Page 2 of Fate

I snort-cough. “You sent your wife and toddler children with the linebacker to a playdate?” I can barely hold back the bubble of laughter forcing its way up my throat.

He turns his head, a dark-cappuccino-colored lock of hair falling handsomely over his forehead. Reminds me of the blond ones I used to brush off Carson’s brow. Chase’s blue eyes sear mine with a dose of sincerity. “This surprises you? Even after all these years?”

I shake my head. “Not really. It’s just, there hasn’t been a threat to any of us in years, and yet you act like we’re always under siege.”

He lifts a long leg and crosses it over his knee. His Salvatore Ferragamo black leather shoes are polished to perfection. Even his socks arelush.

Socks. Hmm. Maybe I should pair socks with suits so that men can have a perfect match?I pull out my voice recorder and click it on. “Match socks to suits. Look into fabric and colors for the currentline.”

Chase’s lips twitch as he focuses on his phone.

“You know, you don’t have to go to these appointments with me. It’s not your job, nor am I your charity case anymore. I’m making top dollar on my clothing designs, and being in business with Chloe has changed my career for the better. You’ve really done enough.” This is the same argument we’ve had at least ten times before.

He pockets his phone, inhales loudly, and cocks his body to the side. He stretches one of his long arms over the back of my seat. “Kathleen, you are not my charity case. You are my friend. Aside from Carson, my best friend.”

Carson. Even the mention of my former boyfriend and love of my life makes me wince.

“Besides, I made a promise I intend to keep,” he adds solemnly.

I frown. “A promise? That’s the first you’ve ever mentioned any promise.”

His lips shift into a flat line, and he turns back, facing the front of the car. “No matter. We are moving forward and seeing this through.”

I grab his biceps. Hard as steel. Damn, the dude works out. He’s not huge like my soul sister Maria’s Eli, but he’s definitely built to please a woman aesthetically and physically. And since he’s knocked up my best friend once again, she obviously appreciates those attributes regularly. Luckygirl.

“Tell me about the promise.”

He quirks his head toward me. “Maybe one day I will. For now, let’s just hope for thebest—”

“And expect the worst. Yeah, yeah. I know. You’ve said it a hundred times over the past three years. Still, it never gets any easier to hear that I’m going to be deformed for the rest of mylife.”

Chase grips my right hand softly and closes his eyes. It’s comforting that he’s not afraid to touch me, even in the platonic way a brother would. Like the girls, he’s not afraid of my scars, nor does he see me any differently. Nevertheless, he knows I see me differently, and that’s what he’s committed himself to setting right.

“You know, one day you’re going to have to accept what happened to us. To Bree, Phillip, Maria, your wife, your mom, you. None of it was your fault. Danny McBride was a sick and twisted individual who hurt all of us in ways we can’t ever change. But he’s dead, Chase. Dead.”

Chase sighs. “Along with Thomas, the yoga intern, and a host of others from the bombing. I know I didn’t make him obsessed with my wife and her friends, but I understand why he was. I have the same obsession with Gillian. I’d do anything for her and our children.”

I smile, knowing his brand of adoration runs deep. “Love is the healthy form of obsession, and you have it in spades. But you can’t blame yourself for the actions of another.”

“Had I been able to stop him sooner…” he starts, but this time I cut him off by squeezing hishand.

He looks down at our clasped hands and smileshuge.

“Chase, stopit…”

“I felt that,” he gushes, cutting me off. “You just squeezed the hell out of my hand!” His blue eyes twinkle with excitement.

I glance down and realize I’m still holding his hand. My scarred one is gripping his golden, flawlessly manicuredone.

This time, I grin. “I did, didn’tI?”

He nods. “You sure did. See, the day is already getting better. Gillian is going to be thrilled.”

I let his hand go, lift my arm up, and squeeze my hand into a fist. The skin stretches unnaturally tight over the sunken-in holes and bumpy grafts, but I’ve made a complete fist. First time in three years I’ve been able to dothat.

“My mobility has improved.”

“Looks like the oral treatment that rebuilds tissue, joint mobility, and muscle strength is working. Good news indeed.”

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