I tense, knowing this isn’t good territory.
“I don’t know. They… don’t give me times or dates as to when they’ll be somewhere.”
“Why the hell not?” he asks, confused.
This is something normal people would get confused over.
“Because I’ll expect them to be there at exactly that time on exactly that day. Being unable to leave something unfinished isn’t a cute quirk of mine anymore, Chase. Good night.”
He looks baffled, but I turn away and jog up the stairs as the storm continues to batter the house. Having him here is distracting me from the storm.
It’s also distracting me from reality.
Chapter 19
MIKA
“I’m eighteen now! I can leave if I want to!” I scream, pushing my psychotic mother off me.
“No you can’t! You can’t leave me! Everyone keeps leaving me!”
She’s such a maniac. I really hate her. You can’t down five different pills for depression and then drink a bottle of wine. It just makes you crazier. But that’s what happens when you have a dick uncle who gets your mother stuck on all sorts of pills just so he can have unlimited access to her checking account.
He should have been the actor instead of her. He fooled us all like the brilliant asshole he is.
The storm rattles on outside, but I barely pay it any attention. All it does is make me miss Chase that much more—like all storms do. And I don’t want to miss him because I hate him almost as much as I hate my mother.
“I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back. I hate you. I hate this house. I hate your tool of a brother! I hate everything you represent!”
Her eyes are wild and she keeps gripping my arms, slinging me around. “You ungrateful little shit! Do you know what I sacrificed to be your mother?”
“You sacrificed your acting career,” I say dramatically, rolling my eyes. “You can’t even lie good, Mom. Do you really think your acting career would have been that incredible? You’d be a broke wannabe begging for a role, while sleeping in a cardboard box if it hadn’t been for Dad. Who’s ungrateful?”
“Would you two please stop arguing?” Aidan groans from his bedroom down the hall.
I look over at his open door while shoving away from Mom again. He wants out of this as much as I do, but he hates the conflict.
Just as I start to walk down the stairs, Mom is grabbing my hair like the crazy bitch she is, and jerking me back, slamming me against the bannister of the hallway balcony.
“Take that back!” she roars. “I would have been famous. I would have been beautiful. I would have been happy!”
I struggle to get her hands off me, and finally shove my hands against her chest, sending her staggering backwards. The wildness in her eyes multiplies, and she screams seconds before she shoves me hard.
Aidan’s scream of terror hits my ears just as something crashes behind me, and weightlessness catches my breath as my stomach drops.
I jerk awake, grabbing the bed to keep myself from falling like I just was, sweating as I look around the room. The room. I’m in my bedroom. Not in the Mad Hatter’s house.
Blowing out a breath, I look outside to see the sun is glaring brightly, acting as though there was no vicious storm last night. Sluggishly, I slide out of bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Memories dressed as nightmares never taste very good.
After twisting my hair into a messy bun, I throw on a pair of shorts and jog downstairs. But I’m stumbling to a halt when I reach the kitchen and see heaven. Okay, it’s just a naked back, but it’s close enough.
How did I forget he was here?
He moves, stretching to open the cabinet door, and I watch as his lean muscles flex with the motion. It’s mesmerizing, and all he’s doing is getting a coffee cup. The tops of his boxers are barely sticking up above the waistline of his jeans, and my eyes trail over the numerous lines of ink on his back.
My face flames and heats when he turns around and smirks, catching me ogling him. He should have a shirt on, damn it.
“Coffee?” he asks, not bothering to mock me.
“Please,” I say curtly, forcing a tight smile. As I sit down at the bar, he goes to work making our coffees, fixing mine with just a splash of cream. It’s weird he remembers. “Didn’t expect you to still be here.”
He glances over and shrugs. “Shop is closed today. Figured I’d stick around and have some coffee with you. Maybe… catch up?”
Catching up last night was difficult enough. I don’t want to start a new day with the same thing I did last night. That’s not allowed, damn it. It invites in memories like the dream that jarred me awake this morning.
He slides my coffee over to me while taking a seat at the bar across from me. We stare at each other for several long minutes, locked in a gaze that dares the other to look away first.
When it gets too intense, I finally break the eye contact, but I do not look at his body that is lined with even more ink than I knew.
“I’m going to the bowling alley today,” I tell him, even though I had no intention of it before this moment.
“I’ll come with. I’d like to see it.”
Shit.
“Why?”
“Because it was once my dream.”
I look up to see him cocking an eyebrow at me. It’s then I notice how tired he looks. Ignoring his comment, I focus on his appearance.
“You didn’t sleep too well on the couch. Told you to take Dad’s room.”
He snorts derisively. “Nah. The couch was hella comfortable. I just stayed up too late reading about my death.”
My lips twitch, and he nods slowly. “You weren’t kidding about that shit being brutal. Pretty dark stuff when it starts off with them finding my severed cock in a dirty alleyway next to a whorehouse.”
I cover my smile, and he shudders dramatically. “Thanks for those nightmares.”
When I laugh, he grins, sipping his coffee while watching me.
“You should see how you die in the next book,” I say softly, hiding my own twisted smile.
“If it’s worse than that, I think I’ll pass.”
Who would have thought talking about a murder could lighten the room so much?
“So… Heard your dad died. That’s how you got the house, right?”
That causes me to tense, because Whit might have told him more than I thought.
“Can we not talk about that?”
He clears his throat. “Right. Sorry. My bad. Hate that, though. Milton was a good guy.”
“Yeah. He was. Even though he told you to stay away.”
Conflicting emotions wash over me, and Chase blows out a harsh breath.
“It wasn’t like that, Mika. Anyway, I like what you’ve done with the place.”
He motions around at all the upgrades. Stainless steel appliances, newly stained cabinets, and a few other things have modernized the space.
“It’s not finished. Hunter is just taking his time doing things since I’m living here. He tries to accomplish more when I’m not home.”
“Why’s that?”
Deciding not to answer, I sip my coffee as a reason to stay quiet, and then deflect the conversation when I lower my cup again.
“Whit will be at the bowling alley,” I remind him, hoping that deters him from going.
“Yeah. I figured. She won’t mind me coming there, though.”
Jealousy sucks. Does that mean they’re back together? Does that mean he wants to see her? Is that what this is?
The hell am I doing? I’m obsessing again. I can’t do that.
It’s not like I can be with him… And I don’t want to be with him. Sure you don’t, Mika.
“I should get dressed,” I tell him, leaving the table. “Probably best if you’re gone when I get done.”
I don’t say anything else, and he doesn’t either.
By the time I finish getting ready and come back downstairs, he’s already gone, and I breathe out in relief. Now I wonder if I should really go to the bowling alley. Not that it matters. I committed to it now, so I have to go, even if it’s only to step inside and turn around and leave just so I can feel satisfied I was there.
See why I can’t be with anyone? I’m a fucking mess.
Chapter 20
CHASE
I’ve never been out of Georgia before now, and after travelling all this way, I’m exhausted, hungry, and really fucking nervous. I stare up at the ranch house I’ve only ever seen in pictures.
I came all this way, but now it feels like I can’t take another step forward. Mika is in there, and I’m stuck out here because my feet are cemented to the ground.
An old man walks out, hobbling down the steps. I’ve never seen him before, but he’s eyeing me like I’m doing something wrong.
“Can I help you, son? You’ve been out here staring for a while. It’s making me itch to grab my shotgun.”
I swallow down the nerves that have wadded up in my throat. Mom just died, and the first thing I did was come out here. What the hell am I thinking? Nothing has changed. I’m still not good enough for Mika.
“I… uh… I… I’m a friend of Mika Dalton’s…”
Yeah, fucked that up.
His eyes widen. “Oh, well, that’s not going to get you shot. But she’s not here. She and her brother moved out to New York or something. I bought this place a few years back. Haven’t seen the Dalton girl since she graduated.”