Page 9 of Soul

It takes me a moment, but I notice that I’m holding his hand. The happiness I see in his eyes and the strength with which he holds my hand tells me everything I need to know. I’m safe and I’m home.

“How do you feel?” he asks and leans a hip on the bed. While I take stock of my body, he places kisses all over my palm. He closes his eyes, pressing my hand to his cheek. I push back appreciating the gentle caress.

I point my toes and rivers of tension and a burning sensation trail up my legs. Sucking in a breath, I let the air flow between my teeth until the pain subsides. Squeezing my hands into fists, I find I can barely lift my own arms. It’s as if I’m lying in quicksand, my body having succumbed completely to the pressure and ache deep within my bones. “I’ll survive. Seeing you, though, makes it better.” His eyebrows furrow, but I look away. Scanning the room, I see all the flowers and cards. Three sets of perfect white daisies perch prettily along the window, proving my soul sisters have been here.

Seeing those flowers is when it all comes crashing down. “Oh my God, are the girls okay? Did he hurt them?”

Chase shakes his head and leans forward, cupping my cheeks so softly I can barely tell they are there. “No, Baby, no. They’re all fine. Phillip, too.”

His eyes search mine. Then it hits me. Tears fall unchecked down my cheeks. “What’s the matter? Gillian? Are you in pain?” His face twists into a grimace. “I’ll get the doctor.” He moves to stand, but I hold him in place.

“Chase, your mom. I’m so sorry…” I choke out the rest of what I need to say. “It’s m-my f-fault,” I shudder as tears fall in a deluge of sorrow.

“No, no, no, nuh-uh. Do not even start with that. You did nothing wrong. It’s that sick fuck who did all of this.” Chase kisses my forehead and whispers against it. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m just so thankful, so happy to have you home. Gillian, God…I’m nothing without you.”

I hold his cheeks as he places kisses all over my face. I know it’s bruised, but the meds they’ve got me on are masking any serious pain. “I thought I’d never see you again.” I admit, the grief and residual fear cropping up to dig gnarly claws into my psyche.

“Baby, there’s nothing that could ever keep me from you. Don’t you know that by now?” I smile and he wipes away my tears because I do know that. He’s proven more than once that he’ll do anything, pay any price to take care of me. Only none of us were prepared for the stalker to be my ex-boyfriend, Daniel McBride. It never once dawned on me that he could have a nefarious and demented side to him. During our relationship, he’d been nothing but kind, generous and sweet. Treated me like a queen. Always. Even helped me get that restraining order against Justin when I needed one.

Justin. Another pawn in Danny’s game. Made me wonder if he did have something to do with Justin’s death. I’d bet money on it. Justin was not the type of man to take his own life, especially without leaving some type of manifesto or legacy behind. Plus, the cops found no suicide note.

“How long have I been out?” I push into the mattress and try to sit up. My muscles ache and lock in protest.

“Two days.” Chase’s voice is heavy, as if he’s been carrying around an anvil the last couple days. I close my eyes and try not to let that destroy the warm feeling I have being here, safe, and with the man I love. The man I’m meant to love.

“You’ve been worried.” It’s a rhetorical statement. I can see the shadows underneath his eyes, the gray pallor to his usually tanned skin, and the weight he’s lost. At least ten pounds in the past week. Though I’m absolutely certain I look no better. Before the wedding, I’d lost a lot of weight. Worrying about Phillip, then Bree, and the attack by Justin, and planning our wedding. Add abduction to that list, and you’ve got a woman who’s normally a curvy, size eight who’s now probably a size two.

“I’m just elated you’re back, that you’re awake and on the mend.”

I scooch as much as I can to the side even though my limbs and muscles protest aggressively, sending lightning bolts of pain throughout my body. Clenching my teeth, I move to the side. “Get in. I can feel my eyes getting heavy, and you look dead on your feet.”

“No, you need your space to rest.”

“I need no such thing from you. Believe me, I’ll rest far better if you’re holding me.” I quirk a brow but the drugs they’ve got me on make me slur my words. I’m going down fast. Chase kicks off his shoes and, with great care, centers his body on the space I’ve offered. “I wish you had your shirt off.” I mutter into his polo shirt. He chuckles and runs his fingers through my hair. It’s heavenly. With measured movements he massages my scalp with the pads of his fingers, avoiding the bumps that must surely be there, then trails his hands out, allowing the curls to fall through his fingers. Chase does this over and over. Sandalwood and citrus fill my nostrils reminding me of the safest place in the world. Chase’s arms. I snuggle my face in and let out a deep sigh.

“I love you, Chase,” I whisper.

“I love you, more,” he says my own words back to me, and I know from here on out, I’m going to be okay.

Chase

She’s so beautiful. Even with black eyes and swollen cheeks I can hardly catch my breath looking at her. Little puffs of air slip from her split lips, and I want so badly to kiss her, ravage her, prove she’s mine. That caveman inside, the one I try to curb for her sake is roaring with the need to mark and possess. Only my marks wouldn’t need bandages or medication. That piece of shit put his hands on her. Her chest was bruised…again by an attacker. Did he violate her?

The team did a rape kit when she was unconscious and didn’t find semen or bruising, so I have to hope his abuse never got that far. Her body, though, is covered from head to toe in bruises. The shackles at her ankles and wrists cut deep grooves into the tender flesh. Dr. Dutera has her on a hoard of antibiotics, anti-fungals, and a host of other drugs. It’s a miracle she didn’t sustain any broken bones. I’m thankful beyond measure that she isn’t more damaged. She will heal from this, and if he didn’t violate her, the healing process will progress more smoothly.

I shift the blanket and scan her form from head to toe. Aside from the bruises, cuts, and scrapes she’s thin. Sufferably so. I can feel every rib as I hold her close. The Gillian I met at my hotel bar in Chicago was filled to the brim with curves. She’ll need a new wardrobe although not for long. I plan to stuff her full of food. It’s obvious from how much weight she lost she wasn’t eating much if anything at all while abducted. Probably was afraid to. Can’t blame her. If I’d been in her shoes, I wouldn’t have either. A shiver runs through me, and I pull the blanket tighter around us both and allow her warmth to seep into me. Gillian is back. She’s here, and I have her in my arms. There is nothing and no one who will get between us again. I’ll hire a team of bodyguards to protect her. If I ever let her out of my sight.

I need to call Dana. She needs to get my second-in-command on point for the foreseeable future. I make a mental note to call her later. Right now, I’m perfectly content to hold my girl, feel her breath on my chest, the warmth of her body against mine.

Had anyone told me a year ago that I’d meet the woman I was meant to spend forever with, I’d have laughed in their face. When Megan fucked Coop on the night of our wedding over ten years ago, I never believed I’d get this second chance. No, second chance isn’t right. Perhaps finding Gillian was the way it was always supposed to be. It certainly feels that way. When I’m with her, I can be me. She doesn’t have any expectations other than to give her my time. The only thing she’s ever wanted from me isme. And I want to give her everything in return, yet she seems to want nothing. That’s why the bastard is obsessed with her. I can relate. He caught a glimpse of what it was like to be loved by this woman. Justin was sucked in, too. Only their volatile ways demolished any prospective life she could have had with them. Their loss is my gain.

My entire empire has been built on devastating losses and extraordinary gains. It’s the way of the world. And in this, too, I profited at the highest possible return on investment. I won Gillian. She’s mine. I’d willingly give my life for her, and I suspect she would for me in return. Above all else, it’s her I need. Not money or material things, not the power that comes with doing what I do…just her. I’d give it all away to ensure our happiness. The truth is, I do have considerable power and wealth. All of which I will use to ensure that nothing ever happens to her again. I close my eyes and let out a calming breath, pulling Gillian closer to my chest, burying my lips in the hair at the crown of her head.

I enter the bridal room at a full run and stop cold when I see the back of my mother’s head. Her hair is pulled up tight into a bun, but she’s not moving. Her hands lay limp along the sides of the wheelchair. Blood trickles down the slope of her hand, drops fall from her index fingers into a puddle on the floor.

No. God, no.

The room has been tossed. The bed a jumble of sheets with no coverlet. Chairs are askew on the ground, makeup, hair accessories, jewelry all scattered on the ornate rug. There’s been a mighty struggle. Gillian is not here. Step by step I take a wide berth around my mother’s still form. No movement, not even a twitch, a moan, groan, just silence. Absence of sound, deafening quiet.

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