Chain of Title

by Robyn Roze

  As he landed on the last step, he heard the sound growing louder, beckoning from the kitchen. Approaching the bar sink, he could see Shayna’s purse next to it, spotlighted by the milky moonbeams streaming down from the skylight above it. It looked like her cell had slid out and onto the counter when she tossed her purse there earlier. Now the slim phone was skittering aimlessly along the concrete surface. When he saw who was calling, his lip involuntarily tugged upward in loathing. Picking up the phone, he slid the icon across the screen to take the call.

  “It’s about damn time, Shay,” Frank barked in aggravation. “I’ve been worried about you. I didn’t like the way you left today.” He paused, sighing. “Neither of us planned what happened, but damn it, sweetheart, it did. I’m sorry if I scared you. I’ve just missed you so much, and...I lost control. It’ll never happen again. I’ll make it up to you. I promise. We should’ve worked this out a long time ago, Shay, and now we will—I’m sure of it.”

  Ice flooded Sean’s veins as every conceivable method of destroying Frank Chastain streamed through his vision in high definition.

  “But first, you have to do what I told you to do,” he said with tension building in his voice. “Get rid of him, Shay! His fucking car is in your driveway. Why?”

  Sean’s head snapped back and he quickly rounded the corner and strode swiftly through the hall leading to the front doors. He cracked a door open and scanned the area. He almost missed it in the mist and shadows, but there it was. A black Mercedes in the distance, lights off. Sean craned his ear and diverted all other senses to pinpoint and hear that one spot. Yes, it was idling. He darted back down the hall, cut through the kitchen and into the mudroom. Entering the garage, he immediately moved to the wall with the obligatory home tools hanging on it and ripped off the heaviest claw hammer.

  “Answer me, Shayna. Why is he still there? Do I need to come in and take care of it myself?” he ground out angrily.

  “I’ll take care of it—myself,” Sean threatened ominously as he punched through the service door, tracking swiftly across the grass and trudging up onto the narrow paved road. He began a determined march straight for the Mercedes a few hundred feet away. Frank’s surprise at who had been listening on the phone was evident from the sharp inhale Sean heard in the receiver.

  “You’re a dead man walking, Chastain. You’d better say your goodbyes while you still can,” he hissed. Sean’s pace hastened. With the thick trees, tall grasses, cloud-covered moon and the angle at which Frank’s car sat parked, Mother Nature had provided Sean with cover and the opportunity for a surprise attack.

  “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, sport, but I’m done playing games with you. I make the rules, not you. You’re a piss-ant who owns a shitty little restaurant, and I’m going to squash you under my shoe.”

  “You’re done when I say you’re done, old man. How do you feel about prison?” Sean was close now, and slid into the murky shadows to stake out Frank, who was sitting with a phone to his ear and facing the house, leaving Sean in his blind spot.

  Frank snorted. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I know you could be sent to prison for any number of fraudulent business practices—and now rape. You might want to consider turning yourself in, if you’re fond of your head being attached to your body.” Then Sean let out a sour laugh. “I should warn you though; you won’t even be safe from me in prison.”

  Sean bolted from his hiding spot with his arm swung back to allow for maximum force as he brought the hammer down against the windshield. Frank’s eyes popped in recognition and fear just before the first shattering blow. He threw the car into gear, tires squealing and started to peel away as the second blow came down cracking the windshield further and making visibility nearly impossible. Sean was able to get a glancing blow on the driver side window as the car sped past, and he looked on as the brake lights flashed on in the distance.

  He could hear Frank attempting to kick the useless windshield away so that he could navigate the narrow, circuitous road ahead. Then Sean started jogging toward the crippled Mercedes. Just as Frank accomplished his task and began once again to make his getaway, Sean used all of his strength to launch the hammer end over end through the back windshield.

  Frank Chastain tore away like a bat out of hell.

  And Sean Parker intended to send him back.

  ****

  Shayna awoke to the sound of voices, drills, and hammering. She sat up and looked around the room. Sean was gone. Quickly getting dressed and running a brush through her tangled mess of hair, she made her way downstairs to the sight of men working inside and outside her house.

  “Hey, gorgeous, sorry about all of the commotion,” Sean said, as he approached her with an apologetic expression.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, as he cupped her face in his hand, landing a soft kiss on her forehead.

  “Security system. Best they make. My old friend Jerry Kent is handling it himself.”

  “Kent Security?” Sean nodded. “I’ve heard of them. That’s who you used for Gaetano’s, isn’t it?” He nodded again and handed her a hot cup of coffee. “Why are you doing this? Especially without talking to me about it first.”

  “I want you to pack a bag for a few days. We’re going away—on the boat,” he said casually, then sipped his coffee as if there was nothing to discuss.

  “That’s it? No discussion? No answers?”

  He clasped her hand and led her upstairs to her bedroom where he closed the door.

  “Look, it’d be better for everyone if we’re gone while the system is being installed—it’s extensive. We both love the water and being on the boat. We need to get away for a little while. It’ll be good for both of us. We need this, Shay.”

  She watched him with skepticism. “What’s really going on, Sean? Is the hair on the back of my neck standing up for a good reason?”

  He forced a faint smile with a worn expression. She couldn’t stand the look in his eyes right now. It made her feel like he thought she was weak and breakable. Like she couldn’t take care of herself. Of course, she recognized he was only reflecting what she already felt about herself. That bothered her more than anything.

  “You know I don’t like being given orders,” she chastised.

  “I haven’t given you any orders, Shay,” he replied in a level tone. He moved into her space and tilted her face up to him. “But I do need you to give me something.” He paused and stroked her cheek gently. “Your trust. I need you to trust me to protect you, to take care of you, to do what’s best for you.” She felt hot tears stinging at the back of her eyes from his heavy emotion-filled eyes and words. “It’s the only way I’m going to get through this. Please don’t fight me on it,” he whispered, with a rough tenderness.

  She knew what this meant, and instantly glanced away, shutting her eyes. She nodded her response and pushed the tears down with her eyelids.

  He wrapped her in a warm, safe embrace and sighed deeply. “Thank you,” he said with obvious relief.

  “I’d like to call Dani. Maybe I can meet her for lunch today, before we leave.”

  She felt his body stiffen.

  “Fine, but I’m going with you,” he said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

  Shayna pulled away to read Sean’s stoic expression. “Sean, that’s really not necessary. I don’t need a bodyguard,” she said as lightheartedly as she could muster.

  One brow lifted slightly. “Really?”

  Shayna swallowed and felt a blush of embarrassment pepper across her cheeks. Her eyes darted away again.

  “Get used to me being around, Shay. I’m going to be hovering for a while. At least until I know it’s safe.”

  Butterflies fluttered nervously in Shayna’s belly. “Why wouldn’t I be safe? What are you planning, Sean?” she asked, with trepidation, her chest tightening.

  His hands skimmed smoothly down her arms to clasp her hands and bring them to his lips for a kiss on
each. “There are some questions that I won’t answer, Shay. There are some that you shouldn’t ask if you don’t really want to know the answer.”

  Before she could respond, several knocks on the door interrupted their conversation.

  “Yeah,” Sean called out without taking his eyes from hers.

  “Have a few more questions, Sean. Got a minute?” Jerry Kent asked through the door.

  “Sure. I’ll be right there.”

  He kissed Shayna’s hands again, his hard stare seemingly trying to impart the wisdom of knowing when not to ask questions. His words from the night before roared to life in her head, causing her to shudder as he walked past her and headed down the stairs to meet with Jerry.

  ****

  “Do you see her?” Sean asked, as his eyes scouted around Lucy’s, a trendy new restaurant in downtown Mt. Pleasant with sleek modern lines, bright colors and stylish pendant lighting

  “No. She must be running a little late. She seemed really excited when I talked to her this morning. I have a feeling something is up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, call it mother’s intuition, but I think my daughter may be engaged.”

  Sean pulled the vibrating phone from his pocket and scowled at the screen. “I need to take this, Shay. I’m going to find a quiet spot and then I’ll be right back.” He looked searchingly at her. “You going to be okay?”

  She hated being the damsel in distress. “Sean, I’m standing in a busy public restaurant. I’m going to be just fine. Please stop,” she said with more bite than intended. She knew he meant well, but she needed to regroup, gather her strength, so that she could regain her peace of mind. He couldn’t do it for her as much as he clearly thought he could.

  He sighed and squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back. I won’t be long,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  Shayna watched as he walked away, then turned her attention back to the chatty patrons in the restaurant. It had a nice mix of people. Some were clearly here on their lunch hours; others, with strollers and napping babies, were meeting up with friends to compare notes on motherhood. Shayna smiled warmly at old memories of Danielle as a baby, then studied the day’s menu of assorted soups, salads, sandwiches, and lunch quiches. Her stomach rumbled. The aroma filling Lucy’s, along with the vibrant pictures of selected menu items, made her uncomfortably aware that she had skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning.

  “I was hoping you’d be here.”

  Shayna jumped at Frank’s gruff, deep voice. Then his hand tugged at her elbow. She instinctively jerked away from his touch, her skin crawling and burning.

  “What are doing here?” The wobble in her voice angered her.

  He eyed her carefully for a moment, then proceeded in a cautious tone. “Danielle called me a little while ago. Said she and Harper had something to tell us. I hope to hell it’s that they want to get married—not that she’s already pregnant.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t work.

  How could he stand in front of her and talk like this? As if what happened yesterday—didn’t, or was of no consequence. She struggled to find her voice, but her mind went blank with him standing there staring at her, pinning her with his blue eyes.

  “We need to talk, Shay. Maybe after Dani and Harper leave, if you have time.” She continued staring at him speechless, heart tattooing her chest, yesterday’s events slicing through her like a hot knife. “I’m sorry, Shay,” he said roughly. For just an instant, and only an instant, she believed him. “This Parker guy you’re with is trouble, honey. I’m worried about you, worried about what you might get pulled into with him. He’s not who he says he is.”

  “And just who am I, Chastain?” Sean asked coldly, agilely stepping in between Frank and Shayna. He cupped Shayna’s face in his hands and tilted her head up, bringing her gaze to his. What he saw in her eyes crushed him. He swallowed, regained his composure and stared directly into her fearful eyes; he could feel her trembling in his hands.

  “Do you want to leave? You can call Dani and meet her another time.”

  Shayna took a deep breath, seeming to pull strength from Sean, and shook her head. “No. I’ll be fine. I want to see Dani before we leave today.” His face pinched in question. “I’m sure, Sean. I’ll be just fine,” she said, taking his hands in hers, squeezing them and smiling weakly. He nodded, unconvinced, and then slowly, keeping Shayna behind him, turned to face down Frank, who was nearly as tall as he was.

  “Got something you want to say to me, Chastain?” he asked, through tight lips.

  Frank inched closer, his chest expanding. “Yeah, I’ve got plenty to say to you, punk,” he said with gritted teeth.

  “Daddy!” Danielle called out from the other side of the lobby. Her arms stretched for a hug as she quickly covered the distance with Harper in tow. Frank’s eyes didn’t leave Sean’s. “Oh? Hi, Sean, I didn’t know—” her tone was apprehensive and then she caught sight of Shayna standing behind him with her hands twined in his. “Mom? Are you, okay?”

  Frank hastily pulled Danielle into a warm embrace, acknowledging Harper and extending a hand to him, while keeping the other around his daughter, herding her away from Sean and Shayna.

  “Let’s get a table, sweetheart,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek and motioning to Harper to follow, whisking them both away into the restaurant.

  Sean inhaled deeply and did his best to cage the malice boiling deep in his chest. He wasn’t about to make a scene or draw attention publicly to the mounting acrimony and approaching reckoning.

  He brought Shayna around to stand in front of him and eyed her circumspectly. Jesus, she was so beautiful. It killed him to see this timid version of her staring up at him.

  “I’ll do my best to be civil, Shay, for your daughter’s sake. But I need you to back me if I think we need to leave, if I think things might get out of control. No questions. Can you do that?”

  She reached up, stroked his jaw, and then lifted on tiptoes to surprise him with a warm, deep kiss. Wrapping his arms around her, molding her body against his, he felt his heart pick up speed as the delicious taste of her lips and tongue mingled with his—teasing him with hope. She eased away slightly and he saw in her eyes the trust that he knew she didn’t easily give. A lump clogged his throat at the thought of ever disappointing her, ever losing her trust.

  “No questions. I’ll do anything you ask,” she whispered softly.

  His blood heated immediately and he bit back the lusty remark that would have ordinarily followed a comment like that. Things had changed in the last twenty-four hours, and he didn’t want to frighten her or make her uncomfortable with his need, which was quickly becoming urgent. He ached to love her—gently and slowly. However, he was letting her set the pace, and he would eagerly follow wherever, whenever, she was ready.

  She looked like she was waiting for him to say something, her creased eyes hinted at a smile, but then it quickly faded, replaced by what looked like doubt or embarrassment. She stepped away from him and dropped her arms at her sides, avoiding his eyes.

  “We’d better go sit down,” she said in a detached tone as she turned to head toward the table.

  Sean quickly clasped her hand, wondering what had just happened. He felt certain he had done something wrong, but wasn’t sure what. He looked ahead and saw Frank Chastain’s steely frame and hard eyes watching them intently, rage and jealously warring on his face. He sat at one end of the six-seat rectangular table. Danielle was sitting around one corner to the left of her father with Harper at her other side. They both looked skittish, no doubt from the palpable discord between Frank and Sean. Sean’s jaw tightened. It was clear that Frank was expecting Shayna to sit across from their daughter and next to him by default. Not happening, Chastain, Sean thought, his lips twitching in aggravation.

  He pulled out Shayna’s chair and she glanced at Danielle and back to Sean. Tilting his chin down, Sean leveled his eyes at her and nodded faintly with a quic
k wink. He sighed to himself with relief when she took her seat across from Harper without hesitation. Then he dropped smoothly down in his seat next to Frank, wrapping one arm around Shayna and drawing her in closer to him. Drumming his fingers on the table in front of Frank, Sean sneered at his stony face.

  Never taking his eyes off Frank’s, he spoke in a restrained tone, skillfully laced with contempt. “I get the feeling Shayna’s right. With this gathering there must be big news.” He slowly diverted his gaze to the young couple on the other side of the table, who were fidgeting and giving one another nervous sideways glances. He could feel the tension thrumming in Shayna.

  Harper cleared his throat and brushed the dark hair away from his golden brown eyes. He put his arm around Danielle, causing her to blush and giggle nervously, and then he spoke with a confidence that contradicted his youthful appearance. “I spoke with Mr. Chastain a few days ago,” he began, nodding to Frank, who smiled in reply, “and asked for permission to marry Danielle.” He and Danielle looked at one another, each with ear-to-ear grins, and he took her left hand in his, placing it on the table. “And she said, yes,” he announced, lifting her hand to display a two-carat princess-cut diamond solitaire ring.

  Shayna reached out, took her daughter’s hand, and then grabbed Harper’s, as well. “I’m so happy for you, love, for both of you,” she said, glancing between them. “I really am. You two are wonderful together. Always remember the way you feel right now. It’ll make the bumps in the road that we all experience in life, smoother—when you have each other.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Danielle said, with tears threatening to spill over her dark lashes.

  Three punctuated claps sounded from Frank, as he locked eyes with Shayna. “I couldn’t have said it better, Shay. I’d only add one thing.” He turned his eyes to Danielle and her husband-to-be. “What you two are feeling right now, will only grow stronger with time, deeper—a bond that can never really be broken. You should do everything in your power to make sure that it’s not—without apology,” he said with deliberate emphasis, and then turned his narrow focus back to Shayna.