19
“Iamdone,” Chase said to himself as he entered his house. There was no way he could continue as before. Yesterday had been so perfect––Larke surprising him with that amazing andthoughtful day out. They’d spent that same night talking, laughing and making love until they were both exhausted. The next morning, he’d awoken with her head on his chest. She’d been fast asleep, her body tired and sore from all the ways he’d taken her.
Chase had barely taken off his shoes before his phone began to ring. The caller was Roy Simmons, one of Trevor’s underlings. The accountant. He ignored it. His stepfather had probably convinced the man to call for some reason or the other because he was too ill to do it himself.Too fucking bad.
Since the start of the week, Trevor’s condition had taken a turn for the worse. He was laid up in bed, unable to do so much as use the bathroom on his own and was under the constant care of a nurse. Chase curled his lip, half anticipating and half dreading his planned visit to the older man. It was going be ugly watching someone in Trevor’s condition, a man about to die and meet his Maker, try and tell Chase his relationship with Larke was wrong.
“Wrong is laughing after you watch someone pump a bullet into an innocent person’s brain,” he muttered out loud. “Wrong was me keeping my damn mouth shut for so long, even if I was a kid and had nothing to do with it.” Chase crossed the living room, stopping short as his gaze landed and zeroed in on a spot on the wall. It was an old picture; one that had hung there since before he’d learned to walk. This was the same picture he’d walked by every single day of his life without giving a second thought.Shameful.
Anger steamed and seethed inside Chase’s blood as he stalked toward the picture. Ripping it from the wall, he stared...glared at it. Disgust for himself and his entire family, burned inside of him. Because in the photo staring back at him was his grandfather. Appearing only a few years older than Chase, Joseph stood proud and tall in his finest white robes, surrounded by some of his closest friends. They were all dressed in white. Without their hoods.
Chase closed his eyes and recognized the tormented growl ripping across the room as his own. Bile rose and seared like acid from within his gut to the base of his throat. Images of the reporter he’d witnessed his grandfather shooting, assailed him. The sound of the bullet splitting the man’s skull. So much blood splattering all over the wall. Bloodhe’dhad to help clean up.
Hurling the photo across the room, Chase clutched his head, fighting against the pain as memory after memory bombarded him. His grandfather had laughed alongside Trevor while the Chinese man lay dying on the floor. How many sick things had they done before? Chase had never allowed himself to really go that deep, questioning the violence surrounding his family’s twisted beliefs. But now it was inside his head and wasn’t going anywhere. Just like his love for Larke, whichdefinitelywasn’t going away anytime now or in the future.
Larke.
Her gorgeous round face. Smiling at him, looking at him all the time as if he was someone special.
Lips parted, crying for me to come deep inside her.
His body shuddered. Images of his grandfather and Larke collided. If the old man was still alive, would he have tried to hurt her? Laugh while watching the woman Chase loved suffer at his hands?
“No,” he shouted then lowered his voice, whispering to himself. “I wouldn’t have let him hurt her.” He would’ve killed Joseph Butler himself before allowing the old racist to put his filthy hands on Larke.
Sickened, Chase jumped in his pickup and drove the short distance to Trevor’s house. He knocked despite having a key, simply because he didn’t want the nurse to freak out, assuming someone was breaking in. The young redheaded woman opened the door and greeted him. “Mr. Douglas is inside his room resting, should I let him know you’re here?”
“I can see myself in.” Chase bypassed the nurse and entered Trevor’s room.
His stepfather, ill as he was didn’t bother attempting to sit up. His jaundiced gaze connected with Chase as a bout of coughing racked his frail body. “That bitch out there won’t give me my cigarettes,” Trevor croaked. “Can you believe that?”
Chase pulled up a chair at his bedside. “I believe it. She’s doing her job. I don’t know why you like that shit so much. It’s what got you here.”
Trevor rolled his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. “Keep the goddamn lecture to yourself, boy. What do you want anyway?”
“To talk.”
“Do I look like I’m up for a chat?” He scowled as if Chase had lost his damn mind. He hadn’t. Had finally found it.
Chase leaned forward, pitying the man lying on the bed. His hair was stringy and in patches. His face sullen, eyes almost sunken in. With every breath Chase inhaled, he could smell the musty odor of illness and other things he didn’t even want to think about. “Humor me, Trevor. For the last time. I just wanna ask you something.”
“Ask your fucking question,” Trevor wheezed. “Laid up here can hardly catch a damn breath and you wanna have a tea party.”
Ignoring his stepfather grumblings, Chase said, “You and Joe always taught me that it was Jewish people controlling the media. Manipulating people into thinking race mixing is okay. Is that right or is there another explanation, like two people genuinely wanting to be together because they can’t stand to be apart?”
Trevor slanted his head toward Chase, giving him the side-eye. “Jewish people,” he mimicked. “Since when you get so goddamn PC?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Of course it’s Jew brainwashing. Why else you think that shit doesn’t affect us? No TV, no bullshit propaganda.”
“Hmm.” Chase folded his arms, staring straight ahead. “See, Trev, I can’t buy into that kind of reasoning anymore because I’ve finally got a girl.”
Trevor watched him, his brows drawn and his feature taut, as if he sensed a storm. Chase scratched his chin and smiled despite Trevor’s glare. “She’s not like any other girl I know. For starters, she’s black. Also the kindest person I’ve ever met and the cutest girl I know. See, this is also gonna piss you off, but my girl is smarter than everyone in Lee’s Fortress put together. I’m in love. I’m not alone anymore and I can’t seem to give a fuck what you or anyone else has to say about it.”
Trevor’s breathing grew harsh, a low wheeze thrumming into the now silent room. His eyes remained wide with a look of pure hatred directed at Chase. His lips were drawn into a tight line with bits of froth foaming around the corner. A long moment passed until Trevor opened his mouth, slowly as if it caused him great physical pain to do so. More than before. “Fucking traitor. Joe should’ve…” He wheezed again. “Shot. Your ass. Long…” Cough. “Time ago.”
Chase stood, unaffected by what he heard. “Too late for that.” He brought his hands together. “Anyway, since we both hate small talks, I’m heading on out of here. That was all I came for. Oh and to let you know, I’m tired of hating people for reasons that don’t make sense. I’m done.”
