What He Bargains (What He Wants, Book Nineteen) (111 page)

“I don’t deserve you,” he said. “I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

“I’m not suffering,” she said.

“What about when that guy pulled gun on you?” Chase said. “That wasn’t scary?”

“I’m kind of hoping that was just a one-time thing,” she said, laughing a little. “And after what you did to them, I have a feeling it will be.”

Chase shook his head at her. “I don’t see how you can laugh, Faith.”

“Honey, I’m laughing because this is my life and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He grabbed her wrists and looked into her eyes. “Shit, I was hoping you’d say that.”

And then he was crying too, but just a little.

They fell into each other’s arms, and Faith knew that nobody would ever come close to breaking them apart ever again.

We’re for real. We’ve gone through the fire and we’re going to make it out the other side, no matter what we have to do to get there.

“
D
o
you want to watch the interview?” Faith asked him, as the time approached.

Chase shook his head no, as he lay on the bed flipping through an old magazine. “I’m all set.”

“You’re not even curious how the show came out?” Faith asked.

“I was there. I remember.”

She shrugged. “True. But they’ll have edited it and added some things, I’m sure.”

“We can watch it if you want,” Chase said.

But she didn’t want to force him to do that. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to.”

He went back to flipping through his magazine. Faith felt nervous and jittery and slightly stir crazy. She got off the bed.

Chase glanced up at her. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Just need some fresh air.” Faith exited the room, closing the door behind her. It was dark out and the parking lot was hardly even lit.

It was actually a little spooky. The road that went past the motel was mostly empty of traffic and the sky was dark above her.

She looked up, then side to side. It was quiet but somehow she didn’t feel all that safe. Maybe it was the aftereffects of the Club Alpha thugs attacking them and pointing a gun at her.

Nobody could blame me for being a little jumpy.

She forced herself to take some deep breaths and stay outside of the room longer than she felt comfortable.

Faith thought about Chase and wondered if he was going to be able to hold up under the weight of the world. Everyone was coming down on him now, all at once.

His career and life had gone up in a puff of smoke.

The again, he’d been the one to light the fuse that blew it all to hell.

But still.

How will he cope?

How will we cope?

She didn’t have answers, just questions.

Finally, she went back into the room. Chase was standing up, stretching. “How was the fresh air?” he asked, as she came inside and shut the door, locking it.

“Overrated,” she replied.

He laughed. “Figures.”

“Done your magazine?” she said.

“I’m going to hit the shower,” he said, doing another stretch. “You can read the magazine if you want.”

“Lucky me,” she said, rolling her eyes a little.

He walked toward her and grabbed her around the waist. “You too good for my magazine now?”

“Maybe.” She grinned up at him and then he leaned in and kissed her.

She still got goose bumps every time his lips touched hers.

“Then don’t read it,” he said. “Be that way.” He turned and went into the bathroom.

After a little bit, she heard the water turn on and it occurred to her that the interview had started.

I could watch it while he’s in the shower. Just a few minutes. He’ll never even know.

Faith felt butterflies in her stomach as she realized that she was going to do it. Once the decision had been made, she wanted to act quickly. She went and grabbed the remote and turned the television on.

Then she turned to the channel.

It nearly took her breath away.

Chase was staring at her from the screen. He was handsomer than ever, and she couldn’t believe that this was the same man who was naked in the bathroom a few feet away from her right now.

And nobody but me even knows he’s here.

“I lied about everything,” Chase said, speaking directly to her from the TV.

“But you’re telling the truth now,” Meghan Cowell said from off camera.

“That’s right,” Chase replied.

The scene switched to a clip of Chase holding up a Nationals jersey as the owner of the team clapped nearby.

In voice over, Meghan’s voice narrated. “Chase Winters has had a wild ride since being the number one draft pick, signed by the New England Nationals and widely considered the heir to the throne of a long line of great franchise quarterbacks. But all has not been well since his time in the professional ranks.”

The scene switched to a shot of Chase walking with his head bowed, his eyes downcast. Eerie music played in the background as the narration continued over the scene, with Chase in slow motion, looking beaten and weary.

“After a blazing start to his season, Winters has suffered a series of crushing defeats that have critics proclaiming him another flash in the pan who couldn’t cut it in the big leagues. And with rumored personality clashes between Winters and other players, brewing resentments, and poor performances as the starting QB—it seems that Chase Winters may have finally run out of the luck that brought him to such dizzying heights.”

The shot dissolved back to Chase being interviewed. He looked calm, his hands clasped in front of him, almost too relaxed given what was being discussed.

“Would you say that perhaps you weren’t ready for the pressures of fame and fortune?” Meghan asked him.

His expression registered minor annoyance, but the camera captured it all too well. “My whole life has been pressure, since I was a little kid and I had to take care of my younger brother. Had to stand up and fight bigger kids, even adults, just to survive in the streets of Detroit. This is nothing compared to my life before. If I can survive my childhood, I think I can pretty much survive playing football for millions of dollars.”

The scene switched again, this time to shots of angry fans booing and hissing.

The narration resumed. “Winters sounds confident. But fans’ perceptions of the young and charismatic quarterback are starting to turn ugly as the scandals and controversy surrounding the man grow. And as if that isn’t enough, Chase Winters is unleashing a completely new round of accusations to the mix. It’s a story that Chase swears is true, but so far, no outside corroboration has been found.”

Faith’s heart began beating faster as it switched back to Chase talking about the incident with Velcro Jones and Monique at the hotel. Meghan Cowell asked Chase to walk through what happened, and so Chase did as requested. Detailed, calm, and accurate—Chase told the world exactly what had gone on between the four of them at the hotel that night. The drinking, the party, and then the argument, which seemed to have led to a violent incident in the elevator.

Faith was transfixed all over again as Chase told the story and her own memories of the night’s events came back to her in vivid sound and color.

She leaned forward, her hands clutched the fabric of her shirt until her knuckles turned white.

Chase described Velcro pulling Monique out of the elevator unconscious, and then he was continuing to describe what had happened—

“Hey, what are you doing?” Chase asked as he stood in the bathroom with the door open, steam coming out and entering the rest of the hotel room.

He was wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else.

“Sorry,” Faith said, and instantly turned the TV off.

He stared at her, no expression on his face. “So you watched it anyway.”

“I figured, you were in the shower…” her voice faded as Chase waved her explanation off.

“Whatever,” he said, coming out and dropping the towel, getting into his clothes again.

“Are you mad at me?” she said.

He looked up. “Of course not.”

“I don’t want to upset you. I was just so curious.”

“I already said it’s fine. Seriously.” He continued getting dressed, and seemed genuinely not to care.

But Faith didn’t feel right. “I’m just worried about you,” she said.

“Worried about what?”

“You’re very distant,” she told him. “You seem…I don’t know…a little worn out.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No, of course not. I just want to be here for you.”

“You have been, but you can’t fix it,” Chase said.

“I know.”

“Are you sure you know?” he asked. “Because I keep getting the vibe that you want everything to be okay. And it’s not. This is going to be a rocky ride for awhile.”

Faith nodded. “I understand.”

“Want to walk to the corner and grab some ice cream from the convenience store?” he said. “It’s just a block away, we should be fine.”

Faith smiled. “That sounds lovely. Like a date.”

He laughed. “Sure. A date.”

They went out into the night together, holding hands.

And as they walked and she felt Chase’s powerful, strong presence, she realized it was just as good a date as any other.

All I need is him.

That’s all I need. Remember that.

When they went into the convenience store, the man behind the counter was watching the end of the Vox 60 interview on a small television while chewing on a lollipop stick.

His mouth dropped open as he saw them come inside. “Oh my God,” he said.

“Nope, just two regular people,” Chase replied. “Two people with a hankering for ice cream. You got some?”

“Freezer’s in the back of the store,” the man called out.

“Thanks,” Chase said, and headed back.

Faith followed him. They walked to the freezer and rummaged through the various flavors of ice cream. In the end, they both got peanut butter cup. And then they went to the front and Chase placed the pints on the counter near the register.

The cashier was still staring at them, his eyes as wide as headlights. He rang them up, while Chase’s interview played in the background.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” the cashier said. “Is it really you?”

Chase laughed and glanced at Faith. “I don’t even know how to answer that.”

Chase paid and the man bagged their ice cream, handing the bag across to Chase, along with his change. “Dude, could I at least get a quick selfie with you?”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Chase said. “Not a good time.”

“What about a snapchat, at least, so I can send it to my Dad?”

“Maybe next time,” Chase called back, as they walked out of the store, his hand grabbing Faith’s as the door opened and they went through it.

“But no one’s gonna believe me when I tell them you came in here!” the cashier yelled.

Chase and Faith were both laughing now.

It was less than a block back to the motel, and when Faith happened to turn back and look where they came from, she saw the figure of the cashier, standing on the sidewalk.

“Is he filming us?” she asked.

Chase turned and saw him, but the man darted back into the store. “What an ass,” Chase muttered.

“Everywhere we go, it’s going to be like that now,” Faith said, as they went back into their room.

“Might be time to purchase some disguises,” Chase said, and she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “You know, mustaches. Fake noses. Fake beards. Shit like that,” he continued.

“Maybe plastic surgery too,” she said.

He opened one of the pints and began digging into it with the plastic spoon. “Damn, that’s tasty,” Chase said, as he ate.

Faith grabbed hers and similarly began eating.

They ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor across from each other, smiling and laughing like two teenagers, eating their ice cream and cracking dumb jokes about joining the witness protection program.

“
M
y stomach aches
,” Faith moaned, as she tossed the empty pint to the side and crawled onto the bed.

“That’s what you get for devouring the whole carton,” Chase said.

“You finished yours like ten minutes before me,” she whined.

“Yeah, but I’m also about three times your size.”

“Details,” Faith groaned. She felt a little tired, come to think of it.

There was noise coming from outside, she realized, as she lay there without talking. Voices. Engines. It sounded like a motorcade was going by or something.

“Do you hear that?” Chase asked.

She turned over and looked at him, worried now. “You don’t think Club Alpha is out there—“

“No,” he said, but his expression wasn’t reassuring. “I wish I had my gun,” he muttered.

“Chase, you’re scaring me,” she said, scooting up to a sitting position. Now her stomach ached for an entirely different reason.

He slowly walked to the side of the window and then used his hand to lift the curtain just enough for him to peek through, without exposing himself to being viewed from the outside. “Shit,” he whispered.

“Is it them?” Her stomach twisted nervously.

“It’s the fucking media. They found us. Damn it.” He let the curtain drop.

Faith felt a little relieved, in actuality. The press wasn’t nearly as frightening to her as the goons from Club Alpha. The media wouldn’t kidnap and shoot them.

But Chase seemed to feel quite the opposite. He was pacing the length of the room now.

“We’ll just hide out and eventually they’ll leave,” she said.

He stopped and looked at her. “Do you believe that?”

“No, not really,” she admitted. “But what else can we do?”

He went to the window cautiously, then peered outside once again. “The crowd is growing by the second.”

And she could hear it, too. The voices and sounds from outside were getting louder.

“They don’t know what room we’re in, do they?” she asked.

He continued to peek out the window from an angle, so as to not be seen. Suddenly he stepped away and pressed his back against the wall. “There’s a goddamn paparazzi right outside,” he said. “The guy practically was sticking his camera lens in my face.”