“You look lost in thought,” Chase says, handing me a can of beer. I crack the top and take a sip. I’m not a fan of beer. The idea of it sounds nice, refreshing even, but I can’t get past the taste. It’s terrible.
“I am. I was thinking of how these get-togethers have evolved over the years. From innocent slumber parties with my girlfriends to crazy parties in college to this…low-key, more adult fun. I missed that last transition.”
Chase puts his arm around me and kisses my forehead. Sometimes saying nothing is the best thing to hear, and Chase knows how powerful his silence can be.
“Siiieerrraaaa!” Lisa calls from across the yard, throwing her hands up.
“I think she missed the transition too,” Chase jokes and I laugh.
“Lisa will always be in the crazy stage. She’s been in the crazy stage since birth.”
“I told you to be here at nine, hooker,” Lisa bellows as she rushes over, throwing her arms around me. She’s already drunk and the party just started. “It’s like ten…ten…something.”
“It’s ten fifteen. That makes me fashionably late.”
Lisa pouts. “But I had no one to tell me to stop taking shots. Or take shots with. Want one?” She turns before I can answer. “Rob! Bring me those tequila shots.”
“I don’t think Sierra wants one of those,” Chase says, eyes meeting mine. He arches his eyebrows and smiles, and I roll my eyes back at him, knowing he’s referencing that time I almost had a threesome with Mr. and Mrs. Backwoods.
“Why don’t you let Sierra make her own decisions,” Lisa slurs.
I love and hate Drunk Lisa. She lacks a filter most days, and when she’s been drinking, the filter is completely off and locked away in some repressed compartment in her mind that won’t surface again until at least three hours after her hangover wears off.
“I don’t want tequila,” I say, grimacing. “Do you have any wine inside, though?”
“Of course. Come with me. I have to pee anyway.”
I take Chase’s hand and start forward after Lisa.
“No,” she says, turning around. She holds up her hand, squinting at Chase. “Just the girls.”
I shake my head. “Lisa, chill a little.”
“Rob!” she calls, turning away from us. He jogs over a few seconds later.
“What’s up, babe? And hey, guys,” Rob says.
Lisa takes my hand out of Chase’s and loops her arm through mine. “I need to take Sierra into the house for some girl stuff. You talk to Chase. Because if we’re going to stay together and they’re going to be together, then the two of you need to get along.”
“We do get along,” Rob says slowly, not following Lisa’s drunk logic.
“Ugh,” she sighs, throwing her head back. “You don’t know each other. Go be friends. Start a bromance and become best friends. Come on, Sierra.”
I look at Chase, who is amused by the whole thing, and gives me a small nod, telling me to go with Lisa.
“What the fuck?” Lisa blurts as soon as we’re inside.
“About what?” I ask her.
She blinks, and then shakes her head. “I don’t remember. Wine is in the fridge. I’m going to pee.” She stumbles through Rob’s house to the bathroom while I open a bottle of wine, trading my beer for a plastic wine glass. I fill it halfway, take a few sips, and lean on the counter while I wait for my cousin.
“Where’s my glass?” she asks when she’s back in the kitchen.
“I’ll pour you one later. How about some food?”
“I’m drinking my calories tonight.”
“Take a break for a minute and dance with me,” I try, taking her arm and pulling her out the door. I see Chase standing by the fire, talking with Rob and his friends.
“You like him, don’t you?” Lisa slurs.
“Yeah. I hope so, at least, since we’re sleeping together.”
“You know what I mean. Like really like him.”
“I’m starting to.”
“Good.” Lisa gives me a smile and rests her head on my shoulder. If she’s getting tired already, there’s no way she’s going to make it through the rest of the night. “But it is weird seeing you with someone other than Jake. When you guys were out there, backs turned, I thought it was you and Jake for a second. Then I saw you with Chase and it’s just weird.”
I know she’s drunk, but her words hurt. Tears well up in my eyes and I work hard to blink them away. I grind my teeth the rest of the way to the fire, shaking Lisa off my arm as soon as we stop. She goes over to Rob, throwing her arms around his shoulders.
“Sierra,” Chase says, smiling disappearing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie the same moment a renegade tear falls from my eye.
“I don’t believe you,” he whispers, wiping my tear away. “Did something happen?”
I shake my head. “Just my drunk best friend saying stupid shit.” Chase steps in, wrapping one arm around me. I rest my head against his chest and gather my composure. Chase cups my face, gently moving my chin up so he can kiss me. The guilt intensifies for a brief second before vanishing completely. Chase kisses me harder, tongue slipping past my lips. He slides his hand back into my hair, closing his fingers into a fist. If I weren’t holding my wine, I’d throw my arms around Chase and completely surrender to him.
“Better?” he asks, breaking away.
“Yes.” I take a few big gulps of my wine, mostly because I want to finish it and not carry a cup around all night. It takes me a while to feel like myself again, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t squish the ball of fear that starts to form every time I run into an old friend. Are they thinking the same thing Lisa is?
“Those are the girls you went out with the first night I saw you, right?” Chase asks, watching Katie, Bella, and Heather draw near.
“Yeah, they are. I’m surprised you remember.”
“I’m good with remembering faces.”
“I’m not. At all.”
Katie catches my eye and waves. “Sierra! Oh my God, it’s good to see you again!”
She hugs me and then looks at Chase, doing a terrible job hiding her smile. There’s no need to introduce Chase to them. They know who he is and that we’ve been spending time together. Not because I told them, but because this town talks. I go through a formal introduction regardless, for Chase’s sake. We talk to my old friends for a while then refill our drinks and go back by the fire. It’s already hot out, but the smoke keeps the mosquitos away.
“I feel like I’m in a country music video,” Chase quips as we sit on a hay bale.
I laugh. “Nah, all the girls would be wearing cowboy boots and cut-off jeans if we were. And we’d be sitting on a tailgate.”
“We’re missing drunken fights and someone passing out in the barn, too.”
“I’m sure one of those two will happen tonight.”
“I think you just jinxed it.” Chase sits up straighter, looking over the fire. “Looks like a fight’s about to break out.”
We stand and see three guys, fists clenched, staring down another guy. The leader of the offensive pack is Justin, a guy I’ve known since childhood. Behind the guys, who are exchanging heated words, is Francine, who’s the world’s fakest friend. Her arms are crossed and lips pursed, watching the men shout. Justin lurches forward, shoving the other guy in the chest. He stumbles back but takes a swing, fist colliding with Justin’s temple. Justin’s friends jump in on the guy, and another joins in on the fight, going against Justin and his crew.
“I’ll get Rob,” I say but Chase shakes his head.
“I got this.” He strides over and shouts, “Hey!” The brawl comes to a temporary halt and all five guys look at Chase. “What the fuck are you doing?” Chase goes on.
“He touched my girl,” Justin sneers, pointing to the guy he shoved, that I recognize now as Daniel, who moved to Summer Hill not that long ago and has never quite fit in.
“Take it somewhere else.” Chase goes right
up to them.
“Stay out of it, fucking Yankee,” Justin snarls and I shake my head. Way to further the southern stereotype. I turn, hoping to find Rob. He’s a cop in this town, after all. People listen to him. In that split second that I turn away, all hell breaks loose. I look back just in time to see Justin taking a swing at Chase.
Horrified, I stand rooted to the spot, watching everything unfold. Chase ducks out of the way, catches Justin’s fist and twists his arm before popping him quickly in the face. Justin goes down and one of his friends moves in at the same time the other jumps on Chase from behind.
Chase flips him over with ease and takes out the other friend in two seconds flat. Daniel and his friend stand there, arms out to their sides, looking at Chase and not knowing if they should fight him or not. Justin scrambles to his feet and pulls out a pocket knife. He flips open the blade and charges at Chase. My eyes widen in horror and my mouth falls open, but no words come out.
Chase turns, grabs Justin’s wrist and has him disarmed in the blink of an eye. He twists Justin’s arm behind his back, apprehending him until Rob and one of his police officer friends run over. There’s a gleam in Chase’s eyes, and I can’t deny that he looks almost disappointed the fight is not only over but was easy. For him at least.
“What the fuck?” Rob exclaims, seeing the knife on the ground.
“That guy’s fucking psycho!” Justin yells, pulling away from Chase and mopping blood from his bleeding nose with the back of his hand. “He just attacked us!”
“Give it a break,” Rob says. “We saw the whole thing. You charged at him with a knife. That’s assault, Justin. If he presses charges against you, I’m hauling your ass to the county jail.”
Chase holds up his hands. “I’m not pressing charges. Just don’t be a dumbass anymore.”
Justin spits blood onto the ground and glares at Chase. Francine stares daggers at me from across the yard, and now I know why she was standing there so smugly, watching the fight take place. It was about her.
“Why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend is Jason Bourne?” Lisa asks, coming up behind me, unable to look away from the guys.
I’m just as shocked as she is. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Close enough. I wanna learn how to do that,” she goes on. “That was badass. God, it’s not fair you get to go home with him tonight.”
“Yeah…it’s not.”
“Why don’t you have a drink in your hand?” Lisa asks, just now realizing it. “We gotta fix this.”
Fights happen at these types of parties all the time. It’s a running joke that there’s nothing else to do but beat each other up. The spats are broken up, no one is seriously hurt, and we go on with the night. I can’t get over the look in Chase’s eye, the way he enjoyed fighting.
“Right.”
“What do you want?”
“Surprise me.”
“I will!” Lisa skips off to the cooler in the threshold of the barn. The guys disperse and Chase comes back to me.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“I’m fine. That guy’s an idiot.”
“He’s always been one. You handled that well.”
Chase gives me his signature shrug. “I taught a self-defense class in college.”
“Really?” I tip my head. It’s the first time he’s mentioned that he even went to college.
“Yeah. And I’ve been into martial arts since I was a kid. It was one of the few things my dad did for me. If you can call it that. He sent money for classes. He thought it would make me disciplined. He wasn’t there to do shit, so he hoped someone else could.”
“Did it work?”
Chase gives me a devilish smirk. “No.” His hands land on my ass and he pulls me in. “I lack self-control. Especially when it comes to you.”
I bite my lip, grinning right back. “You’re a bad influence.”
With a swift movement, he picks me up and kisses me. “The worst.”
“Get a room,” Lisa calls, making her way back with two hard lemonades. “Or at least go in the barn.”
“I’m kinda ready to go home,” I admit.
“So you two can fuck?” Lisa blurts, handing me my drink.
“That is part of why.” I make a face. “You know I’m not much of a party person.”
“You’re so lame, Si. But fine. Go home and have fun with that piece of man-meat.”
“I’m standing right here,” Chase says dryly.
Lisa looks him up and down and then winks. “I know.”
We laugh and I take Lisa’s hand, guiding her across the yard to Rob before Chase and I leave.
“Where do you want to go?” Chase asks, opening the car door for me. “Home or the apartment?”
“We can go to your house.” I get in, taking note that Chase never refers to his house as ‘home’. He said he’s never been anywhere long enough for it to feel that way. “It’s closer.”
The bar is still packed when we pull up, and we sneak around back and up the stairs before anyone can see us.
“I forgot about that,” I say when we step through the door. “How do you sleep with all the noise?”
“I don’t. Not well at least until the bar closes. But I’m a night person anyway, so I’m up until two or three most nights.”
“I could be the same, but I have to get up for work.”
“Why do you work at The Book Bag?” He takes off his shoes and goes to the couch. I set my purse down and unbuckle my sandals, and join him.
“I have to have a job.”
“I know, but you said you own part of the farm. Maybe it’s presumptuous to assume you’d make more money doing that than working at a small bookstore.”
“I would, but I like The Book Bag. And the biggest thing is not wanting a handout from my parents. I already don’t fit in the best and the last thing I want is them holding the fact that they gave me money or a job over my head. I want to be successful in life because I earned it. Not because someone gave it to me.”
Chase looks at me for a minute, admirably. “And that’s exactly why you’d be a terrible farmer’s wife.”
“I’d be the worst.”
“Always telling him what to do and not taking your rightful place in the kitchen. And I just know you’d have an opinion you’d want to share.”
“The nerve of me, right?”
“It’s borderline disgraceful.”
We both laugh and Chase takes me in his arms. My head rests against his chest and I close my eyes, just breathing it all in. Noise from the bar thumps on below us, yet it’s still peaceful sitting here with Chase. I start to doze off until a loud cheer from the patrons below startles me.
“It’s quieter in the bedroom,” Chase says, then gives me a smirk. “Though if I’m talking about us, it’s far from quiet.”
“You wanna give them a run for their money?” I ask, biting my lip.
Chase scoops me up and carries me into the bedroom. “Hell, yes.”
Chapter 18
Chase
The sound of metal rubbing on metal reverberates through the quiet room, waking me from my sleep. The sound is unfamiliar, and I immediately go on the defense, looking for whoever caused the noise. The stakes are higher this time because it’s not just me to worry about. Sierra is next to me, and if anyone lays a finger on her, I’ll kill them.
The glowing screen of my phone catches my eye, and it takes not even a second to realize the sound was a text coming through, causing the phone to vibrate up against a metal bowl full of change. Sierra didn’t stir. She did tell me she’s a sound sleeper and doesn’t wake easily once she’s passed out.
It’s my old phone, which sounds weird to say since this one is actually a newer model than the one I got from the Summer Hill electronic store. The text is from Jax, and I know I should read it. I unlock the phone and internally groan at the number of texts, missed calls, and messages.
I go to the voicemails first. There are fewer of them than texts, an
d Jax would call instead of text if it were actually important. It’s like I’m listening to Sierra’s messages all over again, except my mystery woman is naked in bed next to me, fast asleep and none the wiser to the shit I’m about to listen to. I press play on Jax’s first message and bring the phone to my ear.
“I got a job for us,” he starts. “Fifty-grand easy. Call me.”
The next message is from over a week later. “Where the fuck are you, Henson? I got fucking arrested and need you to bail me out. I know I flaked on you last time, but I had a good fucking reason. I’m at Stark County.”
The next message comes three days after the last. I hit play. “Fuck you, man. Fuck. You. I had to get Weston to bail me out. But really, where the hell are you? No one’s heard from you in weeks. If you’re fucking dead I’m going to kill you. Don’t you fucking force me to ask Beth what happened to you.”
I know he did because the next message is from Beth, who was more than a fuck buddy but far from my girlfriend.
“What the fucking hell, Chase?” she starts. “Jax just left and said he hasn’t seen or heard from you either. I’m worried. Really fucking worried.” Her voice is raspy and I can tell she’s sucking on a cigarette as she talks. “Last I heard you were going down south to handle some family shit. Call me, asshole.”
The last message is from Jax again, and it was left last night while Sierra and I were at the bonfire. “I’m in trouble and need a place to lay low. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious. And I’m serious. Beth said something about Mississippi. I’m headed south now to stay out of dodge. If you’re not dead, call me back, motherfucker.”
“Shit,” I mumble, bringing the phone away from my face. Jax has helped me out more than once. I can’t walk away from this.
I run my hand through my hair and open the texts. The majority are from Jax, telling me about jobs, then asking where I am. Three texts are from Beth, with the first being a photo of her new nipple piercing, the second inviting me to come over for the night, and the third asking where I am as well. The rest are from clients, seeing if I’m available for hire. The most recent text is from Jax, asking if I’m alive.
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