Page 28 of Mind

“Chase?”

“Get Jack down to the hospital now. There’s been another message. Tell him to call me the minute he gets it.”

“Yes, sir.” I hear her voice answer as if far away.

We’re moving. Chase is walking me through the penthouse back into our room. Once there, he sets me on the bed. He pulls off my tunic and then gently pushes against my chest suggesting I lay back. He undoes my jeans and pulls them off leaving me in my tank and panties. Then he removes his t-shirt and pajama bottoms, clad only in his underwear. I’m so brokenhearted I can’t even appreciate his beauty.

Tears slip down my cheeks and wet the pillow under my head. Chase maneuvers me into the middle of the bed under our down comforter. He pulls me into his chest facing one another. He holds me while I cry. With other men, like Danny, and even Justin, they always wanted me to tell them how they could fix my problems. Would hound me until finally I just pretended nothing was wrong. So much so, I built up giant walls around my heart that no one could penetrate. Over the past few years and through therapy, I learned that it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to hurt, and let myself feel that hurt.

Chase slides his hands all over me. Up my bare thigh, over my arm and down to my hand, back up, then down my back and into my hair, where he pulls the ponytail holder out, letting the hair tumble down my back. When I’ve quieted, he finally says, “Talk to me.”

I close my eyes and bring his hands up to my lips. I kiss each and every knuckle and the center of each palm. Over the past six months, I was certain I could never love this man more, but that isn’t true. Right now, he is taking care of me the way I need to be taken care of...not judging. Simply, being with me. Letting me have my moment, even though I know what happened in that kitchen is killing him. Not knowing what that note said is probably digging a giant crater into his psyche, yet he tends to me. I come first.

“No man will ever love me the way you do.” I whisper the epiphany.

Chase’s blue gaze meets mine. It’s probably the most open and honest I’ve seen them. “I was put on this earth to love and protect you.”

“To infinity?”

He blinks slowly and gifts me with his small, secretive smile. “Yes. Forever, baby.” He nudges my nose with his and kisses me briefly. It’s not a romantic kiss but it’s just as grounding, solidifying our love. “Tell me, Gillian.”

The words spill out like a too full bowl of cereal. “The stalker left a note, insinuating that he was responsible for the explosion, that he wishes Phillip was dead, and that he might get him next time. Then he said something about who was going to be next.” I suck in a harsh breath trying not to let the emotions overwhelm me again.

Chase brings a hand to my cheek. “Honey, we’re going to find him. Iwillfind him if it’s the last thing I do. I promise,” he assures me.

I pull Chase closer and kiss him hard. He returns the kiss, holding me close. Our faces are so close to one another I can feel his breath against my lips. “Gillian, you need to see someone. A therapist. These flashbacks and panic attacks scare me beyond reason.”

Slowly I inhale a breath and then nuzzle into his skin. “Okay, I will.”

Chase’s arms tighten. “Right away. Not next week, not a month from now, not after the wedding. This week. If you don’t make an appointment, I will.” The tone he uses is his, “Non-negotiable” one that I usually like to rally against. Not this time.

The wedding. I can’t even be happy about the most exciting day of my life. It feels as if everything is falling apart around me.

“Chase…the wedding…it’s too much,” I finally admit what’s been plaguing me the last couple weeks.

He takes a heavy breath, turns onto his back and pulls me over the top of him. I lean both arms on top of his warm chest and set my chin on them. His eyes scan the ceiling looking everywhere but at me. Finally, he looks down, one hand burrows into the hair at my nape, the other holds me close at the waist. His eyes are sad, more so than ever before. “I know. I hate waiting, but with everything that’s going on…I can no longer watch what the stress is doing to you.”

I kiss his chest right over his heart. “You know I want nothing more than to be your wife,” I swallow the giant lump of sadness clogging my words. “But, Chase, the stalker, Phil still in a coma, Anabelle fatherless.” I shake my head trying not to dig too deep into those thoughts. “Bree is a mess and hates me right now. I have to fix my life, or I’m not going to be any good for you…” My voice trembles, and I bite my lip to hold back from falling into a fit of tears again.

“You’re the only thing that’s ever been good for me,” Chase cups my chin, his thumb petting along the cheekbone. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m too selfish to let you go.”

I look deep into his eyes, trying to express with one look the seriousness of what I’m about to say. “Don’t ever let me go. I no longer know who I am without you. We’re one now. It’s you and me. Full circle. Just us.”

His smile is huge and as beautiful as a sunrise. “What you said before, about no man every loving you like I do?” I nod. “I’ll ruin any man that tries to come between us.” He’s as serious as a heart attack. He continues, “We’ll get married, Gorgeous, but as much as I hate to say it, we’ll postpone it a few months. Let’s start with three and go from there. I don’t want to wait a second longer than I have to. I can’t wait to make you Mrs. Davis.”

“God, Chase, you’re my everything,” I admit.

“Come here, beautiful girl,” he says pulling me into a deep, wet kiss. For a long time we just kiss and caress one another, reconnecting on a physical level, now that we’re solid emotionally. His hands run lines all over my body. It’s as if he’s painting a canvas. Small brushes here, long strokes there, all while making it his life’s mission to kiss me fully. A kiss from Chase is an event. He’s soft when he needs to be, harder other times. Simple tugs of his teeth against my top then bottom lip, all work to rile me up. I sigh into his mouth. His hands trace circles over my lower back and start to push up my tank. When his hands cup my breasts I sit up, straddling him, then the phone rings. Chase’s hands fall to the mattress in a heap of muscle and bone.

“Mother hell…” he clenches his teeth down and that jaw tick I’m so fond of starts winking.

“It’s okay. You told him to call you. It’s probably Jack,” I remind him.

That gets his attention. He lifts up, puts one arm around my body and leans over the bed to the side table to grab his phone, never letting me go with the other arm. He lays back and presses a button bringing it to his ear. I lean down and take this moment to place kisses along his wide chest.

“Read it to me,” he says gruffly.

I already know what it says, but can sense the exact moment Chase understands how serious this has become. His chest tightens and his hand on my thigh clenches down. I hug him the best I can, draped over his body.

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