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Catch Me If You Can Novel Cover

Catch Me If You Can

At age ten, Jonathan Cooper pledged his life to her safety. By fifteen, William Reed had offered a matching vow of eternal protection. She spent years trusting these two guardians, never doubting their commitment. Yet, upon reaching twenty-three, her world shatters. The very men who swore to shield her instead cast her into the depths of the ocean. Driven by their devotion to another woman, they sacrifice her for the sake of their true love, leaving her to perish.
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Chapter 2

Even now, as I recalled it, I couldn't help but shiver, and my teeth chattered involuntarily.

Footsteps hurried outside the hospital ward, and soon Jonathan and William entered. Rebecca followed behind them and stood at the foot of my bed, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Ms. Davis, I'm sorry. I didn't know where to draw the line. I'll cover all your medical expenses. I just hope you can let this go and not hold a grudge against me."

Her voice was soft and sincere, a stark contrast to the Rebecca who'd proposed that reckless bet on the cruise.

My head buzzed, and I closed my eyes to block out the ache.

To Jonathan and William, though, it seemed like I resented Rebecca.

Jonathan stood by my bed, looking down at me from his usual aloof distance. Even though I'd almost died right before his eyes, it hadn't shaken him in the slightest.

But he hadn't always been like this.

I had been ten years old when Dad had taken me to the red-light district.

He had handed me a single red rose and said gently, "Cherry, remember, whoever takes this flower, you'll go with them. Do you understand?"

I hadn't asked him why. Seeing that tenderness on his face for the first time had left me speechless.

When I hadn't responded, he had grown agitated, grabbing my arm and shaking my frail body.

It was only at that moment I had recognized the father I had known all too well. He had been an alcoholic addicted to gambling and only knew how to hurt me and Mom.

After he'd beaten Mom to death and become burdened by a child he hadn't wanted, he had planned to sell me off.

I had seen it happen to others—girls clutching red roses, waiting to be taken away by strangers. If no one had taken the flower, they would be sold straight into the district.

One by one, people had walked by, yet no one had taken the rose from my hand. Dad had grown angry and cursed me for being useless.

"I should have ended you as well!" he had spat while dragging me toward the doorway.

Just then, a boy had taken the flower from my hand. He had barely looked at me when giving instructions to the bodyguard behind him to speak with Dad.

I had watched Dad accept a thick wad of cash, bowing and scraping as he had watched us leave.

The boy had taken me to a large house and had people teach me reading, writing, and manners.

But after that day, I hadn't seen him again, not until three years later. I had grown from a skinny child to a young woman, and finally, he had shown up.

He had still worn that calm expression, but his eyes had brightened when he had seen me. That day, I had learned his name was Jonathan, and he had told me to treat him as an older brother.

And I had. For ten years, I had stayed by his side.

Jonathan had once promised he would protect me all his life, that no one would ever hurt me again.

But now, he'd forgotten those words and reserved his care for another woman. Even as I lay here after nearly having drowned, he was defending someone else.

"Cherry, Becca just had too much to drink. She got carried away in the moment. Don't hold it against her." His tone was as indifferent as ever, his lips a thin line and his gaze emotionless.

My throat was dry, and I couldn't find my voice.

Jonathan frowned slightly with a hint of annoyance in his expression. "Cherry. Don't be childish."

So, my pain was just a childish tantrum to him.

I clenched my fists hard at the realization, my nails digging into my palm painfully.

He had once told me that by doing so, my heart wouldn't hurt as much.

I wanted to tell Jonathan I wasn't throwing a tantrum. I wasn't even angry. I simply wanted us to be done with each other.

But when I tried to speak, my throat hurt and no words came out.

William lost his patience, and whatever brief guilt he had felt earlier was completely gone.

"Charlotte, Becca has already apologized. Would it kill you to say something? What, do you think you're so precious? Can't even take a little joke?"

He added, "You've been living under Jonathan's wing for over ten years, and instead of learning anything worthwhile, you've become downright spoiled."

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