Page 32 of Mind

I stroke her hair and hold her to me. “You’re not crazy or insane honey,” I tell her soothingly.

She hiccups as another wave of tears pour down her face. “No, I’m not…I’m pregnant,” she announces. The entire room goes dead silent. I pull her back and look into her teary, tortured face. Three pairs of eyes focus solely on her. She nods, then crumbles into a heap of tissue and bones as I hold her up.

All three of us gather around, putting all of our love into our circle of protection. Our trinity. Together, holding one another, we let it all go.

X

So, Yoga Barbie is pregnant. Yee-frickin’ haw. This is too good. I couldn’t have planned this better myself. She just moved right up to the top of the fucking list. Taking her and her bastard child out in one swoop? If that doesn’t send a big, giant, flashing message to my girl, nothing will. I’m almost giddy at hearing the news through the bug I planted under the hospital bed. Chase’s people keep underestimating me. You’d think after blowing up the gym, and leaving my calling card, by way of a note on the bed, they’d take me more seriously. Their stupidity, my good fortune.

I pull out the pictures of Bree Simmons and her studio,I Am Yoga. Stupid fucking name. She is yoga? How about, “I Am Dead,” because that’s what she’s going to be much sooner than I planned. My princess and her other two bitches will lose it, make mistakes, once I take out the tiny blonde. Kill her and her kid off and they’ll all be too busy mourning the loss to really focus on keeping me away. That’s when I’ll strike. The funeral will be perfect. I know where that blonde bitch’s family goes to church—St. Patrick’s down on Mission. They’re sure to plan services there. It’s big, and pretentious, just like her family. It makes you wonder how the blonde turned to yoga and a Buddhist way, when her family are die hard Catholics. No matter.

All I have to do now is make sure I have access in advance along with an exit route. That Catholic Church sits on an old, unused, sewer system. Perfect for dragging an unconscious, five foot seven or so redhead. Then, I’ll finally have my girl right where I want her. Somewhere no one will ever find her.

Sitting back, I plop my shiny wingtips right on top of Bree Simmons’s attractive face in the black and white image. She’ll be prettier when I give her a new smile…from ear to ear. I can hardly wait to watch her bleed out.

Chapter 10

Gillian

It’s been a week since Bree’s breakdown and our fight in the hospital room. An entire seven days of avoiding Maria, Bree, and Kat completely. I’ve seen Dr. Madison twice this week. He’s warned me several times not to put distance between myself and the ones I love, but I haven’t listened. Knowing that Phillip was targeted and hurt because of me, that he’s in a coma and may never wake up? It’s weighing too heavily, swallowing me whole.

The doctors say his body is healing well, and that when he wakes up he’ll have already made it past the most painful part of recovery aside from physical therapy. Chase has made certain that Phillip receives round-the-clock care, by way of making a hefty million dollar donation to the hospital. He didn’t tell me he made the donation. I overheard him talking to Dana a couple weeks ago. Instead of bringing it up to him, I let it be. I want Phil to have the best possible care, and if my fiancé can make it happen, then I’ll choke down my pride and let it be. Especially now.

“Baby, get dressed.” Chase enters the closet behind me and pulls out one of my favorite gauzy maxi dresses and a soft cardigan. Dana absolutely hates the dresses I refuse to get rid of. She says they are too boxy for my thin frame. I think they feel like Heaven, but it’s Friday morning, and I need to put on my work attire.

“Chase, its Friday.” I pull out a heather grey pencil skirt and a pastel pink shell. Chase grabs the hangers from my hands and puts the maxi dress and cardigan in its place.

“We’re taking a personal day. I’ve already arranged it. Hawthorne knows how hard you’ve been working and agreed to the time. Said to consider it a comp day.” He waggles his dark brows, pulls me into a clinch and kisses me.

I breathe in his citrus and sandalwood scent that has become the most calming smell in the entire world and rub my nose into his chest.

“I’m taking you out on a date,” Chase announces.

I’m certain that my face must show my surprise, because he cups my cheeks and nuzzles my nose. “I haven’t done right by not wooing you. Today is about us, and enjoying the city. You need a break away from everything, and I need time alone with you,” he kisses the corner of my mouth and drags his morning scruff down the column of my neck, sending chills racing down to my toes. After a quick lick, a bite, and a tender kiss to that spot he adores, the juncture where neck meets shoulder, he pulls away. “Wear the comfy dress. I know you love it, and I love you. Today is about just being us.”

Just being us.

Six months ago, I would never have thought I’d be standing here in my sleep tank and panties while the most gorgeous man alive, my fiancé, claims he’s taking me on a date to just be us. What does “us” even look like? The past several months have been beautiful and devastating, rife with happiness, pleasure, pain, guilt, trauma and everything in between. I feel as though we’ve lived more life in half a year, than most couples do in an entire lifetime of being married.

A small smile lifts the corners of my mouth as I cling to the dress. “Where are you taking me?” I ask while he takes a short-sleeved polo in bright yellow down from a hanger. I watch as he pulls out a pair of khaki chinos from the neat stack. Once I remove my tank and throw on a new bra and panties, I lift the maxi dress over my body, and it falls in a sweep of comfy cotton. It’s a swirling mix of purples and blues with a one-inch strap at the shoulders. I grab the sweater and enter the bathroom.

“Leave your hair down. I like seeing it blow in the wind,” Chase murmurs from behind me.

“Okay,” I give him a coy smile and he digs a hand into the back of my hair landing on the nape of my neck. He rubs circles into the skin under my ear. He gives just a hint of pressure then proceeds to his side of the bathroom where he completes his morning routine.

Once we’re both done and have a light breakfast, consisting of a half bagel, crème cheese and fruit, we’re on our way. When we get down to the garage, I expect Chase to usher me into one of his fancy cars. I don’t know much about cars, but the little wings on one car and the shield with a lion on another tell me they probably cost more than everything my three girlfriends and I own all put together. Instead of cars, I’m greeted by six men all in black suits. New security.

“Okay guys, if the stalker is watching, he will assume that Mr. Davis and Miss Callahan are with me or Mr. Campbell. We will be driving the decoy cars. You two,” Jack points to a couple giant NFL sized men I’ve never met before, “will be taking them wherever Mr. Davis directs. I expect detailed reports sent to me every twenty minutes. If I don’t receive them, I will assume something is wrong. Regardless, I’ll be tracking both of our charges with the GPS on their phones and the vehicle.”

To my left, I see three perfectly matched black SUVs with blackened out windows. “Is this really necessary?” I nudge Chase in the shoulder while whispering in his ear.

He looks down at me and his eyes are hard, unshakable. It’s the same way he looks at an adversary in the boardroom. Serious, and in complete control. “I do what it takes to protect what’s mine. Your safety is non-negotiable.” There’s that word again. I should make a game out of how many times he says the word “non-negotiable.” I roll my eyes, and he puts an arm around my shoulder bringing me close before placing a soft kiss at my temple. “Just play along, my love,” he says and those words remind me that he’s still my Chase. The man that loves me, the one who can be jovial, sweet, and heart-meltingly honest behind closed doors. My fiancé. The man who will grow old with me and always put me first.

“You’re mine, too, you know,” I snuggle into his neck and nip the tender skin there. He wraps his arms around me in a tight hug. His hugs could heal the world, but he doesn’t give them to just anyone. I’ve only ever seen him hug his family and not an all over body embrace, like the ones he gives me. No, those are just for me.

Chase holds me tighter as Jack finishes up his orders. “To forever, Baby,” he says then pulls away and clasps my hand. “Enough. Time’s wasting,” he barks and ushers me to enter one of the black SUVs. We get settled in the back and our new security fills the front.

Gillian

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