“Do you think about sleeping with him?”
Outrage bubbled in her belly and her face grew hot. “Devon. Stop.”
Devon began pacing the room, stopping only to grab a half-empty bottle of rum from out of his liquor cabinet. He took a swig straight from the bottle and Chelsie grimaced. “I’m not sure why you’re surprised by those questions,” he said, screwing the cap back on and dangling the bottle at his side.
Chelsie’s jaw tensed. “I’m surprised you would think that of me,” she told him. She stood firmly in place and only followed him with her eyes.
He gave her an incredulous look. “Really? After all your lies? After all the late nights and cuddle fests you two have had? The entire world thinks you’re fucking each other, and you’re shocked the thought has crossed my mind, too?”
“The world doesn’t know me! You know me. I would never cheat on you. Noah is my friend. That’s all,” Chelsie argued.
Devon let out a dry chuckle. “No. I thought I knew you.”
His words stung, but he wasn’t wrong. Chelsie had downplayed her life and had omitted character defining details about her past. She was prone to cowering and concealing, always afraid of what Ian might think or do. Chelsie had progressed over the years, but old habits die hard when you’re programmed to constantly be afraid.
Devon was right. He didn’t truly know her. Not like Noah did.
She was being unfair.
Chelsie’s shoulders slumped and her body lost the tension it had been holding onto in defense. She let her anger dissipate. It was time to apologize.
“Devon, I am so sorry. You’re right. I made a bad call and you have every reason to hate me.”
Devon stopped pacing and tapped the bottle of Bacardi against his thigh. “I don’t hate you.”
She couldn’t help the tears that filled her eyes. She wanted to claw at them. She hated being so vulnerable in front of Devon. “I didn’t mean to tell him,” she said. Chelsie flinched when her voice cracked. “It was the night we all went out for the first time. The night he got me drunk and had to take care of me.”
Devon wasn’t looking at her. Maybe if he just looked her in the eyes, he would see how much she cared – how much she was breaking inside.
“I don’t even remember telling him, Devon,” she continued. “I was drunk, and I guess it just came out. He stopped by my apartment the next day to tell me what I’d said. I would never willingly tell him something like that. Especially over you.”
Devon looked at her. Finally.
“Why didn’t you just tell me he knew? I asked you and you lied. I’m just… I’m having a hard time getting over this,” Devon said as he took another swig of the liquor. He set the bottle down on the coffee table and sat down on the loveseat across from where Chelsie was standing.
Her bottom lip quivered. She bit down hard, almost enough to draw blood. “I screwed up. I was so afraid of losing you,” she said. “I spent years of my life having to monitor every word that came out of my mouth because there might be consequences. This is my first relationship since Ian and… I’m still trying to figure everything out.”
Devon’s face was resting in his hands, his elbows on his knees. He sat up right, shaking his head. He looked so… dejected. “That guy had it out for me, you know.”
Chelsie looked up. She had been entranced by the chipped nail polish on her forefinger. “Who?”
“Your ex. That asshole was out for blood.”
Ian. It always came back to Ian.
“God, I’m sorry. I hate that he’s back. I hate that he’s trying to work his way back into my life. The things he’s capable of…” Her voice trailed off, the memories rushing back. The pain felt raw; the fear palpable. Her trauma felt like it was yesterday. She could almost smell him in the air. His woodsy cologne. His chewing gum. His peppermint shampoo.
“You need to go to the police,” Devon told her.
Chelsie shook her head adamantly. She wished people would stop saying that. “No. They are useless. Trust me.”
“You can get a restraining order,” he said.
“It’s a piece of paper, Devon. If he wants me, he’ll take me.”
Her words sent a chill down her own spine. Chelsie began to pace the room, her hands running through her unwashed hair.
Devon finally stood. His balance was unsteady. The alcohol must have started taking effect. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said.
Chelsie stopped and lowered her arms with a sigh. “I know,” she replied.
Devon moved towards her and bumped into the coffee table along the way. He pulled her into a firm embrace, resting his chin on top of her head.
Chelsie let her worries escape her. She pulled him closer and nuzzled her cheek against his chest. “Are we okay?” she mumbled into his t-shirt.
Devon was silent. He never did reply to her. He held her for a while longer, and then they made love as if nothing had happened.
Chelsie was restless that night. She felt cold despite the warm blanket and Devon’s body heat pressed against her back. She kept hearing noises, so she would create elaborate stories in her mind of Ian breaking into the condo and shooting Devon in the face, then raping her until she went numb. The noises were nothing but a whoosh of wind or a creak in the mattress, but her vivid tales played out until she fell into an uneasy sleep where Ian continued to haunt her.
When she woke, she was still so cold.
14 Chapter Fourteen
It had been a long time since they had been out together, just the three of them.
Chelsie, Julia and Lisa sat in a corner booth, sipping on martinis and shoveling sushi into their mouths. It was Friday night and the boys were at practice. It had been two days since Chelsie’s reconciliation with Devon, and while things were marginally tense, they were getting back into their old routine.
“I can’t believe you quit the Pit,” Julia mused, dipping a tuna roll into her soy sauce. “I wish I was there to see that asshole’s face. You probably put him into cardiac arrest.”
Chelsie puckered her lips together and sipped on her lemon drop martini. “I didn’t stick around to find out. I took off my nametag and bolted.”
Her run-in with Miles flashed through Chelsie’s mind as her gaze shifted to Lisa. Chelsie hadn’t said anything about the suspicious meeting – not yet. She wasn’t even sure what to say.
“I’m going to miss you,” Lisa said.
Chelsie studied her friend’s pretty features. Freckles stippled her cheeks as if someone had shaken a paint brush, and the droplets had landed across her face. “I’m going to miss you, too. You guys are the only thing I’ll miss about that place.”
“How are things with Devon?” Lisa asked. “I remember it had gotten a little tense at our dinner date.”
Chelsie realized her friends knew nothing about the altercation with Ian. She had meant to tell Lisa during their coffee meeting, but she hadn’t wanted to spoil the mood. They had been having so much fun catching up on life.
Chelsie cleared her throat and chugged the rest of her martini. The vodka had settled at the bottom of the glass and she shuddered as it slid down her throat. “Guys, there’s something you should know.”
Her two friends looked up from their plates. Lisa wrinkled her brow in concern. “Everything okay?”
“Um… no, actually. Not really.” Chelsie’s voice faltered, but she pushed through. “Lisa, you remember Ian, right?”
Lisa’s eyes widened. “Of course.”
Julia cockled her nose in confusion. “Kind of out of the loop here,” she said, raising a hand in the air. “Was that your jerk of an ex?”
“Yeah,” Chelsie continued. “He was more than just a jerk. It was an abusive relationship and he was put in jail for a few years.” She decided to leave out the gory details. “And… well, he’s back.”
Both Lisa and Julia fell silent and Lisa dropped her chopsticks with a ‘clank’ against her plate.
Chelsie rus
hed to continue before they spoke. “I think he’s still obsessed with me. I got a birthday card from him, and then he showed up at a bar with the guys last week. He was looking to fight Devon, but Noah beat him up and got arrested.”
The silence from the rest of the table was deafening.
“Can I get you ladies anything? Another cocktail, perhaps?”
A lanky waiter stood at their booth with a cheesy smile on his face.
“No, thank you. I think we’re okay,” Chelsie told him.
Julia piped up. “We are not okay. Send over a round of tequila shots. Make mine a double.”
“Certainly,” the man nodded.
“Chelsie, why didn’t you tell me about this at coffee?” Lisa asked. Tears were coating her copper eyes. “This is a big deal.”
“And how come you didn’t tell me about this, like, at all?” Julia added.
Chelsie swallowed back her guilt. “Julia, I didn’t even tell Devon. And now he hates me for it.” She glanced at her other friend. “Lis, I was going to tell you, but we were having so much fun. I just want to pretend this isn’t happening. Talking about it gives it life. It makes it all too real.”
“How have we not seen it all over the media?” Julia wondered curiously. “Facebook is my news outlet and I’ve heard zip.”
“Sean has been working overtime trying to keep this under the radar,” Chelsie said. “With the Grammy’s so close, this could ruin them. But I’m sure there’s no keeping quiet forever.”
Lisa was silent as she swished her sushi roll around in a small bowl of soy sauce.
“Your drinks, ladies,” the waiter said, popping over to their booth and passing out the shots.
Julia wasted no time in gulping it down. Chelsie took a small sip and placed it back down with a wince.
“Chels, you need to –”
Chelsie quickly cut Lisa off. “I’m not going to the police.”
“I wasn’t going to say that. I know how the police handled your situation in the past,” Lisa told her. “I was going to say… you need to get a gun to protect yourself.”
Julia sucked a dollop of spicy mayo off her thumb. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? Chelsie wouldn’t even know how to use it.”
Chelsie tilted her head back, staggered. “For your information, I have one. And I’ll use it just fine if I need to.” She knew her friends were angry with her. They were disappointed in her inability to let them in – as Chelsie was so apt at doing with the people she cared about. She had no one to blame but herself.
“Well, I hope to God you never have to use it,” Lisa said as she popped the roll into her mouth.
Julia cleared her throat. “This conversation has gotten way too dark. Let’s talk about sex. Specifically, between me and Noah.”
Chelsie and Lisa stared at her, shocked and repulsed – yet accustomed to her lack of filter.
“What? I know you’ve all been wondering.”
Chelsie pushed her tongue against her teeth. The thought of Julia and Noah together like that made her stomach turn. Adding graphic details would be enough to send her sushi careening back up. Chelsie wasn’t sure what it was about the two of them that gave her a queasy feeling in the pit of her belly – it just did. Noah was a sexy, famous rock star and he had every right to indulge in cheap thrills as he pleased.
She winced. Chelsie had called Noah sexy and Julia cheap in the same thought. She didn’t like where her brain was taking her.
“… and his size… Oh, boy… Let’s just say he was touching parts of me only the Lord Jesus knows about…”
Chelsie popped her head up, catching only bits of Julia’s descriptive narrative. She found herself feeling both nauseated and oddly intrigued. She reached for her shot glass and let the rest of the tequila fall into her mouth, coating her throat in a smoky oak aftertaste.
Nauseated won out.
“And on that note,” Chelsie said as she reached for her purse. “I’m going to head out.”
Lisa took a sip of her dry martini, her fingers lingering on the spine of the glass. “I’m worried about you, Chelsie,” she admitted. “Can the guys get a security detail on you?”
The thought had crossed her mind. Then she thought about how she would feel with a muscle man following her around, day in and day out. She would feel violated.
As violated as you would feel if Ian were to stick a knife in your gut?
“I’ll think about it,” Chelsie said. She left a wad of cash on the table and stood up. “I had fun. Drive safe.”
“Are you okay to drive?” Lisa wondered.
“I took an Uber.”
She hadn’t meant to leave in such a hurry. She hadn’t meant to be rude or abrupt. But she didn’t want to talk about Ian, or about how her life was in imminent danger, or about Julia’s sexcapades with Noah. She didn’t want to talk at all. Chelsie was sick of talking, and apologizing, and justifying everything she did – or didn’t do.
Chelsie was tired.
So tired, in fact, that when she walked through the parking garage and headed towards the elevator, she almost missed the figure looming behind a row of cars. He was far enough away so she couldn’t make out his face, but Chelsie knew. He was wearing a dark hoodie and his hands were stuffed into his pockets. He was staring at her. Chelsie could only describe the feeling as pure, undiluted fear. Not the kind of fear that makes you run in the opposite direction – no, this was the kind that freezes your feet to the earth. The kind that shuts down your muscles and makes your mouth go dry. The kind that makes you wonder if your heart was beating too fast or not beating at all.
Chelsie squeezed her eyes shut. She counted to three. She concentrated on her breathing. If she was breathing, she knew her heart must still be beating.
When her eyes popped back open, the figure had vanished.
Chelsie began to question if she saw anyone at all. Was she paranoid and delusional? Was this a prank? She bent her knees up and down to regain the feeling in her legs, while surveying the parking garage with panic. She saw no one. She heard nothing.
When Chelsie was confident she wouldn’t fall on her face, she took a hesitant step towards the elevator. As the doors closed her in, she pictured Ian’s hands wrenching the doors wide open and tackling her to the ground.
Chelsie approached her unit and pulled out her keys with shaking hands. It took her four tries to fit the key into the keyhole. When she was successfully inside, she slammed the door and turned her back against the cold frame. She slid down the length of it, her bottom hitting the ground hard. Chelsie pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face into her jeans. A wretched sob escaped her lips. The sound was so guttural, she wondered if it had even come from her own mouth.
This was her life now. Chelsie was doomed to live in a shroud of panic, always looking over her shoulder.
Ian had gotten one thing right. He would forever be in control.
***
If Noah Hayes wasn’t already a household name, he sure as hell was now.
The media had gotten ahold of some damning photos of his encounter with Chelsie’s felon of an ex-boyfriend. Sean was livid, his bandmates were mopey, and Chelsie put the blame entirely on her own shoulders.
Noah was indifferent. He didn’t care what the world thought of him, and he didn’t regret beating the crap out of that scumbag. The only thing he regretted was putting the negative attention on the rest of the guys. Noah didn’t give a damn about his reputation, but the music mattered. When their reputation suffered, the music suffered.
Sean was trying to put a positive spin on everything.
“Negative attention is attention. Your names are in people’s mouths. You’re trending on Google. I’ll take it,” Sean had said at their most recent band meeting.
Noah pulled his sunglasses off his eyes and set them on top of his head. He assessed his surroundings before letting Sam out of the car and chasing him toward the playground. It was a rare, quiet Sunday. He wasn’t a Freeze
Frame member. He wasn’t the topic all over Facebook newsfeeds. Today, he was just Sam’s Dad.
“Look at me! I’m swinging so high.”
Noah smiled at his son, watching as he used all his might to push his legs back and forth, gaining more momentum with every effort. “Great job, buddy.”
Noah sat down on a nearby bench, soaking up the sun and the crisp, New York air. Woodchips crunched beneath his sneakers as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but can I get an autograph?”
Noah inhaled sharply and glanced to his left. He hadn’t noticed the soccer mom walking by with a stroller. “Of course,” he said. He scribbled his chicken scratch onto a notebook she had pulled out of her diaper bag.
Just another day in the life of a music celebrity.
“It’s for my cousin,” the woman continued, boldly sitting beside him on the wooden bench. “I don’t even like your music. No offense. But my cousin is a huge fan. She’s even got tickets to see you guys on tour next spring.”
Noah finally looked at the woman – truly noticed her. So many fans came in and out of his life, he couldn’t recall a single face or name. He wasn’t proud of that fact, considering these people paid his bills, but it was necessary for his sanity.
“Your honesty is refreshing,” Noah said.
He handed her back the pen and she smiled up at him. “I’m Beth.”
“Noah,” he replied. It was a stupid response. She already knew that.
Her smile broadened. “Is that your little guy?”
Sam was climbing up the slide the wrong way. “That’s him. That’s my Sam.”
Beth nodded to the stroller by her side. “This is Caden. I can’t wait for him to be old enough to play here. I grew up at this park.”
Noah eyed the small baby in the carriage. He couldn’t have been more than two or three months old. “Enjoy it while you can,” he told her. “They don’t talk back at that age.”
Beth chuckled, and Noah couldn’t help but notice her resemblance to Chelsie. The long, blonde hair, slender physique, and dainty nose that curved slightly upward.
Aria (Duet Series Book 1) Page 16
