Beautifully Awake(87)

My heart rate skyrocketed. Nerves were replaced with fury and frustration.

“Why won’t you fucking let me tell you my side?” I snapped and threw my arms in the air. “Everything that asshole said in that courthouse might have been true, but he made me look like I cried fucking wolf. I didn’t ... that’s not what happened.”

“Blue, stop. Just fucking stop.” He secured me in a tight embrace. “Stop.”

“No.” I wiggled, trying to free myself. “You’re going to hear me out, damn it. You need to hear the truth. You owe me that!”

“I don’t need to hear a fucking thing.” His words stung like rock salt in a gaping wound. He pushed me at arms’ length, lifting my chin to meet his icy stare. “Look at me, Lili.”



Hot, angry tears betrayed me. Damn him for making me cry.

“I know the truth. That motherfucker raped you!”

Time froze.

Chase’s raw growl continued to echo through my bones. I fucking hated that word. Rape. I hated that it happened to me. I hated being a victim.

We silently stared at each other. Chase looked feral, the vessels in his neck pulsated while he struggled to regain some control. Damn, the pain in his eyes rivaled my own. The rape I suffered through was ripping Chase apart, and I hated that it had that power. Fuck you, selfish fuck-face. I stopped fighting the tears; I wasn’t going to win.

Chase’s thumbs swiped my face. Oh god, I missed his touch. “That selfish fucker destroyed your spirit, your confidence and even though you never told me, I knew ... I knew something had happened to you. The second I figured out where that asshole was going with those fucking questions, and I saw the pain in your eyes, baby, I knew. It took every ounce of restraint for me to sit in that courtroom and not tear that piece of shit apart. But you need to hear me right now. Never, not for one single goddamn second, did I ever think you cried wolf. Don’t ever say that again. Don’t you ever think you need to explain yourself to anyone after what you went through. Understand?” He shut his eyes for a moment before continuing. “Baby, just when I thought I was breaking through your wall ... that fucker made it go right back up.” His voice was strained.

He let go of my face and ran his hand through his messy hair. I choked on air as my eyes followed his hands. They were covered in green and yellow bruises. His knuckles were raw and swollen.

I released my breath and spoke. “What? If you knew, then why did you pull away? You left me. You ... lied to me?” His confession confused me. He never doubted me, but he left me anyway. Nothing made sense. None of it.

Chase dropped onto the couch with his arms resting on his knees, an all too familiar position, and he raked his hair. Something deep in my gut sank. What the hell? It wasn’t just his hands that were bruised. Deep purple marks tracked up his forearms. I knelt between his legs, bracing myself on his thighs, and looked up into his beautiful face. The marks were less noticeable, but the faint yellow streaks marring his cheekbone and chin were my undoing.



“Chase, what happened to you?” I traced over his bruised arms with trembling fingertips. He looked as battered as I felt. “Please, talk to me ... say something,” I pleaded.

He inhaled. “It’s nothing. I went a few rounds with Asher on Saturday.”

A few rounds? What the hell was he talking about? Asher said he saw him Saturday. I’ve never seen him like that. Then I remembered Chase and Asher’s conversation at Asiate. “Wait. You started fighting again? Why would you do that?” I didn’t want to hear his answer. He was a freaking surgeon, for god’s sake. His hands were his livelihood.

“I needed to blow off some steam. It’s not a big deal.” His tone was curt and dismissive.

“If it wasn’t a big deal, then why did you lie about it? Is that why you took the week off ... to hide your bruises? There was no business trip, was there?”

He didn’t have to answer, the guilt was written all over his face.

“But I don’t understand. I saw Asher today, he looked fine!” I stood right next to him, he gripped my hand, and there were no marks or bruises.

Chase half smirked. “Pansy started wearing gear.”

I saw through his attempt at humor. He wasn’t going to distract me.

“Wait, and you don’t wear gear? What if you broke your hand?”

“I didn’t.” Ouch. He must have seen me wince. “Look, Blue, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry about me. You went through enough last week.”

“You didn’t want me to worry about you?” I rose from between his legs and walked to the window. The rain seemed a little heavier than before. I watched the raindrops splashing in the sidewalk puddles. I hated how unpredictable summer rainstorms were. Sometimes just a light drizzle or a sun shower, sometimes raging thunder and lightning. Since the rain was inevitable, I wished for a light rain with the promise of sunshine, but my gut felt a scary storm building. I hated night rainstorms. “Instead you let me think you wanted nothing to do with me. That you believed everything said in court.” I continued to stare outside, keeping my voice level. “I thought you were disgusted with me, that I was a liar.” I turned and challenged his stormy gaze. “Do you have any idea what this week was like for me?” Running my clenched fist along my sternum, I tried to ease the pain of my pounding heart.