CHAPTER SIX
Gillian
The morning frost crunches and the spikes of my low heels dig deep into the cold ground as we make our way up the incline. My healing ankles resist, but I tamp down any residual pain; clenching my jaw and grinding my teeth works just fine. I’ve been out of the hospital a week, and it’s been a total of two weeks since our wedding day. The day that never happened.
It’s a sea of black everywhere you look when we arrive at our destination. Hundreds of people stand like a hill of ants waiting to worship their queen, only their queen is dead. Ms. Colleen Davis is being laid to rest today. Chase held off on the services until I was found and out of the hospital. Now, he’s finally dealing with his loss, though I’m not sure dealing with it would be the right term. More like avoiding it completely.
I clutch Chase’s hand and look up at his profile. He’s stoic. Hasn’t smiled or moved a muscle in his sculpted face in the last hour. It’s a cold day when the world isn’t graced with one of his smiles. For a while I got so used to seeing them, it became a welcome permanent fixture in my life. Lately, we’ve all been nothing but frowns. Today is no different.
Solemnly we tread through the group of people. So many stop him with a few kind words, a pat to the shoulder or back, people I’ve never met or seen providing small snippets of comfort in Chase’s time of need. Except me. I have nothing to say. There’s nothing I can say that will ever take away this hurt. Because the woman Chase loves is the reason his mother is dead. The one woman he trusted above all others is gone, and it’s my fault.
I’m a realistic person, I get that I wasn’t the one who murdered Colleen in cold blood, but I was the catalyst for Daniel even being there that day. I watched Chase’s mother take her last breath. As much as that hurts, it’s the topic of what we were fighting about before Daniel entered that bridal room that plagues my every breath. She never believed that I was the right woman for her son. Those thoughts and feelings were the last things she had on this Earth.
I haven’t even been able to talk to Chase about it. How could I? Oh yeah baby, your mom hated my guts, and on our wedding day, she was making it clear how wrong I was for you. Five minutes later, her neck was slit by my ex-boyfriend. Sorry.
I let out a deep sigh and Chase pulls me tighter against his side, leans down and places a warm kiss on my head at the hairline. We’re here to bury his mother and he’s comforting me. Things are so messed up. When we get to the graveside seating area, I see my six favorite people, aside from Chase, all sitting together like my own personal cheering section. Tommy is sitting next Maria, who’s next to Bree, who’s alongside Phil, who’s next to Kat, who’s sitting with Carson. All of our friends are in black, all wearing matching somber expressions. Chase leads me over to them.
Carson gets up first. “Hey man, I-uh...” he clears his throat then tries again. “This has to be hard, after what happened to your girl and all. Carson glances to me then back to Chase. “Aunt Colleen, well, she loved you more than anything in this world. Everyone knew that.” Carson pulls Chase into a man-hug and surprisingly, Chase accepts, though his expression is still set in stone.
Maria clasps Chase’s hand, looks into his eyes and says, “Voy a rezar por el alma de su madre para estar en paz.” He nods and gives Ria a tight-lipped smile. I pick up a bit, something about his mother’s soul and rest in her words, but not much else.
Bree stands and her pregnant belly bumps him. Chase reaches out both hands to prevent her from tipping but ends up cradling her bump. He gasps and his eyes get glassy. The first hint of real emotion I’ve seen since the hospital. She covers his hands with her own.
“She likes you, feel her?”
Her. She said her. His eyes sparkle for the first time in what seems like forever. His hand cups a specific spot on her belly, and she presses it close.
“I do feel it. The kick. Your daughter is very strong,” he says, and she nods, sniffing then rubbing her nose on her tissue.
Kat and Bree’s eyes fill with tears that fall prettily down their cheeks. “We found out yesterday but with everything going on”—she looks to both sides and Phil puts an arm around her shoulder comforting her—“with everything, it just didn’t seem important,” Bree finishes.
Maria closes her eyes and shakes her head. Tommy pulls her into his side protectively. I hold a hand over my mouth and stifle a sob. She didn’t feel it was important because of everything that’s happened. My best friend is going to have a baby girl, and instead of shouting it from the rooftops like any one of us would in the same circumstance, she held her tongue and tried to not make a big deal of her news. Doesn’t she know that news like this can heal us? That her baby, the life within her gives us all hope.
“Congratulations, Chase pats her hand and proceeds to shake Phil’s hand and Tommy’s. “Gillian, want to stay with your friends while I check with Dana about the arrangements?”
“Uh, yeah. Okay, if that’s what you want.” He gives another tight smile, the one I’ve seen him use in business meetings when things aren’t going his way. Never with me. I’m not really sure how to take that. Leaving it alone is all I can do right now.
Maria pulls me into a big hug. “Hey girl, how you holding up?” she asks pushing back a lock of my hair that slipped out of the chignon.
I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look…I don’t know, different.”
“Well, we are at a funeral. You know, sad day and all,” I remind her, my tone coming across as a bit bitchy.
She purses her lips. “Have you seen Dr. Madison yet?”
“No,” I stare off into the distance and bite my lip. “I will, soon actually. Couple days from now. Chase is forcing it.”
Her icy eyes turn a warmer blue. “You know as well as I do, that after everything you’ve been through, not seeing a therapist would be estúpido. This is not your first rodeo dealing with traumatic experiences.”
“You’re right. It isn’t.” I sigh a long soul cleansing breath. “I don’t know why I’m avoiding it. Regardless, I’m going on Wednesday.”
“Chase too?”
The mere thought of Chase being anywhere I’m not sends a river of panic rushing down my spine. I straighten and look all around trying to spot Chase. Instead I see Megan “The Bitch” O’Brian holding onto Chase’s arm and standing close…really close. “The nerve of that woman,” I growl under my breath. Maria’s head snaps to where I’m looking. Kat and Bree stand and flank my sides both having heard me.
“That the ex? The puta?” Ria asks, the words spilling out as if they have been shoved through a meat grinder.
Instead of responding, I just focus my attention on sending a bushel of visual daggers in Megan’s direction. When she pulls Chase into her arms, holds him close, and he doesn’t instantly pull back, I actually sway on my feet. Bree and Kat hold me up.
“Easy there,” Kat says, her voice a comforting whisper.
Maria looks at me, shrugs her man’s hold off her shoulder, and beats feet to Chase and Megan. I can’t move or go after her. I just can’t physically defend myself or my man. It’s like I’m a hollow statue that was once made of solid stone. My insides are so weak I can barely keep the outside from cracking and splitting at the seams with the deluge of emotions pressing against all sides.
I watch in sick fascination as Maria interrupts the lovefest that is my man holding onto his ex-fiancée. She pulls him aside and whispers in his ear. He immediately leaves The Bitch behind and heads in our direction. His eyes are cold, his face as hard as granite. The long black coat he wears flares out making him look like he’s just stepped out of photo shoot for London Fog outerwear. Maria on the other hand doesn’t follow. Looks like my soul sister is having words with the red headed siren. I can barely find the energy to care.
Chase reaches my side and pulls me into his arms. “What’s wrong? Are you unwell?” I clutch his back and drop my face into the crevice at his n
eck. That woodsy fruity scent that is solely Chase slams against my senses and tears slide down my face. And that’s when the shaking starts. Tremors curl through my body uncontrollably while I hold onto Chase for dear life.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. My fault, my fault, my fault.” I whisper over and over against his neck, my tears soaking the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t seem to be fazed by it. Instead, he just holds me, his own face pressing against my neck, finally taking the comfort I know he needs right now.
“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. That’s the truth.” He pulls back and cups my cheeks in his hands then swipes at my tears with his thumbs. The bruises on my face are almost gone. He leans forward and takes my lips in a soft kiss. “I can taste your fears. It’s lovely that you cry for me, but unwarranted. You are not to blame for what happened to Mother. There’s only one man who needs to come to justice for the crime he committed against my mother, our friends, and you. Please stop punishing yourself. It hurts me to think you’re carrying this weight. Let it go, okay?” His gaze turns grey matching the sky and clouds overhead.
“Okay,” I lie. He can say what he wants, but even though there is a lot of truth to his words, I can’t let go. Daniel would have never touched this family, that girl in the yoga studio, and all those people at the gym, or my best friend Phillip if it wasn’t for me. That’s a lot of collateral damage adding up and each and every instance is digging a bigger hole into my heart where I fear no amount of happiness will be able to fill it again.
Maria comes walking back with pep in her step and a wicked grin. Seeing her with a grin like that means she’s up to something, and it is most definitely bad, illegal, or perhaps both.
I narrow my gaze at her as she cuddles up to Tommy. “Ria, what did you say to her?” I gesture with a head tilt to where the red-head was.
Her eyes widen and she places a hand to her chest. “Who me? Oh, nothing really. I just reminded her that this is a rough time in our friends’ lives and to mind her manners.”
Chase’s eyebrows rise up to his hairline. “Well that was very big of you Ms. De La Torre,” Chase says formally with a hint of jest.
She smiles really widely. Uh-oh. Her tone is saccharine-sweet when she adds, “And then with the same tenderness and compassion she’s given our Gigi in the past, I reminded her that if she ever laid one of her skanky assed fingers on my best friend’s man again, I’d take that finger and break it. Then I’d happily break her face for good measure, so that her face would match her finger so she’d never have to understand what jealousy felt like.”
I look from Maria to Chase completely horrified. Leave it to my best friend to offer a wallop of drama at a graveside. Even if it is one hundred percent justified.
“Oh wow. Karma got evil on her ass,” Bree says under her breath, yet still loud enough for all of us to hear.
“Chase…” I start to try and smooth over the potential disaster this may have caused when he responds in the exact opposite way I would have ever expected. He laughs. Literally drops his head back, put his arms out to the sky and laughs. Loudly.
Eyes from every direction zero in on the hysterics that have overtaken my normally emotionally guarded business tycoon. I scowl at every person until they look away then wait for Chase to come back to himself.
“Fuck, I needed that.” Chase says after a long bout of laugher. So long that people are making a point to look everywhere but at the spectacle our little group has created.
“What?” Maria holds up her arms. “The puta deserved it. Besides, it’s not like I hit her.” She grins again. “I wanted to, but I thought that would get me in trouble with one of them.” She points to a section of guys with earpieces, sunglasses, and black suits looking quite menacing. “Or those guys,” she points to another section. “Maybe even them,” again she scans the perimeter, “or perhaps those ones. They look downright jumpy for some action.”
“Chase, that’s a lot of guards.”
“Honey, they think McBride will come today. The announcement of Mother’s service was in the paper this week along with the location so mourners could attend and pay respects. It stands to reason that he’d want to see you again. I can’t take any chances. The FBI even has snipers in the trees watching for activity.”
“You’re kidding.” I search his gaze, and he shakes his head slowly.
“I wish I were.”
Daniel
When will they ever fucking learn? They think they can keep me from my girl? That the FBI and his rent-a-cops would prevent me from seeing her today. When I saw the announcement in the paper about the rich bitch’s funeral I could barely contain my excitement. Chase being in the hospital every second of the god damned day did not give me the chance to reconnect with my girl. Originally, my plan was to take her from the hospital. Just shoot her full of the tranquilizer again and mosey on out of there with her on a stretcher.
I even had the guy and ambulance picked out. But no, the stupid dick had to screw up my plans. I mean, really, who stays with a woman every second while they are in the hospital? He never left to sleep, or eat, or anything. The couple times they had her sedated that I could see, he had those bitches watching over her. As much as it would have made me bust a nut to take out all three of them at once, the two guards posted at her door and the dick’s presence ruined it.
Not for long. For the past two weeks they’ve been in hiding, but I suspect they are at the Davis Mansion. It’s the only place that’s heavily guarded, much more than it was before. Though I have a plan for that too. I’ve already met some of the guards at a local bar not far from the estate. They go there after their shift and toss back a few beers. I’ve been in there, they haven’t noticed any similarity between the person they are on the lookout for and the man I’ve become. Brunette hair, a full mustache and the start of a pretty good-sized beard has really helped. Add the contacts and voila, I’m a new man. I’ve even done some pretty stellar suits because a well-groomed man in a suit is not the guy they’re looking for. No, they’re looking for a blond, blue eyed man who works out a lot and is an accountant in a small firm. Was an accountant anyway.
I’ve always been good at numbers. Like the number one hundred and forty. The exact number of people between me and my girl.
Fourteen. That number signifies how many rows back I am from my Princess.
Six. The amount of people I’m going to have to kill to have her in my life forever.
Chase will never stop. Neither will that pig, Thomas Redding, especially if he keeps dating her best friend. Then of course there’s still the cousin who looks like a fucking Ken Doll who’s with one of her other friends. I can’t imagine going through life looking like a little girl’s toy. And of course yoga Barbie, though now I guess I’d say she’s prego Barbie. Still looks hot. I’d definitely stick my dick in her. Never fucked a pregnant woman before. Might be worth a round or two, make Gillian watch so she can see how nothing and no one will ever stand in my way getting to her. And last but not least, Phillip and Maria. Now those two are a pair. I need to think up something definitely evil to take them out. They have both thwarted my attempts to cage Gillian too many times over the years aside from recent events. They were always hanging around trying to take up my girl’s time when Gillian and I were dating. Fucking annoying.
I stare at the five people thinking about each one of them individually. Chase has all of them locked away, so I’m sticking with the theory that they are all at that mansion. Getting in there will be easy enough. Figure I’ll be working as one of Chase’s rent-a-cops in the next couple weeks. I’ll just mention that I’m looking for work the next time I’m at the bar when he’s there, give him one of my fake cards, and I’m in. Even if I have to take out one of the current guys to ensure an opening, that won’t be too hard. I’ve already got one in my sights. He’s a real piece of work. Fucks over his wife and kids, drinks his paycheck away at the bar. They’d be better off getting social security
for his death than the mountain of debt I’m sure he’s got going on.
My musings stop cold as I watch Chase go over to where Gillian is sitting with her friends. She stands and he puts an arm around her then leads her to the front row. Dick.
“Let’s all take a seat,” says the priest at the front of the seating area where the casket is propped up like some kind of fucking altar. The woman was a hideous bitch, who yelled at my perfect girl, and made her feel inadequate. No one is allowed to make my girl feel like that. And the woman wouldn’t shut the fuck up. I warned her, but…she didn’t listen. You can’t blame a guy for taking her out. Anyone who has balls would do what I did. I put Gillian, and the rest of the world out of their misery when I slit that old hag’s throat. Man, and the waterfall of blood when I slid my blade clean through the pale skin of her turkey like neck was quite a sight.
Standing over the bitch really gave me a good view of it, too. The blood poured out like a wave cresting on a sandy beach. It was magical. When I killed that tree-hugging yoga cunt I was sitting behind her. Took away the cool visual. Though I’ll never forget having my legs and arms wrapped around her body as she shook then took her last breath. Her body was still warm when I left her on that wooden platform, her blood coating the shiny surface. As I recall these recent memories, my dick becomes painfully hard. What would it be like to fuck a woman while slitting her throat?
I scan the crowd and see that pathetic assistant I was fucking. She was good as far as fucking whores goes. She would be a good candidate to test my throat slashing theory while taking her like an animal. I can just imagine the warm sticky blood flowing over her chest, sticking to mine as I slide along her body. Or maybe I’d slit her from pelvis to breast and let her insides coat me while I fucked her to death. Literally.
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