by Cheree Alsop
The Million Dollar Gift
By Cheree L. Alsop
Copyright © 2012 by Cheree L. Alsop
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN
Cover Design by Andy Hair
www.ChereeAlsop.com
To my husband, Michael Alsop,
Whose love helped make
This Christmas story possible.
To my family for filling every
Corner of our home and lives
With laughter and joy.
I love you!
Chapter 1
Chase rolled over slowly. The motion awoke the pain in his bruised muscles and he stifled a groan. They would be back. Torn’s men didn’t give up so easily. They must have gotten distracted by something. He pushed to his feet and brushed off the grimy snow that clung to the garbage and dirty pavement. It would be best to be gone by the time they returned. He began to backtrack down the alley when a scream stopped him in his tracks. The distraction.
Chase hesitated. Pain coursed from his right knee where a kick had caught it. He could already feel it swelling. His head throbbed from the numerous punches it had intercepted, and a sharp pain ran through his side with each breath. There was something sticky on the side of his face from his forehead and he feared the darkness of his vision was more from the blows to the head than the rapidly falling night.
No one would blame him for running; in fact, no one would even know. That’s what comes from getting caught in the bad part of the city. It was each person for him or herself, and no one cared what happened anyway. He took another step away, a step toward his escape. A second scream sounded. Chase’s eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath, then cursed softly at the pain in his ribs. The air fogged white when he breathed out. He turned back.
“Help!” the yell was muffled but feminine and under definite duress.
Chase ran down the alley toward the sound. He limped on his injured knee, cursing his own stupidity for actually searching for the guys that had done this to him. His heartbeat quickened at the sound of the voices.
“Hold still, stupid girl!”
“Leave her alone!” a young boy’s voice called, followed by the sharp sound of a slap.
“Keep him over there!”
Chase slowed when he neared the corner; self-preservation screamed for him to go back. They’re being hurt because of me, he reminded himself. He was amazed at his own twisted sense of honor. He gritted his teeth and stepped into the fading light of the dead-end alley.
“Let them go.” The words sounded gravely from his dry throat.
Surprised, the three men backed away from a young woman and a small boy Chase guessed to be about six. Then, seeing their original victim, they began to laugh.
“You must be a glutton for punishment,” the first man, Jax, said to Chase. He grabbed the girl again and twisted one of her arms tightly behind her back. She winced, her eyes on the young boy.
“Torn said to make you pay, but he forgot to mention you were stupid!” another man said, taking a step toward Chase.
Chase tensed. “Let them go,” he repeated. “You’re here for me, not them.”
Jax chuckled, a deep, haughty sound. “Correction. We were here for you, and we will finish you at our leisure; but currently, we are enjoying ourselves with this delicacy James found on Fifth Street.” He shoved the woman against the wall and eyed her up and down.
“Leave her alone,” Chase growled. He took another step forward.
This time when Jax turned back to Chase he pulled out a wicked-looking knife. Chase stopped. “You may be foolish enough to get tangled in Torn’s web,” Jax said, his gleaming dark eyes bored angrily into Chase’s, “But this doesn’t concern you. Walk away while you still can.”
The girl took the opportunity of his distraction to run to the corner where the boy knelt in the dirty snow. Jax glared at her. At a snap of his fingers, one of the other men grabbed her and hauled her back over. When she struggled, Jax slapped her.
Anger filled Chase with adrenaline. They caught him by surprise the first time; now, with other lives on the line, he didn’t plan to go down so easily. He picked up a broken table leg from the litter on the alley floor and ran forward. The man closest to him had turned to watch the girl. He spun at Chase’s footsteps but was too slow. The table leg caught him along the side of his head and he crumpled silently to the ground.
The next man was ready. He ducked under Chase’s swing and punched him in the stomach. Chase doubled over; the man elbowed him in the back and Chase fell to his knees gasping for air. The man brought back his leg to kick Chase in the stomach, but Chase turned and smashed him in the groin with the table leg. The man fell to the ground, his eyes wide with pain. Chase used the table leg to push himself back up.
“We should have killed you when we had the chance,” Jax said.
Chase nodded grimly. “Yes, you should have. Lucky for you, I called the cops before I came back here.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You lie.”
Chase shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. “You can hang around to find out.”
“And why would it be lucky for me that you called the cops?”
Chase allowed himself a grim smile to belie his thundering heartbeat. “They’ll keep me from killing you.” He kept his expression calm and hard, praying that the man wouldn’t call his bluff.
At that very moment, a siren sounded in the distance. Jax looked from Chase to the girl, and then to his men. He shoved the girl away and grabbed the closest man’s arm to pull him to his feet. “We’ve gotta go.”
Chase’s chest heaved as he watched them pick up the third man and disappear around the end of the alley. A few minutes later, they heard the growl of a car engine followed by a squeal of tires as the men sped away.
The girl was already next to her brother, checking him quickly over for injuries. “Are you okay?” Chase asked quietly.
The girl straightened and stood in front of the boy. “Stay back,” she warned, her green eyes sharp with anger and humiliation.
Fog formed from her breath, reminding Chase of the cold that now seeped into his bones as the adrenaline left his body. His knees threatened to buckle. He backed to the alley wall and leaned against it for support. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She eyed him suspiciously. In the dim light of the alley, Chase guessed her to be only a year or two younger than his own twenty-three years. Her long, straight brown hair was pulled back into a simple pony tail, but strands had come loose during her struggle.
She wore a green long-sleeved tee shirt with a khaki jacket and blue jeans. The boy, her brother he guessed, wore a light blue tee-shirt, a blue jacket, and khaki pants stained from the filthy snow. He held his sister’s hand tightly, his green eyes wide under tousled towhead blond hair. It was clothing for a quick trip out; they obviously hadn’t planned to stay this late.
The young woman pulled her jacket closer, her gaze changing from suspicious to critical as his part in the evening sunk in. “When was the last time you ate a decent meal?” she asked. Her voice was almost steady, her expression hard in order to hide the terror of the past few minutes.
The question took Chase by surprise; a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “A while,” he responded. A slight frown pursed her lips. He glanced at a broken mirror leaning sideways against the far wal
l, seeing himself as she saw him. His clothing, once bought at Charo’s Finest, was torn and dirty, the white shirt tie-less and missing buttons, and the gray, used-to-be suit pants ripped at the knees and crumpled from sleeping in odd places over the past couple of weeks.
He had a month-old beard, and his black hair was longer than he usually kept it and hanging in front of his blue eyes. One eye already sported a growing black circle while a gash above his left eyebrow was clotting with dark, dirty blood. He touched it gingerly, then winced at the memory of a boot to the face before he blacked out earlier. He wouldn’t trust himself in this shape, he realized. He shoved his hands in his pockets, then took them as his swollen knuckles throbbed angrily. Weariness filled him and he leaned against the wall again.
The girl edged past with her brother’s hand clutched tightly in her own. She was scanning the alley, her brow creased.
“What are you looking for?” Chase asked curiously.
“My purse; I have a cell phone,” she explained. She threw him a challenging look. “Unless, of course, you really did call the cops.”
Chase shook his head, then put a hand to it as the world continued to spin. “No. I’m just glad they believed me. I’m not so sure I could have handled Jax again. Of course, it’s not like I did so well the first time.” He gave a wry smile, then glanced up to see her staring at him incredulously.
She met his eyes for a minute, then turned away. They disappeared around the end of the alley still searching in the snow for her purse. Chase sighed, then pushed off the wall and limped slowly after them. It wouldn’t do to be waiting around if Torn’s men decided to grow brains and realize he didn’t have a phone to call the police with.
“Dad, it’s me. No, we’re okay. I’ll tell you about it when we get home.” She held her purse, a small, white thing that had been thrown carelessly into a pile of garbage at the mouth of the alley. Both she and the boy looked calmer now that safety was in sight. “No, Dad, don’t come out here. I’ll get a cab. Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I love you.” She hung up the phone looking relieved and smiled down at her brother. “Matty, let’s go home.” The boy nodded excitedly. She dialed another number and gave the address of the street sign they stood under.
When she saw Chase watching them, her brow creased almost imperceptibly. “Do you have somewhere to go? You need to get your head looked at.”
In more ways than one, Chase thought. “I’ll be fine,” he said aloud, though the dark spots dancing in his vision threatened otherwise. He limped slowly toward the street light they stood next to at the mouth of the alley. The light made a circle in the thin layer of snow that covered the sidewalk. In the light the snow looked clean, pristine even, but when the sun rose, the few rays that reached between the decrepit buildings would reveal the dirt and debris that never left the derelict side of the city.
She shook her head, her frown deepening. “No, you won’t.”
Chase’s brow furrowed in exasperation. “I can take care of myself.”
She made a show of looking him up and down. “I can tell,” she replied. “You’d better come with us.”
Surprised, Chase brushed his hair back from his eyes. “With you?”
She shrugged. “My mom’s a nurse. She’ll take care of you.” Chase wondered if that was supposed to sound as ominous as it came out. “Besides,” she continued, “we can’t leave you here in your condition after what you did for us.”
Her tone left no room for argument. The boy, Matty, looked from one to the other. He smiled at Chase, obviously used to his sister’s obstinate ways.
“Um, okay?” Chase said as more of a question than an agreement. He was confused as to what he had just accepted, and the pain-filled fog in his throbbing head wasn’t making things easier.
“Good,” she replied. She took Matty’s hand again and waited for the taxi. After a second, she turned back. “I’m Clara,” she said, “And this is Matty.”
“Chase,” he replied. “Pleased to meet you.”
She gave him an exasperated look and turned away as though she didn’t know how to deal with him.
Chase smiled and leaned wearily back against the wall to wait for their ride. He didn’t know what he would find when he got there, but it had to be better than a stone bench and another cold, sleepless night.
The taxi pulled up a few minutes later and the driver had the sense not to ask what they were doing at the worst part of the city. Clara motioned for Matty to climb inside first; she followed and waited for Chase. He was about to refuse, then a sound in the alley made him change his mind. He climbed in slowly, favoring his injured knee.
Clara gave him another appraising look and pulled a handful of tissues from her purse. She pressed them to his head and he grimaced, then put his hand up to hold the tissues in place. His fingers brushed hers and she pulled her hand away quickly. A faint blush colored her cheeks. He gave a small smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. She turned toward Matty and Chase leaned his head against the window.
“Do you often invite strange guys to your home?” Chase asked a few minutes later. He glanced at her sideways from half-closed eyes.
A smile tugged at the corner of Clara’s mouth. “Only strange men who save my brother and I from bad people.”
Chase nodded and closed his eyes again, resting his head back headrest. “Fair enough. I guess you can assume I mean you no harm or I would’ve just let Jax take care of it.”
“Exactly.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
They eventually pulled up to an older house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The house had its own style separate from the others that filled the neighborhood. The sprawling, snow-covered lawn revealed a big, wrap-around porch, a mailbox shaped like a swan, children’s toys, a wagon, and various lawn ornaments peaking from the snowy blanket, and an elaborate cement doe in a corner surrounded by what would be tulips in the spring. The neighborhood was surprisingly quiet and comfortable nestled in the heart of the community.
When Chase stepped gingerly out of the cab, he glanced back over his shoulder to see the looming buildings like sentry giants keeping watch over the residential streets a few blocks away. But instead of feeling claustrophobic, the effect was almost peaceful, safe amid the hustle of the never-sleeping city.
A bout of dizziness swept through his thoughts and he leaned against the taxi for a moment to get his bearings. The pounding in his head had increased until he could barely think. He knew he shouldn’t stay at Clara’s house, but with the state of his thoroughly pummeled body and sore knee, he wouldn’t get far. A cold breeze swept down the street and a shiver ran up his spine. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Clara paid the taxi driver without looking at Chase; he felt a faint twinge at not being able to cover the fare. The front door to the house opened as the cab sped away.
“Clara, Matty! Thank goodness you’re safe!” A tall, balding man came running out the door pulling on a green and yellow jacket; a big white dog followed barking happily. The man reached them before he had his jacket all the way on; he let it hang forgotten off one arm as he threw his arms around his children. The dog, a white German Shepard mix, bounded around the trio with a used-to-be-yellow tennis ball in its mouth. Its tail wagged so fast Chase wondered that the dog didn’t lift off the ground. After about two seconds of being ignored, it bounced over to Chase and tried to give him the ball.
“We were so worried! Penny called everyone; she was so upset. They’re all on their way over,” the man said. He dropped to one knee in the snow and checked Matty over to make sure he was alright.
“We’re okay, Dad,” Clara said with a valiant smile. “We’re just shaken up, that’s all.”
“Is that true?” he asked, his eyes going back to Matty.
The boy nodded. “Chase saved us!” he said. He pointed at where the dog was still trying to get Chase to take the slobbery tennis ball from its mouth. Chase looked paler than he had been i
n the alley.
“Bailey, no. No ball!” Clara scolded.
“Who’s this?” their father asked, noticing Chase for the first time.
“Dad, this is Chase. Chase, this is my Dad, Matt Clark. Chase saved us from those men.” Clara gave Chase a true smile, her green eyes lit with gratitude.
Chase’s thoughts were hazy. He forced them to align and lifted his hand to meet Mr. Clark’s hearty handshake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, son! I don’t know how I can ever repay you for what you’ve done.” He glanced quickly over Chase’s appearance; his eyes widened when he noticed the blood on the young man’s forehead. “You need to go to a hospital.”
Chase shook his head quickly, then raised a hand to it when dizziness made his vision swim. “No hospital. I’m fine, I swear. I should be going.”
He turned, but Mr. Clark threw an arm around Chase’s shoulders and directed him back toward the house. “Come in, come in. Penny will have you right as rain in no time.” Chase didn’t have the energy to protest. They started up the wide steps to the front door, Clara and Matty in front. It was obvious Mr. Clark didn’t want to let them out of his sight. “Now, what did you say your name was?”
“Brockson, sir, Chase Brockson.” Black spots started to dance at the edges of his vision. He swept his hair back from his eyes in an effort to clear them.
“Any relation to the Mr. Brockson?” Mr. Clark asked interestedly.
“Some,” Chase replied vaguely.
When it was clear the stranger wasn’t going to elaborate, Mr. Clark pulled open the door and ushered them all inside. “Penny! The kids are home safe and I’ve someone here who needs your TLC!” Mr. Clark yelled.
“Oh thank goodness; I was so worried!” came the response from up the hallway.
“There now,” Mr. Clark replied with satisfaction. “Everything’s going to be okay.” He hugged Clara and Matty again, then gave Chase a relieved smile. “I don’t know how we’re ever going to repay you for this, but Mrs. Clark will fix you up.” He looked closer at Chase and concern colored his face.” Are you okay?”