The Debt 12 (Club Alpha) (8 page)

When Faith looked upstairs again, she saw
that Monique wasn’t standing on the second floor landing anymore.
 

“Should I check on her?” Faith asked.

Chase went to the window and quickly
glanced outside, seemingly satisfied with what he saw out there.
 
“Yeah.
 
Tell her everything’s going to be
okay.
 
Tell her she’s safe with us.”

Faith wanted to ask him just how safe the
woman could feel knowing that Chase was carrying a loaded gun in the waistband
of his pants, but she kept quiet about it.
 
“I guess I’ll go talk to her.”

“Remind her that we’re going to get her
home to be with her family tomorrow.”

Faith sighed, then climbed the stairs,
went to the guestroom and knocked softly, three times.
 
“Monique, are you in there?” she asked.

There was some rustling from behind the
door.
 
“I’m fine,” Monique said, her
voice muffled.
 
“I just need some
time alone.”

“Are you sure?” Faith asked.
 
“I know what happened a few minutes ago was
pretty scary.
 
Want to talk about
it?”

“Not particularly,” Monique said.

Faith wasn’t sure.
 
She stood by the door for a long moment,
waiting.
 
“Everything’s going to be
okay,” she said.
 
“I promise.”

Now all was quiet.
 
Faith pressed her ear to the door and listened,
but there was no sound from inside.
 
Maybe Monique had crawled into bed.
 
That’s probably what Faith would’ve done had their situations been
reversed.

Except
I could never be in her situation, because Chase would never hurt me or
threaten me in any way.

She wanted to say more, to try and make
things better, but her mouth opened and closed again without uttering a word.

Finally, she walked away and went back
downstairs.

Chase was on the phone, pacing the living
room.
 
“Yeah,” he said.
 
“If you could do this for me it would be
a huge favor.
 
Let me know.”
 
He hung up and tossed his cell phone
onto the couch.

“Who was that?” Faith asked.

Chase glanced at her.
 
“I just called my agent.
 
I’m having him book Monique on a private
jet first thing tomorrow morning.
 
It’ll take her straight to Atlanta.”

“You didn’t have to do that.
 
She said she would book her own flight.”

He stared evenly at Faith.
 
“And you really think she’s booking
flights up there right now?”
 
Chase
chuckled humorlessly.
 
“She’s
completely freaked out.
 
I just
pulled a gun and held it to her fiancé’s head.
 
For all we know, she’s calling the cops
on me.”

“Do you think?”
 
Faith asked, her stomach churning.
 
“I didn’t hear her talking to anyone.
 
But maybe I should go and check on her
again.”

He shrugged.
 
“If I get arrested, I get arrested.
 
He forced his way into my home and I
acted in self-defense,” Chase told her.
 
“I’m not worried about me.
 
I
just want to make sure we get her the hell out of here as soon as possible.”

“This is a mess.”
 
Faith hugged herself again, shivering.

Chase strode quickly to her, wrapping his
muscular arms around her protectively.
 
“You were very brave,” he whispered softly, kissing the top of her head.

“Are you kidding me?
 
I panicked.
 
I was in shock the entire time.”

“You tried to stand up to a big, crazy
football player barreling down on you at full speed,” Chase said,
grinning.
 
“Given your size and
height, I think that qualifies as an act of extreme bravery.”

“Or maybe extreme stupidity,” she said,
looking into his dark eyes.
 

“You’re the furthest thing from stupid,”
he said, caressing her cheek.
 
“In
fact, I think you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

She looked away, blushing, and buried her
face in his chest.
 
Inhaling his
scent, feeling his warm body, she instantly relaxed.
 
“Oh, Chase,” she sighed.
 
“I’m so lucky I have you.”

“No, I’m the lucky one,” he told her,
stroking her hair now as he held her tightly against him.
 
“I’m the lucky one.”

***

It had been a few hours since the
altercation with Velcro, and Chase and Faith were watching television together
on the couch.

He picked up the remote and hit
pause.
 
“Let’s get some takeout for
dinner.”

Faith shrugged.
 
“I’m good with that.
 
Like Chinese or something?”

“Sure,” he said.
 
“I could eat a pound of spare ribs right
about now.”

“What about…you know…” Faith whispered,
nodding up towards the room where Monique had been cloistered ever since the
altercation between Velcro and Chase.

“You want to ask her if she’s hungry?” he
said.

“Not particularly,” Faith replied,
grinning.
 
“But I will.”
 

They’d been sitting on the couch
together, Faith curled up against Chase, his arm around her as Game of Thrones
played on the TV.
 
It was nice to
forget about the reality of their lives for a few minutes and just be together,
watching a silly show that had nothing to do with football.

But life wouldn’t be denied.

Faith got off the couch with a deep sigh,
and made her way up the stairs, dreading having to talk to Monique again.
 
She knew the other woman didn’t want to
be bothered, didn’t want to discuss what had happened.

As she went upstairs, she glanced one
last time at Chase, and he gave her a confident thumb’s up sign.

Easy
for him to be optimistic
,
she thought.
 
I’m the one who has to actually talk to this woman.

Finally, she reached the guest room and
knocked a few times.

“Please go away,” came the petulant,
almost childlike voice from inside the room.

“Honey, I can’t just go away.
 
You’ve been in here for hours.
 
We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk, Faith.
 
I just want to be alone.”

“I know.
 
Let me in for a minute and then I
promise I’ll leave you alone.”

There was a long silence and Faith
thought she might have to just force her way into the room, but finally Monique
opened the door.

She looked as though she’d aged in the
few hours since her abusive fiancé had tried to storm his way into the house.
 
Her hair was messy and sticking up in
various places, her makeup smudged under her eyes, and her lips looked chapped
and raw.

“What do you want to talk about?” Monique
said, blocking the doorway, her gaze hostile.

“I want to talk about how you’re
feeling.
 
What’s going through your
mind?” Faith said.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your
business.”

“Well, you came here to get help—“

“Yes, and instead I got to watch your
boyfriend put a gun to Steve’s head and threaten to blow his brains out.
 
That sure was helpful.”
 

Faith grimaced.
 
“I know that was scary—“

“You don’t know shit,” Monique said.
 

“I know you’re angry.
 
But Chase booked you a private flight to
Atlanta that leaves early tomorrow morning, and we’re going to be getting some
food now.
 
I needed to see if you’re
hungry and to tell you about the flight and all.”

Monique just glared at her.
 
One eyebrow arched dramatically.
 
“I suppose you think I’m being ungrateful,
what with all the help Chase is giving me.”

“I don’t think you’re being anything of
the sort,” Faith said, which was a bit of a lie.
 
She did feel like Monique was taking her
anger out on the wrong person.

Why be mad at the man who stood up on her
behalf, rather than the one who’d beaten her within an inch of her life not
forty-eight hours ago?
 

Chase had been protecting Monique when
he’d drawn that gun on Velcro earlier.
 
And Faith couldn’t say she blamed him for doing it, either.

Monique’s gaze was furious, but
controlled.
 
“What Chase did to
Steve was just as bad as what Steve did to me.”

Faith tried not to let this ridiculous
assertion bother her.
 
She shook her
head.
 
“Except that Steve was trying
to unlawfully enter Chase’s home and force his way into seeing a woman whom
he’s been abusing.
 
All Chase was
did was defend himself, you and me from an attacker.”

The other woman was unmoved.
 
Her expression didn’t change as she
replied.
 
“Using a gun is just as
bad as hitting someone, and you’re making excuses for it.”

Faith felt more defensive.
 
“He was trying to protect us.
 
And I think you know it.”

“Whatever.
 
I’m not hungry.
 
I’ll see you in the morning.”
 
Monique shut the door hard, right in Faith’s
face.

Faith stood there for a second, unable to
believe what had occurred.
 

Did
she really just slam the door in my face?

She blinked, then turned on her heel and
went downstairs.
 
Chase was back to
watching Game of Thrones.
 
“Should I
rewind it?” he asked, holding the controller up.

Faith shook her head slowly.
 
“I can’t focus on the show anymore,
Chase.”

“Uh-oh,” he said, putting the remote down
and turning towards her.
 
“That
doesn’t sound good.
 
I suppose she
wasn’t in the mood for takeout.”

“No, definitely not,” Faith said,
lowering her voice as she walked closer to him.

“What did she say?” he asked, his
expression concerned.

“She was pretty angry with you for doing
what you did to Velcro.”

He sat back and scratched his jaw.
 
“Shit.
 
Well, can’t say I blame her.
 
She watched me jack her man up pretty
hard.”

“Yeah, but you had no choice.”

“If I’d beat the shit out of him, it
would’ve been even worse.
 
I used
the gun instead of putting his head through the wall.”

Faith rolled her eyes as she sat down
close to him and whispered.
 
“She’s
busy being pissed at you and me instead of focusing on how to deal with this
maniac she’s got in her life.”

“It’s not rational,” Chase said.
 
“We just need to be patient for a few
hours.
 
Tomorrow she’ll be on a
plane and then safely back with her family.
 
Maybe that distance will help her to
start thinking clearly.”

Faith nodded, but she wasn’t sure.
 
“Yeah.
 
I probably just need to stop worrying.”

Chase sighed.
 
“What I’m worried about right now is my
grumbling stomach.
 
Let’s order some
takeout and we’ll get extra, just in case she changes her mind about being
hungry.”

As he took out his cell to call the
restaurant, Faith stopped him briefly.
 
She put a hand on his chest, leaned in and kissed his cheek.
 
“You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met,
Chase.”

He laughed.
 
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m serious.
 
You have a great heart and you can’t
make me forget that.”

“There’s a lot of things about me that
you shouldn’t forget,” Chase said.
 
“And they’re not all good things.”

He grabbed the phone and called the
restaurant.
 
Chase watched him
talking and wondered how one man could contain so many contradictions.
 
But somehow, he did.