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, and 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.”