by MJ Riley
One day, after she'd been in Long Island about a week, Addy came to see her.
When the woman was let into the room, only to have the door locked behind her. She immediately rushed to Charlotte's side, her face pale. “Oh, fucking Christ, Charlotte. What has he done to you?”
At her question, Charlotte could only laugh weakly. “What hasn't he done to me? The man's not even my real goddamn father, Addy.”
The woman's green eyes widened to take over her entire face. “What did you say?”
Wearily, Charlotte regaled the woman with the entire story of the past week, starting with the discovery of the origin of Mathers’ patents and finishing with Emerson's HIV status and her own parentage. Stunned, Addy could only sit on the edge of the bed, her hands covering her mouth.
“He's not your real father? Christ, Charlotte. I never knew how deep the lies went. Of all of our patents, only the few I developed are actual company property? All the material he funneled into the department for all those years…those were David's father's designs?”
Charlotte nodded forlornly.
“And what's this?” Addy reached out to touch the bruise on the young woman's jaw gently, making Charlotte flinch at the slight pain. She frowned.
“He hit me.”
“He fucking what?”
“Calm down, Addy, there's nothing you can do about it now.”
“Like hell I can't!” The woman stood from the bed, obviously in quite the rage. “I can call the cops on him. Men don't raise their hands to women, and damn how much money he has!”
“Money to put into the pocket of any cop that might come knocking, Addy. Just leave it be.” Burying her face in the pillows, she let hollowness fill her chest. How long was she going to be kept here? Three months? Six? It was impossible to know. Emerson told her nothing, and since the case had been taken over by her father, Addy had heard little of it either.
“Do you know where David is?”
“David? Why the hell would you want him to come? He started all of this.”
“No, Addy, don't you see? He showed me who Emerson Mathers really is. If David had never come, I would have remained ignorant.”
“Yeah, and now you're imprisoned in your father's house like a criminal.”
Unexpectedly, tears welled in the Charlotte's eyes. After all she'd gone through over the past few days and a visit from Addy was what was going to drive her to tears? It was horse shit.
“I love him, Addy.” Covering her face with her hands as she took a deep breath, she tried to compose herself. “You should have seen him in Nassau when those assholes took me. The look on his face…” She trailed off, fresh tears sluicing over her cheeks. “And now I'll probably never see him again.” She broke into soft sobs, each one wracking her body until she trembled with the force of it.
“Charlotte.” Addy's voice softened, but for once, there was little she could say to lift her friend's spirits. All she could do was embrace her, and somehow, as Addy held her, Charlotte felt only more desolate. She clung to Addy, sobbing her heart out as she imagined how acutely her father would cut David's legs from under him.
Emerson Mathers wasn't human.
After what seemed like hours, she finally quieted. She fell asleep in Addy's arms, and when she woke up, her friend was gone. The two men posted day and night outside her door must have come to get her. When she rolled over, rising from bed at the feel of another vomiting spell coming on, her side caught on something sharp in the sheets and she winced, reaching beneath herself.
She withdrew the tiniest piece of folded paper she'd ever seen. It was damp, as if it had recently been in someone's mouth. Carefully, Charlotte unfolded the small scrap, careful to be wary of the sight lines of the two cameras in the room. In tiny print, a message was written:
Can't talk at the manor. Being followed. Constantly watched. Will do what I can to find your dumb boyfriend and bust you out. Trial in one month. Hope he's ready.
Oh, Addy.
The woman must have smuggled the message in. Quickly, Charlotte popped it in her mouth and swallowed it, praying that no one had noticed.
Then, for the first time in what seemed like ages, she allowed herself the tiniest ray of hope. Adeline had promised her nothing, but when it came to getting something done, there were few people Charlotte trusted more. Seeing how she was rather short on contacts at the moment, she'd just have to trust in the redhead.
Somehow, if she was to get out of this mess, Addy was going to have to bring help.
Chapter Fourteen
He was at his wit's end.
The last time he had seen Charlotte was in Nassau, and that had been weeks ago.
David knew he was supposed to be concentrating on the case they were building against Emerson, but how could he? The man had stuck her in front of him! He'd taken her away to God knew where to do God knew what with her.
Though Marshall, in his rational way, assured him multiple times that the man wouldn't be systematically torturing his own daughter, David still knew that she was being kept against her will somewhere secret. According to his friend, she hadn't come in a single day to work in the firm, and she hadn't been seen publicly since before they'd left for the Bahamas. She'd simply disappeared.
She was also sick. He knew that much.
She'd been trying to hide it for weeks. She'd said it was stress, but she appeared weak and threw up often. He could hope that Emerson wouldn't be so cruel as to keep her from a doctor, letting her waste away; but, he knew better. The man could be exactly that cruel.
When Leah gave him a much needed reprieve from all the trial prep he'd been doing, he lay in his bed late at night, wondering how he'd let Emerson take her. The man had threatened to harm her and then done it, even when David had stopped fighting. It was like some cliché villain from an awful action movie.
He was capable of anything, no doubt. Plus, Charlotte was being held prisoner by him.
Desperately, he'd tried to reach Adeline, hoping that she could give him some news of Charlotte, but her number had been disconnected. He'd asked Leah and Marshall to case the Financial District, hoping for a glimpse of her—and still nothing.
Would the trial even matter, really?
Mathers had proven that he held all the cards. He probably had enough pull to pay off the judges and if that was the case, then nothing Leah did mattered. When they received the court summons and read the three page list of charges being filed against him, she had looked utterly forlorn. Even so, she stayed awake day and night, compiling all the material she could in an effort to help him.
It was harder for her to understand his obsession with Charlotte. She didn't flirt with him, now. She only grudgingly reassured him that his own ass was far more precious than that of Charlotte Mathers. Even if she was in a prison, Leah argued, it was bound to be plush and guilded in gold.
Marshall took him out often, and they imbibed enough to make him forget his troubles until the next morning—at which point the gravity of his situation seemed to double.
“Man, you have to stop doing this to yourself,” Marshall said one night at a bar they had begun to frequent. “I know she means a lot to you, but you have to understand this Emerson son of a bitch. He is a cruel motherfucker, but he's not a murderer. Charlotte will be fine.”
At that point, they were both decently sloshed, enough so that they could say nothing to offend one another. “No, you have to understand. I let them take her.”
“There was nothing you could do. He probably would just have beat her more.”
David winced at the prospect. What was keeping the man from hurting her now? Exactly nothing, that's what.
“David, let's be real. I'm more worried about you than her. Don't get me wrong, I understand she was practically kidnapped by her adoptive father, but that man is trying to make you spend twenty years in prison. You do know that in twenty years, you'll be fifty, don't you? And atop that, a convinced felon?”
“As efficiently ruine
d as my father. Yep, Marshall, I got the picture.”
Marshall cursed and said, “No. That's not what I meant to bring up and you know it, man.”
David only fell into sullen silence, nursing his eighth whiskey of the night. Why was he even letting Leah consider this charade with him? Why was Marshall, for that matter? The man couldn't think they possibly had a snowball's chance in hell of winning the case.
“Don't give me that look,” Marshall said from across the table, fixing him with a look he'd probably intended to be stern. However, as sloshed as he was, it fell somewhat short of the mark.
“What look?”
“You look defeated, David. Like it's all over. For as long as I've known you, and through all the shit you've been through, I've never seen that look on your face.”
“Well, here it is.” David replied glumly, his heart so heavy it almost felt as if it were bearing him to the floor. “What look would you like to see, Marshall? Slap happy is a bit of an effort for me right now.”
“Well, Leah—”
“This isn't about Leah,” David cut him off firmly, “Leah's an excellent lawyer, and if I was going against absolutely anyone but Emerson Mathers, I would certainly win the case.”
“But, you are facing Emerson Mathers.” As he finished his statement, Marshall suddenly seemed just as glum as his companion. “Shit, David.”
Shit indeed.
From the beginning, David had known he was playing a dangerous game. Still, he'd never imagined that he would have lost so thoroughly. At this point, he couldn't even recall the cocky attitude he'd carried into Adeline's office with him. Where had that man gone? Certainly, Charlotte had molded him, changed him.
And Mathers had crushed him.
Even Marshall, with his infinite wisdom, resources, and his lawyer-sister hadn't been able to help him. He was certain once he was sober, he'd be back to his old optimistic self; but, deep down, David knew the truth.
They were finished.
They'd been negligent and allowed Mathers to sneak right up on them.
There was nothing they could do now but watch and wait.
Chapter Fifteen
One night, David sat alone at his dining room table beneath the dim light that hung overhead. He remembered how enthusiastic he'd been about moving to this place. He'd been his mid-twenties and still optimistic about his mother's recovery. He'd been so sure that if they just moved away from the place where all their troubles had occurred, she'd get better.
But he'd been wrong.
Now she was about to lose her only son. Who would take care of her while he was incarcerated? Certainly not Mathers. He'd probably happily send her to a loony bin and throw away the key.
In an instant, every angry thought he'd had about his mother where Emerson was involved melted away. She would probably die while he was in prison, and it was his fault for being blinded by the prospect of revenge.
Laying his head against the table, he sighed heavily, praying for guidance. What could he do? He had to try something, anything, to save her.
“David?” Exhaling hotly, he let his eyes close in exasperation. It was past ten o’clock. Was Leah still here? “David.”
Raising his head, the man prepared to let caustic words fly, only to have them die on his tongue.
Before him stood his mother.
And she had spoken.
“Mom?” he said, his voice hoarse with disbelief. He could only stare at her. Her eyes had lost their vacant staring look, and she was gazing at him in a mixture of grief and regret.
“My David.” Miranda Marscomb's voice was raspy from lack of use, but still very clear. “What have I done to you?”
“Mom, no, no.” Immediately, he stood, reaching over to grab her hand and hold it tightly between his own. To his shock and embarrassment, he felt tears welling in his eyes. “It wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault.”
“I abandoned you when you needed me the most.” Her own blue eyes were shining with moisture. “I went away into my own world and left my boy to fend for himself. I lay with a man who ruined my family and robbed me of my husband.” Her voice hitched on a sob. “He threatened me, David. I met him once, before your father and I married. Then, the next time we were face-to- face, he demanded my body in exchange for our welfare. What was I to do?”
David swept her into his arms, his rage toward Mather's flaring anew. “Shhh, Mom. Shhh. You did all you could. Mathers is a lying, cheating bastard. He has money and that's all.”
“But he's going to take my boy from me. My little boy. Maybe he's had him all along.” Miranda clung to him tightly, as if afraid that he was going to disappear. “You're so strong, David. So strong. Just like your father.”
And just like his father, he was under Mathers' thumb.
“I'm going to take care of you, Mom,” he swore lowly, “Before the trial date, I'll see you safe, I swear it.”
“It's not me I'm worried about.” Miranda let her son wipe tears from her face, as she shook her head. “It's you. You and Charlotte.”
David immediately flushed scarlet. Certainly his mother, if she had been cognizant at all, had picked up the details of everything that had happened as she wandered aimlessly around the apartment. The fact that she had garnered the depth of his feelings for Charlotte was somewhat embarrassing.
“She's nothing like her father,” Miranda said, holding David's hands tightly. “I can see it in her eyes.”
“He has her somewhere, Mom. I haven't seen her since they took her in Nassau.”
Miranda only nodded. “You have to find her.”
“But how?” David's voice was pained. “The trial is in less than a week, and Mathers will hang me. I can't do a single thing from prison.”
Just then, a loud knock came on the door and the young man cursed. Who could it possibly be at this hour? If it were Leah or Marshall, they were going to get an earful. “Give me a sec, Mom.” Stalking over to the door, David yanked it open.
Before him stood Adeline Reynolds, soaked from the storm outside. Next to her was another redhead, a man who he didn't recognize.
“Jesus,” cursed Addy, “I've been trying to shake my tail for weeks just to find you. Are you going to let me in or not Marscomb?”
Though the woman had once been all for throwing him out of the company building, her voice was one of the most welcome sounds he'd ever heard. Without hesitation, he held open the door to let the duo inside. No sooner were they over the threshold than he began bombarding Adeline with questions. “Where's Charlotte? Is she alright?”
Adeline tossed off her raincoat, turning around to face him in the front entryway. With no warning whatsoever, she lashed out and slapped him across the cheek. The impact stung and left him shocked, but no real damage was done. “Before I tell you anything I want you to know that I hold you personally responsible for this mess. Do you understand me?”
David knew better than to question her now—not when she had the information he so desperately sought. He merely nodded frantically, waiting with bated breath.
“You owe me, Marscomb. If I have my way you'll work for free in the department on that five year contract, mark my words.”
Once she vented her pent up rage, Addy took a deep breath before starting again. “Emerson is holding her at his estate on Long Island. She's under twenty-four hour surveillance, and guards are posted at the entrance of her room. That damned house is a fortress. There’s no way we get her out without help from the inside.”
By this time, David's mother had appeared from around the corner, her expression inquiring. Adeline's expression immediately screwed up in suspicion. “Who's that?”
David rolled his eyes. “My mother.”
“Your basket case mother?”
He merely glared at her, and she had the decency to blush. “I'm sorry, it's just that Charlotte mentioned that she needed professional help. She seems fine to me.”
“Why, thank you, young lady,” said Miranda, noddi
ng in her direction and making Adeline smile slightly before she got back to the matter at hand.
“There's only a week before the trial. If we could somehow get Charlotte out, I might be able to arrange for the two of you to be on the next plane out of the country. You'll have to go far and fast to escape Emerson's influence, but it could be done.”
“What about my mother?” David demanded, hardly daring to hope that they might have a shot.
“I'll take care of that.” Addy waved off his question impatiently. “The more pressing matter is how are we going to get someone into the manor? Emerson doesn't let anyone in without his personal say so.”
“What about a stockholder? I have a friend who has stock connections. Perhaps he could convince a Mather stockholder to work with us?”
“Too risky.” Addy shook her head. “Money could persuade him to switch sides, I think. We need someone we can trust. Someone Emerson trusts.”
“I could do it.”
They all looked to see the newcomer speaking for the first time. He had some sort of weird accent that David couldn't place. He stepped forward, and Addy glanced at him incredulously. “Samson? When Emerson finds you out, you know he's going to crush you. As easily as he made you, he could break you.”
“I'm sorry,” David interjected, a bit lost, “but who is this?”
Addy sighed in exasperation. “Don't you watch the news, lunkhead? This is Samson Causewell, current acting CEO of Mathers Incorporated.”
David immediately tensed. “Didn't Emerson put him in power?”
“He did,” Addy replied curtly, “but he was secretly taking direction from Charlotte until she went off on her little jaunt with you.”
David looked to the man in shock and Samson merely shrugged, coloring lightly. “I've run a few companies in my time but none in the manner that Emerson Mathers was asking me to. I came to the conclusion that there had to be a mistake. The organization ran much smoother when Miss Mathers was in power.”
