This was the real Chase.The man behind the affluent, pretty boy facade. He put a hand over my mouth and whispered into my ear.
“You’re mine, Vaughn. I don’t know what gave you the impression that you could defy me, but you were wrong. I own you. You will do what I say and tell these people that you fell down the stairs after too many drinks with your friends. Then, I will be sending a moving company to your shitty little apartment to get your things, and you will move into my home. You’ve proven that you can’t be trusted. I’ll be keeping a closer eye on you going forward. You should’ve-”
The door swung open, and Chase slowly straightened to a standing position, not giving away that he had forcefully silenced me and was busy threatening me when he was interrupted.
“Did you need something, dear?”
The sweet young nurse was eyeing Chase suspiciously.That chick is evidently a better judge of character than I am.
“No. We’re fine. Don’t you think you should knock before entering a private room?” Chase must have noticed her wariness because he didn’t even attempt to use his charm on her.
The nurse’s eyes narrowed, and she gave him an authentic Southern fuck you smile before saying, “Oh, well bless your heart. I wasn’t actually talking to you, sugar. I was talking to Miss Webb there. Her call light is on.”
Chase was lucky he didn’t break his neck with the violent way he turned back toward me. Shock was evident on his face when he saw the call button lit up on my bedrail. I did my best to mimic the pretty little nurse’s Southern fuck you smile before I said, “Yes ma’am. Would you mind getting security in here? It’s time for Mr. Sheridan to leave.”
It’s quite fortunate that looks have no lethal ability, because I would most certainly have been dead when Chase looked at me in that moment. There was so much rage and contempt in his eyes that I thought he might attack me right there in front of a witness.
The nurse walked toward the door, and Chase took a step toward me, but halted when the nurse said with a sweetness that could kill, “I’m gonna stay right here and just poke my head out the door so I can call for security.”
Chase closed his eyes, trying to gather every bit of composure he could muster. Without turning toward the nurse, he said, “No need. I was just about to leave. I have business to take care of.” Then, he leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on my forehead.
I wanted to start swinging, but I felt that it would be unwise to further anger him. Plus, my body felt like it had been trampled by a rhinoceros trying to beat the top score on Just Dance, so I knew it wasn’t a fight I was going to win at that moment.
He spoke quietly and menacingly into my ear. “You will take this time to rest and come to your senses. Then, you will call me to pick you up, and we’ll get your things moved into our home. Don’t be foolish, sweetheart. You know what’s best for you.”
This mother fucker right here, and the audacity that comes with him.
The nurse contacted the police, and I made a statement. Chase continued to call and text throughout my short stay in the hospital. The texts were all from the original charming Chase. The voicemails were much the same. I’m not sure if he thought I would be fooled by the feigned charisma or if he was just building a case that he was some kind of doting boyfriend.My momma didn’t raise no fool though, so lesson learned.
I had a concussion and some rib contusions, but no broken bones.I could’ve died. My poor judgement could have led to my death.
When the police arrived, I gave a statement and elected to press charges. It’s doubtful that anything will come of it. Chase’s dad is a senator. His mom is a judge. I’m sure their statuses are what make him think he can treat people however he wants and get away with it. I hope he learned a valuable and painful lesson when Elijah nearly collapsed his airway for him.Damn, that was sexy.
I would rather get kicked down another flight of stairs than cower for anyone. If I do go down, I’ll go down swinging. Finding myself in another situation where I look like a fool would be far worse than suffering through some bruised ribs. Having a boyfriend steal money from me was the ultimate embarrassment, but I would prefer that over getting dragged around by my hair in public. The worst part is that I just don’t trust myself anymore. I mean it’s smart. I shouldn’t trust myself. I’ve proven that I’m not good for me but, it sucks.
Maybe I need a proxy to decide whether I’m allowed to date someone, or possibly even interact with people at all. There’s no doubt I’ve made some pretty shit choices in friends as well. I’m supposed to be a fully functioning adult though. Do partially functioning adults elect other adults to handle all their decision making? Yes. They do, actually. Isn’t that how politics work?
That’s it......a proxy. That’s exactly what I need. Only...how do I pick a proxy when my problem is dreadful judgement?
Hmmmm. Who do I know that I trust? Okay, that’s the problem.I trust the wrong people.
Okay, so who do I know who has always treated me well?
Aha! Jax and Marshall. They’ve been tested and found to be stand-up assholes.Sure, they get laid more than asphalt, but they don’t pretend to be someone they aren’t, and they never lead girls on. The women they take home know that it’s a one-night thing, and they’ve always looked out for me like big brothers.
Didn’t they say Chase was bad news from the start? They sure did.They’re the ones who picked me up from the hospital.They took turns crashing on my couch until all the soreness was gone and all my concussion symptoms resolved.
They’re exactly who I need.
It’s my day off, but the guys both have the early shift, so they’ll be at Cornerstone. I throw on a baseball cap and my favorite Converse before heading out the door. I’m on a mission. I do have to take my hat off so I can don my helmet, but helmet hair and hat hair are pretty much the same thing anyway. The hat is shoved in my back pocket, and I twist the throttle.
Chapter 6
Vaughn
There are only a few people seated at tables and a couple more on stools at the bar. I walk over and take a seat at the bar, waiting for Jax or Marshall to notice me.
“Hey, hey! If it isn’t the new Cornerstone dealer.” Jax always has jokes. I knew this would become a thing the moment Elijah downed that drink. My years of friendship with these two has taught me that everything that happens in their lives is just material for their next comedic performance. And their lives are a comedic performance.
