Page 27 of Chase

I saw the way her nipples budded under her clothes as she passed me in the street. The way her breathing hitched when I was close enough she could feel my breath on her skin. How her steps became slower as I fell out of her view with a glance over her shoulder. She wanted me there, and even if she hated the fact, she knew it.

Over these past months shadowing her, spying even, I’ve learned a lot about Samantha Coleman. When someone doesn’t know you’re in their presence, their guard is down and they act as the person they are, not the person they think they should be. I know how she likes her tea, the way she leaves her socks beside the washing basket in Connor’s dressing room rather than in it, and how she loves when her pussy is filled with thick fingers while her clit is sucked. The noise she makes as she orgasms is angelic, and the way she likes to sink her teeth into my brother’s flesh makes me wish it was me.

What started as infatuation has become a senseless obsession, a need to know where she is and what she’s doing. And even though I’ve hidden in the darkness these past months, I know it will soon be time to step into the light. I need her to know I’m here. She needs to know that although she told me no, I continue to ensure she’s safe.

The private hospital is quiet like always today. I’m sitting on a bench on the other side of the street from the entrance waiting for Samantha to appear after her shift. It was easy to obtain her work schedule from Josephine Rivera; she owes me far more than a single job offer.

Varley Medical is a place for the rich and famous. It is not the sort of place you can attend on a normal private health insurance package. To obtain an appointment you must already be registered with the center itself. If your name isn’t on the list, you’re not getting in. My family has been treated here since we were children; it was a stipulation of my fathers as he prioritized privacy and security. This past year has shown me exactly why.

Edward Chase, my father, is currently incarcerated by Her Majesty’s Prison Service for charges including fraud, drug dealing, and murder. It turns out it wasn’t only our family he ruled with a brutal dictatorship, it was his whole business empire. I had known since I was a teenager that my father’s world was dangerous. I saw enough men beaten, and took plenty myself, to understand we weren’t normal. But the revelations that came out once Violet returned from Chicago shocked even me. My father is evil to the bone.

My mother was left destitute after the government froze all assets in my father's name. Earlier this year, she moved into an apartment within the same building where my siblings and I live. Our housekeeper, Mrs. D, has become a good support to her and is probably the first female friend she’s had since childhood. Then there’s the added benefit that she is now a grandmother, and I in turn am an uncle.

Violet gave birth to a beautiful baby girl a matter of weeks ago, and my mother loves being there to help. Evie has become her pride and joy and given her a true purpose while we navigate this time of uncertainty. It turns out my mother was as trapped by my father as we all were, but now she’s free. It’s wonderful to see her grow.

What could be considered an ambulance swings rapidly into the parking bay at the front of the hospital, causing me to glance up when it smashes a plant pot. It’s a white van with a high roof, and there are painted red stripes along the side with the words “private ambulance” written in bold black letters. Two men dressed head to toe in black jump out and run up the steps into the building. They return minutes later carrying what looks like a white cooler. I watch as they slide open the side door of the vehicle and one man steps in holding the box.

Inside the ambulance isn’t like you would expect. There’s no bed or cupboards holding supplies. It’s simply an empty van with nothing to suggest any sort of medical work is undertaken inside. My interest gets the better of me, and I stand then cross the street as they close the door. The driver gets in, and I step in front of the vehicle as he switches on the engine.

“Mate,” he shouts out of the open window, “out the fucking way.”

“A question, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind. We have a time-sensitive delivery. Get out of the way.”

“It will only take a moment,” I continue, walking around to the driver’s window. “What goods are you carrying? And do you have an I.D. for the company you’re working for? I notice there are no details on the vehicle.”

“Who’s asking?”

I pull my business card from my inside pocket and pass it to him. He squints at the writing, and I wonder if his eyesight is adequate to be driving. As I look over the vehicle, its dilapidated condition becomes more apparent; the panel edges are speckled with rust, and the front tire is worn to the point of unusable.

“It strikes me as unusual that an ambulance would have no interior fixings or access from the cab to the rear compartment,” I say, signaling behind him. His colleague rattles on the metal, and the man I’m speaking to barks at him to be quiet.

“This is a stand-in vehicle,” he tells me. “It was being refurbished, but my ambulance is off the road so they gave me this one to transport organs.”

“Ah, so that’s what is in the box.” I lean into the window a fraction. “I love gore. Do tell me, is it a heart or kidney in that box? And where are you taking it?”

“Patient confidentiality,” he snaps, then pushes the gear lever into drive. “Back off, Mr. Chase. We must be going.” The van starts to move, and I step back. As he leaves the parking area I take a picture of the number plate. This will require more investigation later, but first, I have someone to visit. I turn and walk into the hospital—if Samantha won't come to me, I’ll go to her. I’m done waiting.

After taking the elevator to the fourth floor, I step out into the familiar reception area. Bryan, who runs the desk, is sitting in his usual position, shuffling papers and talking on the phone. As I cross the shiny tiles, he looks up and smiles brightly.

“Mr. Chase,” he says. “How can I help you today?”

“Is Josie in?” I ask casually. “She isn’t expecting me, but it would be good to catch up.” He lifts the telephone receiver to his ear and stabs at a button I can’t see.

“Dr. Rivera.” The squabbling of a pissed-off woman can be heard as he addresses her. “I know, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Chase is here to see you.” The irrational screeching stops, and Bryan replaces the handset.

“Just go through,” he says.

“Thanks, Bryan. She doesn’t change.”

He chuckles but doesn’t respond. I would expect he’s too fond of his job to do so. With a wave, I wander off in the direction of the office I know well for both business and pleasure.

Josephine is waiting for me when I arrive, standing in the doorway and leaning casually against the frame. She’s wearing a fitted black dress that finishes just above her knee; the neckline dips low, exposing the swell of her breasts. Wide red lips smile brazenly as I drop my hand to her hip then kiss her cheek.

“Business or pleasure?” she purrs, and I laugh.

“Always business, Josie. You know that.”

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