Page 42 of Chase

C: I’m giving you a couple hours then I’m coming to get you. Enjoy your hotel stay.

Smug bastard. I forgot about his phone tracking abilities. I text back.

L: don’t bother. I’m sure your showgirls and strippers will keep you busy.

C: I’m coming now.

I contemplate running, but what’s the point. This confrontation is going to happen at some time. He arrives twenty minutes later, making me think he was lurking nearby because this hotel is at least an hour away from the house. He knocks lightly on the door and I open it and stare at him. He looks like hell, and I know it makes me a bad person, but I feel slightly satisfied that he does. His hair is not fashionably messy like it usually is, it just looks messy. He looks tired, exhausted even. I gesture for him to enter. He takes a quick look around the room and sees my laptop open to the google search of him; he grimaces as he sees it, and then sits on my bed.

“Just let me talk, Layla, okay? Just listen before you say anything.” I nod, I can give him that.

“I haven’t lied to you. I am an architect; I do own my own business. I decided to expand so I designed and built my own club. I decided to make it a strip club after the profits weren’t as much as I had hoped. I hardly ever go there anymore; I have people to do all the work for me. As for Aubrey, she was a famous showgirl in Vegas, and I brought her down to perform at Heat. We dated for a while. Almost a year, then we broke up. That was over a year ago. Now we are strictly friends. And about Ryder, he and I were friends, and yes I saw you at his house one time. I couldn’t explain it; I was just drawn to you. You were so beautiful, graceful and I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Ryder noticed and told me to stay away, which I agreed. Until I saw you at the club, and I knew it was our time.”

I almost laugh at how nonchalant he makes it sound.

“Do I still have a place to live?” I ask abruptly.

He looks shocked, then angry. “Of course you have a place to stay. No matter what. Fuck, Layla, I’m not an asshole.”

I’m pretty sure evidence is saying otherwise.

“What about James and Kade? That article says you were the only son of Wayne Jackson. You told me you were brothers.”

“We are. My dad had an affair with my mom. Resulted in me. Later on she married and had James and Kade. We are brothers, just different fathers.”

”Look Chase. You may not have lied but you omitted. A hell of a lot. And there is no way in hell I am okay with your ex sleeping in your bed. I don’t think I’m even okay with you being close friends, or her coming over when you knew I wasn’t going to be there. You never told me about the strip club. Makes me think maybe there is more you’re hiding from me!”

“Layla, there is nothing going on between us! This whole insecure act you’re pulling, isn’t fucking cute!”

“Don’t put this shit on me!” I croak.

“Fuck. Come on, let’s go home, we can talk more on the way.” He starts grabbing my things and packing them in my bag.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” I yell.

“Yes, you fucking are. I will carry you to the car if I have to.” His tone tells me he means it.

“Go to hell, Chase!” I say bitterly.

“Are you going to be a coward then? Afraid of going to your own house?” he raises his eyebrow in challenge.

I go silent, thinking through my options. I’m devising a plan, when I’m lifted off my feet and thrown over his shoulder.

“Don’t squirm or I will make a scene.” That shuts me up. My mother instilled in me to be a lady, unfortunately, public spectacles weren’t something I wanted to be a part of.

When we get into the hotel foyer, he gently puts me down. He checks out for me, and charges the bill to his card. He tells me to leave my car here; he will get an employee to drive it home. Probably a stripper. As soon as we get in the car I start questioning him.

“Why was she in your bed?” My voice is hoarse.

“We were all partying together. She was tired and drunk, so she asked if she could crash. I was going to sleep on the couch.” He sounds like he actually thinks he did nothing wrong.

“So if an ex-boyfriend of mine came over and I told him to sleep in my bed, that’s okay? You went psycho over me massaging your brother! You can’t have double standards!” His hands tighten on the steering wheel as I mention another man in my bed. Hypocrite much.

“That’s entirely different, Layla. No man will ever be in your bed except me, so no point talking hypothetically.”

Argh! Unbelievable. “This double standard crap is not fair, Chase! How is it okay for another woman to be in your bed, but not for another man to be in mine? Imagine how I feel right now!” I take a deep breath.

“You’re right. I fucked up Layla,” he admits.

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