by A. M. Myers
Tipping my head back, I let the water run over my hair and sigh. I’ll just have to grovel. She may like to play tough, but I know how easily she gave into me last night, felt the way her body melted into my arms, and the shivers that ran down her skin from my touch. She’s fighting it, but she wants this just as much as I do. I’ve seen the pain she works so hard to hide and I know she thinks she has perfectly valid reasons for keeping me at arm’s length but that’s just not going to work for me. I’m not like any of the other guys she’s been with and I’m not just going to give up. Not that I could even if I wanted to.
With new resolve, I turn off the shower and step out, grabbing the towel off the rack. I get dressed quickly and grab my phone before walking down the hallway to Streak’s lair. I knock twice and he yells for me to enter. He’s perched behind three large computer screens and his fingers are flying across the keyboard. Totally focused on the screen in front of him, he doesn’t even bother to look up at me.
“What can I do for you?” he asks and I sit down in the chair next to his desk.
“You got anything for me?” I asked him to start looking into Carly’s background for me last week. After a week of separation, I was ready to do damn near anything to get any piece of her I could and I’ve become a little obsessed with whoever caused the pain I see in her eyes from time to time. Even thinking about it makes me feel murderous and if I ever find out what happened to her and who is responsible, I have no idea what I’ll do.
“Yes and no,” Streak says, slapping a folder down on top of the desk in front of me.
“What does that mean?”
“It means any information I find just gives me more questions. I’m definitely intrigued by this woman.”
“Go near her and I’ll kill you,” I snap and he starts laughing, leaning back in his chair.
“Y’all are just gonna start dropping like flies, huh? First Storm and now you… poor bastards.”
I flip him off and he laughs again as I open the folder and start going through the pages inside. “What the fuck does all this mean?”
“Page one is school transcripts – nothing to mention there. Page two is her bank account and if you look at the top of the page, you’ll see she has a balance of twelve million dollars in her savings account.”
My eyes widen and I glance up at him. “Where did it come from?”
“Ah, see, now that is the interesting part. I don’t know. It was deposited as cash in nine thousand dollar increments which makes it untraceable and leads me to believe that maybe it’s not really above board.”
“You think it’s dirty money?”
He shrugs. “I’m just saying most people don’t put twelve million in cash in their bank accounts.”
“Can you see who deposited it?”
He nods, scrolling to one of the side computers. “It looks like it was her mother.”
“She said her mom was good at getting money out of her ex husbands.”
“Yeah, I looked at all of them and one did buy Carly and her sister condos but none of them are missing that much money.”
Flipping through the pages one last time, I nod and stand up before slapping him on the back. “Thanks, man.”
He nods. “Yeah, no problem but maybe next time, y’all can find uncomplicated women so I don’t have to do all this work.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” I ask with a smile on my face and he shakes his head.
“Oh, by the way, I got some information about the case you’re working today.” He hands me another folder and I nod before ducking out of his office. Blaze is walking toward me.
“Chance. You heading out soon?” he asks and I nod.
“Yeah, just gotta take care of something and then I’m out of here.”
He slaps me on the shoulder and nods. “Give me an update when you get back in.”
“You got it, Prez.”
He walks off down the hallway, slipping into Streak’s office and I go to my room, setting the folders down on top of the dresser before I sink down into the chair in the corner of the room before sending her a text.
Chance:
We need to talk about last night.
* * * *
I definitely look out of place in this neighborhood sitting in my mid 90’s truck with its faded paint and dented body. Every other car on the block is less than four years old, all shiny and new as they sit in front of a three hundred-thousand-dollar house almost identical to the ones on either side of it. Even the trees planted in the yard look regal and expensive. Sighing, I glance back up at the house and cross my arms over my chest as I wait for something to happen, so I can get it on film for our client. All the waiting with nothing to do but think has got to be the worst part of this job but it’s also the most lucrative business the club runs which means Blaze likes to have more guys on it. And I certainly don’t mind the large paycheck.
I’ve been here for over an hour, trying to catch our client’s wife with her boyfriend and I’m seriously running out of patience but that could also be due to the fact that I still haven’t heard from Carly. I’ve sent her a few more texts since I woke up, but my phone has been silent and I wonder if we’re going back to the way things were before last night. Naw, that’s not gonna happen. I can’t stand two more weeks without her. I’m sure some people would tell me to just back off and give her a little space but I can’t. Ever since we met, all I want to do is be around her. I can’t afford to let her build her walls back up. She’ll shut me out no matter how much she wants me; I just know it.
It’s crazy it has only been a couple of weeks since I met her because it feels like I’ve known her forever, like she was always a part of me and I wonder if this is what Logan felt when he met Ali. It would explain why he was such a mess for a little while. She won’t admit it, but I think she feels the same. I’ve caught her looking at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention and it would be hard to miss the longing in her eyes. I’m desperate to peel back the layers and see the real Carly, the one behind all the casual sex and loneliness. Grabbing my phone, I fire off one last text to her.
Me:
You running again is not going to work for me.
Pressing send, I toss it back down in the cup holder and hope it works. If she won’t respond to any of my other texts, maybe making her mad will work or maybe she’ll just keep ignoring me. I’m honestly not getting my hopes up. It doesn’t matter though. I’ll do whatever I’ve got to do to get her. Walking away now is not an option. Not after last night when I thought I was finally going to get everything that I’ve ever wanted. I’m fucking addicted to her – her kiss, her touch, and every little thing about her, even the things that drive me insane.
Sighing, I look back up at the house and sit up straight, grabbing the camera out of the passenger seat as a car pulls into the driveway and the target climbs out, walking up to the front door holding the hand of a man who is most definitely not her husband. Aiming the camera across the street, I start snapping shots as they kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck and he slips a hand down to her ass. Pulling back, she smiles up at him before reaching behind her and opening the front door. She pulls him inside and I pull the camera away from my face and grab the folder out of the seat, flipping through the info that Streak gave me.
Andy, the guy who hired us, is an old friend of Blaze’s and he’s been married to Helen for ten years. Andy asked Blaze to look into it about two months ago when he found underwear in the laundry basket that weren’t his and honestly, what we’ve found disgusts me. The man she’s with tonight is boyfriend three out of five. They’re kept on a rotation and it seems none of them know about the others. I just feel bad for Andy. I’ve been in his shoes before and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
Glancing back up at the house, I wince and do my best not to throw up. Helen and Andy live in a nice residential area on the outskirts of Baton Rouge. Their place is this cute little yellow house that makes you think of your grandma and this bitch
has got her tits pressed up against the window while number three nails her from behind. Absolutely anyone could walk by at any moment and see all she’s got to offer but I suppose that’s probably part of the appeal for her. Trying to keep my lunch down, I raise the camera to my face and snap more photos.
“Fucking classy, people,” I mutter to myself as homeboy pulls her away from the window and puts her on her hands and knees. All I can see is his top half as he thrusts into her and I lower the camera, disgusted. I need to start working at the shop more. This shit pisses me off.
I glance over at my phone, hoping that maybe this is the one time she’ll text me back. She can’t stay mad forever, right? My phone buzzes and I grab it.
Carly:
Tough shit.
Carly:
STOP texting me.
Growling, I throw the phone back into the cup holder and cross my arms over my chest. That’s fine. She can fight me but I’m not giving up. I’ve been waiting for a long fucking time for a girl like Carly to come along and she’s got no idea what she’s in store for. I won’t stop until she’s mine.
Chapter Nineteen
Carly
Shadows dance across the ceiling, lulling me into an almost dream-like state as I lie in bed staring at them. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been up for close to twenty-four hours now, but I can’t close my eyes. Whenever I do, I see him. Chance consumes my thoughts and I can’t stop picturing the first time we had sex – how he broke down my barriers so effortlessly – or two nights ago when I had everything I was too scared to wish for. I can feel his hands brushing over my skin, his touch so tender and possessive that of course I fell in love with him because how could I not? He bulldozed his way into my life with a perfect mixture of cool complicated bad boy and sweet, steady man and I never stood a damn chance.
All night long, I’ve tried to marry that man with who I now know he really is and it just doesn’t make sense. I can’t see Chance doing something like that to me, but I guess that just shows you how stupid I am. Even when the truth is staring me in the face, I still don’t believe it. It takes a certain kind of coldness to lie as easily as he did, to look me in the face as I laid down my rules and promise me he wasn’t seeing anyone else. How could I fall for a man like that? Am I really that clueless? Tears sting my eyes and my dad’s face pops into my mind. A sob is ripped from my chest as I think about Chance’s wife – I did the same thing to her that my mother did to my father and I hate me for it. I should have known better. I should have walked away from him as soon as he looked me in the eye.
I can’t stop replaying the last three weeks over and over again, looking for any sign I missed but I keep coming up empty. He’s been a model boyfriend, even if I wasn’t calling him that. Friday night flashes through my mind again and fresh tears roll down my cheeks. Everything about it was perfect up until the moment I walked out of the bathroom and God, even in those few short seconds where I had decided to say yes to him, I imagined a life with him. A full and beautiful life where I didn’t have to be the broken damaged girl anymore. I could just be his and that would be enough because what else would I need if he loved me? I imagined things I would have never allowed myself to imagine before and this pain I’m experiencing now is the exact reason why. I feel nothing except piercing, gaping sadness in the spot where my heart used to be. There’s no need for walls to protect it anymore because he stole in and smashed it under his boot.
My phone beeps on the bedside table and I turn my head to the side, sighing as I stare at it. The scent of cinnamon drifts up from his shirt and my stomach rolls as my lip wobbles again. God, I’m pathetic. The phone beeps again and my eyes narrow as I glare at it. I swear to God, if he’s texting me again to tell me that I can’t run from him or that we need to talk, I might kill him. I’m sure he doesn’t realize I know about his double life yet, but seriously, who the hell does this guy think he is? Why pursue me so hard if this could never go anywhere? And what does it say about me that I fell in love with a man like that? Sighing, I sit and up and drag myself over to the edge of the bed before grabbing my phone and unlocking it.
Ivy:
Lunch today?
Ivy:
1? Our usual spot?
Me:
Sounds good.
The text from my sister after weeks of radio silence is a welcome surprise and I smile but my lack of sleep is quickly catching up with me. There is no way in hell I’m missing this lunch with her, though. I’ve been too worried about her. Tossing the phone next to me on the bed, I push off the mattress and drag myself into the bathroom, dreaming about a big cup of coffee when I get done with my shower. When I glance in the mirror, I gasp and drop my gaze down to the countertop. I look about as good as I feel and my mother would be absolutely horrified. Not like I care though. I just need to make myself look presentable enough that Ivy won’t notice because the last thing I want to do is talk about this with anyone.
Turning away from the mirror, I quickly undress and climb into the shower, trying my best to avoid looking at the bench where Chance and I had sex on several occasions but failing. Before I met Chance, I never had sex in a shower because it seemed too intimate and after experiencing it with him, I still believe that to be true. My heart aches thinking about the way he held me and kissed me as steam billowed around us. With him, I felt cherished and loved even when I couldn't bear to entertain the possibility of us and that's why it was so easy to say yes to him Friday night. He made me believe I could find happiness.
Anger sparks inside me and I turn away from the bench, scrubbing my hair furiously like I'll somehow be able to erase him from my mind. I wish I could. I spent too many years letting my past control me and I won't give the same power to a man who doesn't deserve me. Even when just thinking his name hurts so much it's hard to breathe, I’ll hang on to this anger and use it to move forward but it doesn't get to control me.
Stepping out of the shower, I dry off before throwing my hair up in a towel and slipping my robe on as I stop in front of the mirror. My eyes still have some very dark circles underneath them that concealer will have to fix but other than that, I’m looking better. If only it was so easy to fix my heart. Sighing, I push off the counter and pad into the kitchen in search of a giant cup of coffee. I set my cup in the Keurig as it brews before turning and leaning back against the counter as I stare out the window. The dark gray clouds in the sky perfectly match my mood as rain streaks down the glass and thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s almost like the sky decided to pick up where I left off last night.
Someone knocks on the door, startling me and I jump, pressing my hand over my heart as I glance over at it. There is no way in hell I’m answering that. I already have a pretty good idea who it is and if I see him, I’m liable to punch him in the face. On second thought, though, that might make me feel better.
“Carly, I know you’re in there!” Chance yells through the door and I roll my eyes. Yeah, like that’s going to work. The Keurig dings and I flinch, wondering if he would be able to hear that through the door, before grabbing my cup and taking a tentative sip as he pounds on the door again. In any other apartment, I would be concerned that he was going to break it down but one of the features of this apartment was its reinforced doors – something my mother insisted on since I was a woman living on my own.
“Please, Princess,” he says, softer this time and fire spreads through my chest as tears well up in my eyes. Hell, no. He doesn’t get to call me that anymore. Slamming my cup down on the counter, I march over to the door and unlock the deadbolt before yanking it open. The sight of him in front of me almost breaks me but I somehow manage to hold it together. Straightening my spine, I meet his gaze head on.
“You do not get to call me that anymore,” I hiss, my voice dripping with venom that surprises even me a little. His mouth drops open before he snaps it shut again, unsure of what to say to me.
“I’m coming in and we’re going to talk about this.”
&n
bsp; “Uh… no, we’re not,” I say, punctuated by a bitter laugh that grates on my ears. He takes a step in my direction and I pull the door toward me, ready to put it between us if he tries to barge his way in here like he would have every other time.
“What happened the other night, Carly? You were ready to be with me and now, you can barely look at me.”
I’m mildly shocked his wife hasn’t confronted him about this yet and I’m trying desperately to ignore the pain that sparks in my chest at how easily he can play this role. If I didn’t already know the truth, the sincerity in his eyes would have won me over.
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? To lie and play people like they’re your puppets.”
“What are you talking about?”
Each time he speaks, my anger builds but lurking just behind that, is crushing heartache and I know I can only hold onto this façade for so long. “What happened, Chance, is I’m no longer interested in being your plaything.”
“You have never been a plaything,” he growls, stepping toward me and I meet his gaze with narrowed eyes.
“You take one step into this apartment and I will call the police. I do not want to see you again. I do not want to hear from you. We are done.” Slamming the door in his face, I flip the deadbolt and spin around, leaning back against it as I clamp my hand over my mouth and struggle to hold my tears at bay. Silence greets me, but I know he’s not gone yet. He’s not the kind of man that would give up so easily. Finally, he sighs.
“This is far from over, sweetheart.”
I listen as the sound of his boots echo down the hall before the first tear spills down my cheek. Sinking down to the floor, I pull my knees up to my chest and bury my head in my arms as the tears pour down my face and I’m right back to where I was last night. Hating Chance for making me fall in love with him when he could never truly be mine and hating myself for once again, choosing the wrong man.