Page 13 of The Mistake

Even Cassie had said I didn’t seem to have any self-preservation. In short, I was fucked.

“Solong as they swear loyalty to you?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“And allI have to do is have your back?”

Ivan chuckled. “There’s a little more to it, but in essence, yes. You’ll have my back, as you will Ive’s.”

Glancing down at the table, I couldn’t stop thinkingabout that damn cell phone. I didn’t ask Rage to help me.

“You made a mistake, didn’t you?” I asked.

Ivan didn’t say a word.

“With me.”

He was still silent.

“I couldn’t help but wonder why you’d pick me. Everyone knew my father hated me. You had to getRage on your side. You were meant to get Cassie, weren’t you? She’d have been perfect for your plans.”

“It didn’t play out how I intended, but believe this, Charlotte, I’d have never allowed Cassie to marry Ive.”

“Why not? She’s perfect for him.”

Ivan clicked his tongue. “She’s far too entitled and a princess for him.”

“And what am I?”

“Damaged enough for him to try,” Ivan said.

“Damaged,” I repeated the word.

“I saw the scars on your back.”

Lifting my head once again, I stared into his eyes. Ivan was a scary man. I’d looked at him a few times and been frozen in fear, but that hadn’t stopped me from looking. He was handsome, but there was a coldness wrapped around him. He had the sweet smiles and almost the innocent look, but it was all fake, every single bit of it. There was nothing loving or sweet about this man. Trust me, I knew. He and my father had a lot of similarities.

“They’re just marks of a time in my life. They don’t mean anything.”

“Because he called youTrash?”

I shrugged. “Trash doesn’t get to have feelings. It doesn’t have a voice. It doesn’t complain. It’s just trash.”

“You’re not trash, Charlotte.”

“I know, but it makes life easier, doesn’t it?”

“What does?”

“If you believe you are trash.An inanimate object that has no value or meaning, tossed aside because it’s worthless. It makes the punches less painful. It makes everything not seem so unfair. You don’t get locked in your room and forgotten if you mean nothing. You eventually stop crying, because it doesn’t matter. When he looks at you, and through you, it doesn’t sting. You just live, but wait for that moment when you’re grabbed and thrown aside once again.”

Staring into his eyes, Ivan looked right back at me, and in an odd way, I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was talking about.

His fingers tap against his thigh. No words are spoken.

Saying those words aloud, I think about my eighteen years of life. I never had a great birthday or Christmas. In fact, Rage was the only person to remember my birthday, and he told Cassie. I didn’t know it, until they started to present me with a card or a gift. The presents had to be small. If my father ever saw them, he’d destroy them.

At home, my bedhad been taken from me. I had a used mattress from the club on the floor. Used bedsheets. Even my curtains had been destroyed. He wanted me to have nothing. His hatred for me had bled from his pores.