Lucky: The Irish MC (46 page)

“No less than you deserve,” Mark said kindly. He tapped me on the tip of my nose with his finger and I tried hard not to flinch. “Lacey, I had my Shaunna ask you something today. That is, if she didn’t forget.”

“She didn’t forget,” I said miserably. “She invited me over for dinner but made sure to say that she and Peter wouldn’t be home. Mark, that’s sweet, but I’m not sure this is the right time.”

Mark frowned. “Lacey, you’ve been putting me off for months,” he whined. “Why not just give me one shot? If it goes badly, or if you don’t want to see me again, I promise I’ll respect you and your wishes.”

“I don’t know,” I said finally. “Now isn’t the best time for me.”

Mark sighed and looked at me over the tops of the flowers. “Lacey, you’re younger than I am, so take this with a grain of salt. But after my wife died, I felt the same way. And then I looked in the mirror and realized that years were passing. We’re not getting any younger, you know? Sometimes you just have to put yourself back out there, whether or not you feel like it’s the best time. Now, I realize that I was mourning so heavily that I was ignoring my kids. I can’t do that anymore. I want to be a good father, but I want to be happy, too.”

I sighed. The odd thing was, if it hadn’t been for Chase, Mark’s little speech might have almost convinced me. As it was, I appreciated him making his intentions more clear. But I still didn’t feel like it was the best idea for me to have dinner with them. What if Peyton found me? Or worse, what if Peyton found Peter and Shaunna? Thinking about getting someone’s kids killed was literally my worst nightmare. If something happened to them, I couldn’t have lived with myself. Or even if something happened to Mark—he was all they had left in the world. How could I possibly rob two sweet children of their only surviving parent?

“Mark, I really appreciate this,” I said, gesturing to the flowers. “But I really don’t think you should get wrapped up in my life. I’m still taking care of some things, and I don’t know that I’ll really be as available as you want me to be.”

Mark smiled kindly. His eyes crinkled up at the corners and I couldn’t help but think how cute he looked in that moment. “Lacey, it’s just dinner,” he said with a laugh. “We’re not signing the Treaty of Versailles.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay,” I said finally. “Fine. Let me go home and change and then I’ll drive over later, okay? Text me your address.”

Mark grinned widely. He hollered for Peter and Shaunna and they both came running up and jumped into his arms. Shaunna gave me a doe-eyed grin.

“Miss Lacey’s coming for dinner,” Mark said to his kids. “So who wants to pick up McDonalds before going to Grandma’s?”

Peter and Shaunna cheered in a deafening roar. From across the room, Anne was glaring at me. I smiled and waved goodbye to the family. Mark gave me a look that could have melted ice and pointed to his phone in his pocket. I nodded, feeling nervous. Now that I’d made the promise, I wasn’t entirely sure that I wanted to keep my word.

When I left Dawning Center for the day, my head was filled with thoughts of Chase. I wished more than ever that he would contact me, even just so I’d know if he was doing okay. I could deal with not knowing about anything else, but I wanted him to be safe. I was so worried that I’d been nauseous all day. Now, I could feel some hunger in my system but the nerves were making me so jumpy I knew that I wouldn’t be able to eat. In the car, I dialed his phone and let it ring and ring before hanging up in frustration.
Damn you, Chase,
I thought.
Damn you to hell for ignoring me like this
.

The drive home seemed to take no time; my mind was completely preoccupied. I was functioning on autopilot as I got home and stripped out of my jeans and top. Staring at my closet, all I could see was Chase’s face. Was he injured? Was he hurting? Tears came to my eyes as I thought about him tied up and alone in some dangerous warehouse.

All of my clothes blurred together and looked the same. I sat down on my bed with my head spinning and flopped back into the soft covers. Digging through my purse, I pulled out my phone again and tried to call Chase. This time, it went straight to voicemail. The knot in my stomach got even bigger as I realized that his phone was likely turned off. Goose bumps formed all over my body as I thought about him alone, hurt, or possibly dead. I stayed prone on the bed for what felt like hours, crossing my fingers and praying out loud that Chase would be okay. I hadn’t prayed in years and it felt a little disingenuous, but it was the only thing I could think to do in the situation. Chase had become so important to me in such a short amount of time. Even though he’d been to prison for dealing heroin, I knew I couldn’t hate him or freeze him out. Sure, I didn’t exactly want to be his girlfriend anymore. But I couldn’t just let him die.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to stand up and walk back to my closet. The only things even
appropriate
for dinner were the dresses I’d bought to sing at The Pink Diamond. Already it seemed like a lifetime ago. I missed the singing gig a lot, but I knew that right now it was too dangerous. Still, looking at all of my sparkly, slutty gowns made me wish I was going on stage that very night. At least it would distract my nerves.

Twenty minutes later, I was settled on a V-neck emerald green cocktail dress, covered in sequins. It was too flashy for something so casual, but it was either that or show up in jeans. Somehow, I had a feeling that Mark wouldn’t mind if I overdressed. Blushing, I stood in front of the mirror and squeezed my arms together so I looked like I had cleavage. Before I knew what I was really doing, I reached into my dress and adjusted my breasts higher and to the center. Stepping back, I admired my handiwork—now I looked like kind of a woman, instead of just a little girl playing dress-up.

Chase was still at the forefront of my mind as I went into the bathroom and did my makeup. Automatically, I let my hand create a cat-eye with liquid liner and added three coats of mascara. After I’d adjusted my eyebrows and smoothed on a luminizing moisturizer, I was done. As I stepped back from the mirror and admired myself, I could have sworn that I heard a knock on the door.

My heart jumped into my throat as the pounding increased. At first I hid behind my closet door. But when the knocking didn’t stop, I slowly walked into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Call me crazy, but I didn’t believe it was the gang; wouldn’t they just have knocked down the door instead of knocking?

As I got closer to the door, I heard a familiar growling voice. “Lacey, let me in!”

With my heart still pounding, I cautiously opened the door an inch and peeked through the crack. I had the chain locked and a hand slammed against the door, making it bounce closed.

“Chase!” I cried out. “Is that you?”

“Who the fuck do you think it is?” Chase growled. “Now let me in! We need to talk.”

As quickly as I could, I slammed the door shut and undid the chain. When I opened it wide, Chase pushed past me and bounded inside. He was breathing hard and there was a film of sweat on his forehead. He smelled more like musk and man than ever before.

“Lacey,” Chase began in a gruff voice. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you—”

“Peyton’s The Manticore,” I blurted out. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”

“I know,” Chase said finally. “I know all about him.”

Chapter Thirty Two

I stared at Chase in shock. “You know?” I asked after what felt like a long silence. “What happened? Where have you been?” Suddenly my panic and anxiety were turning to anger. I was angry that he couldn’t have called and told me what was going on. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have spent the day twisting myself into knots.

“I’m sorry,” Chase said again. He looked up at me, his green eyes looked lighter and more sincere than usual. “I’m really sorry I didn’t listen to you, Lacey. And I’m sorry I lied. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

I shook my head, unable to believe that now of all times he was apologizing for everything. “Chase, don’t you think it’s a little late for this?” When he didn’t reply, I let out a deep breath that I’d been holding since I answered the door. “I mean, what’s going on now? What do you know?”

Chase shook his head. “I don’t wanna get into it,” he said darkly. “Can’t you just accept that?”

I shook my head furiously. “Hell no,” I replied. “You have to tell me the whole truth, nothing but the truth, and start at the beginning. You got that?”

Chase eyed me. He made a show of looking over my whole body, from the top of my head to my painted toenails straining in my high-heeled sandals. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention from him anymore—it had been weeks now—and I felt a hot blush rising over my cheeks. “Where are you going?” he asked gruffly. “You sure you have time to hear this?”

“I have all the time in the world,” I said drily. “I’m thinking of canceling my plans just so you can tell me everything you know.”

Chase’s eyes flashed with anger. “Are you going out with that pussy single dad?” He snorted. “Should I just drop you off at his place? I bet he won’t make you suck his cock,” he added in a nasty tone. Some of the anger returned and I balled my hands into fists at my sides.

“We need to talk, asshole,” I said under my breath. “And no, I’m not going out with him.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Chase glared at me.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, snorting. “Come on, better get ready. I can tell you’re wearing perfume, too. How fuckin’ desperate can you get?”

I squinted at him angrily and reached out to push him away. When my hands made contact with his chest, I felt sparks fly between our bodies. “I hate you,” I hissed. “I hate you so fucking much, Chase. I wish I’d never met you!”

“That makes two of us,” Chase replied. He stepped closer, closing the distance between our bodies. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this shitstorm in the first place.”

I put my hands on my hips and leaned away, breathing heavily. “Fuck you,” I repeated. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have found out about Peyton! You might even be dead!”

Chase looked at me with solemn eyes. “I know,” he said finally. All of the anger and irritation seemed to have melted out of him instantly. “I know,” he repeated. “And I’m sorry. I don’t hate you, Lacey. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. As much as I still wanted to beat him with my fists and howl in rage, I knew that he was probably right. And deep down, I knew that maybe I had even helped him survive. But what was going to happen now?
 

Letting out a deep sigh, I looked into Chase’s eyes. “Just tell me the truth,” I said slowly. Chase kept his eyes locked on me as I reached down to unbuckle my precarious shoes. When I had kicked them off onto the floor and massaged my feet for a few seconds, I sat down on the couch and looked at him expectantly.

“Where do you want me to start?” Chase ran his hand through his short cropped hair. “What should I say?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said finally. “Tell me about what happened after Rose was killed.” Chase winced at the sound of her name and a stab of guilt pierced me. “Or whenever you feel comfortable,” I offered. “I just want to know what’s going on.”

Chase took a deep breath. “After Rose was killed, I was in a bad place. I was still hooked on junk and I was selling with this kid, Marco. He betrayed me and wound up headless. I thought it was just the two of us working together, he never told me his source.”