CHAPTER Thirty
I woke up in Chase’s arms. Not exactly the way I had planned my Wednesday going.
His oven of a body was seriously overheating me, add that to the vicelike grip he had on my person, and I was feeling slightly claustrophobic. With one hard tug I fell to the floor. And Chase, of course, fell on top of me.
“What the hell, Trace?” His eyes opened as he braced his body over mine looking from the couch to me in confusion. “You could have at least told me before you tried to kill me!”
“Kill you?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Right, because if the one foot fall wouldn’t have done it, what? Your tiny heart would have burst?”
His eyes narrowed. “Look, I know you’re heart-broken and you’re upset, blah, blah, blah, but do you have to be mean to the guy who helped you when you were having a nervous breakdown in front of the entire student body?”
“Valid point,” I ground out.
He grinned. “Knew you’d see it my way. Now, no attacking. I’m going to get off of you, help you to your feet, and attempt not to stare at your ass as you bend over to grab your bag.”
“Such a gentleman,” I grumbled as I took his hand and he helped me to my feet.
Chase whistled the minute I went to retrieve my bag. “Sorry, Trace. I lied, no wonder Nixon was—”
“Can we just… not talk about him.” I threw my bag over my shoulder and crossed my arms.
Chase nodded and put his hands in the air in surrender. “Good deal. Let me just grab my key card and I’ll walk you to your dorm.”
“You don’t have to do that. You already let me hide out in here for most the morning and—”
“I insist. Besides, it’s kind of my job.”
“Your job?”
“Chase Winter at your service. Get used to it babe, I’m your official body guard.”
“Says who?” I yelled.
“Um, Nixon? Your grandfather? Mo? Just about everyone who loves you…”
“Nixon doesn’t love me.”
Chase sighed. “I refuse to get into that with you right now. Believe what you want, but that boy would flipping cut his own arm off before he let someone harm a hair on your head.”
Tears threatened again. “Sometimes, Chase… it’s the emotional wounds that hurt the most.” I pushed back the anger and sighed. “I’d rather he beat me. Cuts heal, bruises fade — but broken hearts? They carry scars for a lifetime.”
With a heavy sigh Chase stuffed his key card into his pocket and pulled me into his side, kissing my head. “I don’t think any guy can promise not to break your heart. But I do promise that the next jackass that tries it will be on the other end of my fist.”
I nodded.
“Come on, Trace…” His blue eyes danced. “One smile. Give me one smile before we walk the plank.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Please?” Chase jutted out his lower lip.
My pathetic attempt at a smile probably looked more like a grimace, but it was enough for Chase to nod his head in approval and walk me out the door.
Once we stepped outside, I took a soothing breath of fresh air. People were walking around campus and nobody seemed to be the wiser that I was coming out of hiding.
“See?” Chase whispered in my hair. “Smooth sailing.”
He really shouldn’t have said that, because the next few minutes became what I would like to refer to as hell on earth.
People began whispering and pointing, which really wasn’t all that bad, until some girl yelled skank and another guy started to chant whore. Naturally, because boredom promotes stupidity, the rest of the kids joined in until Chase and I were literally walking in beat to the chants.
He squeezed my shoulder, told everyone to F off, which to be honest made me cringe more, and kept a straight face.
Once we reached my dorm, he swiped his card. And that very same she-devil from the bathroom walked out the door.
“Told you.” She smirked. Her eyes fell to Chase. “Nice of you to take over Nixon’s sloppy seconds.”
I tried to pull Chase in after me. I’d had enough skank remarks to last me a lifetime, but he refused to budge.
“Sloppy seconds?” Chase repeated. Uh-oh. I knew that tone of voice. It was the same voice that taunted me on the first day of school. That girl just opened up a box that really should have stayed closed.
Chase released my hand and began to circle her.
Scratch that. The box should be nailed shut and buried so deep it reached the Seventh Circle of Hell.
“Cara…” Chase threw his head back and laughed. “I forgot how entertaining that little mouth of yours was, which is crazy because I could have sworn it was wrapped around Phoenix’s junk last week.”
I was way past blushing.
Cara’s mouth dropped open.
“Aw baby, was that an invitation?” Chase chuckled. “I wonder how your boyfriend would feel about you screwing Phoenix behind his back? Hmm? I wonder what Deacon would do. No, actually…” He snapped his fingers. “I know exactly what he’d do. He’d drop your fat ass and move on to the next skank ready to spread her legs for him. Then again, maybe he likes that you’re easy. Hey, why don’t I call him right now and see if he wants to join us for a threesome? Hell, make that a foursome, since you clearly like what you see. I’ll play.”
Cara’s lower lip began to tremble. I wanted to tell Chase to stop, but I was too horrified by the stuff spewing out of his mouth to say anything.
“Don’t tell him. Please, just…” Cara looked to me for help. I immediately looked to Chase.
“You know what girls like you are worth?” Chase sneered. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You’re a dime a dozen. I won’t call Deacon, because I truly believe he’s your free ride to hell. Your future is clear as day to me. You’ll be his perfect Stepford wife, stand back and smile politely while he screws every prostitute available to a man of his tastes, and you’ll do Phoenix and whoever will give you the time of day on the side.”
Tears streamed down her face.
“Wake up.” Chase was directly in front of her now. “You will never be as good as Tracey. You will never be good enough to freaking lick the pavement where her shoes have been. Now listen and listen very closely.”
She nodded.
“You will never look at her in the eyes again. If I hear that you do. I’ll ruin your perfectly caked up face. If you breathe the same air as Tracey without my permission, I’ll show you what it feels like to suffocate to death, and if you spread anymore rumors about her or the Elect…” He chuckled. “You won’t make it to Christmas break, without at least one of your pretty manicured fingers missing from your hand. Do we understand each other?”
Cara was full on bawling now. She nodded lamely and ran off.
“Have a good day!” Chase called.
Stunned. I just stood there staring as Chase happily sent off a text and began whistling.
“What the—”
“What?” He shrugged. “Hey, let’s go inside. I’m cold.”
“Right.” I numbly followed him into the building and to the elevators where he swiped his card and kept whistling.
I always thought Nixon was the scary one. The one everyone was afraid of.
It’s possible I had underestimated Chase… big time.
We stood in silence. I really didn’t know how to start that particular conversation. You know, the one that starts with… “What the crap just happened?”
Instead I just went with, “So, you can be scary.”
Chase shrugged. “It’s a family thing.”
No crap.
“Great.” I kept eying him. He was as cool as a cucumber. Sure, I wasn’t even involved in that little exchange and I still felt like I was going to throw up. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if I saw Cara on the evening news because she attempted to murder Chase in his sleep.
The elevator doors opened. Chase waited for me to walk by him, then he followed me to my room and glared at any girl who dared to give me the stink eye. No doubt rumors of his run in with Cara would be around campus by dinner.
“Thanks for walking me home.” I opened my door.
Chase followed me inside.
“Um, what are you doing?”
“My job.” He grinned and lay down on my bed. “Now get your homework done so we can watch a movie.”
“We?”
“Yeah. As in you and I? What you have a cow hidden in here somewhere?”
I blinked.
“Holy crap, do you have a cow? That would be awesome.”
“Yeah, Chase. I have a cow under my bed. It’s invisible though so you can’t see it. But sometimes at night it comes out to play. What the hell is wrong with your brain?”
He winked and pulled my vampire novel off my bed stand and began reading. “Homework,” he ordered, sounding bored. “Now.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“Oooh, say it again. Only this time call me daddy while you’re—”
“CHASE!”
Cackling, he licked his lips, blew me a kiss and opened the book again. If he was my permanent bodyguard, I hoped to God that Nixon or Grandpa would figure out what to do with me while I was at school. No way could I handle Chase’s presence day and night.