Lost Hart, page 13
All she did was nod.
He pulled away and immediately went about setting up the pull-out couch. Then he shucked his pants and shirt, remaining in just his boxers, and he climbed into bed, welcoming her with him.
“I need to leave the light on,” he said.
Another thing she wanted to ask about but just didn’t have the energy.
Ditching the fluffy robe and draping it over the back of a chair, she wiped the tears from her cheek and slid into the bed beside him.
He tugged her close, so she was the little spoon.
“Tell me about your childhood,” he murmured, kissing her neck. The heat of Chase’s body and the strength of his arms was a welcome boon of comfort. It didn’t take away the empty hole she felt in her chest, but it soothed the ache just a touch.
She shook her head. “Wasn’t great.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Not your fault.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“Yeah. But they couldn’t give two shits about me. About any of us.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Again, not your fault.”
“Siblings?”
She knew what he was doing, trying to distract her from the spiral of despair she was currently trapped in. It was like when Connor had to get his vaccinations. She let him watch a Paw Patrol episode on her phone to distract him. Chase was trying to do that now. Little did he know, her childhood and her parents weren’t a happy distraction. They were just a long, scarred-over wound that if picked at long enough would open up and bleed.
“Brothers,” she finally said. “My parents divorced when I was five, and both of them—on separate occasions—told me they wanted a son, not a daughter—that I was the reason for their divorce.”
“Holy shit.” His arms around her loosened, and he encouraged her to spin around and face him. She did.
“I was seven when they told me this. They got their sons. Mom remarried and had two boys. Dad remarried a woman with sons and then had another one. I’m not close with any of my brothers.”
The pain in his eyes was tangible. He was close with his brothers, and she knew that it would gut him not to have his family all happy, bright and full of rainbows.
He’d texted her last night to say that he’d reconciled with Rex over beer and hockey and once again apologized for his assumptions and behaving like an ass.
She’d texted him a slew of hearts and said she loved him and was happy that he was back on good terms with his brother.
“Have you tried getting closer with them?” he asked. He cupped her face with his big palm and swept a tear off her cheek, his thumb warm and strong as it brushed back and forth across her heated skin.
She shrugged and sniffled. “Not exactly easy. Dad’s in Lodi; Mom’s in Toronto. Dad moved after the divorce. Mom moved when I was sixteen, didn’t even ask me if I wanted to come with. Just told me that I was an adult and needed to find a place to live to finish out high school.”
“What the fuck?”
All she did was nod and purse her lips. All this had happened ages ago and had only made her into the strong, independent person she was today. Sure, she resented her parents—and her brothers, for that matter—but those wounds had thick, ugly scar tissue over them. She had her own family to take care of and focus on now.
“So what did you do?” he asked, finding her hand beneath the covers with his other hand and linking their fingers together.
“A friend’s family took me in for the last two years, and I paid them rent by working after school and weekends at a restaurant. I put myself through nursing school, too. Parents didn’t pay for a damn thing. Haven’t seen or spoken to either of them in over five years. They have no interest in their daughter or their grandchildren. They have their own new, better families. My brothers are adults now and have nothing to do with me. Want nothing to do with me. I don’t know what my parents said to them to taint them about me, but I can’t spend my energy worrying about it. I know I did nothing wrong.”
“How old were you when they were born?”
She sucked in a deep breath through her nose. “Felix was born when I was ten. That’s my dad’s son, so I’ve never really known him, as I stayed in Edmonton with my mom and only saw my dad a couple of times a year. And Daniel and David were born when I was twelve and fourteen. They were babies when my mom and stepdad moved to Toronto, leaving me in Edmonton to figure things out on my own.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and kept them closed for a long moment before finally opening them again and shaking his head. “I just can’t understand people like that. Your parents abandoned you.”
And so began her abandonment issues.
Then came Ted and his lies and betrayal, and Chase leaving without a word was the cherry on top of that horrible fucking strawberry sundae.
“I don’t even think the fact that Ted left us over a million dollars in his life insurance policy and that the kids and I are financially set would even make my family take interest. I was never what they wanted, and they’ve made that very clear.”
She roughly wiped away a tear that had sprinted down her cheek. Her words were growing more and more strangled, her nose was getting stuffy, and her throat felt tight.
She untangled their fingers and turned back around, resuming their spoon position. As much as she appreciated what Chase was trying to do, it had felt more like a dull saw working back and forth to further open up the hole in her chest.
Talking about her parents and brothers was just another reminder of how alone she and the kids were in the world.
Her entire life and marriage with Ted had been a sham from day one, and then he’d left them with abundant loose ends to clean up.
Even after nearly a year of him being dead, she still found herself shedding tears of hurt and anger when she was alone at night folding laundry or doing the dishes. The kids were asleep in their beds, happy and well-adjusted to their new life. And she was left feeling lost and still scrambling to right her world on its axis once again.
She felt like a dog chasing its tail. Spinning around in circles until she was too dizzy to stay upright and just collapsed to the ground a muddled, teary mess, alone on her kitchen floor, creating a puddle of her tears on the linoleum.
But she couldn’t live on her kitchen floor forever.
She had children who counted on her. Children who needed her.
So after an acceptable amount of time wallowing in self-pity and wondering what kind of horrible things she’d done in past lives to deserve this life now, she picked herself up, dusted herself off and put on the brave mask for her kids.
They needed her to be strong, to be present, to persevere through the darkness and lead them through into the light.
The first time she’d been forced to don the brave mask was when she was five and her parents divorced. It was an ugly separation, and she was used as a pawn between them. They negotiated for her like they did the lake cottage and her father’s boat. And her mother made no effort to hide her disappointment in “ending up” with Stacey and losing out on the ski boat.
Then her world seemed to find its stability again for a few years when it was just her and her mom. Her stepfather wasn’t a mean man, but he certainly made sure she knew that she wasn’t his and never would be. He married her mother; she was just an unfortunate addendum.
Her world fell off into a black hole again when her mom, brothers and stepdad moved to Toronto and didn’t invite her to join them. Her father hadn’t said a word, didn’t invite her to move in with his family and had even tried to get out of paying child support to the family she lived with for those last two years.
The family she’d moved in with had been lovely and welcoming, but she still felt like an outsider. She felt like an interloper at Christmas and other important family gatherings. She was left to take the family photo in front of the Christmas tree or at Great Aunt Stella’s ninetieth birthday party but was never invited to be in the picture.
The moment she turned eighteen, she was out on her own.
Which was how she preferred it.
The world started to make sense again after that. She worked her ass off and put herself through nursing school.
Then it really started to make sense when she met Ted.
He understood her. He made her feel loved and beautiful—unlike anyone ever had. He was complimentary and protective. She thought he genuinely wanted her and only her.
Until the day Freya answered his phone and the world crashed off its axis and shattered into a million pieces.
Chase’s voice sounded distant even though he was right behind her. He kissed her neck and tugged her tighter against him. “I’m sorry your family was so terrible. But you have a new family, and we won’t cast you out. None of you. Not ever.”
Fresh tears sprang into her eyes and she hiccupped in his arms, a shudder stuttering through her.
“I love you, Stacey, and we will find Connor and figure it out.”
She shut her eyes, but the tears continued to fall, dripping into the pillow beneath her head.
“Sleep now. Rest,” he said. “Connor’s going to need his mama to be strong for him. There’s nothing you can do right now.”
To wear the brave mask.
The mask she’d been wearing her whole life, but even more so since her children were born and their father died.
That mask had seen better days, though. She wasn’t sure how much of it was left or how effective it would be.
Her throat was full of razor blades as she tried to swallow. But she kept her eyes closed, nestled into Chase’s warmth and did the best she could to not let the grief and fear consume her.
If they didn’t find her son, this was one black hole she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to escape from.
Chase couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t because of the room or the lighting.
All that was bearable.
It also had nothing to do with the woman curled up into his body, finally asleep.
It was because there was more he could be doing to look for Connor. More he should be doing to look for Connor.
Her even breathing and lax body told him she was finally out, so gently, slowly, he extracted himself from around her and slid out of the pull-out bed.
He stood there for a moment and watched the woman he loved sleep.
He’d never met a stronger person in his fucking life.
She’d been through so much and still, through it all, was raising her children to be good people.
Her parents didn’t deserve her. Her brothers didn’t deserve her.
But Thea and Connor did deserve her. She was a good person. A good woman and a good mother.
She deserved nothing but happiness and calm seas for the rest of her days.
And even though she hadn’t been to prison like he had, or seen the sludge-covered bottom of the barrel scrapings of humanity, she still had a lot of trauma in her life.
Her trauma was different than his, but it was no less gut-wrenching. It still had the capacity to fuck a person up.
And he knew better than most how trauma could fuck you up. Even if you tried not to let it, it usually found a way to do it anyway.
One final glance had his conviction only growing more deep-seated and his anger hotter, so he sat down at his computer again.
Brock was in charge of making contact with the police departments in Washington, while Krista took care of the Canadian ones. AMBER alerts were already out, and now that they had the kidnapper’s faces, those two had been broadcasted everywhere.
Their vehicles had fake plates, so that was a dead end.
But he knew there was still more he could be doing. Still more he should be doing. With a neck crack and a deep breath, he went back onto the dark web. The troglodytes came out at night. They were nocturnal creatures from the deepest, most depraved crevasses of hell, and they did their worst when the rest of the world slept.
He connected again with Impervious and teed up a time to meet. Apparently, the new shipment of dolls was set to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Impervious said Chase—who was using the alias Chimbo—could meet his associates at the Satin Lounge at midnight tomorrow to peruse the “new stock.” Every word, every syllable made Chase gag and had him seeing red. He really needed to get to Impervious though. Taking out his associates would be great, particularly that bitch who had stuck a needle in Stacey’s neck, but in order to kill the monster, you needed to cut off its head.
He only hoped Impervious was the monster’s head.
He finished up his arrangements with Impervious, left his laptop on but turned it away from him so the light wouldn’t bother him, then he opened up all the blinds. Hopefully none of this bothered Stacey. But he couldn’t close the blinds or turn off the light and expect to get any sleep.
He could hear Heath snoring in the other room—his brother had always been able to pass out anywhere at any time. He slid back into the bed next to Stacey, and she stirred, curling back into him without waking up.
He buried his nose in her hair and drew in a deep breath.
During those months he was in Georgia, if he concentrated hard enough and turned on his side, he could still remember the way her hair smelled as they spooned after their one night together. Still remember the way she felt in his arms, the softness of her skin, the gentle swell of her lower belly from having only recently had Thea.
She was perfect then, and she was perfect now.
That first day when he walked back into her home for dinner and sat at the table with Stacey and the kids, the feeling of coming home had never been stronger.
With Stacey, with the kids, he was home.
Chapter 15
With the lights on, the blinds open and Stacey in his arms, Chase was able to get a couple of hours of light sleep. He still heard the comings and goings of the hotel and traffic outside. He heard when Heath got up, used the bathroom and headed down to the hotel fitness center at five o’clock.
But the woman in his arms, who was snuggled up tight against him with her head on his chest, her hair wildly strewn across his shoulders, was fast asleep, so even though he could get up—he wouldn’t. It’d been roughly two thirty when she finally fell asleep—closer to four thirty for him—so he would let her rest. She needed it.
At six thirty, the hotel door clicked and opened again—Heath coming back—which caused Stacey to stir. Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright, panic streaking across her face. “Connor!”
Chase sat up beside her and rested his hand on her back. “What?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, and her bottom lip jutted out and wobbled. “I just … I’d hoped it was all a nightmare and that I’d wake up in my own bed and he’d be down the hall.” She pinched her eyes closed and tossed her face into her hands, her body shaking. “I’d thought it was all just a dream.”
Heath came over to stand beside the pull-out couch. He was all sweaty and wore tape around his hands. He’d probably gone a few rounds with a punching bag, which was what Chase should be doing, too. They often sparred together, but when the anger creeped in, either over a job gone wrong or something else, they hit the bag and they hit the bag hard.
He pulled his shaggy mop free from a manbun—gross—and the damp strands fell to his shoulders. “Not a dream,” he said with sorrow, glancing at Stacey. “But we’ll get him back.” Heath’s face was a hard mask, and when he tipped his midnight-blue gaze to Chase, all Chase saw was the stone-cold killer Chase knew lurked beneath the easy-breezy surfer bum exterior.
Chase would actually go as far as to say that out of all four of them, Heath was the most ruthless—at least when it came to doling out punishments to those who deserved them.
Stacey removed her hands and glanced up at both of them with her sad, red-rimmed eyes. “I feel so helpless. Like I’ve failed him and just continue to fail him because I’m not out there actively looking for him. I’m not knocking on doors, putting up flyers or sitting at the police station giving an endless stream of statements.”
Chase rubbed her back and leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder. “You didn’t fail him. And we’re doing everything we can to get him back.”
“It’s not like he ran away from home and could be just hiding at the playground or under a bridge,” Heath said. “He was abducted. By professionals, no less. We have to go about this the right way, and we are.”
The right way didn’t necessarily mean the legal way, but this was the way they knew, and the way they knew usually got results a hell of a lot faster and cleaner than if the local authorities or feds were sent in.
With more tears spilling down her cheeks, Stacey swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Chase watched her walk away, his own feelings of helplessness tripling in size the farther she got away.
He knew he was doing everything he could, but that still didn’t feel like enough. Particularly not when it came to comforting Stacey.
The bathroom door gently clicked closed, and the sound of muffled sobs echoed out into the suite.
Heath and Chase exchanged looks.
“Need to make the fuckers pay for what they’re doing to Stacey,” Heath said, mopping his face with a white hand towel.
Nodding, Chase double-checked he wasn’t sporting a half chub or anything before tossing his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. He scratched his crotch over his boxers and went rooting around in his duffle bag for his toiletry bag and fresh clothes.
“Ordered room service on my way past the front desk,” Heath said, squirting water from his water bottle into his open mouth.
“Not hungry,” Chase grunted.
Chase sensed his brother moving closer toward him, and Heath’s big frame created a shadow over where Chase was rummaging around in his duffle bag. “You think we got a chance at getting him back?” Heath asked.
Blinking slowly, he lifted his head to face his brother. Real worry and fear stared back at him. “We fucking have to,” he said. They fucking had to, otherwise he would never be able to look Stacey in the eyes again. Fuck, he wouldn’t be able to look his family in the eyes again if he didn’t get Connor back.
