The Dark Prince (The Dark Prince Trilogy #1) (8 page)

At the age of fifteen, he learned how to protect his mother as a gun was pointed to her head, her eyes filled with fear. Chase shot that man in the face, missing his mother’s head by inches. It wasn’t the first man he killed, and it wouldn’t be the last. He shot to protect. His heart wouldn’t allow him to kill someone for the joy of it.

Chase did get a thrill out of killing the people who deserved it. Sometimes, he took his time, causing as much pain as possible. He’d take pleasure out of hearing the screams, the begging, before finally giving mercy. Other times, he’d just kill them flat out. But he hated killing innocent people who did nothing against what his family was doing.

Because he was the Prince of the Marcel family household, he had no option but to learn the ropes. The only difference between his father and himself was their view of the world. While Ivan thought everyone should bow down and obey his law, his words, Chase wanted the world to be a safer place. He didn’t like killing. Didn’t like seeing the fear on people’s faces.

Chase knew he needed to put his touch on things. He’d be changing how things were handled, how things were wiped clean as if nothing ever happened. He was fed up with how things were covered up and seemed like normal everyday accuracies. Chase would be putting a stop to drugs, sex trafficking, and cold blooded killings.

Once the news was out that he was married, things would take a drastic change. Ivan wanted Chase to be married by the age of twenty, but somehow, Chase got it pushed back until now. With marriage, he would be slowly taking over for his father, bit by bit. Ivan would no longer have a say in how Chase ran things and before anyone knew what hit them, his mark would be painted.

Chase already had the person he’d be using as a right hand man in his plans, making sure that he had an in for every possibility. He knew his father wasn't happy with the way he went about things, but it was best for everyone. They would understand after the shock wore off.

Remembering why he choose Summer, and of course in turn Clare, was because he wanted to piss Jason off. He wanted Jason to sweat while he waited as his men slowly disappeared from his clutches. One by one.

Trent was already on a hunt for a couple of men who would never be found come morning if the man did his job correctly. Chase was a powerful man, and with having a few friends that worked under Jason’s tight hold, things had been in motion for a few years now.

Chase quietly laughed to himself when he came upon the stack of boxes that Clare had sat out for him to look through. There were a good ten boxes by the door that needed donated, and another five boxes in the closet filled with books.

His pile sat near the window and contained three boxes. One was filled with porn items. Lubes – that was sure to be dried out by now – and a few toys. He never really liked the toys, as they were gifts from Trent and they would be thrown out. Chase had always had better ones he preferred to use on women he took to his bed, not that there was many.

He would just throw it all out. The next box was filled with porn movies and magazines. He smirked, remembering a time he had used these daily. There was no need for them now, tossing them out too. The last box was filled with a few school mementos, which he took to the attic. He’d look at them sometime later.

Peeking in on the girls on his way back from the attic, he found Clare alone asleep on the bed. Listening, he heard a few pans being moved around downstairs in the kitchen, so he made his way there. Walking quietly, he found Summer starting on dinner as she hummed to herself. Would he ever cease to be amazed by his girl?

Chapter 8

Summer woke up feeling much better than she had for several days. Her head was clear, her thoughts unjumbled. She almost felt refreshed.

Her emotions and thoughts were calm, back to her normal concerns. She refused to think about being married to a man she didn’t know. Married to a man who worked for the mafia. Not thinking about it made it not real, right? At least, that’s what she hoped.

She left Clare to sleep, since the young girl needed it. Summer couldn’t remember when Clare had came to lay with her, but it was welcome nonetheless.

Summer was unsure of what all had happened but she wanted – no she would – act like nothing had happened. If Chase wanted her again, she of course, wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. Truthfully, she almost wanted to see if normal sex with him was just as good as drugged sex was. She wasn’t sure it was even possible.

Making her way down to the kitchen, she tiptoed down the stairs, not making a sound. Her bare feet brushed the carpet. She had heard Chase moving things around in the spare bedroom as the door was left opened when she stepped out of the room she had been sleeping in. The growl of her hungry stomach drew her attention to the fact that she had slept the day away.

Getting out the pans that she would need, along with the ingredients for chicken spaghetti, Summer began to hum quietly to herself. She had heard an annoying song a few weeks ago, and no matter how often she tried, it got stuck in her head. Plus, she was in a good mood. She was safe, had a nice warm bed to sleep in, and knew without a doubt that Chase wouldn’t hit or kick her. There was something about him that warned her to be careful, to not test his limits, but he wouldn’t hurt her. Summer didn’t think he physically could hurt her for some reason.

As she removed the boneless chicken from the boiling water, she felt eyes on her. Instantly, her humming stopped and she stiffened her once halfway relaxed shoulders. She didn’t know what to expect from him now that he was in the same room as her. She thought she would act like nothing had happened between them, but after setting the bowl of chicken she had removed from the hot water on the counter next to the stove and turned around to face him, all coherent thoughts left her.

Chase stood leaning against the doorjamb, looking nothing like the men Summer had been with before. Black hair brushed, although still crazy, bright green eyes, a day’s hair growth on his face, and in relaxed clothing. Almost like he hadn’t forced her to marry him. He looked . . . normal. He was just a man that could have easily looked over her without a second glance.

But Summer knew that he was a hard man, and could pull out a gun without a blink if need be. She had seen him do that just two days before. Or was it three? She shivered at the thought of seeing Nick’s body drop to the ground. Yes, she knew he could be a deadly man if crossed; that didn't stop her being drawn to him.

His stance was calm, waiting. He wasn’t going to force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. His smile was shy, but warm as he gazed at a frightened Summer. Her light blueish eyes widened as she saw the smile, as it wasn’t what she expected. She began to fiddle with her hands, looking down at the floor.

How could this man be so strikingly handsome and fearful in the same moment?

“What are you making?” Chase asked, pushing himself off the doorjamb and began to walk towards her in no hurry. She didn’t answer, keeping her eyes anywhere but on the man. He walked calmly, keeping his hands in his pockets as he strolled to her, peaking at what she had dug out to make.

Chicken, spaghetti noodles, rotel tomatoes and cheese sat on the counter, waiting to be put together. Chase was unsure of what she was making, as the ingredients didn’t ring any bells when put together in his head.

“Now, I know you can talk. You did last night,” Chase said, stepping towards her, his head tilted to the side just slightly. He knew he had promised to not touch her, to let her take the first steps, but he couldn’t help himself. Slowly, he raised his hand to her cheek, running the back of his hand over the slight blush that tinted across her pale face. Her skin was soft and warm. She was so much lighter than his sun kissed skin.

“But of course, you don’t have to,” he said with a sigh, stepping back and letting his hand drop back to his side. She was just too tempting. He’d love nothing more than to pull her into a hug and never let her go again. If only it was that easy.

“Although I would like to talk to you, it can wait.” Chase then went to the table, taking a seat in one of the chairs, and pulling out his phone so it wasn’t so obvious that he was watching her. He was drawn to her, but he also was drawn to her the first time he laid eyes on her. He’d always be drawn to her, no matter how much time passed.

~oOo~

Chase Marcel, the Marcel Prince, entered his oversized family kitchen. He was dirty from head to toe, but what ten-year-old wouldn’t be? He had been outside playing with Trent and Jackson in the water sprinkler, and ran in to get a drink. He skidded to a stop, seeing his mother talking to a woman with a scared girl clutching to her leg. The woman was about the size of his own mother, but had a determined look about her. She was running from something. Chase had seen many people come and go, so it was nothing new. But the little girl caught his attention.

Sure there had been other children to pass through, but none that looked like this one before him. She was covered in hand shaped bruises up and down her arms. And one side of her face looked like a fresh bruise. But her brown hair was high up in a messy ponytail, a number of strays falling all over the place. He couldn’t deny she was a cute girl.

This little girl was so . . . . tiny. He went to school, so he knew that girls shouldn’t be so thin that the skin was almost transparent. Her pale blue eyes were sunken in with dark circles under them. It sort of looked like a mask was covering her eyes with how dark the circles were. He was tempted to call her raccoon because of it.

Either she was sick with something that Chase couldn’t understand at his age, or she was born into the wrong family. Kayla was well known for helping the abused.

“Please, Emma, I can help.
We
can help,” Kayla said, almost begged. “We have connections. We can get you both somewhere safe. Never to be found again by anyone.”

“He’ll find her. I have no choice but to let him have her,” the woman was in tears, running a hand through the messy brown locks of the girl. Chase met her frightened blue eyes, and knew that her life was different than his. Her mother felt she had no options in keeping her safe.

The little girl’s eyes will filled with fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the past. His heart hurt just looking at her, knowing she, of all people, had to go through the hands of fate such as this.

“Oh, Chase,” Kayla said, seeing her son peeking his head around the corner. He was hard to miss with crazy hair and his bright green eyes that were framed with dark lashes. “Would you mind taking Summer outside while I talk to her mother?”

“Sure, mom,” Chase said, happy to maybe make a friend. Maybe he’d even come up with a way to get the little girl to not be so afraid. His mother always told her was the smartest boy alive.

“Go on,” the girl’s mother urged, patting her back gently.
The girl nodded her head before slowly following the older boy out to the back yard, his drink forgotten.

“So why are you here?” Chase asked, wanting to know everything about the girl. She looked so small in the oversized clothes she had on. Clothes that were once his, even. But he didn’t care. For such a pretty girl, he’d happily let her have anything of his. With just one look, she already has his heart.

“My daddy wants me, and mommy doesn’t want me to go to him,” she answered with a shrug, her voice sweet. “I don’t like daddy. He hits me.” Her chin trembled at the thought.

“Daddy’s don’t hit,” Chase said, sure the girl was making up stories.

As they got outside, Jackson waved at them, a happy smile in place. But Chase only had eyes for the sad girl. He took note that as the bright, hot sun touched her hair, it glistened with red highlights.

“He does. He doesn’t like it when I talk, or make noise. So he hits me when I’m too loud,” she said, tears gathering in her eyes. “He told mommy that if she didn’t let him have me, he was going to kill me and make her watch.”

“Well, you know what? I’m a Prince and one day when I take over for my dad, I’ll make your daddy pay. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be hit,” Chase promised, seeing how her cheeks tinted at his praise. “Or taken from their mother and forced to be with someone they don’t want to be with.” He could see that she was meant to be a Princess. His Princess, he declared.

“I’ll make you my Princess, Summer,” he said, his voice strong.

At the time, being so young, the thought was simple, easy. Little did Chase know that years later, he may not be able to keep those promised words, but his goal was still the same making sure that the little girl would have the best life he could give her.

From that first moment, Summer had him wrapped around her pinky, and he’d keep his promise, even if he took his last breath to do so.

But also, he had no idea what types of trials he’d face not only within his family, but between his friends.

~oOo~

Summer cooked the noodles in the boiling water she had just removed the cooked chicken breast from, cut the cheese into cubes in a skillet with the can of Rotel letting it come to a simmer and then took the now cooling chicken and cut it up into bite sized pieces. She removed the cheese sauce from the heat then prepared to drain the noodles. Chase watched as she dumped the chicken and sauce into the pan stirred it together, then spread it into a green two handled casserole dish. She then sat it in the oven to finish cooking together.

She took her time cleaning the counter, putting the dishes she used into the dishwasher. She kept an eye on the man, making sure he wasn’t upset at her or needed anything. His gentle touch sent warmth through her, touching her bones it seemed. He made her feel things she didn’t know how to explain. Feelings she didn’t know could be there.

“I’ll go wake Clare up,” Chase said, breaking the silence before standing and giving the girl a soft longing look. Once Chase had left, Summer began to set the table, setting out glasses of water and plates.

She tried her best to make sure everything was perfect, as she didn’t want the man upset at her. She couldn’t remember talking last night, but knowing that he enjoyed her voice did strange things to her that Summer couldn’t explain, once again.

She could remember the exact time she stopped talking. Her father threatened to cut her tongue out if she kept it up. Summer knew that Jason would do just that if she kept it up.

The oven beeped and Summer was quick to grab the oven mitts before opening the door, taking out the dish to sit on the top of the stove. Clare and Chase returned right as she turned off the oven.

“Need any help?” Clare asked through a yawn, standing next to Summer to see what needed done.

“Salad,” Summer whispered, only loud enough for the other girl to hear. The scrape of Chase’s chair against the floor was heard as Clare got the salad ready to be served. The younger girl didn’t comment about her sister talking, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

Once everything was set on the table, they began to eat. Summer stayed quiet, trying to keep her thoughts from wandering. She didn’t want to think about how she noticed certain things all of a sudden. Like how Chase’s lips wrapped around his fork. Or how his long fingers gripped around the cold glass of ice water. Summer briefly wondered if the drugs were still in her system, as she never once noticed such things before.

What had he done to her? What did Valerie give her, exactly? Did she even want to know?

"Summer, dinner is wonderful. I have never had this dish before, thank you for preparing it,” Chase said as he looked at Summer. “Maybe one day you will tell me what it is called." Summer bowed her head as she blushed with happiness. No one had complimented her on her cooking skills before.

“Clare, I have some papers printed out and on the dresser in your room about the school programs. None of them start for another four weeks, but if you could look them over and see which ones you like best, we can look into them more,” Chase said after a few moments between the clinks of the forks on the plates.