Never Say Never, Part Two (Second Chance Romance, Book 2)

by Shaw, Melissa

  “Answer me, Emily.” Chase caught her in the snare of his glare. “You killed someone.”

  “Yes.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Emily drove through the streets as if she’d forgotten the laws. She didn’t care anymore.

  Chase was finished with her. He thought she was a monster, and this was the end of them. It was done.

  “Done, done, done.” She chanted it over and over again.

  There was no one to turn to about this. Mama wouldn’t have anything worthwhile to say. She didn’t have any friends left except for Amanda, who hadn’t spoken to her since her drunken admission about Brian’s fear of more children.

  Her kids. She needed to see them. To talk to them and know that she was on the right track, that losing Chase wasn’t the end of the world and she’d still prosper and achieve her goals.

  Of course she would. She wasn’t a bad person.

  Was she?

  Emily steered left and entered Brian’s road. At least, the road where the massive house was situated. Hopefully he was still away on business, and if he wasn’t she wouldn’t put up with his shit.

  She pulled up in front of the house and stopped the car. She gripped the steering wheel and breathed heavily. In, out, in, out. She couldn’t let this control her.

  “Don’t let it conquer you, you’re stronger than this.” Emily spoke to herself.

  She’d been so stupid to let go of her anger and let the thought of Chase enter her mind again. So damn stupid.

  The car died and she removed the key from the ignition.

  She slammed the door behind her and dragged her feet up the garden path, glaring at the front of the house. There were the Bougainvillea’s she’d planted with the kids running around, Becci still in nappies and Jared toddling.

  Those were the happy days. Except for Brian’s cold absences and the swift beatings he’d delivered to Jared whenever he set a foot wrong.

  She stopped and picked one of the papery pink flowers, offering silent thanks to the plant.

  The front door opened before she reached it.

  “You need to leave.” It was Amanda, and her face was a thundercloud.

  “Hello to you too.” She tucked the flower into the front pocket of her jeans and hopped up the three stairs and onto the porch.

  “You heard me, Emily.” Amanda let herself onto the porch and shut the door behind her, glancing from left to right.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s inside.”

  Brian was home. Screw him, she wanted to see her kids.

  “Amanda, I don’t care if the pope is inside. Where are Becci and Jared? I want to see them.”

  The curtain upstairs twitched and her daughter appeared for a moment, a broad smile lighting her features.

  ‘Told you,’ she mouthed up at her.

  “He won’t allow it.” Amanda folded her arms across her breasts. Frustration and angst oozed out of her pores. That was the effect Brian had on those he loved. Becci disappeared from the window.

  “How would he know unless you told him?”

  “Precisely. I tell my husband everything, Emily. Don’t get that twisted.”

  “You tell him you went out to dinner with me?” She shot the arrow without a second thought and Amanda didn’t take it well.

  She stepped in and raised a finger. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I want to see the children.”

  “And I told you, you can’t.”

  Emily had lost patience with this. Brian had no right to keep her kids from her, and Amanda had even less.

  “Then I’ll be pursuing legal action.” She’d get a lawyer – she had enough money now – and talk to him about her rights. That would be that. She’d hoped to resolve this without having to turn to the law, but if she had to, she would. Anything for Becci and Jared.

  “That’s exactly what Brian will do.”

  “Come on, Amanda, you can’t tell me you enjoy that man.” The sex video of Janet and Brian sprang to mind. “He’s overbearing, he’s never home, and he’s an egomaniac for God’s sake.”

  She half expected Amanda to reply that he was ‘her egomaniac’.

  “I can’t discuss my marriage with you.” It came out pained. A pained tape recording of a woman in a trap. Where was the smug Amanda now? The skier off to the French Alps with her beloved husband.

  Her congressman.

  This disgusted Emily more than she’d express to her old friend.

  “Amanda, come on, I’m your friend. I’m here if you need to talk to me about anything,” she said, reaching out to touch her on the shoulder, “but you have to let me see my children. This isn’t right and you know it.”

  “Right?” Amanda asked, a bitter laugh spilling from her pink lips. “Right? You’re a convicted felon. You shouldn’t have the right to be around those children.”

  It was Brian speaking with her mouth, Brian whispering words in her ears.

  He’d poisoned Janet, who’d turned Chase against her.

  Anger boiled inside her, building to climax. Yes! Yes, she had done something terrible. NO! She hadn’t done it on purpose.

  Did that make her an unfit mother?

  Did it make her an irredeemably bad human being?

  No, no, no. She couldn’t believe that. That train of thought would be her ultimate destruction.

  Emily sighed to relieve the tension but it stayed, ingrained, waiting to erupt at the right opportunity.

  Her fault for drinking and letting this happen. But God, Brian… he’d be her undoing.

  Amanda watched her closely, glancing back at the house every few minutes. “Brian says you’re a bad influence on the children.” She rubbed her arms, and Emily noticed three finger-sized bruises there.

  “Has he been hurting you?”

  It was his style. Grabbing and shaking.

  “Shut up,” Amanda barked, then shifted on the wood planks of the porch. They didn’t creak. “Brian is going to take out an interdict against you, so you can’t see the kids again.”

  She almost doubled over from the shock of that. Mohammed Ali could’ve hit her in the stomach and it wouldn’t have hurt as much. If he took that out against her, she was done.

  No children, no Emily.

  They’d been her goal for so long, she couldn’t envision a future without them and she didn’t want to.

  What mother would?

  Finally, the rage had reached boiling point.

  “Now,” she began, leaning in and confronting Amanda head on, “you listen here, you bitch. I will NOT let my children go. They are my children and I will see them, no matter what you or that prick of a husband wants. You tell him that.”

  Amanda was silent, red as a beet and shaking.

  “You tell Brian that I’m coming. Emily is coming and she won’t back down.” She let it out in a contained growl, when really she wanted to rip the woman’s hair out the way she’d done with Isis.

  “I’ll never give them up. Don’t you ever forget that!”

  She turned and stormed off, back to the car. She unlocked it, slipped in and started the engine. Up at the house, the door was open. Brian stood there, framed in it, glaring at her as Amanda gesticulated beside him, explaining her presence no doubt.

  She took the grand liberty of flipping him off, before reversing out of the driveway and speeding off. The fire in her belly was back. There was a hole in her heart where Chase had been, but she’d fill it with anger if she had to. Scour away the pain so that she could survive.

  Either way, she’d get her kids back.

  She just had to figure out how.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Emily sat on top of a box, glaring at the clock on the wall. The movers were half an hour late and she was past ready to get the hell out of Chase’s apartment.

  She’d already found a new place. That was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise horrific week. She hadn’t been to the lawyers yet, but contacting the kids was out of the
question at the moment.

  Emily sighed and rooted around in her bag for a stick of gum.

  She missed Chase and she feared losing the kids for good, but every time she hit that depression she fed more anger into the system. Anger and gum: that was the key.

  She was an inch above that rocky bed and she sank lower each day. There was no escape from the truth here: she was a failure and this was her fault.

  At least she was outta there today.

  Emily checked the clock again. If those damn movers arrived any time soon.

  There was a knock at the door and she grinned. At last! She hopped off the box, patted down her skin tight jeans and strolled to open up for them.

  It wasn’t the movers.

  “Shouldn’t you have left by now?” Chastity stood there in her grandeur wearing – surprise, surprise – a black silk shirt and black wide-legged pants.

  “The movers are late. Can I help you with anything?” This wasn’t a pleasant surprise.

  Chastity pushed past her and into the apartment, studying the bare walls and floors. She stopped beside a stain on the carpet.

  “This place is a mess.”

  “That was here when I moved in. Looks like red wine to me.”

  “Hmph.” Chastity tucked her clutch against her rib cage and studied Emily carefully. “I’ve got a tenant moving in here this evening.”

  “You’ve got? I thought this was Chase’s apartment.” Saying his name stung.

  “I run the minor details in Chase’s business life.”

  “Right, and spend the rest of your time frequenting French restaurants. Do you usually dine alone or with an entourage?” Emily examined her nails and grimaced. They were cut short and neat, but they weren’t painted.

  It’d been months since she’d had a manicure.

  “No, usually I invite strippers out. You know, the kind who end up ensnaring my brother. Was it money you were after?”

  “I have no interest in your brother.” That was what she kept telling herself, and Chastity had called that bluff, if the expression of smug satisfaction she wore was anything to go on.

  “That’s good. Because he has no interest in you. The sooner you’re out of our lives, the better.”

  “You’re weirdly close with Chase. Weirdly.”

  “He’s my brother. We didn’t know each other when we were kids, so we’re making up for lost time. Trust me when I say that he values my opinion highly.”

  Her meaning was clear: if you were on Chastity’s bad side, you didn’t stand a chance with her brother.

  Why did that bother her? It couldn’t be true. Chase was his own person and he’d never let anything get in his path when Emily was around.

  It was the woman’s sheer arrogance. Like she deserved a place in his life and Emily was the scum who didn’t.

  “I think you should leave.” She didn’t need this aggravation. She had heart break and a psycho ex-husband to deal with, she didn’t want to add bitchy sister to the list.

  “Actually, this is partly my apartment, so I think you should leave. Now.”

  Emily leaned her hip against the steel kitchen counter. “My lease isn’t up yet and until it is, I have every right to be here and complete control over who comes and goes.”

  Chastity opened her mouth, but her phone trilled to life and she snapped it shut again. She took out her iPhone, glared at Emily for a moment, then slid her forefinger across the screen.

  “Bonjour,” she sang. “Oh, hello Janet darling. What’s that?”

  The annoying whine from the other end was telltale. Janet sure was excited about something. It was bad enough having to see the women around at work. Emily turned away so Chastity wouldn’t see her sour disdain.

  “That’s wonderful news, dear. Simply wonderful.”

  More chatter and shrieking from the other end.

  “Oh yes, I think I know someone who would appreciate this news. Congratulations. All right, now, bye. No, Janet,” Chastity cut off and the volume of nattering increased marginally, “Goodbye.”

  The woman in black gave a grunt of exasperation.

  “This is turning out to be a fantastic day.”

  Emily adjusted her position and glanced out the window. Still no moving truck.

  “Don’t you want to hear the news?”

  She didn’t answer. Whatever made Chastity happy would likely irritate the hell out of her.

  “I’ve just heard from dearest Janet. You know Janet, don’t you?”

  What a dumb question. “Yeah, you could say that.” Emily snatched up her handbag and brought out her own smartphone. No messages, no calls.

  “She’s engaged.”

  “What?” Emily’s heart skipped a beat. Either Janet had met someone else or…

  “That’s right. My brother has finally popped the question. I see he’s gotten over his intense need to run away from real love. Guess that means his stint with floozies is over.”

  She’d thought her heart was broken before, but those shattered pieces burst into dust which settled in every cell of her being. She was aflame.

  This couldn’t be happening. Janet was treacherous. She’d cheated on Chase and he’d marry her and end up unhappy in the end.

  “Oh my, have I said something to upset you?” Chastity took out a pair of black silk gloves and slipped them on. She raised a hand to her mouth in mock horror.

  “Get out of my apartment. Get out.” She didn’t shout it, she left her voice calm.

  Chastity narrowed her eyes. “How rude.” She ambled to the exit, nose in the air as if she’d smelled a turd.

  Emily followed her, opened the door and ushered her out with a sharp jerk of her head.

  She walked into the hall but glared back at her. “You’ll never get anywhere in life.”

  “Yeah, right. You look like an undertaker in black. And you’ve got a fat ass. Bonsoir.” She slapped the door closed in the sister’s horrified face.

  This was unbelievable. If Chase married Janet, she’d regret it forever. Not because she was madly in love with him – okay, she was, but that was beside the point – but because keeping quiet meant condemning him to a life of unhappiness.

  She had to do her part. If he wanted to marry Janet after he knew, then so be it. He was a fool and they deserved each other.

  The anger she held at him and at Janet, hell, even at Chastity disappeared in a puff of that dust.

  A sharp realization hit her in the chest: she wanted Chase to be happy, even if that meant him being with the redhead. Even if it meant never seeing him again.

  It was ultimately his choice to make. And if it was his choice, it couldn’t be her fault. How could she blame herself for his unhappiness, or anyone else’s, if she hadn’t made the choice to hurt them?

  Either way, he had to know the truth. Knowledge was power, and she had to do what was right and tell him before he made the biggest mistake of his life.

  There was another knock at the door. The movers had arrived.

  “Load it up and take it to this address. If I’m not there by the time you’re there, store it all in the garage. I left it open.”

  The surly guy with his cap on backwards gave a grunt of acceptance.

  Emily didn’t have time, she had to get to Chase.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The blonde secretary painted her nails with her tongue stuck between her teeth.

  “I’m here to see Chase Newman.” Emily hadn’t bothered to change, she’d pulled her hair back in a messy bun atop her head and dusted off the loose, sleeveless cotton shirt, but that was about it. She didn’t even have lip gloss.

  Blondie took her time finishing her pinky nail, then looked up languorously from beneath heavy fake lashes. “Name please.”

  Seriously? She’d forgotten in the span of a few days?

  “Emily. He’ll know who I am.”

  “Oh I bet.” The woman rolled her eyes and ran a finger down a register. “Sorry, he’s in a meeting.”


  “I can wait.”

  “You shouldn’t. He’s got meetings all day.” She yawned wide and blew on her wet nails.

  “I –”

  “Hi, I’d like to see Chase Newman.” A man walked up beside her, carrying a heavy briefcase and wearing a suit.

  “Name please.”

  “Gregory Lyon.”

  The receptionist flickered her eyelids and ran that finger down the register again. “Good day, Mr. Lyon. Please, go right up.”

  Gregory gave his thanks, straightened his dinosaur patterned tie and marched off to the elevator, which waited open for him.

  “What the hell was that?” Emily asked, leaning over the glass surface of the desk.

  “Hmmm? Are you still here? Mr. Newman has a busy schedule I’m afraid. He won’t be seeing anyone today.”

  Emily was dumbfounded. Was this bitch crazy?

  The receptionist gave her a fake smile and returned to the nail polish.

  This was utter bullshit. Chase was obviously avoiding and she couldn’t let that fly. She had to get up there to see him.

  “I want an appointment.”

  Blondie gave an almighty sigh and didn’t glance up. “Sorry, he’s fully booked.”

  “For today?”

  “For the rest of his life. Get the picture already.”

  Emily reached across, picked up the nail polish sans brush and tossed it against the wall behind the receptionist’s head. It shattered, spraying shimmery pink polish across the wall and the back of her head.

  “Jesus! What’s wrong with you?”

  Emily didn’t grant her an answer. She marched to the elevator and punched the shiny button for the twelfth floor. She was tired of being messed with. She wasn’t even angry with the idiotic woman, but she wouldn’t let anything get in her way from now on.

  A goal was a goal.

  She entered the elevator and waited for the doors to open.

  “I’m calling security,” the woman shrieked from the desk. Emily entered the steel box, turned and gave the pink-dotted lady a cheery wink and a wave.

  Her bravado disappeared when the doors slid open again. The twelfth floor was exactly the same as she’d remembered it, except the glass box with the conference table was filled with men in suits.