Page 1 of Claiming Charlotte

PROLOGUE

ROWAN

Sitting on my bike staring numbly at the house and willing my erratic breathing to slow, I raised my hand to my chest and rubbed slow circles, swallowing thickly. I didn’t hear a single sound coming from the house, and it was completely dark; no lights showed in any of the windows, which was disconcerting, given what I’d heard over the phone. Memories of hearing glass shatter and Lottie’s pleas as they dragged her away plagued me.

As I sat in front of Charlotte’s childhood home, I knew that she needed me just as much as I needed her, and I had no intention of letting her down. I ran my shaky fingers through my hair as her voice echoed through my head, bouncing around it like a pinball.

Face your demons Roe…

I recalled a memory— a great memory— of holding Charlotte in my arms. I intended to have a serious conversation with her about what was coming, what I told her merely scratched the surface when it came to the Walkers. She followed me out onto the balcony, and I wrapped her tight in my arms and dipped my head in the crook of her neck to whisper sweet nothings, to relax her tense frame. A vanilla scent wafted from her hair when I moved it to the side, and at that moment all I wanted was to have it engulf me. I promised her that I would fight for her, that I would protect her no matter what.

Coming out of the memory, the only sound I could hear was the rumble from the hot metal underneath me, and I internally hoped it would help calm my nerves. Big shock. It didn’t.

Come on, Rowan. Get off the damn bike and rescue your Princess…

Using that memory to propel my leg over the motorcycle, I stood stiff as a board and let out a breath before straightening up. It was time. Walker could torture me for the rest of my life if it meant Lottie was safe from him. I left the bike running, and I could still feel the vibrations of its engines on my inner thighs spurring me forward toward the house and the looming nightmare I’d find inside. She won’t hate you for something you can’t control man…. I chided myself, trying hard to cling to some positive thing in the whole situation.

I had to be strong for Charlotte. I didn’t know how I’d get her back or keep her safe, but the thought of Richard’s hands on her made me clench my jaw in anger, it's time to stop running. Just that morning I’d decided I would have to face my past to keep Charlotte safe, but it seemed as though my hand was forced then. From Lottie, to recovery, and even thoughts of my mother and what she would think was what drove me. So much work went into the last six years of my life, and right now, it’s threatening to crash down; right at my feet.

I didn’t have a choice anymore. I’d have to face the fact that if it came down to it, I would have to go back to the Walkers if I wanted to protect her. But would she still love me? Would she think I betrayed her? If only I could get past this mental roadblock.

Charlotte was about to discover the reason for my fucked-up past, and not by my words, in the flesh; and I had a sinking feeling that it would change our relationship forever.? Regardless of whether I could save our relationship, I couldn't let her succumb to Richard.

While forced to slowly become this ruthless leader, Charlotte still had an innocence about her personality. It was what sparked something within me from the start. She was too pure for all of this; she didn’t deserve it. Charlotte’s personality had sparked something within me that I never wanted to let go of.

I wouldn’t be able to keep moving if I didn’t forgive myself for my past, a flash of memories played in my head and the tears threatened to spill over. I looked to my left and saw a hollow slightly translucent version of my past self. He smirked and nodded before disappearing in a wisp of air from the wind. I couldn't protect her or myself back then, but I can now, and I would, even if it meant becoming the monster I had locked away for so long.

We may not come out of this the same, but anyone who even looked at her with lust filled thoughts was going to have their eyes carved out with a spork. Fucking stick, turn, and scoop motherfuckers.

As I ascended the steps, my heart pounded an unsteady rhythm in my ears, drowning out even the sound of the idling bike behind me.

Fuck.

I placed a shaky hand on the doorknob and twisted it open.

1

The door creaked open ominously and I stepped inside. Silence overcame me once more as the door clicked in the latch and cut me off from freedom, from the outside. Panic threatened to overtake me again, but I shoved it down and took a few steps into the dark foyer. It seemed darker than usual, but maybe that was just the effect of the coming dusk.

Regardless, it gave everything a gloomy tone as shadows crept across the floor. They seemed to be reaching for me, ready to catch me before I could fall further into my past. Perhaps they’d catch me and careen me down the hallway where I needed to go. Which one, I didn’t know, but I took a long steady breath; ready to find out. I might see you sooner than you wanted Mom.

All of us felt we were ready for this, even men who had been loyal to her father for years, yet nobody was anywhere to be seen; probably dead or hiding until Walker's men ambushed them. Swallowing the growing lump in my throat, I continued forward.

“My father is dead…” Charlotte’s terrified voice called out from the depths of my memories from the phone call that seemed so long ago, though it had only been a short time.

Somehow, I knew she wouldn’t be in her room, or even in the front of the house, but I called out her name in a whisper anyway. Something within me hoped that she’d been able to escape the clutches of Richard Walker, and I let my mind run away with the idea that I’d find her hidden away in a closet and we’d be able to sneak away undetected. Away from this life and starting the one we deserved. I’d give anything to have a child with Lottie; maybe they would have my hair and her beautiful eyes. The perfect mix of two broken people that happened to find something worth living for in one another. Whether our children were biological or not, I would love them all the same and protect them just as fiercely as I do Charlotte.

While a hopeful fantasy, it was too good to be true. I knew from experience that Walker had his men placed at strategic locations all over the house, hiding and waiting for their cue to jump into action. Walker and his men were slimy, sneaking little bastards, always hitting you where it hurts the most.

“Charlotte,” I called out again, a little louder this time. Keeping to the shadows, though futile, made me feel safer.

Concern rose within me at just how silent the house really was, you could hear a pin drop from a mile away. Passing her bedroom, I reached around to my waistband quickly realizing that my gun was buried under the rubble of my home; left on the coffee table.? Where the hell are the staff? Where are Jace and Nikki? Anybody?

It was just too eerie, and dread slithered over me as I approached Mr. Bennett’s bedroom. The glass crunched under my feet as I moved around the room searching for anything that might give me a clue as to where they dragged her to, and I was getting worried; there was nothing.

Rubbing my hand through my sweaty hair, my eyes scanned over a body that lay in front of the closet and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who it was. Mr. Bennett. I looked around the room trying to get a mental picture of what could have happened. The mirror was on the opposite end of the door, which meant she must have been on the opposite wall. My eyes darted to the floor noticing a trail of blood that started near the shards of glass, and went into the hallway. She must have been fighting them. One of them smashed her head into the mirror, then they dragged her down the hall, to god knows where.

Clenching my jaw, I took the sheet off Mr. Bennett’s bed and kneeled down laying it across him.

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