Gone Too Far

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Gone Too Far Page 3

by Angela Winters


  “You’re giving me advice on how to deal with women?”

  “Yes, I am,” he answered. “You know why?”

  “Because you are uniquely unqualified?”

  “The opposite.” Michael let the aside go by. “I am uniquely qualified because I was you.”

  Carter’s laugh was laced with sarcasm. “Is that what you think?”

  “Filled with animosity and hate for a woman who I, at the same time, loved.” Michael grinned as Carter’s expression turned to resentment, because he was right. “You think the meaner you are to her, the more you can prove to yourself that you don’t love her. It doesn’t work. Riding that thin line between love and hate will eat you from the inside out.”

  Carter ignored his brother and walked away. That thin line was his obsession, and he wasn’t ready or willing to let it go.

  2

  When Haley Chase entered the kitchen, she had hoped to find Maya, because she was hungry. But the only person she found was Leigh, who looked up at her with a smile that Haley did not return.

  “Where is Maya?” Haley rushed over to the large double-door stainless-steel refrigerator, her long wavy auburn hair flying behind her. She was a natural seductress with a smoldering sex appeal that drove men crazy. She was heartless and bold and wicked to the core. Despite seeing the danger in her eyes, men still chased her because they wanted to tame her. She found it amusing that they thought they could.

  Opening the refrigerator, she spotted and grabbed a large plate of cut fruit. She placed the plate on the large, dark, granite-topped pinewood kitchen island. “What’s the point of having a maid if you have to do stuff for yourself?”

  “Well,” Leigh replied, “to begin with—”

  “Rhetorical,” Haley shouted back. “For an Ivy League doctor, you’re not that bright.”

  Leigh shrugged off her baby sister’s insults. After all this time, she had gotten so used to them that she knew they didn’t mean anything and they didn’t matter. In her own psychotic way, Haley loved Leigh and knowing that was enough. She would show love only to their mother. Everyone else was out of luck.

  Leigh put down the croissant she was eating and swung around in her chair. “Why does Mom have the idea that you’re planning on staying married to Peter beyond your—arrangement?”

  Haley crinkled her small nose. “I can’t really tell her more than I have.”

  Haley hadn’t wanted to tell her family anything. Peter was supposed to stay in Australia and not bother her until the two years had passed, and then he was to let her know she could get her money. After trying for the last five years to rip her trust fund out of her father’s grip, Haley had given up. She hated the man, and he used every chance he got to control her or place her aside. She wasn’t going to let him banish her to Europe for a third time just because she dusted up a little trouble.

  The trust funds in the Chase family were not very complicated. All of them had been set up with $10 million and were managed by the best private wealth trust firm in the world. Steven’s orders to the trustees were clear. After eighteen, all of the children would receive a modest salary from the fund of $150,000 a year. It was meant to supplement whatever income they would make from the career they were expected to have. After twenty-five, that salary would go up to $250,000. After they reached thirty, the trustee was to hand the fund over to the manager of their choice and give them full, unlimited access to their millions.

  Haley’s lifestyle had passed $250,000 by the time she reached fifteen. Steven had thought that he could manipulate his children and force them to work, but Haley had found a way around it. She lived rent-free at home and charged as much of her life as possible on her parents’ credit cards and Chase Beauty business accounts at the various high-end hotels and restaurants. When she traveled, she flew on her parents’ jet and stayed at her parents’ several homes around the world, but Steven was cutting her off more and more. She went to graduate school like they asked, but now they wanted her to work, and Haley wasn’t going to be treated like this. Peter was her way out from under that awful man’s thumb.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Haley said after tossing a chunk of pineapple in her mouth. “It’s marriage in bank account only.”

  “But he sleeps in your room.”

  “He’s my husband, Leigh. Where do you expect him to sleep?”

  “Does he know you were sleeping with other men after you came back from Sydney?”

  Haley wasn’t sure what had happened to her sister’s supposedly superior brain. “One man, and Peter is my husband, but he’s not my husband-husband.”

  “But you seem to like him,” Leigh said. “At least as much as you’re able to like anyone.”

  Haley smirked at that last comment. She made no secret that she didn’t have much respect for men. They were worth what she could get from them—access, money, sex, or just to piss her parents off. She never intended to keep any of them around long.

  “Why is my marriage the topic of every conversation in this house? This is why I wanted to move out.”

  “Mom doesn’t want you to do that,” Leigh said. “There is no reason you two can’t stay in the guest house.”

  “Except for the fact that it is the size of a closet,” Haley said. “They only want us there so Dad can keep his eye on Peter. He’s not fooling anyone.”

  “He’s not trying to.”

  Haley shrugged as she bit into a gigantic strawberry. “What-evs. I just don’t see how it’s such a big deal. I’m going to meet Peter for lunch at Equator later today. Wanna come?”

  Leigh knew the invitation wasn’t genuine, so she didn’t respond.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Haley added with a laugh. “You’re busy tending to whores and drug addicts. The same thing you do every day.”

  Haley was referring to Hope Clinic, the free clinic Leigh started more than two years ago to give the poor access to some form of adequate health care. She specialized in HIV/AIDS patients but offered other services, since the need was so great. It was upsetting to her parents. Although they had always reminded the children of their privilege and responsibility toward charitable behavior, they expected the Duke Medical School grad to join a top-notch private practice. Like Carter, she chose another path.

  Leigh had two clinics now, and they were her pride and joy. She had seven doctors and four nurses working for her and had become almost as good as her society maven mother at fund-raising. Of course, the Chase Foundation, the multimillion-dollar family charity run by Janet Chase, was Hope Clinic’s biggest donor.

  “For your information,” Leigh countered, “I’m not going to the clinic today. I’m going into the city to lobby for the new state health care program.”

  Haley held up her hand. “Please kill me before you start explaining what that is.”

  “I won’t bore you.”

  In addition to her fund-raising skills, Leigh had been honing her lobbying skills. She was constantly lobbying for funding and legislation that supported getting decent health care to the poor and uninsured. She had worked hard to get a new health care bill all the way to the governor’s office in Sacramento, but she needed help.

  Haley suddenly remembered something. “Wait a minute! Are you talking about Senator Cody?”

  Leigh smiled sarcastically. “So you do actually listen to me when I talk about important things. I thought you were allergic to them.”

  “I usually never remember anything you say,” Haley said. “But I do recall you mentioning Senator Cody—or as I like to call him, Senator Hottie—to Mother.”

  “Yes, I am.” Leigh sighed. “I’m not looking forward to it, but he has the ear of the governor, so I need his help. He’s on district break, so he’ll be here a while.”

  “He’s a hard audience to get,” Haley said as she walked over to her sister. She surveyed Leigh, who was wearing a black suit with a stark-white button-down shirt. “Can you please, please, please wear something that doesn’t make you look like
you’re allergic to sex.”

  “I’m wearing a suit,” Leigh responded. “This is a professional meeting.”

  Haley rolled her eyes. “You’re never gonna get any ever again, are you?”

  Leigh didn’t respond, but the question wasn’t as crazy as it may have sounded. Leigh had horrible luck with men. As a young woman, she had been obsessed with pleasing her mother, so she dated the “right” type of boys but felt nothing for them. The first time she fell in love, it was with Richard, a doctor who helped her open her first clinic. She was prepared to deal with her parents’ disappointment, since Richard wasn’t “one of us,” but before she got the chance, he was killed by a “right” type of boy who just happened to be a psycho, obsessed with Leigh. Leo, after shooting Richard dead, immediately shot and killed himself right in front of Leigh.

  Leigh was devastated and it took a long time for her to get back in the game. She had not planned on becoming interested in famous action-movie star Lyndon Prior, and their relationship was more than enough to upset her parents, who had no respect for wealth obtained by the talent side of sports and entertainment. However, his being white seemed to bother them even more.

  It was Lyndon’s friend Nick who had given Leigh a bad vibe from the get-go. While alone in Lyndon’s mansion, Nick attacked Leigh, trying to force himself on her. While Lyndon came to her aid, he was more concerned with his career than Leigh’s desire to get justice for what had happened. In the end, Steven and Janet Chase did what they always did to anyone who tried to hurt their children. Nick was put in jail after he was found with an enormous amount of drugs, and Lyndon’s career as a heart-throb action star was ruined, because someone had convinced Nick to say that he and Lyndon were lovers.

  Leigh never asked her parents what had been done. She didn’t want to know. She had been too angry about what Nick had done to her that she didn’t care that his life was ruined. That had been over a year ago, and Leigh was in no rush to get back into the dating game. The clinic was her lover for now, and she was satisfied with it.

  Kimberly stood in the archway to her living room, trying to figure out how to deal with her ex-husband as he helped himself to the sofa and reached for a magazine from the glass coffee table. When her maid, Marisol, informed her that he was here—again—Kimberly’s first inclination was to be angry. Despite his promises to leave her alone, except for matters regarding the children, Michael always found an excuse to come over at least once every couple of weeks. But she wasn’t going to get angry. After all, compared to what things had been like before the divorce, this was nothing.

  “Hello, Michael.” Kimberly walked confidently into the room as Michael turned around to look at her.

  “Kimberly.” Michael tried not to be obvious as he took her in. She was exceptionally beautiful, and although over the years he had gotten used to her perfect curves and glowing skin, he was seeing it a lot less frequently these days, bringing back a new-found appreciation.

  “You don’t have a visitation today,” she reminded him.

  “I know,” he answered, “but I want to get some stuff I have in storage in the basement.”

  “I thought you cleared everything out.” She sat on the tall chair across from him, trying to appear not at all emotional. Her voice was calm and cool as she reminded herself that he could not hurt her anymore. She had what she wanted, so there was no need to rock the boat. At some point soon, his unrelated-to-the-children visits would stop. The truth was, it bothered her to see him, because it reminded her of how much she once loved him and hated him at the same time.

  He looked much better than he had in a long time. Toward the end of their marriage, Michael had slept with anything he could get his hands on, justifying it by Kimberly’s refusal to let him touch her. He was drinking too much and not taking great care of himself. He was obsessed with getting his father to forgive him for forcing his hand in covering up David’s death and was constantly afraid of his power position at Chase Beauty. He was angry, suspicious, vindictive, and obsessive, and he was making her life and the lives of their children a living hell.

  In the last six months, he had come to accept the fact that he couldn’t control Kimberly anymore, and his life had spiraled out of control. The anger was still there to an extent, and, like all the Chase men, he hated losing. That was what these visits were about, Kimberly suspected. They made him feel as if she was still his.

  “You mean everything you didn’t burn?” Michael didn’t like the apathetic look on her face. He was okay with her loving him or hating him, but he couldn’t stand her being indifferent. She had ruined his life. She should at least offer him some regretful emotion. “I heard you’re selling this house, so I wanted to make sure you didn’t sell anything that was mine.”

  “Nothing here is yours anymore, Michael.” Kimberly leaned forward. “This house became one hundred percent mine in our divorce. I could ask how you found out about my choice to sell, since I haven’t told anyone but my money manager, but why bother? You seem to make a practice of knowing every little thing I do.”

  “Is there something in particular you have a problem with?”

  “No,” she answered. “I have a problem with all of it. Including having a man investigated just because I had lunch with him.”

  Michael was willing to let Kimberly go, but he was not yet willing to let any other man near her. That, he was not ready for. “I just came here to—”

  “Daddy?” Evan walked into the living room in his one-piece sky-blue pajamas with Star Trek characters on them. He seemed unhappy to see his father. “What are you doing here?”

  “Why are you in your jammies?” Michael asked.

  “I can’t come over today,” he said. “I’m not feeling well. I’m sick.”

  “Sick?” Michael’s brows furrowed in doubt. “Like you were sick when your intestines were broken?”

  Evan nodded in agreement. “They broke again today. I can’t come with you.”

  “Daddy isn’t here to take you,” Kimberly said. “He’s here to talk to Mommy.”

  “Oh.” Evan seemed relieved. “Well, I don’t feel good.”

  “Well,” Michael corrected. “I don’t feel well.”

  “Go back to bed, sweetie.” Kimberly pointed back to the hallway. “I’ll be up there in a bit.”

  After Evan left, Michael asked, “Are you going to tell Dr. Bryant about this?”

  Dr. Bryant was the boys’ psychiatrist. The animosity between Michael and Kimberly had affected the boys in a very bad way. They had stopped respecting Kimberly, because Michael had treated her with such disrespect, and they hated Michael because he had grown so cruel and cold. Dr. Bryant was one of the best child psychiatrists in L.A. and was helping them recover.

  In the past month, though, Evan had gotten in the practice of claiming to be sick whenever Michael had visitation time. He made all kinds of excuses, but his physician, Dr. Brown, found nothing wrong with him. Dr. Bryant, his psychiatrist, suggested Evan was acting out on his remaining anger by finding excuses not to spend time with his father.

  Michael couldn’t help but be hurt by this. He loved his boys. They were the only people he felt he could love completely and without precaution. Trying to help them was the main reason he decided to get his life back together. He accepted that it would take time for the boys to forgive him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t very painful.

  “He did have a bit of a fever,” Kimberly said. “That’s why he’s in bed. Dr. Brown didn’t find anything the last time. Maybe Leigh can look at him.”

  “No,” Michael said. “The less my family knows about the boys’ psychiatric counseling the better.”

  “Fine.” Kimberly stood up. “You know where the basement is. Please make it quick.”

  She didn’t look back as she walked out of the living room and toward the stairs. This bothered Michael and she knew it, but he had to learn. Like she told him, nothing here, except the boys, was his anymore.

  “All ri
ght, all right, you little monster.” Avery placed a kicking and struggling Connor onto the floor as soon as they entered the Baldwin Hills home they recently moved to because they could no longer afford to live in View Park.

  Her daughter began waddling into the living room, running as fast as lightning.

  “Let’s go to the kitchen, sweetie.” Avery smiled as Connor immediately headed to the left, toward the kitchen. Avery’s mother, Nikki, told her she was training her like a little dog, but Avery was doing what she had to. It was hard to look after a rambunctious baby and a—

  “Where in the hell have you been?”

  Avery stopped in the dining room, just before crossing into the kitchen. She turned to see Anthony Harper, her husband, sitting in his wheelchair near the window, where he could look out at the front of the house. He looked his usual surly and suspicious self. Avery was sick and tired of going through this. For the last six months, any time she was more than ten minutes later than she said she would be, Anthony gave her the third degree.

  “Nice to see you too,” she responded, but it only seemed to make him angrier.

  “Can you answer my question?” Anthony asked shortly.

  She didn’t feel like it, but as Avery looked at her husband, sitting in the chair, twenty pounds lighter and with dark circles under his eyes, she knew she had to. She had to because it was all her fault. She had cheated, and that cheating had ruined so much of Anthony’s life. It was fair that he was suspicious of her.

  Avery lifted the bag of groceries in her right arm. “Where I said I would be. I picked Connor up from Mom’s and ran by the store.”

  “I called your Mom. She said you left more than an hour ago.”

  Avery ignored him and headed into the kitchen, where Connor was sitting on her butt, talking gibberish to her fingers. She could hear Anthony’s automatic wheelchair purring behind her.

  “It takes more than an hour to buy one bag’s worth of groceries?”

 

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