Page 89 of Claiming Charlotte

“Yes I was, but first, I was hired to be your mother’s bodyguard.”

“I've seen the pictures in your wallet daddy, and the hairstyle wasn’t it. What a scandal,” I laughed.

I was my father’s prodigy. He always pushed my education, keeping me away from the family business, little did they know I was doing my part. I snuck in places I shouldn’t during my brothers fights, or the races my sister and her boyfriend participated in. Rowan Anderson always made sure his kids were survivors, and that we knew every way out of a situation, and the scars that littered his body gave good reason why, although they didn't talk about the past much with us.

“Dad, my boyfriend will be joining us for dinner, mom said to invite him. Please don’t embarrass me.” I said nervously.

“Great, you can take his credit card then,” he teased, taking it back. “Thank you very much.”

“He doesn’t really do that,” I grumbled. I rolled my eyes and headed to my mothers office, with my father in tow.

As I walked into the office, I came face to face with my siblings, and three of their friends, and watched as my parents embraced before he took his post by the bookshelf. My parents looked so poised and professional, it was almost intimidating, Then my mother spoke.

“Thank you for joining us, please have a seat,” she motioned to the three empty seats before continuing. Although, I was surprised I was included at all. Previously, I had never attended a meeting. I was kept far away, or so they thought.

There were three others sitting in the room with us Oakley Davies, Grayson Ashwood, and Lorenzo Vitale. Lorenzo stared me down, like he wanted to devour me; but I would never do that to Casey. Masks sat in front of everyone but me, and I sat back, confused as to why I was even here, but listened anyway.

“For years, Arthur Davies, had run a task force to take down the auctions, and forcible sale of women and men in the area.” My mother started. “He has since retired and now it's time for the next generation to take over. These masks will become a part of you, when you are in it; you are a completely different person, with a mission to complete. You all need to learn to separate what you do out there and what you come home to. You will all see things that are inhumane, and downright immoral. It will eat you alive if you internalize it; trust me. These masks allow that; they hide who you are to keep you safe.”

Oakley respectfully raised his hand before addressing my mother. “Protecting us from what exactly?”

“It’s no secret that over the past decade the Walkers have slowly moved back into our territory and countless have gone missing, including some of our own. It's up to the six of you now. Rowan or I will give you orders and give you all information needed. And most importantly, stay alert, stay vigilant, and stick together. Rowan will debrief all of you soon, for now, get to know some of the men who have been with us, ask your mother Grayson; your father as well Lorenzo and Oakley.”

Maybe they just forgot mine. We all nodded and I huffed kicking the chair out to stand up, but I walked behind the crowd; as always. The pesky annoying little sister.

My father threw a whistle my way. “Come sit Gracie, I have something special for you.”

I sat down, eager to see what they had for me when my mother opened her desk drawer and fished around. She locked eyes with dad and smiled before reaching over to hand it to him, and he turned it over and over in his hands, reluctantly handed it to me.

I gave him a disgusted glance looking upon the smooth white surface. “It still has blood on it.”

His face darkened for a moment and he took a deep breath, looking like he went to another place for just a moment. “Gracelynn, that was my mask once upon a time, it helped me become the person I needed to be to save your mother, to eliminate everyone who hurt her. I want you to have this one. You are my best girl and I have no doubt you will make us proud.”

I looked upon the mask in shame. If only he knew. I couldn’t take this. It should have gone to Casey or Gianna, my dad was going to be so disappointed in me. I was twenty-two years old and I wanted a choice.

“Do I have a choice? I am not trying to sound ungrateful, it's just…”

“You always have a choice,” my mother cut in lovingly.

“Was it the Walkers who hurt you?”

They nodded in unison, but my dad kept his head down. And I decided I needed to tell him, and figure out what to do next. My eyes glossed over and I took my father’s hand. “Dad, I have to tell you something…” I whispered, but we were interrupted by a knock at the door.

One of my mother’s men announced that he was here and I immediately pulled my hand away, suddenly feeling clammy and my stomach knotted. I didn’t know.

Later that night we sat at the dinner table and enjoyed our normal teasing and general conversation. My mother thought it was important to do dinner every night, and I loved how close our family was. But everything was about to change.

“I didn’t catch your name kid,” my father called out. He was intimidated by my father, like everyone else, my legs shook uncontrollably, and I swore the whole table shook with my anxiety. I felt a hand on my knee rubbing soothing circles, and noticed the hand belonged to my sister. She was trying to reassure me that it would be alright; but we all knew my father.

I always wanted to be a part of the action, but right now, at this moment I wished I would have never gotten involved, and now I was afraid I was in too deep, I loved him. I don’t deserve his mask.

“Sorry sir, it’s Micah Walker.” he replied. The whole room went silent before a glass shattered.

“Rowan,” my mother scolded, grabbing a napkin, and tended to the small cuts he’d created. My father’s eye twitched as his face moved between the both of us.

I could tell the gears turned for my mother, but the haunting look my father gave will be etched in my brain forever.

In an instant he was across the table with such force, Micah was thrown from his chair and the two wrestled on the floor. My father had him on his back, both of his large hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing.

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