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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.”

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.

“Yup.”

She sits up and looks me square in the eyes, her bearing stiff, pissed off, and the tiniest little bit hesitant. “I want to tell you something and I don’t want you to freak out before we discuss this. Okay?”

That sounds really ominous and I’m ashamed to admit that my first instinct is to cover my ears and start lalala-ing to avoid any more mental baggage. But then, that would make me Chase, and I’m still pissed enough to revolt against being anything like that coward.

“Okay. Shoot. Lay it all on me sister.”

Liv rolls her eyes and regards me seriously.

“About a week ago, I was using Gabe’s office computer to do some research for…I kinda was looking into programs to go to cooking school or something,” she admits, giving my hand a squeeze to stop my automatic questions.

Later, Rem. You can grill her later
, I tell myself, though I’m shocked to think that Liv is turning her whole life around. She’s accepted that Gabe loves her and that he’s in it for the long haul. No more carefree footloose Liv. This woman is obviously settling in and making plans to live the life she wants.

And now I’m jealous.

“So you were on the computer…”

“Yeah, and instead of clicking the Google icon, I mistakenly tapped on one of his files. I almost closed it right down and went back to my business, but I saw a name that caught my attention so I started reading.”

I cock a brow at her, letting her know how I feel about that gross invasion of her boyfriend’s privacy and she smiles sheepishly and tilts her head.

“Yeah, I know right? But that name…anyway, I read it all. At first I couldn’t make sense of any of it ‘cause, you know, I’m no business buff, but it started clicking into place for me eventually and then I just knew.”

“Knew what?” I say, practically having to bite my tongue to stop from yelling.

She takes a deep breath and I gird myself.

“I checked all the high school yearbooks online and then…the stuff on Gabe’s computer was a whole bunch of take-over plans. I couldn’t understand the money and numbers stuff but after few searches I found out that every single company that Chase Marshall has acquired in a hostile takeover is a company belonging to a whole bunch of dudes you went to school with. Those who weren’t born with a silver spoon and took over daddy’s company simply ended up filing for bankruptcy and were totally ruined.”

Huh? So maybe my brain is slow or something but I’m not tracking and I tell her so
.

“Don’t you see, Rem? Chase purposefully set out to ruin those men, and what’s more, he’s not stopping at dismantling Brian's campaign. The man is planning to make sure that by the time he’s done with Brian, there won’t be anything left but a washed up ex-jock slinging hash to make a living.”

But-but that makes no sense
. I understand him ruining Brian because, let’s face it, my ex is a douche that deserves to have the world see him for the ass he is. I’m not too proud to admit that having him brought low gives me a thrill of joy.

But the others…

I listen as Liv tells me the names and the lengths Chase has gone to. Slowly it all starts to solidify in my mind and come together. Okay, maybe not together, together, but I now know that he’s suitably ruined half the football team I used to be subjected to when I was Brian's girlfriend.

Those men were not nice boys in school, and what’s more, I don’t think they are nice guys now, give or take a few who could have grown up and become decent human beings. Not likely, but possible.

“He’s planned a vendetta? Why?”

Liv shrugs and sits back with a sigh, her face a study of strain and fatigue. Yeah, she looks about as good as I do now that I’m not wallowing in self-pity and paying attention.

“Dunno, Rem, but for whatever reason, the guy went after a whole bunch of guys from your old school.”

Because he wanted me?

But—

“Oh shit! He saw the photos!” I suddenly yell, springing to my feet and dancing around in a circle.

The dancing is not from joy but horror and total embarrassment.

“Tell me.”

I start pacing and tell her that last little thing that used to kill me but is now so trivial I don’t even think about.

“After that…well, whoever did those things to me also took photos and they uploaded them, Liv. Nudes of me all over the place. My father and mother went nuts and had them removed. Two of the sites even got shut down, but some of it is still out there.”

“Your parents actually cared?”

“No.” I laugh, enjoying that I can find humor in this. “They just didn’t want the family name besmirched or something. Do you think he saw…oh my God! If those are the guys who did the photos…”

“Then they were the ones who attacked you!” Liv yells, springing to her feet with a curse and a look of pure terror in her eyes. “Rem, I think you may have married the guy who did that to you.” She breathes in horror and I feel myself start to crack.

This all makes so much sense and yet…