Page 1 of Shadowing Charlotte
Chapter one
Charlotte
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Daddy asked as I loaded the last box into the back of the Jeep, letting out a soft grunt as the heavy books made it rock. "You can commute."
"Daddy, I'm not driving an hour to work every single day." An hour wasn't that long to drive, but it wasn't just about the commute. I needed space. "I'll come home on the weekends," I assure him.
Liar…I knew I wouldn't be back every weekend. I couldn't wait to get away from him and his overprotective antics. Not that he wasn't a great father. He was. But ever since momma died, he'd circled around me like a hawk, waiting with sharp talons to rip apart even the smallest whiff of a threat.
Moving meant I wouldn't have to sneak out at night anymore, despite being a grown adult. Over the last few years, I'd grown skilled at it. Overprotective parents create sneaky children.
Moving also meant I wouldn't have to keep up pretenses. No more making excuses to avoid friends. No more forced smiles and pressure to fit in.
It wasn't just my father that I wanted to escape. I wanted to get away from the life I was trapped in. Fake friends, forced smiles, and all the other shit I did to fit in with the rich assholes I'd been surrounded by since I started private school at fourteen.
I'll be back when I'm ready…
"I'm going to hold you to that, sweet pea," he replied, chucking me under the chin. I smiled, standing on my toes to peck his cheek.
"I love you…" I whispered, letting out a happy sigh.
"Love you, too, peapod," Daddy replied as I pulled away.
His shoulders sagged when I turned to close the trunk. I knew he would miss me, and I would miss him, too. But I needed to do something with my life. I needed to be allowed to live on my own terms. Pulling the sunglasses from the neck of my tank top, I slid them on, giving my father one last reassuring smile.
"Call me?" I asked brightly.
"Every single day," he replied tightly. He was trying not to cry. No one else would notice by the sudden stiffness of his posture, but I could see the dismal look in his brown eyes.
I climbed into the front seat, adjusting the mirror and letting out another relieved sigh. As I started the ignition and put the Jeep into drive, I felt it, that familiar prickling along the back of my neck. After almost two years, I'd almost begun to anticipate the feeling. Every time the sensation hit me, it felt like touching live wire. I glanced around the vehicle and looked in the mirrors, just in case, but he was nowhere to be seen. He never was. But I knew he was watching me.
He was always watching me…
Chapter two
Alexander
(two years earlier)
The first time I saw Charlotte Emmerson, I knew it wouldn't be the last. Call it instinct, or perhaps obsession, but I knew.
She'd opened the door wearing a tiny bikini, her skin glistening like she'd just come out of the water. It took everything in my power not to rake my eyes over her entire body like some kind of desperate creep.
"Can I help you?" she asked with a sweet smile, leaning against the front door of a house I could never dream of affording.
"I called." Fuck, I choked on my words, feeling completely disarmed. Her little auburn eyebrow cocked at me, looking every bit like the spoiled princess she probably was. "The Camaro…" I finally added, feeling like a fucking idiot.
"Right," she replied, her eyes widening slightly, gesturing for me to come in. "Daddy! A man is here about the car!" she shouted through the house. I couldn't help but stare as I looked around. The entryway was huge, but sparsely decorated, the way rich fucks always presented their homes. "He'll be right out. Do you want a water or something?" she offered. I shook my head, unable to feel my tongue.
I wanted her. I knew it was wrong. She was young, only a teenager, I guessed. I was likely five years her senior, perhaps more. I felt like a pervert, my eyes sticking to her like melted sugar as she sauntered away.
It wasn't even her body, even with her curves in all the right places, that made me want her. It wasn't her long cinnamon hair that I felt the urge to grip in my fist. It was something in her eyes, those eyes that I'd only been able to look into for a few seconds. They were a rich amber, like hot honey that melted my insides.
"You must be Alexander." I tore my eyes away from the hall she'd disappeared down and cleared my throat as a man approached me.
"Yes. You're Timothy?"
"Just Tim," he replied, reaching out to shake my hand. We engaged in small talk for a few minutes, but I wasn't truly listening. I was watching the hallway and hoping she would come sauntering back in and smile at me the way she had when I arrived. "Do you want to see it?" I blinked at him, my vision suddenly focusing, like I was waking from a dream.
