Page 1 of Big Bodyguard
Chapter One
Charlie
I barely recognize the girl in the mirror.
My dress clings to me like it has no business doing—it’s short, black, the neckline plunging low enough to make my cheeks burn just looking at it.
I’ve never worn anything like this before. I’ve never been allowed to. My father would probably lock me in a tower if he knew I’d even bought a dress like this, much less that I’m standing in it now, painting my lips scarlet like some femme fatale from the movies.
The lipstick trembles slightly in my hand. Not from fear—not exactly—but from the rush of emotions clashing in my chest. Excitement. Nerves. Andfreedom. At last.
I lean closer to the mirror, trying to convince myself that I can pull this off. That the girl with the bold red lips, the sinful dress, and the legs that go on forever, is really me. Charlotte Freeman.
I shake my head, a small smile playing on my bright red lips. It still feels impossible that I’m here, in this nowhere town an hour outside of DC, tucked into a budget hotel room with a bedspread that smells faintly of bleach and air freshener. Nobody hereknows my name. Nobody looks at me and sees “The Sheltered Princess: Only Daughter of Senator George Freeman.”
There’s no paparazzi, or cameras flashing everywhere I turn. And to crown it all, I’m away from my dad’s team of bodyguards, who watch me like a hawk all in the name of protecting me from invisible threats and enemies.
For the first time in twenty years, I can breathe.
My whole life has been glass walls and security details, smiles practiced for photographs, and a father who never let me out of his sight. I never went to parties. I never had sleepovers. Never even had a boyfriend—because who in their right mind would want to date the girl with five to ten bodyguards shadowing her every move?
Finally, last night, I found the courage and opportunity to run. I grabbed my suitcase—already packed months ago—a wad of cash from my allowance, and my camera. The camera is my one indulgence, the thing that’s kept me sane all these years. The only thing left of my mom…
My chest tightens at the thought of her.
Not tonight…
I cap the lipstick and press my lips together, blotting them on a tissue until they’re perfect. I stare at my reflection again, noting the doubt lurking in the depths of my eyes, just beneath all that glam and pretend confidence. I can almost hear my dad’s voice in my head, lecturing me about the dangers of being reckless.
“You’re my only daughter, Charlie…”
I shake my head, as if to dispel the echoes of his words.
I’ll go back home eventually. I just need to know what a week of freedom tastes like. Maybe two.
And right now, my dad isn’t here to stop me. That’s the whole point of running away.
“Tonight,” I whisper dramatically to myself in the mirror, my lips curving upward in a smug smile, “I party.”
I giggle, feeling a sudden rush of giddiness in my chest. Then I grab my purse, double-checking the fake ID I got from a friend, and head out of the room.
When I slip out of the hotel lobby, the cold night air hits me like a wall of reality, and I feel the doubts rushing back at me.
“What are you doing, Charlie?”Dad’s voice echoes in my head.“It’s not safe!”
I swallow nervously, pushing away the thought alongside the feeling of guilt crawling up my throat.
“I’m doing this,” I mutter to myself, straightening my shoulders as a cab slows at the curb. I grip my purse tighter and force myself forward. If I back out now, I’ll never forgive myself.
The driver looks me up and down as I slide into the back seat. His brow arches, but he doesn’t ask questions. “Where to?”
“Take me to the nearest club,” I mutter, ignoring the acceleration of my heartbeat.
Ten minutes later, the taxi pulls up in front of a building with a neon sign that I don’t bother to read. The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror. “We’re here, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” I mutter as I pay him and then slide out of the car.
Too loud.That’s the first thought that comes to my head as I step into the building. I can literally feel the floorboards rattling beneath my heels.
