Chad's Chase (Loving All Wrong Book 2) (31 page)

“We’re good. A set of clowns opened fire on us. And now there are two prone bodies on 4th and I’d really fucking appreciate it if you could work your god-like powers and get some bad cops to clean this shit up before news stations and good cops hit the scene.”

The man on the line, or
Org
as it turned out to be, sighed over the phone. “Okay. I shall get someone on it immediately.” A grave pause. “Where were my men when this happened?”

Eyes still on a scowling Military Haircut, Chad said, “Sucking each other off in the bushes, apparently.”

Military Haircut was fuming now. But what could he do with a gun pressed to his forehead and his partner unable to save him?

Org grunted disapprovingly.

“Listen,” Chad began, “Jhay owns me. She’s the bullet to my gun, the finger to my trigger. And I don’t like it one bit that she’s getting shot at. It pisses me off.
Really
pisses me off. Because if she dies, how’s that gonna work out for me, hmm?” He flexed his finger ever so slightly on the trigger of his gun, and Military Haircut’s eyes bugged out. “What I also don’t like, is when all-muscle and no-dick cocksuckers try to touch what’s mine. Your boy Sambo here says you don’t take orders from me. But
I
take orders from you. So, Org, go ahead and order me to kill him. Order me to blow his useless brains out.”

Silence on the other end.

Chad’s smirk deepened, nearing a smile.

Sambo panicked. “Boss?”

Silence.

“Boss,” Sambo pleaded in a rush, “we got cut off! We couldn’t get to her in time! Boss, don’t let him do this!”

More silence for a few still seconds, then, “How scared is he looking right now, Shadreek?”

“Pissing,” Chad replied.

“Good. That will wake him the hell up,” Org said grimly. “Now, you all need to get away from that scene. Bad cops are on their way.”

The line went dead and Chad lowered his gun.

Sambo narrowed wary eyes at Chad, and then he broke into a nervous grin. “Chadrick motherfucking Niiveux.” He shook his head, as if meeting some infamous being and couldn’t believe it. “I’ve heard about you…”

“And now someone else’s gonna be hearing about me from
you
.”

Grabbing my hand, he growled, “Off the scene.”

We all scattered and took off to our respective cars.

Once we were a good deal away from the scene, Chad eased up on driving like a bat out of hell. Setting the car on cruise, he relaxed his shoulders, dropped his head back on the headrest, took off his aviators, then glanced over at me. “You’re okay, babe?”

“What’s with the ‘babe’ tag?”

He frowned, as if thinking about it, then, “I’m in love with you.”

Thud…Thud…Thud…ThudThud…ThudThud…ThudThud….ThudThudThudThudThudThudThudThudThudThudThud
…

That was the sound of my heart.

The words pinwheeled, crashed, and exploded into me like a firebomb. Then the sparks from that firebomb turned into colorful daisies, raining down on me. Then the soft petals of those daisies turned into beautiful butterflies, fluttering all around me. Then… everything disappeared as reality slapped me across the face.

“I don’t want you to love me. Everyone you love dies. Hate me, Chad. Hate me so I can feel safe with you. Hate me so I can love you.”

His dark eyes, dark as his soul, watched me for a thousand heartbeats, before he breathed out, “I hate you so fucking much, Jhay. So fucking much.”

I tried to hold back my grin, but it came any way. “As long as you hate me, I’ll never leave you.”

He stretched one hand across and caressed my cheek with his knuckles. “Back there, when you chose me…I’ve never been so achingly hard for anyone in my entire life.” Those eyes stared hard, sucking me into their never-ending blackness. “You own me, Jhay. I’m so fucking owned I don’t even know my identity anymore.”

Just then, the loud zing of a white Lexus LFA overtook us and swung to the side of the road with its hazard lights on.

Chad careened to the side, too, muttering, “That’s our ride.”

I forgot he’d dialed Ronnie and told him to catch up with us with another car. The back windshield of the R8 was all spider-cracked with lodged bullets, and that would only serve to draw unwanted attention from road cops.

“Leave the guns?” I asked, reaching for the glove compartment.

“Yeah. I’ve got metal in the Lex, too.”

Ronnie got out of the Lexus at the same time we ditched the R8. Car keys got exchanged in a simple toss. No words spoken.

We folded into the red and black interior super-car that smelled like new, and life.

New Life.

Gear got shifted, gas pedal got hit, and then we were off.

Fifteen minutes later we were at our destination in Portola Valley, turning into the residence of a pretentiously large and lavish home constructed from log wood and weathered bricks. The wind blew with ease, and the trees swayed blissfully, the grass greener than the greenest green, the birds and the bees singing in perfect harmony. Picturesque, like it was plucked right out of a goddamn happily-ever-after fairy tale.

“This is yours?” I asked when I got out of the car, staring at the estate in awe.

Chad glanced across the top of the sports car at me, and he seemed…nervous? “No. I bought it as a forgiveness gift for a friend.”

My mouth dropped open. “You bought this as a
gift
for someone?”

He nodded.

I eyed him threateningly. “Is this someone an estranged baby mother or ex-girlfriend?”

With a scoff, he rounded the car toward me and pulled me up to him, his chest a hard brace of warmth and security. I let him slip his arms around my waist and tip my chin up. I let him meld his lips with mine and sweep me away into his dark world for a while. I let him hate me, because I’ve loved him ever since.

When our lips parted, he touched his forehead to mine and whispered, “I brought you here because I wanted to show you that you can trust me. That I’ll never hurt you. Back at the house, I lost it for a minute, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t deserve you. But I’m over the moon you didn’t run. And while I loved Liz, I have always been in lo—I’ve always hated you. I would never do to you what I did to her. Do you believe me?”

“No,” I veraciously answered.

He sighed, defeated. “That’s because you’re smart. But…it’s the truth.”

I gripped his arms, confused as hell, but lost for words. So we remained like that for a year and a day, forehead to forehead, my fingers sinking tightly into his biceps, knowing I should let go of him and his meaningless promises, but still clinging on as if my entire existence depended on it.

Was there another person out there whom I could be my true self with and have them love me regardless? Was there a normal man/woman who would understand and readily accept my story? What were the chances? One in every ten thousand persons?

Chad knew all my dirty little deeds, how black and muddy my feathers were, the blood buried under my fingernails, the foul rotting of my heart, and he still wanted me.

Because we were one and the same. Him one hundred shades darker than me, but still…we weren’t regular people. Our lives had been fucked from the very beginning. And there was no possible way we could commit those vile acts we had in our very short lifetime and then expect to dream and live like normal folks.

This
was what we were given. So
this
was what we had to take, and help each other through.

We were in an extremely nocuous relationship where our ever-after would be either his death by my hands, or my death by his hands. Because we both saw the world in one light, darkness. And the blind couldn’t lead the blind. Someone needed a blip of light within them to lead the way, lest sooner or later we would crash right into each other, explode, and fucking burn.

We were both rolling grenades, our pins pulled, our clock ticking…

“Are you nervous about showing me what’s inside that house?”

Chad chuckled. “Can you tell I’m stalling?”

I mock-pouted. “And here I thought you’re just obsessed with having me crushed against you…”

“That, too.”

Lacing our fingers, he began toward the house. Once we were on the doorstep, he produced a key from his jeans pocket and opened the door.

“Someone actually gave
you
a key to their house? Is this person right in the head?”

He laughed. “Unlike you, they trust me. I
love
this person, and they’re still alive.”

An unladylike snort left me. “Yeah. But how long will that last?”

Compressing his lips, he ignored the jab and ushered me into the house. Warmth and ease immediately enveloped me, and I marveled at the deluxe-ness of the house. The large beckoning furniture, the high-polished wooden floors, exposed rafter ceilings, the big plush cushions, the Persian rugs…it was all so perfect. All I wanted to do was curl up on one of those massive couches with a hot cup of cocoa and a thick fantasy book in hand.

This was the life.

The ever after life.

A stunning brunette, slim and petite, materialized in the wide expanse of the living room. Wearing white capris pants and a pink cashmere sweater, her hair in an especially neat up-do. She looked every bit the suburban soccer mom. Especially with the baby bump under that sweater, which looked to be about five months.

Guess I was right about the estranged baby mother. Why else would Chad buy someone a place like this? A house I was damn sure was valued
at least
four mil.

The woman’s leaf-shaped eyes watched me with a certain leeriness, her smile hesitant. On her tiny feet she graced up to us and held out her hand to me. “Hi, Jhay. I’m Clementine. It’s nice to finally meet you… instead of just hearing about you.”

Eyebrow arched, I took her hand and shook but slid my eyes to Chad.

Escaping my questioning stare, he quickly stepped to the Clementine person and wrapped her in a tight hug. They shared some kind of look when they broke apart, and I decided to stay quiet until one of them chose to tell me what the hell was happening here.

“Mentally preparing himself?” Chad asked Clementine.

With a chesty sigh, she nodded. “Yep.”

Chad tsked in disapproval. “Go get him, Clem. Slap him across the face if you need to and tell him it’s from me.”

Without waiting for the woman’s response, as though it were an order and not a request, Chad got behind me, clapped his hands on my shoulders, and propelled me further into the room. He sat me down on one of the chocolate-brown leather couches. And sweet Lord, the damned things were even more comfortable than they looked.

Clementine left the room to do Chad’s bidding, and Chad moved with an easy flow in a home that wasn’t his. Over to a wet bar, he poured two fingers of Scotch from a decanter in a whiskey glass, then moved quietly back across the room and handed it to me.

I took it without argument, because his pouring Scotch for me could only mean one thing: I’d be needing it.

We waited.

Chad paced while I sipped my hard liquor.

Donkey?s years later, Clementine came floating back into the room with a fit, dark-haired man tailing her; his gaze fixed on me over the small woman’s head. And as he got closer, I frowned, thinking he looked distinctly familiar, a face from a distant memory.

Tall, muscular, olive-skinned, with hair as black as mine, and eyes like the Pacific Ocean. No denying his handsomeness, but I felt like I knew him. It was too weird how much he resembled my—

I shot up from the couch like there were giant needles in the cushions, the whiskey glass sliding from my fingers and greeting the ground in shards.

Oh.

My.

God.

“
Ricardo
?” My voice was near-inaudible, nothing but a tiny catch of breath. No volume, no conviction.

“Hey, sis.” His smile was tentative, uncertain.

He took a step toward me, reaching out as if to touch me, but I jerked back and dodged behind Chad, using him as shield from…from my own brother.

A brother who was supposed to be dead. But was here in flesh and blood, alive and well. Healthier and happier than I would ever live to be.