The Debt: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Kelly Favor

  Helpless.

  They were lighting him and setting up cameras.

  There was a frantic energy in the room that Faith could only equate to the moments before a big football game.

  She found herself biting her nails and praying.

  Just let this all be okay. Please, God.

  It had all happened so fast.

  Chase getting that phone call saying that his mother’s killer had been caught and imprisoned based on old DNA evidence. Chase finding out that the man who’d been like a father to him—Charles Boogie—was the man who’d murdered his mother in cold blood all those years ago.

  And now, Chase deciding that he was going public to tell the truth. The whole truth about his life.

  Meghan Cowell sat down in the chair opposite Chase and got her microphone attached and the makeup artists touched up her face and hair.

  She looked beautiful, as always.

  As Faith watched, someone grabbed her bicep lightly. She turned and found herself face-to-face with a young man holding a clipboard. “Excuse me. We need to clear the room. Only necessary personnel or staff should be in studio during filming.”

  Faith cleared her throat. “Yes, but I’m with him. He—he asked me to come.”

  “Sure, but you can watch from the monitors outside,” the clipboard guy said in a low, almost confidential tone of voice.

  Faith felt her shoulders slump and she nodded. It hurt to be excluded. She was frightened and anxious and wanted to be with Chase during this intense experience.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Follow me.” The young man turned and Faith moved to follow him.

  “Hey,” she heard Chase raise his voice. “Why is my girlfriend leaving?”

  Faith stopped and turned.

  Chase was looking at them with a disapproving stare.

  “This is a closed set,” the man stammered. “It’s customary—“

  “I don’t give a shit. She stays in here with me or I walk.” Chase glared at the man, who looked to Meghan.

  She gave a tense smile. “Sure,” Meghan said lightly. “She can stay. Just keep quiet, all right?”

  Faith nodded and returned to where she had been standing, and the man with the clipboard moved away.

  And now the cameras were in position and everyone was quieting down, as the director stood nearby, just a few feet from the two chairs where Chase and Meghan sat.

  “Okay, we’re going to start filming in two minutes, folks.”

  Meghan turned to Chase. “Just be yourself and everything will be fine,” she said.

  “Famous last words,” Chase responded.

  And then filming started.

  Faith found herself clenching her hands into tight little fists as she watched the interview, and it was as though her eyesight had dialed down into just a small circle encompassing Chase and Meghan Cowell and nothing else.

  The blond interviewer settled into her chair and gave Chase a long look as the cameras rolled.

  “So,” she said. “I think the first thing everyone wants to know is; who is Chase Winters?”

  Chase gazed intently at Meghan Cowell. His dark eyes were intense, and he had what Faith could only describe as a thousand yard stare. It was the look of someone who’d been through and seen more than anyone could imagine.

  His large body was almost comic in the tiny chair, and he shifted his weight and sat up straighter. “Who is Chase Winters?” he asked, as if confused by the question.

  Meghan nodded. “We know the story. Boy from Detroit becomes star athlete and makes good. Sends brother to college. Becomes the best paid athlete in the league.” She clasped her hands together. “But there’s more to the story than that. Who are you really?”

  Chase sat there and didn’t speak. The silence grew so extended that some of the people in the room began exchanging glances.

  She even heard a voice whisper behind her.

  “What’s with this guy?”

  Meghan Cowell’s brow furrowed as she waited.

  Faith didn’t know what she wanted to see. Part of her hoped that Chase would just clam up and never say a word. That the interview would end and she and Chase could leave the studio and start over. Pretend none of these things had happened, forget all of the secrets that were better left in the dark.

  Because knowing that Chase was about to spill his deepest, darkest secrets on a show that would be seen by millions, maybe even hundreds of millions of people—frightened her dearly.

  Finally, Chase spoke. His voice sounded authoritative and deep, but there was emotion in his throat. She could see it, even though he was controlling it as best he could.

  “I was born in the slums of Detroit,” he said. “I didn’t know my father and my mother was a prostitute, murdered when I was still a kid.” Chase stroked his chin lightly as he continued. “From a young age, I ran the streets. I was part of a gang, and I routinely robbed and assaulted both innocent citizens as well as other rival gang members.”

  “Did you sell or distribute drugs? Narcotics?” Meghan asked softly.

  Chase nodded, his dark gaze intensifying even more.

  Now there was electricity in the room that was palpable and riveting. Nobody moved a muscle.

  “I sold drugs,” Chase said. “Everything from marijuana to coke to crack and heroin. I used that money to provide for me and my brother.”

  “Have you ever been incarcerated?” Meghan continued.

  “As a juvenile, I did about eight months for robbery.” His eyes didn’t waver.

  “Why have you lied about your past to the public and the media?” Meghan said, crossing her legs.

  “I was told to lie by my handlers—by my agents, manager, the league, anyone and everyone who was there to help me. I was told to lie about my past. They helped me cover up my history so that I could have the kind of image the public would love. I was told to pretend to be God-fearing; a good man who helped his brother, got good grades and made it to the top of the game.”

  “Is there anything true about your public image? And why have you decided to come forward with the truth now?”

  Chase looked down momentarily. When he looked up again, his eyes were wet with unshed tears. “The reason I decided to tell the truth is simple. I met someone who changed my life,” he said. And then he glanced to Faith. It was so brief, but unmistakable. He looked back at Meghan. “I met someone good, and…I realized I don’t want to live a lie anymore. There are things I need to put right.”

  “People are going to say that you’re still the same liar as before,” Meghan Cowell told him, her voice soft, but her expression toughening. “They’re going to say you’re covering up, trying to deflect attention away from your recent poor performances in New England. They’re going to say that we can’t believe anything you say, since you’ve already shown us that you can’t be trusted.”

  Chase gave an almost imperceptible shrug of his muscular shoulders. “I don’t give a shit,” he said, grinning slightly.

  “Why is that?” Meghan asked.

  “I’m doing this for me,” he told her. “I’m doing this for me and for the woman I love, because I want her to be able to respect me.”

  Faith just stared, unable to even react. She shivered, her entire body breaking into gooseflesh.

  She’d thought that this crusade was about his mother’s death, and Boogie being caught.

  And now it turned out that Chase was coming clean because of her.

  He just admitted on national TV that he’s doing all of this for me.

  “I have more to say,” Chase told the blond woman. “And it’s going to make a lot of people very angry.”

  The interview was finished.

  Chase tore off his mike and dropped it on the floor next to him as he stood up.

  Faith was still shaking from the enormity of what she’d just witnessed.

  You could literally have heard a pin drop in the room. And then something very surprising happened.

&n
bsp; Someone started to clap and then slowly others followed suit. Before long, the entire room was clapping and then whistling and cheering for him. Even Meghan Cowell and Sherm Edwards were clapping.

  Chase looked around the room, almost like he thought he was in a dream.

  When the applause died down, Meghan extended her hand to him. “That was one of the most amazing interviews I’ve ever had the honor to conduct,” she said. “Thank you, Chase.”

  He shook her hand, smiling a little. “Thanks,” he muttered.

  And then he turned and grabbed Faith by the hand. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get the hell out of this place.”

  “Mister Winters,” Sherm called out. “Just a moment. We have those contracts for you to sign.”

  Chase slowed his pace. “Shit,” he mumbled.

  They went to the office and sat at the same table they’d been at earlier, only now it was just Chase and Faith and the legal team. They placed several contracts before him and told him to read and sign.

  Chase hardly glanced at them before signing.

  Faith grabbed his thigh and squeezed. “Don’t you at least want to show those to your lawyer?” she asked, remembering the kind of trouble she’d gotten into when she hadn’t paid close enough attention to what she’d signed.

  “No,” Chase said. “I already made up my mind on this.”

  “But—“

  He raised a hand and gave her a look. “Faith, I decided. I signed. It’s done.”

  She nodded mutely.

  Sherm returned to collect the contracts. He looked at them, nodding and sighing. “Wow,” he said. “This is going to be big.” He looked up and gave Chase and Faith an appraising glance. “Are you ready for the explosion?”

  Chase stood up again. “I’m used to getting some attention from the media,” he said.

  “I’m sure you are,” Sherm said. “But this is going to be different, I think. It might get a little hairy out there for some time.”

  “If you think this is harder than fighting for my life on the streets of Detroit, then maybe you should come visit my old neighborhood some time.” Chase grinned, as he grasped onto Faith’s hand again.

  “We’ll be starting to tease the interview almost immediately,” Sherm told them. “Probably within the next few hours. Clips will be spreading like wildfire. If I were you, I’d be safely hidden away for a few days. We’ll be airing the entire episode tomorrow night. Primetime special.”

  Faith grabbed onto Chase’s arm and felt herself sway from the shock of it.

  “Primetime, huh?” Chase laughed. “Like Monday night football.”

  “Exactly,” Sherm said. “Exactly right, Chase.”

  A few minutes later, Faith and Chase were leaving the office, going down the elevators and leaving the building together.

  “I can’t believe what you did in there,” she said softly, as they exited.

  Chase stopped walking and looked at her as they stood on the sidewalk out front. “I did it for you,” he said.

  “I don’t understand. I never asked for that.”

  “I know. But if I’m going to be the kind of man you deserve, I have to come clean. I want to be someone you can be proud to call your guy.”

  Faith felt a huge smile breaking out on her face. “I’ve never been more proud of anyone in my life than I was watching you today. It was amazing.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, first gently and then passionately. A few passersby yelled out at them.

  When Faith broke away from the kiss, his face was flushed. “I don’t care who sees us,” he told her.

  “Me either. I’ll do anything you need,” she said. “Anything.”

  They continued holding hands, walking down the street towards Chase’s car. Soon after, they were in the car and driving.

  “Where should we go now?” Faith asked.

  “Home,” he replied. “Where else?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, picking at her lower lip anxiously. “He said things are going to get pretty crazy. Maybe we should go check into a hotel under an assumed name or something.”

  Chase laughed loudly. “Shit, girl. You do surprise me sometimes. Assumed names? Who are we, Bonnie and Clyde?”

  She laughed too. “I don’t know. I’m starting to think so—“

  Suddenly, she felt a jolt as they were struck from behind by another vehicle.

  “Fuck,” Chase said, looking in the rearview mirror. “Goddamn idiot rear-ended me.”

  “It didn’t seem too bad.”

  He put on his signal and pulled over to the side of the road. “Wait here,” he told Faith, as he put the car in park and got out.

  Faith turned around, craning her head to see out the back window of the car.

  There was a dark sedan parked behind them with its flashers on.

  Chase was walking towards the sedan when she got an awful feeling. “Chase!” she cried out. She fumbled for the door handle and opened it. “Chase, be careful!” she cried, realizing that there was something amiss.

  Chase glanced back at her. “What?” he said, his expression puzzled.

  And then understanding dawned on him as the doors of the sedan opened and three very large men got out of the car.

  Faith got out of the car, too. “Leave him alone!” she shouted. “Help!”

  One of the men had a gun. The man with the pistol pointed at Chase didn’t speak.

  “Step into my office,” one of the other men said. He was big, but a little older, and worn looking. He had thinning black hair and a mustache that drooped at the corners of his mouth. The man pointed to his sedan.

  “Fuck that,” Chase said. “I’m not getting in that car.”

  The mustachioed man tilted his head towards Faith. “Okay, then,” he said.

  The big man with the gun quickly stepped over and grabbed her by the wrist and jabbed the gun into her ribs.

  Faith cried out.

  “You hurt her and I will end you,” Chase said. He was breathing heavily, turning his head from left to right, looking like a caged lion.

  “Get in the car tough guy, or I’ll tell my buddy to paint the street with her insides. Sound good?” the mustachioed man said. His voice sounded very familiar.

  And then she remembered why.

  It was that man from Club Alpha that she’d spoken to on the phone. Max Mendez.

  Chase seemed resigned. He slowly approached the sedan and got inside. Max Mendez looked at Faith. “Bring her, too. Put her up front so this clown knows we mean business.”

  The man with the gun grabbed her tight around the arm and stuffed the gun hard into her back, then steered her, pushing her towards the menacing black sedan.

  He opened the door and sat her down, then got in next to her and shoved her over, slamming the door shut.

  In the back, Chase was sandwiched between Max Mendez and another goon.

  “What do you want?” Chase asked Max.

  “We’re very, very concerned about you, Chase,” Max said.

  “You should’ve just called.”

  “No, this needs more than a call.”

  Faith turned her head and looked back to see what was going on. Chase looked like a bull about to go wild. Max from Club Alpha was dripping sweat and looked ready to give the order for them to be killed at any moment.

  Her insides went soft and she felt like she might be sick.

  The gun was still pressed into her ribcage, and the man sitting next to her was watching her with dead eyes. He smelled of strong, cheap cologne.

  “So what’s the problem?” Chase said. “You guys are supposed to work for me.”

  Max laughed a deep, phlegmy laugh. “Sure, we do. We work for you. Are you really that dumb?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Too many concussions,” Max said. “I guess that’s why you went to Vox News, huh?”

  “They were just doing a little interview,” Chase said. “It was a puff piece about the upcoming game.”


  “Don’t lie to me,” Max said. And then he gave a nod of his head towards the front.

  Suddenly, the man next to Faith grabbed her by the hair and yanked hard. Hard enough to really hurt her. She screamed.

  Chase moved as if to do something about it.

  “Sit back or we do worse to her,” Max threatened loudly. “I am not fucking around. Don’t be a hero. Just sit still and listen the fuck to me.”

  Chase was breathing heavily through his nostrils. He looked almost insane, his eyes wild.

  Faith was sweating now, too. She was starting to realize that this was all real.

  Like, really real. Chase had pissed off some very powerful, very mean people.

  And she might pay for it with her life.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered to the man next to her.

  His dead eyes didn’t even flinch.

  “Okay,” Chase muttered. “I’m listening. Just…don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever you want, Max.”

  “That’s better,” Max said. “That’s a good boy.” A bead of sweat dripped down his cheek and dropped onto his shirt collar. “Now, here’s the deal. You’re going to walk back to Vox News and tell them the story’s not going to air. You tell them if they air it, even one little segment, you’ll sue them. Tell them you’re not in your right mind and you’re checking into rehab. Tell them it was all lies. Got it?”

  Chase nodded his head. “Okay. Yeah. But what if they don’t listen and air it anyway? I already signed contracts.”

  “They won’t air it if you tell them you’re nuts. Certifiable. We’ll get an upstanding psychiatrist to back us up. Give you a few days of rest and relaxation at one of those country club hospitals with grass tennis courts and shit.”

  “I’ll do it. Of course I’ll do it,” Chase said. “Just promise me you won’t hurt her.”

  “We keep her until we’re sure the interview isn’t airing,” Max said. “If anything so much as leaks out on YouTube—we will make sure you never see her alive again. This is not a fucking joke,” Max said. “The people who pay us are not happy, asshole. You fucked with the wrong people this time.”

  “I see that,” Chase said softly.

  “Yeah, we’re not some street thugs from Detroit,” Max spat. “You thugs think you’re really tough and then you shit your drawers when I come around.”