DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) Page 43

  Most of the time it feels like I can’t breathe and my heart races so furiously I actually think I will pass out. I had a really bad one this morning.

  “Nope. And the attacks are getting worse,” I admit, resuming the picking until the whole front hem of my shirt is one long train wreck of frayed hem.

  “This is not good, Remy. As we discussed before, you’ve come a long way in overcoming the obstacles you put up for yourself. You worked hard to get beyond that horrifying episode from your past and you’ve made great strides, but it will never truly go away. This stress, the emotional fear you’re now feeling, will only make your memories worse. You need to find a way to talk to Chase about that event and let him know how this situation is affecting you.”

  “I’ve tried! It’s not easy for me to work up the courage to tell him that I tried to off myself because I was so screwed up. It’s definitely not easy to have to relive it just so I can work myself up to the telling. Every time I do, I feel….it makes the memories come back from that place of healing I got to. You know, when I had to take the pain killers…”

  I hear Dr. Yamota sigh and settle in feel myself falling deeper into that pit of despair I’ve been running from for weeks.

  “I kept telling myself that this stress came from being drugged in the abduction but-but I know that it’s from the other and I-I can’t handle the thought of my shit getting so out of control that I’m actually lying to myself. Tell me what to do, Doc. I need to know what to do before I push myself right back to that place.”

  I’m begging even as I feel a tear slip down my cheek and I can’t even work up the energy to swipe it away. My focus is trained on that thread, a thread that I keep unraveling with every minute that passes, a thread that has taken on a different meaning right now and is threatening to send me over the edge.

  “Remy. You are not that girl anymore and you know it. It’s just easier to keep looking back at her and feeling that same self-loathing because hating yourself is a lot easier than loving yourself, especially when someone you love is making you feel like you’re not worth loving. Talk to Chase, or I’m afraid you’re going to have to re-evaluate your situation and make a drastic change.”

  And right there is what I’ve been waiting for and dreading. I know that if I don’t change shit right now, I’m in deep trouble. But it’s hard because I feel like I’m spiraling out of control just thinking of leaving Chase.

  “You’re right, Doc. I’ll do it. Before…”

  “Good. Now remember what I told you.”

  “I am not that girl. I am strong and worth loving. I am strong enough to love someone else. I am strong enough to give my trust. I never have to fear because I love me enough to be whole without someone else validating my worth.” I repeat, feeling calmed by the familiar mantra.

  “Good. Now stop ruining your shirt, you always did that during our sessions and it’s not constructive. Go talk or make a break. Either way, you have to choose between one hard task and another.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  I end the call with a grimace and steel myself, making up my mind. I love Chase, but I love me more, and no way will I go back to what I was, not even for him.

  “Chin up, Rem. Rub some dirt in the bitch and keep going.”

  Chapter 27

  Chase

  I replace the receiver with a soft click, instead of slamming the thing into the cradle in a fit of rage that I haven’t felt since I got Remy back.

  “That sounded like more than Remy having a breakdown about some nude photos being put on the internet,” Brick says darkly. I meet his gaze, agreeing though I can’t manage to get words past my aching throat.

  My whole vendetta against Carson, Knox and their little crew of jocks stems not only from the beating they gave me, but also from an incident that threatened to send me into a maddened rage.

  Photos—nude photos—of Remy had ended up all over the net, showing my girl half passed out and naked for the world to see. Her beautiful body put on display.

  I’d assumed that they had taken the photos after a night of partying and put them up as a means to embarrass her—maybe to get her to lean more heavily on Carson when the boy showed his support and comforted her.

  I thought it was his way of weaseling himself back into her life.

  Now I see I was wrong, and God help me, it kills me to think that those fuckers did something to her that drove her to attempt to take her own life.

  “I want to know what the fuck they did to her, Brick.”

  He snarls, his mouth a thin slash of fury. I acknowledge this by baring my own teeth as her words wash over me again. How desperately tortured was my lass to have to repeat a mantra declaring her own worth over and over till she believed it?

  “She wants to tell you, Chase. Just let her tell you for fuck’s sake!” he yells, making my heart thump at just the very thought.

  “You’ve seen me when I get…I can’t expose her to that. If she tells me something really…terrible I can’t promise to keep myself in check, Brick.”

  “You’ll have to. My only other option is grabbing Carson and torturing the truth out of him. I’ll do it anyway, man, but she sounds like she needs to tell you. Honestly, it’s about fucking time you told her what those punks did to you.”

  And that is my worst fear.

  “If I tell her she’ll know who I am, Brick. She can never know.”

  “Why Goddamit! Chase, you need to stop that hiding shit and be who you are. So what if they beat you so badly your face was pulp? So what if you had to have your face reconstructed? So what if they got the drop on you? You’re not weak anymore—hell you weren’t weak then. Those assholes attacked you, brutally, and they got away with it while you closed yourself off and made yourself into someone you’re not,” he yells, making my ire rise so fiercely I have to battle it back lest I fly over my desk and do something I know I will regret.

  “She didn’t love me before! She loves me now, even though I don’t make it easy, she loves me. I won’t give that up. I can’t.”

  I’ve come a long way from that boy who was so desperately in love that he was willing to risk it all just to be with her. I risked not only my pride, but my very life defending her against those animals. In the end, she still chose him.

  Now, I’m no longer that boy and for some reason she loves the man I’ve made myself become. I hate that man at times. He's harder than is needed, and I know that I use him to protect myself, but he’s all I have.

  And Remy loves him.

  “She loves you, yeah, but what happens when she finds out she loves the wrong man, Chase?” Brick asks tiredly.

  “I’m done talking about this, Brick, so save your bloody breath.”

  “Okay, then let me ask you this: Are you willing to keep hiding her from your family? Can you separate both aspects of your life this way and still be happy? Your mom is already chomping at the bit about you not going home. What are you going to do, lie to Remy and go home for a week or two and then come back and live this lie that you’ve created?”

  At the mention of Mum and Tiff, I feel a pain in my chest that I’ve denied for months. I’m playing a very precarious game juggling both worlds at the same time and I know it, but I’ve planned and plotted and finally got what I wanted and it feels like it’s too late, too risky, to go back and try to fix it.

  They’ll all hate me if they know exactly to what lengths I’ve gone to do this. While I’ve closed myself off to Remy, I can’t bear the thought of her finding out and hating me.

  “We go on as before, Brick. Gabe knows the drill and so do you. Get me the information I want. I don’t fucking care what you have to do to Carson to get it. Then I want a game plan to take care of those bastards. Taking their money isn’t enough.”

  “Just tell her who you really are. Please,” Brick says, trying one final time to talk some sense into me.

  “I’m not discussing this with you, Brick.”

  “Good. Discuss it with me in
stead.”

  My heart just about seizes when I look up and see Remy standing in the doorway to my office. From the expression on her face, she must have heard quite a good bit of what we’ve been discussing.

  “Carson is my business, Remy. Go home.” I shout, hoping that’s all she heard.

  I can come back from that, maybe, if I push her hard enough.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you do to Brian and you know it. I want to know who you are, or I swear to God, I’m gone.”

  Chapter 28

  Remy

  I’m so fucking mad and scared and just… I’m having trouble breathing here. After that truly raw phone conversation with the Doc, I forced myself to get in the car and come to Chase’s office. I knew that if I didn’t, I would spend another night chewing myself to death about the doubt and insecurity I feel.

  And once that insecurity takes hold, it will be a very long road back to the place I was just a few weeks ago. A healthy place where I was focused on the here and now, not even thinking of the past except to gripe to myself about my family and the shitty hand I’d dealt myself with Brian.

  Now all I can think about is that morass I thought I’d worked through and how I need to get all of this shit cleared away—in one way or another—before all of it implodes and destroys me.

  My safest option would be to just cut and run and leave all the stressors behind so I can focus and heal. But that would mean leaving Chase. As hard as he’s been lately, I still love him and want to try for something.

  A life. Meaning. Maybe that family he talked about us having. I know I’ll get back to my job eventually because I love it too much to just lie down and give up—but there is more and I want it.

  If Chase can stop shutting me down and just listen…

  And now what’s going on?

  I see him flinch. I barely register Brick as he stops beside me and squeezes my shoulder comfortingly. His eyes are dark when I look up at him, but I see a gentle smile curve his hard mouth and that gesture gives me the courage I need to take a deep breath and plunge forward.

  “Go easy on the guy. He’s not as invincible as he wants you to think.”

  “Thanks, Brick.”

  He walks out and closes the door quietly behind him, the lock clicking shut is the only sound in the room for long minutes as I just stand there and stare at Chase. I center myself and breathe, just breathe as those unusual eyes stay locked on mine.

  They’re hard and cold, part of Chase’s unapproachable look that would normally scare me a little and get me to back off. Not today though. Today I am not taking no for an answer. I don’t give a shit if I promised him that I would stop trying for more.

  He can either deal or let me go.

  God, I hope he deals instead of folding this hand. I am so in love with him and I’m upping the ante in a big way. I’m going all in and praying that we come out of this winners. If not, well I’m pretty sure the only choice I’ll be left with is to withdraw from play and save what little I have left.

  “Go home.”

  Ahhh, so harsh and yet I see an intense desperation there. It’s so strong that for the briefest minute I consider sparing him. I let that wash though. Instead I straighten my spine, schooling my own features.

  “And where is that? I survived something I shouldn’t have survived because I wanted a home with you. You were my home. How can I go home if I don’t even know what that is, Chase?” I ask, pacing over to the seating area and lowering to the sofa with a grimace.

  The extra distance isn’t ideal but I need to sit because my knees feel like rubber when he casts me a molten glare and his mouth compresses.

  So he’s not talking? Fine. Maybe this is the end; maybe I have to accept that I messed up and ruined what little we had to build on, but I am not leaving this office before I tell him what I need to.

  I think that then I’ll have something to rebuild myself on and that, if this doesn’t work out, is all I have left.

  “You don’t want to tell me?”

  He shakes his head once and I see his jaw pop.

  “Fine. Then you can listen to what I have to say.”

  “No!”

  He’s up and out of his chair in a movement that startles me and I look up to see him breathing roughly, his fists clenched at his sides. His face is so filled with fury and desperation that I swallow and have to suppress the urge to flee.

  “When I was—”

  “Shut up!”

  His words slam into me with the force of a full body blow and I rear back in shock when he just stands there and keeps staring at me with icy fury.

  “I was walking home late one night.”

  “Don’t. I don’t want to hear what it is you have to say.”

  That hurts a little, I won’t lie. And I’m really thrown for a loop because he’s acting like I’m about to tell him that I have Herpes or something. For all he knows, I’m getting ready to discuss the recipe for macaroni and cheese, not tell him about my harrowing ordeal and the long months of recovery I endured despite my family’s lack of support.

  “Well you’re gonna,” I grit out, staring him down. “I have a lot to tell you. It’s about my past and a time in my life that I can’t ignore if I want to go the distance with you. If I can’t talk to you about this, if we can’t work through this together, then I’m not sure I can stay, no matter how much I love you. No! Don’t ignore that either.”

  Foolish man. Why is it always left to the woman to be the risk-taker in these types of situations? Sure, maybe I don’t deserve his understanding after the way I’d attacked his character. I know now, and probably knew then, that the way he fights is not a bad thing. I was just laying my own shit at his door…

  But here’s the thing: I truly love the guy and he’s being purposefully obtuse because I scared him away. Where’s all that courage and intensity I saw in the cage? Why is it so hard for him to risk this when he’ll risk getting the crap kicked out of him by Brick or some other mountain?

  “Remy, I’ve told you—”

  “Oh blah blah blah. It’s not easy for me to say these things. And you can bet your cute booty I’m not comfortable baring my heart to you when you’re not exactly interested. I need to do this or—I’m telling you—this is goodbye,” I warn.

  That gets his attention and I see his fists flex and tighten at my words.

  “So, you either listen, or I leave and then I’m gone. Your choice.”

  He tenses even more before his lips curve in a mocking smile.

  “You think I’ll let you go, Rem?”

  Oh, my poor deluded tycoon, I think, tipping my mouth into a sad smile that I feel all the way clear to my bones. Here he stands, thinking that he’s winning when really, we’re both losing.

  “It’s moot. If we can’t talk and work through not only my issues but yours as well, then we don’t have anything, Chase. You can keep me locked up in your house and get me to submit to you in bed, but at the end of the day, it won’t mean a thing. You’re driving me away.”

  My heart is in my throat at his point. I feel myself begging, with my eyes, my body, every fiber of my being. Just listen and I swear at the end we’ll win.

  But he just shakes his head tiredly and retakes his seat.

  “What we have is enough for me.”

  Chapter 29

  Remy

  “You look like shit.”

  I snort out a laugh and roll my eyes when Liv prances into the living room. Her usual pep brings with it annoyance instead of the joy I usually feel upon seeing her.

  Today, I’m just irritable and not feeling it. And who can blame me? That stubborn jackass had called Hensley, gone nuts on the poor guy, and then banished me back home.

  That was it. No talking, no sharing, no trying to be more. Just, no thanks, Rem. I’m more than okay with an empty relationship built on fucking.

  And then he’d had the balls to come home and try his shit with me. As if I’m going to be all hot and bothered when I�
�m plotting my escape. So no, when he’d sidled up to me in bed, after an hour-long dinner in which we did no more than twirl our food around on the plate, I’d nixed that right off the bat and told him in no uncertain terms to get lost.

  Although I kinda do feel bad about that. Saying ‘fuck off, ice cube,’ wasn’t exactly necessary.

  So yeah, no talk, no sex and the stark realization that no matter how much I plan, I probably won’t make it out the door without one of the guys on my ass…BAD MOOD.

  “Ah, I see all is not right in the land of Rem. Tell Aunt Liv what plagues thee," she coos, coming to sit beside me and hug me with a small squeeze and a lot of pomp.

  I sigh and fling the printouts I’ve been perusing for Safe Haven, Chase’s charity, to the coffee table before leaning back and rubbing at my face.

  “I tried to talk to Chase about some stuff yesterday and he totally shot me down. My therapist is not happy with me, and I am so not happy with Chase—or myself—right now. That’s what’s plaguing me.”

  She sits back and contemplates me with a few hmms and ahhs before standing, walking to the bar and coming back with an opened bottle of red wine and two glasses.

  “Here. We’ll drink and talk and figure this out. Tell me what’s not making your therapist happy and we’ll put something together.”

  My first inclination is to avoid that scenario and just bitch about Chase, but I resist and, taking a deep breath, I tell her everything: the fear, humiliation, and self-loathing. How my family abandoned me and how my only saving grace was my grandmother and her hard talking, no-nonsense ways.

  I take a deep breath and feel lighter, freer than I have in a long time. Nothing is like a good, solid friendship. I don’t know why I haven’t spoken to her about this before. Liv is and always will be my best pal. She’s always there for me even if she doesn’t always agree with me.

  I can count on her; she’s as rock solid as they come.

  “Well, hell. That was a little more than the usual relationship drama I was expecting,” she quips, and I snort a laugh at her silliness.