Fractured

“You will follow in my footsteps and that of your grandfather’s.” He pushes up from his desk, rounding it to stand in front of me. There’s tension in the room, it’s got a hold of me, and I know it’s not going to let go for a long time.

The problem is, he wants me to leave tonight, and that means I won’t get a chance to see Autumn before I leave. On her birthday. That is unacceptable, and my father knows it. Suddenly, my mind flits with recognition. That’s why he wants me to leave tonight. He knows about Autumn.

We’ve hidden our friendship for so long. For years, we had to meet only at school, until her mother allowed us to sit and do our homework in their dining room.

And this morning, I should’ve been more careful. It was stupid of me to think my father wouldn’t have me followed. We walked through the park, hand-in-hand, and I thought nothing of it because we had finally admitted our feelings.

But if he only found out today, how would he have figured out it was her birthday within the time she left me to the time I walked into his office? That was nothing more than five to ten minutes at the most.

“Please,” I plead, trying a different tactic. Perhaps if I calmed down, he’d see reason. I meet his eyes, the same ones I have, and yet, I see no affection in them. They’re nothing like mine.

One thing I learned early on about my father is he’s nothing more than a cold-hearted bastard.

“I’ve made my decision. You’ll leave tonight, and I also want to warn you, that girl you’ve been gallivanting around with, she’s not to come near you again. Do you understand me?” His tone turns dark, foreboding, and I know I shouldn’t answer him, but I do.

“She’s my best friend. You cannot—”

“I can, and I fucking will. If you want to know that she’s safe, you’ll stay away from her. Am I understood, James Dylan Montagu?” he bites out through clenched teeth. His jaw ticks with frustration and I’m tempted to punch him, to call his bluff, but I know for a fact my father has far too many contacts that could do something to Autumn.

“Just allow me to say goodbye,” I beg. This time, I fucking plead. I can’t just walk away. She’ll think I don’t love her, but I do. When she said, "I do," earlier, agreeing to the fact that she loves me, I knew I couldn’t walk away from her. I knew she would always hold my heart. No matter where I was or what I was doing, Autumn would own that part of me, and my body and soul as well.

I gave her my heart when I was eleven years old, and I never plan to take it back. Even if she tells me she doesn’t want me in her life anymore. I’m hers. I always will be.

“There will be no goodbyes. You’ll go home and pack, and if I hear that you broke my rules, I will ensure that your little friend never sees the light of day again.” The threat is clear, the warning ringing in my ears, but I don’t respond. I turn and storm out of his office, slamming the door so hard it reverberates through the rest of the space beyond.

Anger moves me forward. I don’t look at anyone around me; my focus is on the elevator. I will get a message to her. And he won’t know what I’ve done. I can’t just walk away without even letting her know I’m being forced out.

I don’t know how long my father has known about my friendship with Autumn. Perhaps he’s known all along. Maybe he watched from a distance until he knew there was no longer anything stopping us from being together. She’s eighteen, of age. I’m twenty-one. Nothing could come between us—except my father.

When I finally step out onto the street, I stop for a moment, breathing deeply as my father’s town car pulls up to the sidewalk. I’m tempted to tell the driver I’m taking a cab, but I know if I did that, Dad would know I’m going to see Autumn, and I can’t risk her safety.

“Take me to the house,” I tell the driver as I slip into the back seat and pull out my phone, but I don’t message her. I know he’ll have tapped my phone by now. One thing I know about my father is he has connections, and he’s resourceful. He will be watching me closely over the next eight hours.

I’ve wanted nothing more than to work for Jackson Cole, the owner of Cole Security. They’re a team of retired Navy SEALs that now offer security services, and I’ve wanted to join the team since I turned sixteen. I believed my father would allow me to live my own life, but being a Montagu, I realize now he will never allow me my freedom.