrateful. Father’s money has given me a wonderful education, but there are just some things in this world that not everyone wants.” I leave her, mouth gaping open, as I march up to my room and lock myself in my small fortress.

  My phone chimes just as I drop my bag at the foot of my bed. It’s a number I don’t know.

  Unknown: Hope you made it home safely.

  Me: Who is this?

  Unknown: It’s me, panda.

  A smile and a warm feeling resurface when I see the nickname Chamberlain has given me.

  Me: Hi.

  How lame am I?

  Me: I did, did you?

  I hit send and don’t get a chance to get a reply when my room phone goes off. My parents are old school, and when mine rings, it only means one thing I’m in trouble.

  “Yes?”

  “My office … now.” He hangs up, and I sigh. This is the only way he will communicate with any of us when he is home. My mother and Zoey don’t mind, but I think it is cold and so detached.

  It’s time to rip the Band-Aid off.

  I quickly braid my hair as I head downstairs to the back corner of the house where my father’s office hides. Growing up, it was a forbidden area, and the only place Zoey got into more trouble than I did. She thought she was entitled to everything, still does, and would go in there all the time. As I got older, I went in there a handful of times, usually because I had upset him and my mother.

  I lightly knock before I enter. As I thought, my mother is standing behind and off to the side of my father. He sits behind his desk, which is covered with stacks of papers. His elbows are resting on his desk while his hands are steepled, his index fingers pushing against his bottom lip.

  He isn’t pleased.

  Both sets of eyes follow me as I walk across the room and come to stand in front of the desk.

  “Katherine.”

  “Father.” I don’t offer any more of a greeting. We aren’t here to catch up and exchange pleasantries.

  “Katherine, you have upset your mother with your aggression toward her. Apologize.”

  Of course, she calls me sticking up for myself aggression.

  I take a deep breath and keep my eyes leveled with his. “No.”

  “Why, you ungrateful little bit-”

  “Carol!” My father’s sharp scold jolts both my mother and me. He returns his focus to me when he knows she won’t say another word. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m tired of being picked on, of being told what to do, and how to do it. I’m taking control of my life starting now. No more.” I do my best to keep up this tough front. I’m struggling, but I need him to see how serious I am. I won’t back down; I am strong.

  “How so?” He sits back in his chair but remains sitting up straight and proper. “You live under our roof; you are our daughter and will obey our rules.”

  I frown. “I will to a point, but you are no longer running my life. I will not allow it anymore.” I take a deep breath and get ready to break the first news to them. “I do not want to go to Princeton and I certainly do not want a life as a lawyer or politician.”

  My mother gasps as my father’s eyes widen the tiniest amount before the look of anger takes over. “You will-”

  “No, I will not.” I cut him off.

  Stay strong.

  “How dare you interrupt me?”

  “That’s what happens when you raise a daughter to become a great politician. Do you really know any women politicians? None of them would allow someone else to run and dictate their lives. It’s your own fault I’m this way. Please learn to deal with it.” Anger labors my breathing, and I swear I’m seeing red. “I want to pursue something I am passionate about, and it isn’t law. I don’t care if you refuse to fund my education, but at least I still want to get one, unlike others who live off their family’s wealth.”

  Much like Z
oey plans to do.

  I’m doing it. If I could, I would be patting myself on the back right back now. I’m making fair points, and there is no way he can rebuff them.

  For a long five minutes, we all are silent. My father is mulling over my declaration in his head while my mother shoots daggers at me. A cold sweat has broken out on the back of my neck, and it takes all my strength not to reach up and wipe it away. I’m growing more uncomfortable by the second. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he came back to say that I had no choice, that I’m stuck.

  “Fine.” My eyes shoot up to my father. “I will allow you to go forth with whatever education you want … but you must attend your first year at Princeton. I have already sent the tuition check, and your classes and dorm room are already lined up. If, after your first year, there is no passion for it, then I will support your decisions.”

  Both my mother and I are in shock; I just hide mine better than she does. “Do you agree, Katherine?” he asks before looking back at his papers.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good.” And with that, I am dismissed, but I’m not finished. He waves my mother to mix him a drink and picks up his pen again. When I don’t move, he looks up at me over the rim of his glasses. “Something else, Katherine?”

  “Yes.” I breathe. I’m far more nervous about this one.

  My mother slowly makes her way back over, watching me cynically. “I do not want to nor will I marry Timothy. I will no longer be on his arm in any public or social setting. I will bring my own date that I see fit.” Again, my mother gasps. I don’t allow them to say a word before I continue. “I do not want to be trapped in a loveless marriage, to have my children never feel the love of their father …” I look straight into my father’s eyes. “To be at home, knowing full well he has a mistress out there keeping him better company and happier than I can.”

  It’s a well-known fact that my father has a mistress or two, another reason for Fiona’s employment. I learned that he had a ‘fling’ with the cook before Fiona. This was all from my ailing grandmother before she passed.

  “Timothy and I have grown up together, and no love has ever formed between us. Most times, we can’t even stand one another. I’m always messing up something even when I don’t mean to.”

  “Everyone expects it … a marriage between the two of you,” my mother hisses.

  Yes, I’m well aware of that.

  Our wedding date is set, location picked, and honeymoon destination decided, and he hasn’t even proposed yet.

  “Let Zoey marry him. That’s what they both want.” This surprises my father but not my mother; she already knows how Zoey feels. She would become his mistress anyway. “He is everything Zoey wants, and she is the same to him. They look better together, and I do hear whispers from time to time at social outings that no one understands why he bothers with me. I’m a ‘lost cause.’”

  And I’m happy to stay that way.

  I add one last thing that I know will be the kicker. “I would just be an embarrassment to both families.”

  My father agrees with this through a simple nod. “Agreed.” I thought it would hurt more than it did to hear him agree with me about being an embarrassment, but it doesn’t. Instead, the weight is slowly lifting. He reaches for his phone; his voice is far gentler than my calls. “Zoey? My office, please.” I resist the temptation to roll my eyes.

  Of course, she gets the special treatment.

  “Katherine, is there more or are we finished?”

  “Nothing more,” I grind out and then leave. When I’m out of the room, I fall against the wall and let out a huge breath of relief.

  “You can’t let her do this, Douglas.” The door didn’t close all the way, but my parents don’t know that. “She’ll ruin her life and the reputation of this family.”

  “I have no intention of keeping my word about schooling. She will have a law degree and fall into place.”

  “And Timothy?”

  “A minor setback. I agree with her, though. She would be a complete embarrassment; she already is. Zoey is much more suited to being a wife of a politician. We will just have to find someone better equipped to deal with Katherine.”

  I huff before I kick off the wall and walk away.

  Yeah, right.

  Chapter Eight

  FIONA EYES ME suspiciously as I proudly walk into the kitchen. Somehow, I managed to avoid Zoey on my trek across the house.

  “Something’s different about you,” she notes as I take my usual seat. Tonight, I’m dining with her, and she doesn’t get to fight over it with me now.

  “I feel different, Fiona,” I state with a bright, all-teeth smile. “I finally told them off.” And even though they do not intend to keep their word, I don’t care. A lot can happen in a year and by this time next year, I know I will be out of their reach.

  “Really?” She arches a brow at me and then breaks into her own smile. “About damn time. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during that conversation.”

  “It was tense, but I feel freer now.” I grab an apple from the basket and take a bite.

  “Good for you.” She goes back to her meal prep.

  “I had lunch with him today,” I say almost smugly.

  “Lunch? With who?”

  “The guy I was telling you about. His name is Chamberlain.”

  “Oh, really? And what brought about this change? The K.C. I know was always too shy to have lunch with a man she didn’t know.”

  I blush at her teasing. “He talked to me after my class today and said some things that changed my mind.” My eyes focus on the apple cradled in my hands. “I had him all wrong. He may look like a lethal guy on the outside, but from what I’ve seen so far, the inside is nice and soft.” I can’t get his thick Boston accent and deep blue eyes out of my head.

  It’s puppy love - has to be. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, so I shouldn’t be getting this swooped up by the first guy to actually see me. I can’t seem to help it, though. His comment about maybe finding the woman to share his journey with hits me, though. What if I’m just someone to keep him company while he figures out how to get her?

  I take another bite and find Fiona standing wide-eyed in shock above me. “It’s finally happened …”

  “What?”

  “You … meeting someone.” She answers too quickly as if she’s hiding something. Turning back to her work, she changes the subject. “Go get washed up.”

  I hop down and head out the door.

  “Oh, and K.C.?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I’d really like to meet him someday.” I would like nothing more than that, but I’m getting ahead of myself. There has to be something more than just one meal between us. I’d much rather have someone I may date meet Fiona than my parents and sister.

  XOXO

  WHY DID I bother to come dress shopping with them?

  I’m about to lose it. I should have just snuck out and found a dress without my mother. The only thing that has made today easier is the texts I keep getting from Chamberlain.

  Me: What do you do on the weekends?

  I quickly type out another question for him and send it before my mother comes back with another gown for me to try on.

  With the gala slowly easing its way closer, my mother seems rushed to find the right dresses for Zoey, my Grandmother Hendricks, herself, and me as well. This morning, when she came to ask me, it was awkward and extremely tense. But then she said please, and I decided to show her that I wasn’t completely isolating myself from their lifestyle. As long as I live in their home, I will have to attend these events.

  When I finally move out, I’m done with the events, the parties, and even visiting. They can put in the effort that I did for so many years.

  And now, I’m in a dressing room at a high-end boutique, trying on all the gowns my mother thrusts into my arms.

  Grandmother Hendricks, an older, far crabbier version of my mother, sits
on one of the sofas in the back room dictating to us girls what looks fine and which ones make us look like whores. She and I have never gotten along. She also isn’t the warm, grandmotherly type. Not like my Grandmother Cunningham was toward me.

  Chamberlain: I usually have a fight or two…bored right now.

  Me: Where do you fight?

  “Katherine, try this one on.” My mother’s voice comes from outside the curtain. I poke my head out and grab the awful pea-green dress that waits in front of my nose. “Oh, Zoey. You look stunning in that dress.”

  “Thank you, Mommy.”

  What is wrong with my sister?

  She sounds like a child calling my mother “Mommy.” Mother isn’t a term I prefer, but my mother doesn’t deserve to be just mom.

  “Mother, you aren’t allowed to drink back here.”

  “I don’t care.” Grandmother Hendricks is a lush.

  Chamberlain: Underground stuff, I’ll take you sometime. What r u up to?

  Me: Gown shopping. =(

  Chamberlain: Need some help? ;)

  I giggle and tell him a firm no. First off, we don’t really know one another and secondly, my mother would have a fit …

  On second thought …

  I zip up the side of the gown and open the curtain for another inspection. “Take that God awful thing off, Katherine!” Grandmother practically yells, leading my mother to scold her.

  I hear snickering and turn to find Zoey is, once again, in a breathtaking gown, and she’s laughing at me.

  “For heaven’s sake, Carol, give her something decent to wear. Go take that off now, Katherine.” She sends me happily away. She may be just like my mother, but at least she wants me to look nice. The other two don’t care if I wear a trash bag.

  “I’ll find her a gown.”

  “Wait, Mother!” Their footsteps fade as I slide out of the gown.

  I’m just standing up straight, reaching for my phone, when the curtain flies open and Zoey marches in. “Is it true?” she demands, hands on her bare hips.

  “What?” I try my best to cover myself. “Do you mind, Zoey?”