2
There werea few things that Chase was certain of in life. The first being, he was a proud racist and would tell this to anyone without blinking an eye. The second was, at some point he would take over the group his grandfather had started. Antebellum Resistance was becoming one of the biggest neo-Confederate nationalist groups in North Carolina and hopefully in the entire country one day. The second one was merely a forecast for his future. At twenty-four he was still young and had other things to occupy him. Plus, it wasn’t as if his stepfather Trevor planned on stepping down as leader any time soon.
That first certainty in his life, though… That one had Chase’s mind in a twist tonight. More messed up than his mind had been when he’d agreed to collect membership dues from the paranoid owner of the bowling alley, who was in constant fear of someone finding out about the people he associated with. Anyone, except for the idiot clerk who they all knew was too terrified to say anything.
He’d entered the building feeling like a damn fool for playing pick up boy tonight and left feeling worse than a fool. Like a traitor. The worst kind he knew–a race traitor. He’d walked out the door of the bowling alley stunned and in disbelief after realizing the woman, whose throaty and bubbly laughter had caused his brain to blank and made him turn around and stare; was everything hehadn’texpected or liked.
Barely able to listen to the stuttering clerk’s attempt at finding the envelope, Chase had stopped altogether after hearing the sound of a girl laughing. When he’d turned around to see the face and body it belonged to, his stomach had plummeted with disappointment. All he could see was a black girl with long dark braids and her mouth opened. The laughter had died on her thick lips as her dark almond-shaped eyes focused on him, widening like a deer right before his hunting bullet pierced the neck. Come to think of it, she’d looked like that the entire time after he’d cornered her in the parking lot.
Despite her race and his traitorous thoughts, Chase had somehow managed to convince himself it was important to heed the ache in his balls and the twitching of cock that happened the moment he allowed his eyes to wash over her curvy figure, clad in a tight pair of cut-off jeans that hugged her waist and clung to her plump, round ass. His mouth went dry recalling the outline of her large breasts under the silky v-neck shirt she wore. Faced with his body’s immediate reaction to her, he’d still waited for the disgust that was bound to come, simply for allowing himself to give a creature like that a second glance.
When the disgust failed to appear, Chase’s mind went into overdrive imagining what her body looked like under those clothes. Before he’d even heard her name and put two and two together, that this was the same chubby girl he’d nearly died with, he was already formulating a plan to get her alone. Luck was on his side when she’d left her friends and went back into the bowling alley for her sweater.
Chase hoped once he had her alone and got a real good look at her, talked to her after all these years, that he’d come across a flaw–apart from the obvious–that would really churn his warped stomach.
Still waiting.
The moment never came. Larke had no flaws. At least none that he could visibly see—which in a way made him feel pissed but relieved at the same time because helikedbeing aroused for her. Blood pumped through his veins and rushed to his cock, giving him a steel hard erection. It felt so fucking good, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. And that was why he was seated inside his pickup, waiting outside Larke’s apartment building.
Deep inside Chase knew what he was doing was wrong. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he planned to do now that he knew her address. Tonight was the first time he’d trailed a girl home. He was no stalker, had never considered or found the need to do anything like this before. Something about her was screwing with his head and it needed to end. Fast.
A light went on inside an apartment on the second floor. That had to be her place, he thought, shoving down another bout of conscience. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He lived in a free country. If he wanted to sit in his truck outside some darkie girl’s apartment, he could. And if his dick was getting excited again thinking about her, well there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Right?
Earlier, he’d led Larke to believe boredom was his main reason for waylaying her in the parking lot, but in all honesty, the idea wasn’t that hard to believe. What if itwasjust a matter of boredom causing wild irrational thoughts to rampage through his head? It wasn’t that far-fetched that he might be bored from always sleeping with the same type of females. Chase tapped a finger to the steering wheel, picturing the last couple of girls he’d fucked. Hmm. They’d all been slender and thin, much thinner than Larke, who made him think of softness and lush flesh that a man could hold on to while he… No! He shook his head, refusing to allow his thoughts to runthatfar off course.
Body type aside, Chase knew it had nothing to do with his previous one-nighters being alike. It couldn’t because he was only attracted to white girls. At the first sight of Larke tonight, his dick should’ve fallen right back to sleep instead of standing at full mast in hopes of getting her attention. If he really was in the market for a change–someone ‘exotic’–then wouldn’t he have been better off scoping out a female spic? One with enough European blood to overshadow whatever else they were usually mixed with. An Asian chick would also be the better choice than sitting here like a perv alone in his pickup, his mind and body raging for a black chick he barely knew.
I’m going to hell.
Seriously. If he believed hell existed like his mother described during the Bible lessons she’d given him–before she'd run off while he was stuck in the sinkhole–Chase knew he more than likely had a room of torture awaiting him. A real special one for idiots like him.
Grunting his frustration, he gave a fleeting glance toward Larke’s apartment then drove away. He was unsure about his next moveifthere’d be a next move, all things considered. Like her being terrified of him. Chase frowned as his conscience took another unexpected hit. At first, he’d found it amusing, watching Larke squirm while blocking the entrance to her driver’s side door.
Messing with her hadn’t been as fulfilling as it should’ve been, Chase decided. He kept picturing the way her eyes, filled with fear stared at the tattoos on his arms. He’d yelled at her about it too, hadn’t he?
“Probably shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered to himself.
His phone vibrated a second before the trill ringing jarred his thoughts from Larke. Chase welcomed the interruption until he saw the name that popped up on the display. It was Haley, a slim brunette with real pretty green eyes and just enough curves to escape being called boyish. She was also one of the latest girls his stepfather tried to push him onto. Or rather them onto him. Haley had also grown up in the same community as him.
The phone continued to ring, but Chase ignored it. When it finally stopped, he eyed the display with a pang of regret as the light faded. He should’ve answered. If she was calling after nine in the night, he doubted it was his voice she was wanting to hear. Which was fine by him. Haley was the exact medicine he needed to get rid of the traitorous thoughts inside his head and ease the pressure in his balls.
Good thing too, because her place was on the way to his house. The drive from Larke’s apartment to Lee’s Fortress took about thirty minutes. The small township begun by his grandfather was on the outskirt of a larger city and was once occupied by coal miners before the mines were shut out of business. There was nothing charming or nice about the town. The houses, even the newer ones built years ago when AR first started up, were a paint’s peel away from appearing run-down. But for the people who lived and grew up here, it was the only place they were guaranteed interaction with those who looked like them and shared the same beliefs and concerns.
Speaking of… He let out a groan and shook his head at the sight of Trevor standing outside the house Chase had lived in as a kid. Smoke wafted around his stepfather as the older man waved a hand in the air, flagging him down.
Shit. Trevor was the last person he wanted to see or talk to tonight. Because he had no other choice, Chase slowed his truck to a halt. He retrieved the envelope he’d received from the clerk, then walked toward the man who’d helped to raise him. As much as he’d wanted to keep going, pretending he hadn’t seen the slim man with his hair drawn back into a ponytail, Chase knew if Trevor stopped him on his way home, this wasn’t for any stepfather-son talk. He followed behind the leader of Antebellum Resistance, taking a seat across from him on the porch.
“Took your ass long enough to get back,” Trevor drawled, kicking one leg across a small table scattered with ashes and cigarette butts.
Chase shrugged and dropped the envelope on the table, not the least bit offended by his stepfather’s words. Trevor spoke like that to everyone. Even Louise, Chase’s mother, and Trevor’s ex-wife. Chase hadn’t done that. He’d always spoken to his mom with respect. Didn’t stop her one bit from dropping him like hot coal, pushing him completely out of her life.
“You were waiting out here for me all this time?” he asked Trevor, who was reaching into his shirt pocket for a cigarette.
Trevor nodded then leaned his head to the side, his entire body jerking up and down from coughing. Chase looked on with a mixture of disgust and fascination. No matter how often he’d witness Trevor’s hacking cough over the years, the man never failed to keep lighting up and puffing away.
“You want me to get you some water? Medicine?”
