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She holds out her hand and we shake. “My name is Helen, by the way. How do you like Ivymore?”
I take a minute to think. “I like my classes, and the people here are nice.” I match her gaze and honestly tell her what I think. “It’s a change from boarding school, but I’m glad to be here. I feel that I made a great choice.”
“Good. Are you thinking of pledging?” she asks with genuine interest.
I sort of nod. “Wren’s enthusiastic about it. She considers Theta the best.”
“I think you should,” says Helen. “Theta is a sisterhood, and we support each other to excel in what matters. And you are Theta material. You won’t feel adrift with Theta to back you up.”
“Do I look adrift?” I ask.
“You look like you have a lot running through your mind. Ask me about it if you’re interested.”
“Thanks.”
She looks over her shoulder when someone laughs. “Good luck, Charlotte.”
Helen returns to the living room, and I lean against the wall in the hallway alone. I feel like a black hole of energy, sucking the life out of everyone’s good times. In the kitchen, I grab a cup and rinse it out, filling it with water. And then I step outside. It’s already dark, but someone has replaced the floodlight on the patio. The old metal chairs now have cushions, and mine squeaks when I sit down. It’s cold out, but the chill sobers me up, and the cold air feels good against my flushed face. I didn’t expect much from the party, but I also didn’t expect less than nothing.
“Hey, Charlotte, looking for company?” Hudson grabs hold of the chair beside me and pulls it out. He sits down, abruptly ending my quest for solitude.
“No, and especially not yours.”
“Well, you have it.” His index finger pressed against the cleft in his chin, Hudson smirks as if he’s appealing. He leans back in the chair in that guy pose with his legs spread apart as if he can’t breathe with his legs closed.
I scoot forward. “I’m going.”
He reaches out quickly and grabs my forearm, pulling me back down into my seat. “No, because I want to talk,” he says in a firm voice.
I stumble backward into my seat while his hand grips my arm a little too tight. I try to yank free, but he grins when I glare at his crushing grip and then at him. Hudson shines that calculating smile, and I swallow hard. He’s too damn good-looking when he’s playing, and my eyes catch on his.
Hudson is right. If I still had a father, Hudson would be the one I’d take home to introduce. He checks off all the boxes on the perfect SO list. He’d be welcomed into any billionaire family with open arms, and the day after the zillionaire wedding, I’d be pregnant with son number one. Or he’d wear me out trying. He’s husband material, but that look tells me that I’d be trapped in hell forever. He’d never let me escape once he claimed me.
I tug harder, and my arm is free. I don’t leave as I had threatened, but I glare at him as if he’d better never touch me again. His smirk turns into a wide grin. He has me.
“Please don’t start asking me about Stonehaven again,” I tell him coldly. “You are being a real bore.”
“I want to talk about the past,” he says, “but not about high school. There’s a very good reason why you should remember me.”
I can barely see his eyes in the growing darkness, but I can feel his stare burning holes into me. “Well, why should I know you?” I ask.
“Because of your negligent father,” he replies, “And because of him, I’m going to make your life an inescapable hell as long as you are in my sights.”
A chill starts at my feet and slowly moves up my legs, along my spine, until my head shakes with a shudder. Eckhard. Realization hits me like lightning. I do know him. It’s been forever, and Hudson has grown up, but I do remember him. His father was a major donor to the hospital until he died on an operating table in the same wing named in his honor.
“I had to withdraw from Stonehaven,” he continues. “My mother spent our family fortune trying to get your father convicted of negligent homicide. My father’s operation was a simple procedure, so how did Howland botch it? Does he drink? Or maybe he smokes the good stuff? Could it have been drugs? He was probably high on a prescription when he cut into my dad.”
“I don’t know. How would I know?” I grip onto the arms of the chair.
“You lived in the same house with that scum for part of the year, at least.” His face twists as he leans in toward me. “You must have seen something. What really went on at home, Charlotte?”
“Howland is too uptight to do anything,” I insist. “Most of the time.”
“Most of the time.” He nods his head, but the menacing expression is less than understanding. “I’m guessing that fucking around was Howland’s drug of choice.”
“It’s my mother he cheated on.” I try to leave again, but he grabs my hand and yanks me over onto his lap. I struggle against him, and I fight harder when he runs the tip of his nose against the length of my neck. “What’s wrong with you?” I gasp.
“The smell of fear gets me off.” He holds me tighter, and I have to stop or he’ll squeeze the air out of me. “Sorry about your mother,” he whispers, “but at least Howland didn’t kill her.”
