He aggressively flung my door open to help me out. My insides were on fire. His trembling hands gently caressed my face, wiping my stained cheeks. The look in his grey eyes seared my soul. It was a look I never wanted to see again. Ever. It was ... fear.
He clenched his eyelids closed and pressed his damp forehead against mine. His breathing was labored and I felt his heart beating out of his chest. He chanted to himself, just above a whisper, “Fuck ... fuck ... fuck.”
I stood there. Still. My pulse beating in time with his, giving him the pause he needed. The night air was heavy and humid; it was going to rain at any second.
Rain again. I hated the rain. Especially night storms. The sounds, the smell, the crackling in the air—it all reminded me of that night in my bedroom. The rain pelted so hard against the windows it drowned out the sound of fuck-face’s boots coming up the squeaky stairs. Unfortunately, it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the satisfied noises he made when he pinned my face against my desk and forced himself on me from behind. The rain pouring down in sheets had curtained the windows. All I saw when I had no more fight and my body went limp was a blurry prism of color from an outside light. I hated night storms.
A cold raindrop hit my shoulder. One must have hit Chase too, or he felt me shiver, because he suddenly stopped chanting and removed his head from mine.
“Why would you do that?” His voice was low and gravelly, the anger clearly audible.
I stepped back, needing to put some space between us. It was impossible to think clearly when consumed by his intoxicating smell. I was still mad. Did he really think I would drink and drive?
“I’m not drunk, Chase.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Don’t lie to me, Blue. I saw you fucking fall in the parking lot!” He raked his hands through his hair like a crazy man and let out a growl. A fucking growl. Then he squatted down, taking in deep breaths. I suddenly felt awful for whoever had been in the ring with Chase the past few weeks. But he didn’t scare me. I knew he would never hurt me like that. Instead I was scared for him.
“I’m not lying!” I screamed. “That’s your MO, remember? I had two sips of a margarita.” I was still angry as all hell, but seeing him like this killed me more. He lifted his head and we connected. I knew he believed me, but his confusion still resonated. “You try walking in these freaking things!” In my fury, I kicked my foot out to gesture my ridiculously expensive heel. The sexy Jimmy Choo went flying and missed Chase’s face by a millimeter. Shit. My mouth dropped open. Flying shoes didn’t really help my I swear I’m really sober argument.
Chase grabbed my shoe and stood straight up. He closed the short distance between us and handed me my shoe. “Why would you let me believe you were drunk? Why didn’t you just say so in the parking lot? Do you have any idea?”
I was getting really tired of him saying that. “NO! I have no fucking idea about anything. Because you don’t tell me anything!” I pushed hard against his chest. He didn’t budge. I felt like my neck veins were going to explode. I guess I could rest assured that I didn’t have a brain aneurysm because I was pretty sure my blood pressure at that moment would have ruptured it. Rain started to fall. Hard, big drops.
“I lost my twin sister because of a drunk driver.”
I held my breath.
“She was pissed off at me. She made the stupidest decision of her life and got in the car with a drunk eighteen-year-old who thought he was invincible.” His body went rigid as the rain fell harder. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. “Blue, I swear, when you got in that car. All I could think about was losing the most important person in my life again.”
He swiped at the rain falling against his face. I hated the pain I saw in his eyes. Memories came flooding—all the times Chase commented about drinking and driving, Pete always driving us home after every outing with alcohol (no matter how little), Chase’s overreaction the night at Rosa’s when I said Guy would drive me home. Asher never told me what happened to his sister, but how did I not put two and two together?
Letting out my breath, I cupped his wet face this time. “Hey, I’m right here, I’m fine. Oh Chase, I had no idea about your sister. I’m so sorry. I should have never let you think I was drunk. I was ... just mad and hurt and confused.”
He was distant; his eyes were empty. He broke our connection and paced back and forth. The rain was pouring down his face.
“Aaaahhh!” he shouted up toward the sky. “That night...” He dropped down to a squat and raked his hands through his wet hair again. His elbows rested on his knees as he gripped his forehead. “It was just so fucking stupid. I was so selfish. All I was thinking about was my goddamn self. I should have been watching out for my sister. FUUUCK!”