Dear Diary: Book 7 in the Love Daddy Series of Standalones
Page 16
Chapter 20
Chastity
Diary Entry Ten Minutes Ago
Dear Diary,
What have I done?
Silly girl. I can’t even breathe…this was the best day of my life so far.
Now, it’s the worst.
* * *
I reach for the leather gym bag on the top shelf inside the walk-in closet at Jack’s penthouse. Dragging it down, I slam it onto the floor in the center of the closet and wipe the back of my hand over my eyes.
The image of Jackson sitting with the stunning blonde, so sophisticated in her pinstriped pantsuit, is making me burn. Seeing him in some lover’s quarrel, then him pulling out a red ring box and seeing the look in her eyes is destroying me.
After seeing them, I used all my strength to go back to my office, I stuffed all my belongings into a garbage bag and left without talking to anyone. I can’t go back there. I’m a joke. Jack’s been playing a game just as I suspected from the beginning. Who knows how many are in on it?
They must have been laughing at me all along, the intern who was stupid enough to believe she deserved a promotion like that.
I’ll go back to Morgantown, tail between my legs.
Sniffling, I reach under the shelves to grab my shoes pushing my damp hair back off my forehead it the other hand. I'm careful to not take anything Jack bought me. I fit what I can in my duffel, looking around at my books, stuffed animals, my plants…remembering my mom’s china set that is now in Jack’s kitchen cabinets. I have to leave so much here, and that’s killing me too.
It breaks my heart looking around.
Quite an elaborate game the rich can play with unsuspecting pawns.
The glistening cut of the diamonds on my ring catches the overhead lights. I pull it off and throw it into the wall of mirrors mocking me as I pack.
The diamond collar is in his nightstand drawer. It’s not mine and I’m not his.
I’m going to have to eat a huge plate of crow with my dad, who told me coming here to New York I would be out of my depth.
I cover my face with my hands as sobs wrench free from my chest, confusion and panic mix inside of me. I can’t breathe. I throw my head back as tears roll down my cheeks. I cry until the painful lump in my throat loosens, trying to come up with my plan.
I can’t wait any longer, I pull my phone up seeing a ton of missed calls from Jack and a few texts I don’t bother to read. I clear all the notifications and dial.
“Hello?” His voice is unemotional as usual.
“Dad?”
“Chastity,” he sounds distant. “How are you doing? I’m about to go into a meeting. Is this something important?”
“I need your help. I need to come back home.”
Through choked tears and apologies, I give him the short version of my predicament with Jackson Carter as I take the walk of shame to the living room carrying my duffel. I take his jabs, the ‘I told you so’s’ and ‘silly girl’s’ until he finally pauses on a disappointed sigh.
“I know. I’m sorry. I have enough for a plane ticket home, if I can’t get out tonight—”
He cuts me off. “I just read a story on the internet about him. Sexual harassment claims. You fell into the trap, Chastity.”
“I know. You were right.”
“Where are you?”
“At Jack’s apartment.”
“And where is that?”
“15 Central Park West.”
The doorbell rings, and I practically leap out of my skin. My phone is pressed to my ear as I stare at the front entry. “One second, someone’s ringing the doorbell.”
“Is it him? Put him on the phone.”
“It can’t be Jack. He uses the private elevator. He doesn’t need the doorbell even if he uses the front door. It’s probably a delivery. Hold on.”
Security has a list of any deliveries Jack is expecting so if something arrives, they go ahead and let the driver bring it up. If no one is home, they just leave it outside the door.
I turn the knob and open the door. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes meet Jack’s. It’s him, but he’s different somehow. His eyes are darker, his hair a bit longer. Or am I just losing my mind?
“Daddy?” I cringe as I realize I’m still on the phone with my father. “Jack?” I step backwards as he steps toward me.
He’s angry. Why is he angry?
He doesn’t get to be angry. I’m the one who’s angry…
Then, as if in slow motion, his closed fist connects with the side of my jaw and blinding pain explodes inside my head.
I scream his name as I fly to my left and hit the wall. The phone falls from my hand, and so does the bag. My face hits the ground as I lie in a crumpled heap on my belly. Clutching my head in both hands, I turn over, staring up in disbelief. Darkness threatens to engulf me.
“Why are you hurting me?” I groan, watching the dark eyes of the man I trusted with my life as he stands over me and I realize I don’t really know him at all. He looks different somehow…
I'm dizzy, but it’s my heart that’s breaking.
I see Jack pick up my phone and end the call with my dad. Dropping it back on top of the leather bag. He reaches down as I try to scramble backward and grabs my hair, dragging me behind him but I twist and fight and kick until he drops me back to the floor.
He doesn’t say anything as I scream and curse. He pulls out a red bandana and stuffs it in my mouth holding his enormous hand over my nose and mouth while I flail and choke.
A few seconds later, blissful darkness envelops me. I welcome it so that I don’t feel anything anymore.
Chapter 21
Jackson
“How the fuck did someone get through security with fuel?”
“I’m not sure sir. We don’t have footage of whoever it was entering through the front doors.” The head of security, Jeffrey Smith, sweats profusely. He's red and shaking. And I don’t pity the guy. I'm pissed.
My mood isn’t being helped because I can’t reach Chastity. I’ve called and texted but she’s not responding.
“This is un-fucking-acceptable.” I’m standing next to his desk as he’s shown me the footage of Chastity leaving but I still can’t concentrate until I know she’s safe which I won’t know for sure until I talk to her. Why did she leave in the middle of the day? Right before the fire?
My head is spinning already but there’s a lot of question marks making things worse. The sprinkler system quelled the fire before it could get too far but the smoke and fumes will make a majority of the office space unusable for the foreseeable future.
There are firefighters upstairs working and investigating but Jenson and his team are dealing with them.
Jesus Christ, if Chastity doesn’t message or call me back in the next ten seconds, I’m going to lose my mind.
“So, everyone is accounted for, correct?” I ask, looking at my phone then hit the call button again as it starts to ring.
“Yes, Mister Carter.”
I'm scanning the large screens as CCTV footage is played back for me, listening as her phone rings but no answer again.
Looking at the screens for any sort of clue as to what happened with the fire. I don’t know exactly what I'm looking for. But I’ll know when I see it.
And then, there it is.
“Pause that.” I lean closer to the screen. “That’s not me. Fucking looks just like me though.”
Jeffrey looks at me weirdly. “Sir? That is you…sorry but you’re easy to spot.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. The camera still is clear. That is me. To all intents and purposes, he’s right. But, I know it’s not. That gold watch peeks through the shirt cuffs, clear and shining in the picture as whoever this imposer is pulls a worn brown suitcase with him.
I look at Jeffrey. “I hate gold watches. And I don’t have a suitcase like that.” I hold my arm up for him to see the leather banded Timex on my wrist. A gift from my father when I graduated high school.<
br />
He's scratching his head as we watch a few minutes more. We switch camera a few times, then I watch the entryway playback of fifteen minutes later and I see her.
My heart thunders as I spot Chastity. She's adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder and carrying a black trash bag in her other hand, leaving the office building minutes before the fire started.
Jensen Harold already told me that, but as I watch her, I see the imposter me appear behind her. Watching her. Following her.
“What the fuck…” I glare at the screen, my chest tightening.
I bolt out the door, my feet slipping on the marble floor as I make my way out of the office building. I curse at myself for not getting the tracking app on her phone installed by now. If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.
Sliding into the driver’s seat of my limo, I yank the door shut and hit the gas, leaving Clancy standing there gape-mouthed. The car tires screech, the car skids before gaining traction and speeding forward. A Bentley limo isn’t exactly designed for high-speed chases, but it’s better at it than ninety percent of any other cars out there.
That man on the CCTV footage was following Chastity, I’m sure of it.
And I can’t believe I didn’t think of this possibility. For a man who was hell-bent on pretending to be me and ruining my goddamned life, why didn’t I expect that he would attack the one thing I love most in the world?
Who could possibly look so much like me? A long-lost cousin? A doppelganger? Plastic surgery? My head is throbbing, trying to put the pieces together, but there’s really only one thing that matters to me in this moment.
I slam my palm into the steering wheel as I barrel through traffic. My pulse racing the entire drive then I finally screech to a stop in front of my private elevator in the parking garage.
A few seconds later, I punch in my code and the elevator lurches upward. I clench my fists ready to unleash an epic fury on someone’s ass if I find Chastity hurt.
The elevator doors slide open.
Silence.
My throat tightens as I see her worn leather duffel bag on the floor of the foyer, a few of her clothing items spilling out from the side.
Why was she packing a bag?
I see Chastity’s phone on top of the duffel. I reach down, grab and unlock it, seeing the twenty-five calls from my number and all the text messages. But, there’s more.
Ten missed calls in a row from ‘Dad’. Not Daddy. Her father.
Something is very wrong here and bile singes the back of my throat. Fury swelling inside me. I hit the call button and a man’s voice picks up on the first ring.
“Hello, Chastity? Chastity? Are you okay?” There’s panic in his voice.
“Where is she?” I hiss into the phone.
“You’re asking me! Is this Jackson? The police are on their way to your apartment. I called them. I know you’ve attacked her, and I swear to God she better be alive and well, you sick fuck.”
“It wasn’t me. Tell me what you heard.” I keep my voice low. “That wasn’t me who attacked her…and I don’t have time to explain.”
Not that I have much to explain, I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.
“She said your name then I heard a loud noise, screaming, then the phone disconnected.”
“That wasn’t fucking me, just listen I don’t have time for bullshit,” I hiss. “Just tell me what you heard.”
Her father goes silent at the other end. “She said someone was ringing the doorbell. Said it couldn’t be you because you don’t come in that way. She thought it was a delivery.” He seems to be connecting the dots.
“Then what happened?” I'm glancing around. No signs of a struggle.
“She opened the door and then said your name, and I heard a thud and she was groaning. I might have been a shitty father, but I will kill anyone who lays a hand on my little girl.”
“That makes two of us. I’ll find her.”
“You got my daughter into this mess. You fucking get her out.”
“Fuck.” I’m moving on autopilot. I reach into a cabinet and pull out my baseball bat. I'm not a gun guy. But I need a weapon to protect my girl. “I’m going to find her,” I tell him, my mind racing.
Right now, I don’t even know who the enemy is.
I hang up and looking around the room, adrenaline rushing through me. Just at that moment, my own phone starts to buzz and I pull it out to see it’s George.
“What?”
“Mr. Carter, I needed to speak to you. You have to listen to me.”
“It can wait unless you know where Chastity is or anything about what’s going on with her...” I stalk into the bedroom, George’s voice in my ear.
“No, it can’t wait, sir. You’re in danger. I found something in the court records, you have a brother. A—”
There’s a noise behind the hidden paneled doors where I keep our playthings and her cage and I stop listening to George.
Maybe she’s playing. Waiting for me…
I hit the buttons on the keypad and the doors swoosh open.
Any relief I had evaporates into red rage.
There she is, behind the golden bars, wearing just her bra, the dress she wore to work crumpled on the floor.
I drop the phone. Whoever did this,
I’ll tear his fucking throat out.
Fury ripples through me like acid. I growl as I step into the room, trying to get to her when a body lunges toward me with a roar.
I look, the flash of my own face in front of me as I swing the bat, and the sickening crack of wood against bone resounds in the room. My look-alike falls to the floor with a thud, landing hard on his face.
He's wearing nothing but a pair of my jeans now. In the footage he was wearing a suit, looking exactly like me except for that fucking gold watch. He’s out for the moment as I rush to the cage, opening the door.
“Chastity? Baby…” A little cut on the side of her face is oozing blood. She's out cold. “Wake up, baby girl. Wake up.” My voice breaks as the possibilities of what’s happened to her rush through me. I lift her in my arms, laying her on the floor.
I keep an eye on the groaning man on the ground a few feet away and cup the sides of Chastity’s face. Her eyes flutter open.
“Thank God, baby...” Catching her mouth in a hot kiss, I realize the moisture I feel on her cheeks are my own tears streaming down.
“Daddy, why are you crying?” she whispers.
I cough trying to get my shit together. “Sorry, baby, I was so scared.”
Movement flicks in the corner of my eye and I look across at the piece of shit to see him push up, eyeing me like I’m the enemy. It’s eerie. He’s me but he’s not. Chastity’s scream splits the silence of the room as he gets to his feet.
The same beard, the same jawline, the same forehead, the same nose, same haircut. The same eyes. But I don’t think mine are that cold and empty.
I’m on my feet before he can kick me, and shove him against the wall, one hand on his throat. “Get ready to die, motherfucker,” I hiss in unrestrained fury.
“You should die. You stole everything that’s mine,” he grits out, his teeth bared in a cold smirk and I have no fucking idea what he’s talking about but I don’t care. “I’m taking what I deserve. Your house. Your business. Your girl. It should have been mine. All of it.” His eyes are bloodshot, crazy looking.
My fist connects with his face three times. Blood sputters from a busted lip before he shoves me backward, leveraging the wall behind him and pushing me off balance.
I stumble back as he charges.
“You got adopted and got everything. Me? I got stuck with a hooker for a mom and drug dealer for a dad. Then ten foster homes and then prison.” He howls. “And you’re here, living the life I should have had!”
I stare, the realization hitting me slowly, and then all at once. “You’re...who the fuck are you?” I roar as he screams like a lunatic. This man is not right. This
isn’t just rage, it’s something more.
“Twin! I'm your twin! I’m you!” he spits, anger turning into maniacal laughter. “I'm the unlucky you who got left behind. And you got it all. The money, the power. The women. It’s my turn.” He drums on his chest like a gorilla.
I hurl my full torso into him. As he loses his balance and hits the ground. I'm on top of him, punching, punching but the blood is making his face slick. His hands jap and flail around my face, push at my chest.
He manages to get out from under me.
“You stupid fucker!” I pin him down again. “All you had to do was come and tell me the truth! I would have taken care of you.” I twist his arm, shifting to get him in a choke hold. I want to kill him, but I don’t at the same time. “Why were you trying to ruin my fucking life?”
He twists and screams manic, cursing, crying, saying things about our mother. Our father. I do what I can to subdue him but it’s no use, so I keep punching until my knuckles are bleeding. I don’t care if he’s my twin, he hurt Chastity and there’s a price to be paid.
I hear Chastity telling me to stop and I realize I’m punching an unconscious man.
I look over to see her standing behind me, her eyes darting from me to the man on the floor then back, like she’s trying to decide if this is real.
My body turns cold as she sways. “I’m dizzy Daddy…” Her eyes roll to the back, and she falls forward.
I catch her mid-fall. I get her out of there, away from him, the man who would have been me.
I carry her out of the closet and put her onto the bed as there is a pounding on the front entry door.
“Police.”
More pounding.
I’m caught between Chastity, watching the fuck laying on the floor and The police. I lunge to the wall where there is a security control panel and push the button that lights up the small screen.
It’s the cops, five of them outside the door, and I push the com button.
“I’ll open the door. We’re down the left hallway, all the way to the end in the bedroom. One man is down, I’m Jackson Carter, this is my home with my fiancé who is drugged or injured. Perpetrator in the closet.”