Page 24 of How to Get Even

Before he’d lost it.

Chase searched the streets below, his gaze scanning the tops of heads until he found what he was looking for. He followed the blonde cap of hair across the road and into Central Park, already regretting not having told her about the diversion.

He turned back to the apartment when Bella finally disappeared from view and made his way towards the shower, peeling off sweat-soaked gym clothes and tossing them onto the floor as he went.

But by the time hehadrealised he had a problem, Chase had wanted to find a dark hole and crawl into it. But he’d still been booked into a final show in Amsterdam that he couldn’t decline, because he’d also agreed to an interview with a magazine as part of it. If he failed to turn up, he’d be in breach of contract which would cost him a shit tonne of money. Which wouldn’t usually be a problem, but for the fact that the majority of his money was tied into a joint account that his wife had locked him out of.

Tej would have loaned him the money, but if there was one thing that Chase was not, it was a freeloader. Hell, he’d go back to Secaucus and go work in his dad’s garage before that happened.

By that point he had been living in a Premier Inn for nearly three months, only having gone back to the flat when he’d known Annalise would be out, so he could pack a bag of clothes. He’d wanted nothing else. Nothing of her, nothing of what they were supposed to have had, no pictures, no memories, nothing. He’d left his wedding ring on the dresser where she’d see it, and an envelope with the first round of what would prove to be many rounds of legal papers from his solicitor.

Everything had hurt. His mind, his body and his soul. But he’d still got on the plane to Amsterdam with the hope that maybe, just maybe, being around creative types, being around his own art was what he’d needed to paint again.

And that was when he’d met Astrid.

Chase turned on the spray in the shower.

Astrid.Man, he’d fucked up big time with her.

She had been such a surprise to him. A genuine, honest-to-God surprise and the very fucking last thing he’d expected from his trip.

He’d been a grumpy, monosyllabic bastard, partly because the visit to Holland hadn’t been the proverbial magic bullet and being around people admiring the art he could no longer do, expounding the virtues of technique and inspiration – all of which had frankly been a load of bollocks – had just made him angrier.

By the time Astrid sat down to interview him, he was ready to explode. And he did just that. He launched into a rather impressively disparaging diatribe against everything that was wrong with commercial art, the lack of originality, of true authenticity, of the failures of successive government funding cuts, and how social media had lobotomised a whole generation of young people into thinking that fucking NFTs were a genuine way of owning art. By the time he’d stopped to catch a breath, he’d thought she’d have bolted. But instead, she’d looked up at him like she wanted to rip his clothes off and had asked if he wanted to get out of there.

Yes. Yes, he damn well had.

But what was only supposed to be a short-term thing had rolled into an exchange of messages and happy coincidences in travel plans. They’d met several times over the next few months in different cities. Chase, happy to get as far away from the fact that he still hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in months, was drowning in denial. Half-finished legal paperwork and a readily dwindling bank account didn’t matter when you could lose yourself in an intelligent, beautiful woman who seemed to find you quite fascinating.

He’d been a fucking coward, that’s what he’d been.

But it had come to a head when Annalise, incensed that her increasingly extreme attempts to get his attention weren’t working, had managed to track him down the first time he’d tried to use his joint credit card to pay for the hotel he’d booked in Paris for him and Astrid.

He’d come out of the shower to find Annalise staring somewhat victoriously at him from the doorway beside a truly horrified Astrid.

‘You’re fucking married?’ she’d rightfully demanded. ‘You’re… I…’

Chase swallowed even now at the memory. She’dneverbeen lost for words. The passionate, near constant, jubilant stream of words that poured from her like no one else, had been completely stopped by his actions.

She’d tried to mask the hurt she’d felt, but it had been too late. He’d felt it. And he’d deserved to, too. He’d behaved like a selfish bastard and there was absolutely no excusing it.

Guilt and shame twisted painfully in his gut. And while he’d genuinely believed that his marriage was over the moment that he’d walked in on his wife and his best friend, legally he’d still been married. And while he’dalsoknown that Annalise had painted a less-than-true picture of the state of things when confronting Astrid, it hadn’t mattered, because legally he’d still damn well been married.

His dad had brought him up better than that. Christ, his mother… he wouldn’t have been able to look her in the eye.

He dropped his head to the cold shower tile. The look on Astrid’s face. He’d never forget it. And he never deserved to forget it.

5

Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.

THE ART OF WAR, SUN TZU

OPERATION TROJAN HORSE

Get CM’s password.

Kill CM.

---