by B L Mute
I read further. “Who is Lucas?” I look up and see him smiling from ear to ear.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie. I’m Lucas Hale, and this”—he points to the quiet one—”is my brother, Julius Hale.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I roll my eyes.
“Nope. You’ll be training with me, and don’t worry, after the stunt you pulled in the car, I won’t be taking it easy on you.” His eyelids lower and zero in on me.
“What if I say no?”
He laughs and turns to his brother, who has a smirk on his face. “No one tells him no.”
Do I really want answers that bad? I question myself. The answer is yes. At this point, I would do whatever it takes to figure out what happened to my dad, and as much as I hate to admit it, I feel Teddy can give me some answers.
“Fine,” I say, defeated.
Lucas nods at me. “I’ll let him know.” He looks past me and yells into the hallway. “Carl!”
The old man from the car appears in the doorway. “Show her to her room.”
He nods and gives me the same warm smile he wore earlier. I take a deep breath and question what I’ve just done. Realizing there is no turning back at this point, I walk slowly to the door. Carl, as I now know him, has taken a step back, allowing the presence of morals from decades ago to enter the room. More of a ladies-first scenario. I continue walking toward him, to appear superior yet feeling insecure all at once. I swagger through the door into the hallway. Once through the door, I look to the older gentleman for guidance in the navigation of such a big home. As he begins to escort me to my room, I hear a familiar voice coming from behind me.
“Training starts tomorrow, Flower,” Lucas yells.
I don’t acknowledge him. I just continue to follow Carl through the house until he stops in front of one of the many identical doors lining the front of the hallway. They are plain, yet stylish, with brass doorknobs and a vintage keyhole, like the ones on the front door. He glances behind him, making sure I am still there, before pushing the door open and stepping to the side again to let me enter the room first.
My dirty shoes sink into the plush white carpet. I stand there, analyzing the room. A king-size bed with four giant posts, which you can tell have been hand carved from the wood of a cherry tree, sits directly in the middle. It is neatly cloaked with satin sheets, giving way to an Egyptian cotton, royal blue duvet cover. It is embellished with lovely embroidery and textured details. Along the elaborate headboard are what appears to be down-filled pillows encased in celestial silk. It is truly breathtaking.
There are two doors to right and a small white vanity to the left. I glide toward the first door and open it. A claw-foot tub made of cast iron sits to the left of the bathroom, held up by golden feet. It is accompanied by a glass-encased shower with a marble bench built within.
I exit the bathroom and head to the other door. I push it open to reveal a closet fully stocked with shoes, dresses, pants, and T-shirts. I flip through all the clothes, looking at the tags, and sure enough, everything is my exact size. They are perfectly arranged and sorted by colors and attire type. It is clear someone put a lot of thought into this.
“I will be in the room right across the hall if you need anything, Charlotte.” Carl speaks from behind me. The sound of his voice startles me. I had gotten lost in the details of the room, forgetting that he was there.
I leave the closet and sit on the bed before giving him a nod. He leaves and lets the door close quietly behind him.
“What the fuck have I done?” I say out loud to myself. I lean back and let my body sink into the bed.
The glare of a new sunlit day enters my room with force from the window behind my new bed. I stretch my arms out to my side and take in a deep breath, realizing this may be the best sleep I have had in months. This is something I can get used to.
Just as the reality of my decisions over the past twenty-four hours begin to rush back into my head, a gentle tap comes from the other side of my door. I pull the blankets to my chin and apprehensively answer the knock. “Come in.”
Carl shuffles into the room holding a tray. It is piled with fluffy eggs, peppered bacon, a bowl of perfectly ripe fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee. “Good morning, Charlotte.” He smiles.
“Morning.” I scoot to the top of the bed, letting my back rest against the headboard.
“Are you ready for today? Lucas is already waiting for you to join him in the gym.”
“Oh yeah? Well, he can wait a little longer. I want to shower after I eat.”
Carl sets the tray across my lap. “I wouldn’t keep him waiting too long. These boys here have a temper.” He laughs.
I shove a forkful of eggs into my mouth. “Even the quiet one?”
“Most definitely the quiet one.” His smile melts away with his remark.
I nod, wanting to change the subject, but only for now. “Did you make this?” I motion my hand toward all the food.
“I had some help. No milk and three sugars in the coffee too.” His smile is back.
I shouldn’t be surprised that he knows how I like my coffee. They all seem to know everything about me while I still know nothing about them.
I don’t reply. I just push the food around the plate. It appears Carl can read my mind, because before I can say anything else, he swiftly exits the room.
I hurry and eat the rest of my meal, then push the tray to the empty side of my bed. With my coffee in hand, I walk to the closet.
I dig in the small drawers under the hanging clothes and pull out a pair of panties, socks, leggings, and a tank. If I’m training, I need to be able to move. On my way out, I snag a pair of Nike sneakers, clean ones unlike mine, from the floor of the closet.
With coffee in one hand and clothes in the other, I slide into the bathroom and let my clothes tumble to the floor. I place my mug onto the counter. It’s granite and of high quality. I turn toward the shower and open the glass door. The faucet is impeccable and appears to be of a high-grade brass. I turn it all the way to the right, making sure it’s scalding before I ease it gently back to the left. I strip from my dirty clothes and take every pin from my hair, setting them on the counter with my comb before stepping in.
I wash my face, then move to my hair and body. I don’t take my time like I usually do. I want to get to the gym and see Lucas. I have questions and I want answers.
Stepping from the shower, I pull a plush white towel hanging from a hook on the wall and wrap it around me, tucking the end piece in between my boobs. I pick my mug back up, take a big gulp, then set it back on its place on the counter.
The soft carpet warms my feet as I step back into my room.
“You will wear this today.” A deep voice startles me from beside the door.
I whip my head around, clutching my towel. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” I practically scream.
“I am making sure you’re prepared for today.”
Teddy is dressed in dark slacks, a button-down shirt, and suspenders. He turns and picks up a plain white bag from the floor. With his back almost completely to me, I notice the straps of a dark leather holster. As my eyes follow them, they make way to a Glock tucked neatly against his side. My heart beats faster, and my face grows hot.
Teddy turns back to me and tosses the bag to my feet. With my eyes on him, I reach down and grab it, rustling through its contents all while watching him the best I can.
“I can’t do anything in this dress,” I remark, pulling a long black gown and four-inch Louboutins out.
“That’s the point. When you go out with me, you will dress for the occasion. You need to train in the proper attire so I know you’re capable of not only concealing weapons but protecting yourself too.”
“Myself? I thought I am here to protect you.” I squint my eyes at him.
“That’s what I said,” he says nonchalantly.
“It isn’t.” I put the dress and shoes back into the bag, then test my luck by stepping c
loser to him. The look on his face is almost as if I’m circling a caged animal. On the outside he seems calm and collected, but his eyes shine dark.
“Why am I here, Teddy?” I question.
His stare never unleashes from mine, and I’m not sure if that excites me or terrifies me.
“I told you why you are here. I know what you’re capable of.” He tilts his chin but holds my stare, looking down the bridge of his nose.
I look at his face and really try and memorize his features. I know I’ve seen him before. He has got to be six foot three at a minimum, his dark hair has the slightest curl to it, and his eyes. I know those eyes. Striking blue, pure blue.
“How do I know you?” I question softly, hoping he will answer.
“I knew your dad. He was a good man who didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
My mind flashes every newspaper article and news broadcast I’ve seen since he’s died, trying to remember if maybe that’s where I remember him from.
“Did you do it?” My lip quivers, but I refuse to let any tears fall. It’s a suspicion I’ve had in the back of my mind ever since I was brought here. Why else would he want me here so bad?
“No.” He spreads his feet and crosses his wrists in front of him.
“You didn’t ask what I was talking about.” My voice is a whisper.
“I don’t need to. I’ve known the question has been there all along. I have simply been waiting for you to ask.”
“Do you know who did?”
“No.”
“No?”
“That is what I said, Monkshood.”
“Don’t call me that,” I spit.
The corner of his mouth raises slightly. “If you insist on calling me Teddy, I will call you what I want.”
I roll my eyes. “I want to add a stipulation.”
“Negotiation time is over.”
“I want to be the one who does it.” I cross my arms in front of me.
“Does what?” He raises a brow at me.
“I want to kill the son of a bitch who killed my father.”
He licks his lips, letting his eyes fall from mine for a split second to roam my towel-wrapped body. “That is a promise I can’t keep.”
“Then at least promise me you will find him.” I let my arms fall to my side. “Please.”
He stays quiet for a beat. “What makes you think I care about who did it?”
“Because, I know you. I’ve seen you. I don’t remember where, but I know I have. And something tells me you care.”
I search his face for any indicator that what I’m saying is true because at this point, I feel maybe I’m crazy.
He turns and opens the door, then pauses, glancing back at me. “I will find him.” He leaves the room without another word, and I stand alone watching the door close gently behind him.
I hurry and put on the dress and unrealistic heels before leaving the room too. Luckily, Carl is waiting by the door ready to escort me to the gym, a place I never would have found on my own. This entire house is like a maze. One wrong turn and you’re in a bathroom or broom closet.
I enter the gym, listening to the echo my heels send off the wooden floor and reverberate throughout the room. It is no different from any other gym really. You have your fitness equipment, towel baskets, courts and hoops, and of course your typical jock, who in this case we will refer to as Lucas.
“Well, look at you,” Lucas says, standing from a weight bench. “You clean up pretty nicely. Too bad you’re a bitch” He laughs.
I give him a fake smile and small chuckle before walking in front of him and kneeing his dick as hard as I can. “Didn’t your daddy teach you any manners?” I whisper in his ear as he bends over in pain.
My small victory is short-lived. Before I know it, he grabs me by my loose hair and yanks. This seems to be his favorite thing to do to me. What a sick fuck. Instinctively my hands go to his, holding my hair above his hands, as he pulls harder, making me arch my back in the wrong direction.
He leans in close to me and whispers back. “And didn’t your daddy teach you to never let your guard down?” He lets go, something I wasn’t expecting.
I stumble, trying to catch myself, but it doesn’t work in these heels. I’m flat on my ass in a dress worthy of a princess and shoes that cost more than my car.
“When someone gives you a compliment, you should take it, Flower. No one likes a stuck-up bitch,” he spits at me.
“Oh—” I jump back to my feet. “—I’m sorry. I didn’t realize a half-ass compliment followed by an insult was something to rejoice and be thankful for.” My words are laced with venom.
He circles me, watching every move I make. I return the favor, insistent he will not get one over on me again. “It’s good to be mad. If you fight just to fight, you’ll get your ass kicked. Fight for what you love and you’ll never lose.”
I drop my hands to my side. “Seriously? Now we’re moving on to motivational shit?”
“Careful, Flower. You don’t want to piss me off. I’m only trying to help you.” His tattooed arms twitch as his dark eyes grow even darker.
Tired of hearing him talk, I swing my arm in front of me, hoping to connect with his face, but he’s too quick.
“Feisty. I like it,” he remarks with a smile as he jabs his fist into my ribs. “I told you I won’t be taking it easy on you.”
I’ve always been pretty good about keeping my temper in check, but this guy is testing me. I straighten myself and let out a deep breath. “Tell me who you are,” I state as I lift my leg and swing it toward the back of his knees.
“Again Flower, really? I’m Lucas Hale. I’ve told you.” He wobbles for a second before regaining his composure. His fist flies toward my face too quick for me to block.
I close my eyes and brace for the impact, but it never comes. I slowly open my eyes again and see his tattooed knuckles hovering in front of my face.
“Boss said no damage to your pretty face.” He moves his hand and lets it fall to his side.
I take the opportunity to try and knock him down. I throw my entire body into his. We fall to the ground, but it doesn’t take him long to regain dominance and throw me on my back. He pins my arms to my side and straddles me. My arms may be pinned, but my hands can still move.
I bend my knee in an uncomfortable position to where my foot comes and rests right next to my hand. “I want to know what you all do,” I say, hoping to keep him distracted enough so I can make my next move. I push the back of my heel off with my fingers, then turn it around in my hand.
“You know what we do. You’ve seen it.” His face leans closer to mine. He’s so close I can smell the toothpaste on his breath.
“Tell me.” I move my face closer to his.
“Figure it out yourself, Flower. We all know you aren’t stupid.”
I smile, showing my teeth, before I plunge my heel into the back of his thigh. He screams out in pain, then rolls off me.
“You fucking bitch!” he yells.
I stagger to my feet and kick him hard in his side. “Daddy did teach me to never let my guard down. Maybe that’s something you should learn.” I huff. “Now tell me!” I scream.
A laugh bubbles from his mouth. It’s a sinister laugh. “We are businessmen, baby! No one fucks with us and lives to talk about it.” He jumps to his feet, and I stumble back.
The center of the gym where we stand doesn’t give me much coverage.
He limps toward me, blood flowing down his leg, leaving a trail in his wake. “And you already know this. Does making someone say it make it real? No one ever sees us in the public eye unless we want them to. No one ever identifies us by name. Why do you think that is, Flower?”
I stop cold in my tracks and let him get closer to me. Once there are only a few inches left between us, I ask him the same thing I asked Teddy. “Did you do it?”
He stops and straightens himself. “No.”
“Then who did?”
“That is
a question we intend to find the answer to.”
“Why? Why does everyone seem to care about my father so much? Why do you all care about me?”
“Because he was a good man. At least that’s what I’m told. I’ve never met him, but what the boss says might as well be the bible. He never lies. And as far as you? I just see you as collateral damage in the big scheme of things, so to speak. You will never mean anything to me.”
The declaration of his words sting. I shouldn’t care. He’s practically kicking my ass all while talking shit. He is the epitome of an egotistical asshole. He deserves nothing less than my wrath, but something tells me him and his brother have been put through the ringer. I’ve seen it all too much with my dad being a cop. Kids who’ve had it rough tend to lash out at anyone who resembles their assaulter. So, if I had to guess, I’d say he has some mommy issues.
I huff and turn on my heel. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”
I’m expecting his next move. He doesn’t like being pushed, and he sure as hell doesn’t like when his prey pushes back. I hear the movement and turn quickly. His good leg swipes at me, trying to knock me down, but I don’t let it happen. I block his attempt by using all my force to push him. He’s already one leg down with my handiwork, so getting him the rest of the way isn’t much of a challenge.
He falls to his back, letting out a whoosh of air as he hits.
I lean into his side right next to his ear. “And you”—I jab a finger into his chest—“will never mean anything to me.” I lean up and spit in his face before standing and hurrying out of the room before he can do any further damage to my aching body.
Although I try to hold back any emotions that may exhibit vulnerability, I feel I’ve just woken the beast, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.
I stumble back into my room and lean against the door as it closes. Resting my head back, I let out a deep breath. I was expecting Lucas to chase me, to do something other than just let me go.
Raising my head, I let out another deep breath. I try to make sense of it all by pacing. Businessmen? Businessmen? That makes no sense. The carpet begins to give way to my repetitive motions. Businessmen don’t carry Glocks. They don’t take in random women, basically against their will, and break them down to be used. It makes no sense.
