Caught in the Chase (Caught Series Book 3)

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Caught in the Chase (Caught Series Book 3) Page 29

by Kacey Shea


  “She said no.” The voice is strong and jolts me back to the present.

  “Fuck off, man. She’s fine.” The dimpled stranger grunts. His hard body presses against me, his hands on my skin.

  Then they’re not.

  “Get the fuck out of here!” It’s Chase. He shoves the man back hard. He’s who pulls the stranger off me. Together side by side, the men aren’t even comparable in stature. Chase’s strong, lean body towers over the other man.

  “Whatever, man. She’s not worth it.” His bravado gets lost in his hasty retreat.

  She’s not worth it. She’s not worth it. His words ring like truth in my ears. My head lolls back with a thud, smacking the wall hard enough I should feel something, but I don’t.

  “Alicia?” Chase’s solid arms hold me upright. One of his palms moves to my hip.

  I don’t want his touch to feel so good. But it does.

  His hand cups my chin and tilts my gaze to meet his. Chocolate. Gooey, melted, tasty chocolate. It’s the color of his eyes, and I get lost in their concern. “Leesh, you okay? Shit.” Chase’s hands move along my body, roving as if to find proof of my wellbeing. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  He? Right. I pinch my eyes shut at the memory. At how that stranger stole my consent. How he would have raped me if Chase hadn’t found us. That’s the thought that pushes my eyes open again. My lips tremble and my body begins to shake. “He.” I choke out the word.

  “It’s okay, Alicia.” Chase pulls my body tight to his. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” His words comfort like a balm.

  I lean into him. I sink into his solace. God, he feels good.

  He’s not mine. I know this but I don’t care. I just want someone to hold me. To ground me and pull me back into this moment. And he feels so nice. So safe. Warm, but not in that way that makes me want to push him away. No, he’s got that body that says come curl up right here and I’ll take care of you.

  So I let him.

  Even though it’s wrong. Even though I shouldn’t because he isn’t mine at all. You deserve this. You deserve to feel wanted. Let him be the one to show you. The voice inside my head whispers over the one that’s trying to process what just happened. What the other man just did.

  I don’t want to listen to that voice at all. So instead I glance up and meet the gorgeous melty, glassy brown orbs of my best friend’s boyfriend. Pushing onto the tips of my toes, I wrap my arms around his neck and tug him to my lips.

  There’s no struggle. No hesitation, or push and pull. He comes willingly and seals my lips with his own. I melt. I really do. All my thoughts fade and I relish the safety, comfort, and passion of this man.

  “Chase. More,” I rasp between kisses.

  He groans, a tortured, lustful sound that shoots another round of desire through every molecule of my body. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s him. But I feel high, and every touch of his strong hands as they move down my sides, to my hips, and over my ass is more powerful than any narcotic.

  My back hits the wall. His body presses against mine. I bend a knee and lift my leg to wrap it around him, grinding against his arousal. More. I want more. Desire, thick and heavy floods my body. I want him to take everything from me. I want him to want me this way—the same way I’ve been wanting him.

  “Fuck, yes, Alicia. God, you’re so hot.”

  He wants me, but he’s with Callie. My best friend. My trusting, naïve, innocent friend who’s probably waiting for both of us in the other room. Self-hatred crawls up my spine, a familiar friend. Wrong. This is so wrong.

  But he feels so right. Or maybe that’s the lie I’ve convinced myself of.

  She’s not worth it. The stranger’s words are back in my brain, playing on repeat, morphing into a truth I’ve been told time and time again. I’m not like Callie. I don’t get the boyfriend who’s after a relationship. I get the hot guy who’s down for a quick fuck behind his girlfriend’s back. I’m not worth more.

  A gasp pulls me from my thoughts.

  We both whirl toward the sound. Shit. Callie’s wide eyes instantly fill with tears, her stare penetrating. Hurt. Broken. She turns and runs before I can react.

  Chase pulls away, regret and disappointment etched in his handsome features. He turns to go after her. “Callie!” Guilt and panic crack his voice.

  I reach for him, stumbling forward before I catch my balance. My head still swims with disorientation. “It was an accident. We drank too much.” I don’t know why, but I hand him an excuse, words filled with enough truth I almost believe them. Only I knew this was Chase. I knew I was playing with fire every time I flirted with him, or threw him an appreciative stare. I might be more drunk than I’ve ever been, but I wasn’t passed out. I knew I was kissing my best friend’s boyfriend. I could have stopped things at any time, but I didn’t.

  Chase shakes his head, not even meeting my eyes, and then he’s off. Running after her. Because he’s with her. He cares about her. Of course he does. What did I expect? I’m not worth it. I’m not worth him. I’m not worth anyone.

  59

  Alicia

  “Alicia? Alicia, babe. Time to get up.”

  I jolt awake, my heart racing and blood rushing in my ears. Remnants of my vivid dream filter through my mind as I blink away the sleepy haze. It takes me a second to remember where I am and what day it is. Yesterday, I spent most of the day on the beach with Callie and Jill, but today’s weather took a turn for the worse. We walked to lunch and strolled through several shops before coming back to the hotel to nap.

  “Hey, we’re leaving for dinner soon.” Callie sits at the edge of the bed, her face full of concern. It’s dark in the hotel room but for the light of the television. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “What time is it?” My pulse is still pounding at the memory of that night so long ago. The one in which I almost picked Chase over my best friend. Conflict swirls in my gut. Is history repeating itself? Have I learned nothing from the past? My conscience is heavy with guilt—both for then and this summer.

  “It’s almost eight o’clock.” Callie pouts, staring out the window and flicking on one of the lamps. “Lucille is fucking up our plans.”

  Maybe I’m still dreaming because I have no clue what she’s talking about. “Luc—?”

  “The tropical storm.” She points to the television. “Now they say there’s a chance it could escalate to a Category One hurricane. Poor Georgia. They’re gonna get hit the worst. Well, unless it turns.” Callie sighs, then laughs when she glances back to me. “You must’ve really needed that nap. You’re totally out of it. And you have a giant pillow crease down the side of your face.”

  “I do?” I stand up to see my reflection in the mirror. I attempt to smooth out my skin, as if it’s some sheet to unwrinkle. “Ugh.”

  “Don’t worry, we’re just going down to the hotel restaurant.” She turns toward the bathroom door. “If someone hurries the hell up! Come on Jill, I’m starving!”

  The door swings open and Jill walks out wrapped in a towel, her wet hair brushed back from her face. “Almost ready!” She walks over to her suitcase. “Oh, hello Sleeping Beauty. How nice of you to wake up, what with us driving down here to see you.”

  I groan, pulling my suitcase over so I can fix my makeup and brush my hair. “You guys should’ve woken me. I’m the worst.”

  “I’m just giving you shit. It’s not like we could’ve spent the day on the beach anyway.” Jill tugs on a pair of jeans, then turns her back to slip on a bra and T-shirt. “Fucking Lucille.”

  “Fucking Lucille.” I agree because it’s easier to cuss out the weather than come clean with my best friends. This summer fling with Chase is complicated. I can’t blame my decisions on alcohol like before. I was fully aware of the consequences, and yet I slept with him anyway. The only rationale for keeping it from Jill and Callie is how much it will hurt them. They won’t understand, but how could they? They haven’t witnessed how much Chase has
changed. They’ll never fully comprehend the mind of an addict. It’s better to keep this from them. After all, it won’t last past the summer. Hell, after how I lashed out, it’s probably already over.

  It’s that thought that has me pulling out my phone, wishing I could call him. Is he okay? I said some horrible things. We both did. But did I push him toward a relapse? Oh, God. Panic claws up my spine. What have I done?

  “All right,” Jill says, slipping her feet into a pair of Vans. “Let’s go get carb wasted.”

  Callie jumps to her feet and fist pumps the air. “Hell, yeah!”

  I grin, determined to push aside any negativity for the rest of the night. I won’t ruin the rest of our time together. These two women have embraced my sobriety. I can’t let them down. They’re with me for the long haul, and that kind of friendship isn’t something to take lightly. I slip on a pair of sandals and follow them out our hotel room door, wrapping my arms around their shoulders as we march for the elevator. “My best bitches.”

  I don’t think any of us realize how serious the storm is until we make it down to the lobby. The check-out desk is packed with a line, while other guests and employees huddle around the television screens at the bar. We pause to watch from afar, the headlines “Possible Hurricane,” “Landfall by Monday,” and “Latest Projections Heading North” jump out as if they were billboards in Times Square.

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” Jill says. But I’m not sure that’s the case. Everyone’s been chatting about the storm, but not once was it projected to sweep this way.

  “Come on, let’s eat.” Callie loops her hands through each of our arms.

  Anxiety for the damage a storm of this magnitude could cause consumes my thoughts as we walk to the dining room. Always living inland, I’ve never worried about hurricanes. A really bad one might bring days of rain, a little flooding, or a few power outages, but that’s it. Here, with everyone living so close to the water, I don’t know what to expect.

  We sit down for dinner and attempt to keep the conversation light, but it’s impossible when our phones ping with an extreme weather notification.

  “I’m going to call Cam,” Jill says, pushing away from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, my worry extending to my friends. I don’t want them stuck in this mess. They weren’t planning on driving back until tomorrow afternoon, but I don’t see that being safe. I hate they put in all this effort to spend the weekend with me, and this storm is ruining our fun. Most of all I hate how I left things with Chase. That all I’ve done is worry he’s out there drinking and it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been so honest. The truth doesn’t always set you free, sometimes it breaks your damn heart.

  “Hey, don’t freak out,” Callie says from across the table, misreading my unease. “It’s going to be okay.”

  I wish that were true, but I don’t see how.

  My phone rings, vibrating from its spot on the table. I don’t recognize the number. For a second I think it might be Chase, or maybe it’s just that I want it to be him. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Alicia, it’s Laura. I’m sorry to call so late.”

  “It’s no problem,” I say, and glance across the table to where Callie watches me with concern.

  “I don’t know if you’ve caught the news or looked outside, but that storm hanging off the coast shows a possibility of hitting our way. Might be upgraded to a Cat One hurricane by morning. Our community center is one of the sites for people to stay if the town isn’t evacuated. We’re calling all the staff in tonight for an emergency meeting. I was hoping you could make it.”

  “Of course. Anything you need. Just tell me where I need to be.”

  “Can you be here in an hour? Sorry, I know that’s late.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you. Oh, and Alicia? Pack a bag just in case. I don’t know if we’ll lose power, or when the roads will be impassable.”

  “Oh, okay.” My gut churns with dread. We say our good-byes and I quickly fill Callie in on what my supervisor said. I finish as Jill returns, her face somber and determined as she sinks into her chair.

  “Bad news,” she says as a server comes out with our food. “Can we get those to go?” Jill says before he has a chance to set them down. “Please?”

  “Of course.” He nods and takes the food away. Good thing too, because I can’t imagine eating anything.

  “Cam says we need to get on the road as soon as possible. He thinks the roads will get bad the longer we wait. Especially if they issue an evacuation,” Jill says to Callie and then reaches for my arm. “I’m really sorry, Alicia. I saw this weekend going a lot differently. Do you want to ride with us or caravan back to Richmond?”

  My brow furrows with her implication. “I can’t leave. I just got called into an emergency meeting.”

  “Sorry.” Her brows lift, her gaze bouncing between me and Callie. “I assumed you wouldn’t want to stay for this.”

  I made a commitment to the community center. My spine prickles with defensiveness. “I can’t just abandon my internship or the people we serve.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Alicia. That’s not what I meant.”

  “No. I know. It’s fine.” I have got to stop making everyone else the bad guy. The last thing I want is to get in some stupid argument right before they leave. I’m on edge but that’s no excuse. Jill’s only concerned for my safety.

  “And there’s another thing.” Jill turns to Callie. “We might need to pick up Chase.”

  My ears perk up at the mention of him, but my phone rings again. This time my mom’s name flashes across the caller ID. Of course she chooses this moment to call. It’s not bad enough there’s a massive storm headed this way, or that my friends are leaving and I’m desperate to listen in on their conversation. Now I need to have it out with my mother.

  “Go ahead.” Jill gestures for me to take the call. “We’ll wait here for the food.”

  But I don’t want to take the call. I want to hear about Chase. I want to know where he is and if he’s safe. Only I can’t do that. Not with my mother calling and my friends’ expectant stares waiting for me to pick up the damn phone. I push away from the table and answer as I walk out to the hall. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Alicia! Baby! I just saw the news!”

  “Yeah.” I sigh, bracing myself for her dramatics. “It’s pretty bad.”

  “Pretty bad! Honey, you’re about to be in the middle of a hurricane. You need to get home. Immediately, before they shut the roads. I can’t have you out in that mess. It’s not safe.”

  I hate it when she tells me what to do. That she still thinks she can make decisions for me as if I’m a child. “I’m not leaving.”

  “But they’re calling for evacuations! I’m watching the news right now.”

  I exhale a breath, holding back my frustration. “I have a meeting at the center in about an hour. If they ask us to leave, I will drive someplace safe.” Not my parents’ house. “They have experience with these situations.”

  “Alicia.” She exhales roughly, the sound making it through the line. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”

  “Okay, we’re done now.” I don’t want to argue with her. I’m not interested in a fight. “I love you. I will be safe. I need to go.”

  “Alicia!”

  I don’t hear the rest. I end the call and stalk back to the dining room. Jill and Callie meet me halfway. Jill hands me my bag. Callie passes me one of the to-go boxes.

  “Bon appetite.”

  “Thank you,” I say as we make our way back to the bank of elevators. I wish I could ask them about Chase, but I can’t. I’m not supposed to care about him. Not after I chose to hide our relationship from them. God, what a mess I’ve made. “How much do I owe you?” I dig into my bag to retrieve my wallet.

  “It’s our treat.” Callie says, her smile sad. “I’m just bummed we already have to leave.”

&
nbsp; “Me, too.”

  “I hate good-byes.” Jill presses the call button, her finger tapping nervously at her side.

  “Then let’s not say them.” I swallow back the surge of emotion at the thought of having to let these two women go. “And please drive safe. Let me know when you make it back.”

  The elevator doors slide open and we hustle inside.

  “We will.” Callie promises, her eyes wide with worry. Like the clouds that wouldn’t leave the beach, a haze hangs over us. The distress of the approaching storm threatens to steal the last ounces of joy from this moment. The concern on her face is enough to send a fresh bout of worry through my thoughts. “I hate leaving you behind,” she says. “I wish you could come with us.”

  I wish for a lot of things, too.

  60

  Chase

  The incessant ringing of my phone pulls me from sleep. Fuck. What time is it? I pat around on the bedside table as my eyes open in the almost pitch-black room. I grab my cell and slide my finger along the screen to answer. “Hello?”

  “Chase. Oh, good, I got you.”

  I sit upright, recognizing the voice immediately. “Uncle Rob?”

  “Are you still at the house?” I pull the phone away, checking to make sure in fact this is my uncle calling and I’m not dreaming. My brow furrows at the time. Four in the morning is a bit of an early wake up call. Where else would he think I am?

  “I’m here.” I scrub a hand across my face to wipe away the remnants of sleep. There’s a crash and a thud from outside, the storm no doubt tossing some of the furniture around the deck below. “What’s up?”

  “Have you seen the news?”

  “I haven’t.” Shit. There’s another bang against the house. I need to get up and move that stuff in now.

  “Tropical storm Lucille is headed right for Kitty Hawk.”

 

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