“Well you’re gonna,” I grit out, staring him down. “I have a lot to tell you. It’s about my past and a time in my life that I can’t ignore if I want to go the distance with you. If I can’t talk to you about this, if we can’t work through this together, then I’m not sure I can stay, no matter how much I love you. No! Don’t ignore that either.”
Foolish man. Why is it always left to the woman to be the risk-taker in these types of situations? Sure, maybe I don’t deserve his understanding after the way I’d attacked his character. I know now, and probably knew then, that the way he fights is not a bad thing. I was just laying my own shit at his door…
But here’s the thing: I truly love the guy and he’s being purposefully obtuse because I scared him away. Where’s all that courage and intensity I saw in the cage? Why is it so hard for him to risk this when he’ll risk getting the crap kicked out of him by Brick or some other mountain?
“Remy, I’ve told you—”
“Oh blah blah blah. It’s not easy for me to say these things. And you can bet your cute booty I’m not comfortable baring my heart to you when you’re not exactly interested. I need to do this or—I’m telling you—this is goodbye,” I warn.
That gets his attention and I see his fists flex and tighten at my words.
“So, you either listen, or I leave and then I’m gone. Your choice.”
He tenses even more before his lips curve in a mocking smile.
“You think I’ll let you go, Rem?”
Oh, my poor deluded tycoon, I think, tipping my mouth into a sad smile that I feel all the way clear to my bones. Here he stands, thinking that he’s winning when really, we’re both losing.
“It’s moot. If we can’t talk and work through not only my issues but yours as well, then we don’t have anything, Chase. You can keep me locked up in your house and get me to submit to you in bed, but at the end of the day, it won’t mean a thing. You’re driving me away.”
My heart is in my throat at his point. I feel myself begging, with my eyes, my body, every fiber of my being. Just listen and I swear at the end we’ll win.
But he just shakes his head tiredly and retakes his seat.
“What we have is enough for me.”
Chapter 29
Remy
“You look like shit.”
I snort out a laugh and roll my eyes when Liv prances into the living room. Her usual pep brings with it annoyance instead of the joy I usually feel upon seeing her.
Today, I’m just irritable and not feeling it. And who can blame me? That stubborn jackass had called Hensley, gone nuts on the poor guy, and then banished me back home.
That was it. No talking, no sharing, no trying to be more. Just, no thanks, Rem. I’m more than okay with an empty relationship built on fucking.
And then he’d had the balls to come home and try his shit with me. As if I’m going to be all hot and bothered when I’m plotting my escape. So no, when he’d sidled up to me in bed, after an hour-long dinner in which we did no more than twirl our food around on the plate, I’d nixed that right off the bat and told him in no uncertain terms to get lost.
Although I kinda do feel bad about that. Saying ‘fuck off, ice cube,’ wasn’t exactly necessary.
So yeah, no talk, no sex and the stark realization that no matter how much I plan, I probably won’t make it out the door without one of the guys on my ass…BAD MOOD.
“Ah, I see all is not right in the land of Rem. Tell Aunt Liv what plagues thee," she coos, coming to sit beside me and hug me with a small squeeze and a lot of pomp.
I sigh and fling the printouts I’ve been perusing for Safe Haven, Chase’s charity, to the coffee table before leaning back and rubbing at my face.
“I tried to talk to Chase about some stuff yesterday and he totally shot me down. My therapist is not happy with me, and I am so not happy with Chase—or myself—right now. That’s what’s plaguing me.”
She sits back and contemplates me with a few hmms and ahhs before standing, walking to the bar and coming back with an opened bottle of red wine and two glasses.
“Here. We’ll drink and talk and figure this out. Tell me what’s not making your therapist happy and we’ll put something together.”
My first inclination is to avoid that scenario and just bitch about Chase, but I resist and, taking a deep breath, I tell her everything: the fear, humiliation, and self-loathing. How my family abandoned me and how my only saving grace was my grandmother and her hard talking, no-nonsense ways.
I take a deep breath and feel lighter, freer than I have in a long time. Nothing is like a good, solid friendship. I don’t know why I haven’t spoken to her about this before. Liv is and always will be my best pal. She’s always there for me even if she doesn’t always agree with me.
I can count on her; she’s as rock solid as they come.
“Well, hell. That was a little more than the usual relationship drama I was expecting,” she quips, and I snort a laugh at her silliness.
“Yup.”
She sits up and looks me square in the eyes, her bearing stiff, pissed off, and the tiniest little bit hesitant. “I want to tell you something and I don’t want you to freak out before we discuss this. Okay?”
That sounds really ominous and I’m ashamed to admit that my first instinct is to cover my ears and start lalala-ing to avoid any more mental baggage. But then, that would make me Chase, and I’m still pissed enough to revolt against being anything like that coward.
“Okay. Shoot. Lay it all on me sister.”
Liv rolls her eyes and regards me seriously.
“About a week ago, I was using Gabe’s office computer to do some research for…I kinda was looking into programs to go to cooking school or something,” she admits, giving my hand a squeeze to stop my automatic questions.
Later, Rem. You can grill her later, I tell myself, though I’m shocked to think that Liv is turning her whole life around. She’s accepted that Gabe loves her and that he’s in it for the long haul. No more carefree footloose Liv. This woman is obviously settling in and making plans to live the life she wants.
And now I’m jealous.
“So you were on the computer…”
“Yeah, and instead of clicking the Google icon, I mistakenly tapped on one of his files. I almost closed it right down and went back to my business, but I saw a name that caught my attention so I started reading.”
I cock a brow at her, letting her know how I feel about that gross invasion of her boyfriend’s privacy and she smiles sheepishly and tilts her head.
“Yeah, I know right? But that name…anyway, I read it all. At first I couldn’t make sense of any of it ‘cause, you know, I’m no business buff, but it started clicking into place for me eventually and then I just knew.”
“Knew what?” I say, practically having to bite my tongue to stop from yelling.
She takes a deep breath and I gird myself.
“I checked all the high school yearbooks online and then…the stuff on Gabe’s computer was a whole bunch of take-over plans. I couldn’t understand the money and numbers stuff but after few searches I found out that every single company that Chase Marshall has acquired in a hostile takeover is a company belonging to a whole bunch of dudes you went to school with. Those who weren’t born with a silver spoon and took over daddy’s company simply ended up filing for bankruptcy and were totally ruined.”
Huh? So maybe my brain is slow or something but I’m not tracking and I tell her so.
“Don’t you see, Rem? Chase purposefully set out to ruin those men, and what’s more, he’s not stopping at dismantling Brian's campaign. The man is planning to make sure that by the time he’s done with Brian, there won’t be anything left but a washed up ex-jock slinging hash to make a living.”
But-but that makes no sense. I understand him ruining Brian because, let’s face it, my ex is a douche that deserves to have the world see him for the ass he is. I’m not too proud to admit that having him brough
t low gives me a thrill of joy.
But the others…
I listen as Liv tells me the names and the lengths Chase has gone to. Slowly it all starts to solidify in my mind and come together. Okay, maybe not together, together, but I now know that he’s suitably ruined half the football team I used to be subjected to when I was Brian's girlfriend.
Those men were not nice boys in school, and what’s more, I don’t think they are nice guys now, give or take a few who could have grown up and become decent human beings. Not likely, but possible.
“He’s planned a vendetta? Why?”
Liv shrugs and sits back with a sigh, her face a study of strain and fatigue. Yeah, she looks about as good as I do now that I’m not wallowing in self-pity and paying attention.
“Dunno, Rem, but for whatever reason, the guy went after a whole bunch of guys from your old school.”
Because he wanted me?
But—
“Oh shit! He saw the photos!” I suddenly yell, springing to my feet and dancing around in a circle.
The dancing is not from joy but horror and total embarrassment.
“Tell me.”
I start pacing and tell her that last little thing that used to kill me but is now so trivial I don’t even think about.
“After that…well, whoever did those things to me also took photos and they uploaded them, Liv. Nudes of me all over the place. My father and mother went nuts and had them removed. Two of the sites even got shut down, but some of it is still out there.”
“Your parents actually cared?”
“No.” I laugh, enjoying that I can find humor in this. “They just didn’t want the family name besmirched or something. Do you think he saw…oh my God! If those are the guys who did the photos…”
“Then they were the ones who attacked you!” Liv yells, springing to her feet with a curse and a look of pure terror in her eyes. “Rem, I think you may have married the guy who did that to you.” She breathes in horror and I feel myself start to crack.
This all makes so much sense and yet…
Chapter 30
Remy
Think Remy!
After my teachers had come down so hard on me and forced me to wake up, I’d spent a lot of time on extra-curricular activities that had been more…brainy, I guess: debate, the newspaper, even freaking chess.
And I’d met a lot of nice people who’d not only tutored me and helped me raise my grade point average, but had been really kind and true friend material.
Of course, none of them had been as great as Alex was. I realize now that part of the reason I’d fallen so far had been because he was gone—
No side tracking, Remy. Stay focused.
Okay, so I’d changed. A lot. Gone was the interest in my looks and cheer squad. Gone was the need to be popular and well liked. I’d literally changed myself in the space of a few short months and started being a better version of me instead of the vapid airhead my mom was grooming me to be.
And then I realized that the new me and Brian just weren’t gelling all that well. I found him clingy and vacant. By that stage, I had a firm crush on Alex. A huge crush that made me giddy in a way I’ve never been before.
And I got the idea that maybe, with a little more work on me, Alex might feel the same. Brian was pissed, of course, and to say that mom had been displeased is an understatement.
They’d made my life hell but I ignored it all, keeping my eye on the prize. I felt good about myself and a little too good about the thought of using my old tricks to try and land my new crush.
And then one day he disappeared and I never saw him again. I was miserable and angry that he’d just disappear like that without even a goodbye. I’d been tempted to fall back into my old ways and bury myself in the noise that was the popular kids, but no. I took it on the chin and kept going, much to mom and Brian’s dismay.
So, one day I stayed late at school trying to earn extra credits on an English paper only to find that one of my tires was flat. I’m a girl who didn’t even know what a jack looked like, so I didn’t have a clue how to fix the situation. Plus, my phone had died somewhere around last period.
I decided to walk home, even though it was really far because hey, it wouldn’t kill me right? Wrong! About half a mile into my journey, it started getting dark and I realized maybe I should have gone back inside and used a phone to call someone.
Then a car approached and I thought hey, I can get a lift or at least ask to use their phone. Wrong again.
As soon as the car stopped beside me, I saw four hulking masked men pile out and I knew I was in deep trouble. I’d dropped everything and taken off, thanking my years of track and cheer squad for the fitness and physical speed I needed. I sprinted away and kept running till my legs burned and my heart felt like it was trying to crawl out of my throat.
I started slowing eventually, my body completely out of steam, my heart hoping, foolishly believing that I’d lost them and that my screams would have made them run.
My heart pounded so loudly that I couldn’t hear anything else but its frantic beat in my ears. And then I heard the pounding of their footsteps behind me and I knew I was wrong.
The new spurt of adrenaline had made me speed up, and I frantically looked around for a house, any signs of civilization that could save me, but all around me was nothing but trees and a long, deserted stretch of dark road.
I was alone, running on empty and so terrified to be caught that I’d done the most stupid thing imaginable. I darted for the line of trees to my left, hoping to get lost in the inky blackness. My sneakers hit the soft grass and I slipped in the remnants of the light drizzle that had blown over hours ago, but I corrected quickly and plunged in, squinting my eyes to avoid a direct hit with the trees surrounding me.
And still I heard the hard pounding of footsteps behind.
By that point, I was wheezing and I knew I was done. I’d run no more than a mile at that point—usually I could do four and then another two at a slow jog—but the fear was making me seize up and my legs had started cramping.
So I hurled myself right, fell to my knees and crawled into a line of bushes, curling up in the dark and holding my breath to stop my whimpers from escaping.
I can’t say how much time passed, minutes maybe, but they felt like hours as I heard more footsteps and the men crashing through the foliage. They never said a word but slowly and methodically searched, their flashlights making me shrink back further under the leaves.
Dampness had seeped through my thin sweater and jeans and I started shivering as time went on, the tears streaking my cheeks adding another layer as the air turned colder.
And then the most frightening thing happened. I heard nothing. No footsteps, no leaves rustling. Everything was dead silent but for the choppy breaths I couldn’t control.
It was terrifying because I didn’t know what to do. I was frozen beneath that bush in total fear, my muscles screaming at me to make a break for it while my mind begged me to stay put and wait.
I obeyed my mind but only because my body was done.
Feeling a little less harried, I worked on calming my breaths and slowing my heart rate, relaxing my stiff muscles. I’d relaxed too soon because while I was focusing on me, I failed to hear the soft crunch of leaves. I didn’t know he was on top of me until a hand tightened around my left ankle and yanked me out.
I’d screamed and fought with what little I had left, but it was no use. My attacker was a lot stronger and wasn’t half limp with exhaustion. He simply batted my hands away, clocked me one good one that shook my brain and made me woozy, and then threw me over his shoulder.
Blood had poured from my split lip as I hung limply and felt his shoulder knock the breath from my lungs with his every footfall as he broke into a trot.
All too soon, we hit the road again and the five of them proceeded to tie me up, duct tape my mouth and shove me in the trunk. Being trapped in there, anticipating what they had in store for me was terrifyin
g. I rubbed my wrists raw trying to get free by the time the car slowed and then stopped.
Four doors opened and shut, and then I was looking up at five black hockey masks that seemed to grin at me. They hauled me out, shoved me around a little and shoved something into my arm.
Almost immediately, I felt myself go drowsy and no amount of panic, adrenaline or denial could stop me from swaying and then passing out. I don’t remember much about what happened after except for the insistent flashing of lights. I woke in a field, naked and aching.
Marooned, my memory blinking in and out and my muscles making me stumble, I’d somehow managed to get to the road and start walking. I only got about six steps before my legs gave out and dumped me on my ass.
Thirsty, starving and traumatized, I’d crawled on my hands and knees, sobbing and desperate to get somewhere safe. It took so long my knees and forearms turned bloody and I was ready to lie down and die there on that road.
I didn’t though, and not because I didn’t lie down and give up—because I did. No, I survived because a truck driver just happened to be on that road at dawn and he saw me and stopped.
I will be forever grateful to that man because he picked me up even though I was crying and near hysterical by that point. He got me in his rig and under a blanket, and then drove me to the hospital.
The rest of it is about the same. I was dehydrated, bruised from the way I’d been shoved around and severely traumatized.
My mom, of course, blamed me for being foolish and raged about my inability to stop crying. Dad was furious because…well I don’t know since dad never said a word. He just looked at me with dark eyes.
After they discharged me, I went into a very dark depression and would freak out at the slightest sound. I hid in my room, not caring about anything at all. Hell, I skipped so many showers I’m surprised my mom didn’t take me out back and dump flea powder on me before hosing me down.
And then, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I swallowed two bottles of mom’s Valium and sleeping pills and woke up again in the hospital, only this time Grandma was there.
CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Page 44