Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal)(20)

“Because Clint is the reason I married you.”

Oh, God.

My stomach dropped and my head began to spin.

Suddenly, I felt weak. My grip tightened around the glass, and for a moment I feared it might snap. I stared at Chase shell-shocked. “Did Clint make you do it?”

Sighing, he leaned forward to lift the bottle from the bar, poured himself another glass, then shifted in his seat, his eyes still avoiding me. For the first time something flashed across his face. Judging from the way his expression hardened and his shoulders tensed, he was fuming mad.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain that I thought was addressed at me. “Your stepfather destroyed everything we had. Our home. My family’s business. Everything my parents had built in thirty years—all lost in the span of a few weeks.” His voice was quiet but firm, every word spoken with so much hatred, it made me flinch. “He ruined us, so it’s only fair that I destroy and ruin what is his.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, struggling to find the words as confusion wreaked havoc in my head. “What you’re talking about is a personal issue. It’s…my God, it’s—”

“Revenge.” He looked up. I shrank back at the intensity in his glance. “Revenge, Laurie. You were the only way to get close to him, I guess.”

My heart started to hammer—fast and hard, just like his words.

I held my breath as I took him in—the way he let the golden liquid swirl in his glass, his face drawn in concentration, as if it took great effort to do so.

He downed his glass before he continued, “When we first heard of you, we thought you had a close relationship with him. I mean, he adopted you.”

“I don’t have any relationship with him.”

“We didn’t know that back then,” Chase said and shook his head. “He sent you checks every month.”

“Which I always sent back,” I interrupted.

He shook his head again, as though it didn’t matter. “Anyway, we dug deep. We found out that his business is tied to your mom’s money, your inheritance, so the plan was to marry you and ruin him.” He put the glass away, and slowly turned his whole body to me. He eyed me as if I was an object, not a human being—with cold, calculating eyes that scared the crap out of me.

I had never seen him so detached. So—

Different.

“So what I am to you?” My voice sounded awfully thin. “A pawn in your play? Collateral damage?”

He didn’t reply.

Worse yet, he started to bite his lower lip. In the short time I had known Chase, I had learned that it meant whatever I’d just said was true, though he wouldn’t admit it.

Piece by piece of me began to crumble to bits. My throat closed up. The confined space felt devoid of air.

We had no future. None whatsoever.

My lips began to quiver. I swallowed hard, over and over again. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry over him.

Stupid me.

All that time, I had thought Chase cared for me. Even after finding the folder, my heart came up with bullshit excuses—him being in trouble, involved with the wrong kind of people, needing money.

Never in my wildest dreams had I envisioned that I had been targeted because of something my stepfather had done. That it might all be a ploy to get revenge.

In a deep corner of my mind, I recalled tiny morsels of conversation between Clint and his lawyer I had often overheard. As a child I had always assumed they were talking about won trials, boasting about the things they had done and all the money they had taken.

I had realized a long time ago that Clint wasn’t who he pretended to be. I wasn’t sure what to think anymore, but I was inclined to believe that Chase was probably one of the people Clint and Aldwin had harmed.

Clint had many enemies, so why wouldn’t Chase be one of them? It was impossible to like someone like Clint who stopped at nothing to further his own gain.

Greed did that to people. And Clint was as sneaky as was humanly possible. When he first met my mom, he was a car salesman with the necessary character traits to make it big—manipulative and passive-aggressive—two qualities he managed to nourish in the following years.

Looking at Chase, I realized maybe they had that in common.

“You said your inheritance isn’t worth anything to you,” Chase said, interrupting my thoughts. “If that’s really the case, it all doesn’t matter. It’s a marriage of convenience. You wanted the letters, and I want revenge. What’s so hard to accept?”

The way he put it—cold and cruel, as if we were talking about a business transaction rather than my family; as if nothing had happened between us, and I was only a random encounter in his long list of women—I felt like slapping him.

Maybe you were like a random encounter, Hanson. Easily forgotten.

My heart began to bleed. If he could have seen inside, he would have seen all the blood seeping out of me. There were cracks here and there, little pieces chipping away, and large fragments crumbling to bits. My throat closed up. The air felt devoid of oxygen.

We had no future.

The realization hit me hard.

None whatsoever.

I knew it all along, but had pushed it to the back of my mind. Now I had no other choice but to face the truth.

And it hurt like hell.

“I thought you wanted to help me.” My voice broke so I cleared my throat to get rid of the stinging sensation inside. “I never thought you had your own agenda. I thought you cared about me. That’s all.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” I smiled bitterly and shook my head. “You used me.” A silent sob remained lodged in my throat. “You didn’t care if I got hurt, Chase,” I whispered. Tears began to gather in the corners of my eyes again.

I didn’t want to cry and yet I knew I couldn’t stop the tears that would soon fall.

“I need your inheritance to destroy him, Laurie.” Even though his voice was quiet and steady, I could hear the plea in his tone.

“At my expense,” I stated the obvious.

Chase reached for my hand, but I leaned back, pulling it out of his reach.

“Admit it,” I said angrily, the pain inside me sharp and raw. “You wanted revenge at my expense. Just say it. We both know it’s the truth.”

He took his time to reply, hesitating, as though his silence would make it all less real.

“It needed to be done,” he said slowly. “Even if I weren’t a part of this, even if things didn’t turn out the way they did between us, my brother would have made his move on you. It was either Kade or I.”

He made it sound like it was a positive thing. Like I could be passed around. Like I should be grateful it was he and not Kade.

The thought hurt me more than I cared to admit.

I had never felt so insulted in my life.

“So, it was either you or he,” I repeated, laughing darkly as I remembered how close I had been to going out with his brother. “Boy, I’m so spoiled with choice.” I grimaced. “Doesn’t Kade know we got married or why else would he be following me?”

Chase sighed and ran his hand through his silky hair. “I haven’t told him.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

He closed his eyes, his fingers pressing the bridge of his close. When he opened them again, his expression was hard. His eyes looked like stones, tearing down my wall. I could feel his hate for Clint seeping into my soul. “It’s not personal, Laurie. If you just tried to understand why I did it then—”

“Then what?” I cut him off. “I’d see your point? Trust you more?” I shook my head, ignoring the little voice inside my heart that begged me to give him a chance. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t sign up for this.”

I clutched my bag and squeezed into my shoes. “The conversation’s over. I’m not listening to you anymore. Tell the driver to stop the car.”

“No, I need you to listen,” he said calmly.

But I couldn’t. “Let me out, Chase.”

“We’ll be at the hotel in a few minutes.”

“I want to leave now!”

His lips tightened. “Laurie, you don’t even know where you are.”

“That’s not your problem,” I said harsher than intended. “Stop the car, Chase.”

“Please,” Chase said softly. “I can’t let you go before you understand.”

“Trust me, you were very clear when you said everything you did was out of revenge. What more is there to explain?” He remained silent. I nodded. “Exactly. There’s no point in wasting each other’s time. Now tell the driver to stop the car.”

When Chase didn’t move, I turned around and leaned over the seat to hammer against the divider in the hope the driver would hear me. “Stop the car.”

“The driver doesn’t speak English,” Chase said. His voice was calm, but I could hear the slightest hint of desperation in his tone. “Besides, I instructed him not to stop, no matter what happens. I’m afraid you’ll have to listen to me for a few more minutes.”

I stopped the hammering and turned to face him, my face a mask of fury. “You have no right to hold me here.”

“No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.” His response surprised me. “Please, Laurie, you haven’t heard it all. This is important. It involves our future.”