Page 31 of Claiming Charlotte

“Charlotte, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rowan said. “Why did you run away from me?”

He sounded hurt and giving him an answer wasn't an option. Pursuing my lips, I kept my eyes on the chair, and the shadows that reflected from the moonlight danced, giving it the effect of humor. The chair was laughing at me. I knitted my eyebrows together and walked around the desk, ignoring Rowan’s question. I felt his eyes boring into me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t do it anymore. This needs to happen, of all people he would understand.

“I hate this fucking chair,” I said through gritted teeth, picking it up, I walked to the window with it, though difficult. It was as heavy as my mind, weighing me down the further I walked with it.

With all my strength, I threw it at the paned window and smirked as the sound of shattering glass filled the room. Beyond, I heard the chair bounce off the eves of the floor below and bounce across the lawn beneath.

Now that there was nothing stopping it, a soft breeze pushed through the gaping window and caressed my skin, bringing my shivers back. My anger faded and I dropped to my knees at the edge of the sprayed glass. At this point being cut was the least of my worries, and my tears flowed. I had no intention of shoving down the sobs I had been choking down for weeks anymore.

“Lottie?” Rowan asked meekly after a moment of silence.

I sniffled and sighed. “You say that you’re here for me, Rowan, but you aren’t hearing me,” my voice came out in whispered tones. “I feel like I’m drowning, I’m reaching out for you, but I feel like you’re miles away. You don’t understand how hard it is to want to communicate but not want to become a burden to everyone around you; to want to feel you against me, to touch me, but feel sickened at the same time. You don’t…I was going to tell you…and I couldn’t wait to see you shine as a father.” I said with a shaky breath. “We were going to have a baby, and I fucked that up too. It’s a constant war in my head, and I feel like ending it would make everything stop— for everyone.”

He didn’t respond, and I used his silence to spur me on. “Do you still love me?”

Still, he remained silent, and I began to wonder if he was even there anymore. I scoffed, but I heard him move closer to me and then his warm hand was on my shoulder in some sort of comforting embrace. His touch broke me, and I finally told him everything.

“Rowan, I’m so fucked up,” I cried, pushing past the lump in my throat. “I wasn’t supposed to like it, but my body turned on me. Whatever they gave me made me want it, they forced me to come while you were being tortured. You were alone and crying, and I was having an orgasm. I'm a monster.”

His gasp was almost inaudible, and he pulled me into his arms. I fought against him, placing my hands on his chest to try and push him away, feeling disgusted with myself. I didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve his love or his comfort.

“Who am I, Roe?” I sobbed finally, giving up and relaxing into his embrace.

“Tell me what you need, Lottie,” He whispered into my hair. “I’m trying to help you, but I don’t know what you need. I can’t read your beautiful mind, and I need you to tell me how to make this better.”

“They need to pay for what they did,” I said as my tears subsided. “I wanted you to fuck me that night. Does that make me a bad person?”

Rowan peeled me away from his body and held my head in his large hands. His thumb traced my bottom lip as he stared at me, almost ravenously, as he shook his head.

“No, Charlotte. It makes you human. You craved affection after being abused, it makes you normal. You may not feel like it right now, but I promise you are not broken. And that loss was out of your control.”

I let him pull me to my feet, and he brushed glass out of my hair and from my knees. “Come, Charlotte. Let’s go to bed.”

The halls were silent despite the raucous of a shattering window, but I was grateful for it. The last thing I needed was for my men to see me being so vulnerable and how weak their new leader really was. Roe pulled me back into his room and shut the door behind us. It was closer, and I was too tired to complain.

I climbed under the covers and rolled to face away from him. His hand rested on my hip, rubbing small, comforting circles with his thumb; just letting me know he was there.

“Would you have fucked me, that night?” I asked, turning toward him, unsure if I wanted an answer.

“I don’t know, Lottie,” he said softly, and his words sounded almost pained. He didn’t seem to know the answer, himself.

I drifted off to sleep, hoping the next day would bring relief from the pain I'd internalized for so long.

15

ROWAN

Ilistened to the sound of her breaths as she slept. She didn’t snore but was on the verge of it, safe and relaxed. She was adorable, to say the least, she was being far too unkind to herself, and needed to give herself a break. Sleep gave her a peaceful aura, and her relaxed expression gave me hope for brighter days. She needed to let that out tonight and I was grateful she felt safe enough to be so vulnerable. When she said she wanted them all to pay, it gave me endless motivation to do what I needed to do, and my eyes moved to the files that sat on my dresser.

Charlotte had revealed just how deep her pain went, and I knew I could do nothing to save her from it. It was something she’d have to survive on her own, inside her head. Because though I yearned to be her protector, she was shielding me from the real pain, putting up a false front in order to protect me.

It was infuriating. I needed her to be vulnerable with me, and she had been tonight, but as soon as we left her father’s office, she shut down again. Will she ever let me in? I ground my teeth together, listening to the harsh squeak as enamel rubbed against enamel. Anxiety rose within me, and I knew I needed to leave the room if I wanted to make sure she got her sleep.

I slipped a shirt on and quietly exited the room, padding down the hallway until I reached the kitchen. I filled a glass with water and sipped at it before setting it down on the counter with a sigh. I flattened my palms against the cool surface and stared at the half-filled glass, wondering if that would forever be our life together, watching as the moonlight from the windows danced with the thousands of water droplets that spit out a mural of light onto my hands.

I can’t do this anymore, I thought bitterly, my eyes darkened and rage took over. I swept the glass off the counter and listened to it shatter against the floor. Making a fist, I began beating on the cupboards as if it were their fault everything happened the way it did. Pressboard and wood crunched under my unrelenting hand, and I ignored the pain in my knuckles as I went, growling my frustrations until I reached the end of the row of cabinets, punching, kicking, and ripping until I had nothing else to hit.

My breath heaved in my chest and my rage subsided as I realized what I’d done. Someone would ask questions. I ran a hand through my hair. Fuck it…. I thought, grabbing my stash and bringing it to the table.

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