Body (Trinity Trilogy Book 1)

by Audrey Carlan

  “Don’t worry about seeing “the Bitch” this weekend,” Kat says. “Remember, I’m going to be there with Carson. I’ll have your back,” she reminds me. Thank God! I can’t imagine going to that event knowing my doppelganger, the woman that came before me is going to be there in all her beautiful glory. I just wish I knew what happened between them. If I did, it might help me believe that there really isn’t anything between them now.

  “That’s true. Now I just have to find the most incredible dress. Something that will put “the Bitch” to shame.”

  “Oh, hell yeah.” Bree high fives me. “Your body has been looking bangin’.” She scopes out my form and nods her head in approval.

  “It’s from all the banging she’s been doing with Chase,” Kat teases and giggles.

  I throw my napkin at her. “Shut up, like you haven’t been with Carson every night since I set you up!”

  “We need the details,” Maria demands then cracks her neck from side to side. She looks tired, worn out. The show she’s in has been kicking her butt good, although she’ll never complain.

  “Well, we’ve been having fun together.” Her face turns red. “A lot of fun together. The man is a stallion in the bedroom. He does things to me that I…” She fans her face. “Let’s just say that he is quite the multi-tasker. Always knows what to do with his hands while other parts of his body are busy!” She blushes crimson.

  “Fantástico,” Maria responds. Talking about sex has always put Maria in a good mood. Our little nympho.

  “What about you, Bree?” Kat asks. “How’s sexy, Phil?”

  I wait patiently for a reply. I don’t really want to know the details about Bree and Phillip’s sex life but in order to be a good friend, I’m going to have to suck it up and just deal with the icky. It’s the same thing as finding out your brother is dating your best friend. Probably not the right analogy seeing as I lost my virginity to Phillip. I banish the disgusting place my mind has gone and force myself to pay attention.

  “We haven’t really.” Bree stops as three wide eyed women stare at her in shock. “We’re taking things slowly,” she offers.

  “You haven’t had sex with him?” spills from my mouth in a gush of words.

  She looks around. “Shh. Jeez, Louise, do you think they heard you in France?” she chastises me then bites her lip and spins a curl of hair around her finger. Oh no, she’s embarrassed. Nervous rather. “We’ve done everything else!” She finally says in defense.

  “Is his pene roto?” Ria says truly concerned.

  “NO! His penis is not broken, Ria! We’re just taking our time,” Bree explains. “We’ve had very little alone time. I’ve been crazy busy at the studio and on the days that I’m available he has Anabelle. He doesn’t want to have sex with her in the house, okay!” She crosses her arms and blows a puff of air out over her bangs.

  “Oh, honey, he needs to have her grandparents watch her for the weekend so you two can have some much needed alone time together. I’ll suggest it to him.” The rest of the girls nod in agreement. “Your birthday is in a couple weeks. That would be an excellent time,” I offer sympathetically. “Also, us girls can trade off some nights here and there to give the two of you some alone time. Okay?”

  Kat and Maria both nod their heads and agree to babysit. We all adore Anabelle. She truly is an angel child.

  “Thanks guys, I’d really like that.” She looks at her watch. “Shit! I have a class in fifteen minutes. Gotta run!” She jumps up and hugs each of us in turn. “Besos!” she says as she leaves.

  Three rounds of “Besos!” call back to her. We each finish up our coffee and head off to meet with our men. I have to buy an amazing dress and then stop at the apartment and pick up some clothes for the weekend before meeting up with Chase. I’m dreading seeing “the Bitch” again but plan to blow her and Chase away with my outfit.

  My cellphone pings and I look down, realizing it’s the unknown prankster again.

  To: Gillian Callahan

  From: Unknown

  Never forget who you belong to. I won’t wait much longer.

  What does that even mean? Chase knows I belong to him. He’s insanely possessive, but I can’t imagine Chase would send weird messages to me though he can be unconventional at times. Regardless I close the phone and head off on my mission. I don’t have time for cryptic messages from strange people.

  ***

  I stumble into the house holding the new dress I spent a fortune on. Chase didn’t lie about putting money into my account. When I went to the ATM for some quick cash, the receipt showed that the crazy sneak put a hundred thousand dollars in my bank account. I almost threw up at the thought of that much money. My car isn’t even worth ten thousand dollars, and a hundred thousand is more money than I make in a year. True to his word he’d paid off all my credit cards. So with all this newfound money I went straight to Gucci and bought a $5000 dress and a $700 pair of shoes to match. Chase will be ecstatic that I finally splurged, but the thought of spending that much money on one outfit makes me want to hurl. The end result will be worth the spend I keep reminding myself. I have to please not only Chase, but his mother, family and now put “The Bitch” to shame. She’s not the only redhead that can turn a few heads. I’m stacked and tonight, everyone’s going to know it, especially my man.

  Since our return from New York I’ve only spent one evening with Chase. The girls and I devised a plan to make him miss me. The idea was to put a little space between us. I want him crazy with desire for me by the time the party rolls around.

  Over the past week I made every excuse in the book to get out of spending every night with him. We came home on Sunday evening from NYC and by Tuesday, he insisted I stay the night with him. It was lovely. We had dinner on the rooftop garden and made love a couple times, squashing any strangeness lingering from New York and meeting my twin.

  After that, I made certain that the girls needed me for random things so I couldn’t be available to stay with him. Chase was not pleased. The first two days he became downright indignant. I had to be careful, because I didn’t want my ruse to make him resent my soul sisters. That’s the last thing I needed. Instead, I promised him it would be worth the wait and to trust me. Using the “trust” word goes a long way between us.

  I set the bags on the table and Maria comes into the living room dressed in a towel, another towel wrapped around her hair. She looks like a Goddess. The damn woman could be a swimsuit model with all her mocha skin, long hair and dancer’s body. I love her and hate her at the same time.

  “Hey, Bonita, some flowers arrived for you when I got home.” She gestures to the kitchen table. “Looks like operation miss me is working.” She shimmies her hips and points to the table. Two dozen red, long stemmed roses stand proud and happy. I look at the flowers and cringe but force a smile. I hate roses, but it’s the thought that counts.

  Keep saying that to yourself Gigi and eventually you’ll believe it.

  It’s the thought that counts.

  I pick up the phone and dial Chase’s number while I finger the card. His “Hello Sweet Cheeks,” melts my heart. Looks like he’s got a new one to test.

  “Thank you for the flowers.” I smile into the receiver.

  “What flowers?” he asks with a confused tone.

  “The two dozen red roses that arrived while I was out today,” I respond flipping over the card.

  “I’d love to take credit for sending you flowers, Baby, but I wouldn’t have sent roses. I know you prefer daisies over any flower.” I smile at the thought that he knows my favorite flower. “Who are they from?” His voice holds a twinge of jealousy.

  “I don’t know. Let me see.” I feel uncertain that it wasn’t him who sent them. I open the card and read it. As I stand there struck, the card drops to the table, slowly making it’s decent like a leaf falling off a tree in late October. The hair on my neck stands up and my belly turns sour. “Gillian, who are they from?” Chase asks in my ear but I stare at
the card, not saying anything. “Gillian? What’s going on?” he yells but I can’t really hear him. It’s as if my ears have been hit with a burst of air so hard that everything around me sounds as if it’s coming from a super loud bass drum.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Um, uh,” I stammer.

  Chase’s voice filters through the noise in my head. “Baby, read the card to me…now.” His tone is forceful and clipped. When Chase gets mad, he becomes extremely direct and snappy.

  “Gillian,

  You don’t belong to him. You belong to me. I will have you. It’s only a matter of time.

  You’re mine…Bitch!

  I read the card to him and chills scream down my spine as fear takes hold. Maria comes and pulls the card from my shaking hand and reads it. Her spine stiffens. She yanks the phone from my other hand. I can hear Chase’s outbursts through the phone but am unable to make sense of anything. I stand still, fear envelopes me and stuns me cold. I shiver as I listen to Maria’s conversation with Chase.

  “We’ll see you in twenty minutes. I won’t leave her. I’m calling Tommy now,” she says and hangs up with Chase.

  She walks me over to the couch and sets me down. She pulls the afghan off the back and wraps it around my shoulders. “You okay?” she asks, searching my eyes. I nod. She leaves the room with her phone to her ear. “Tommy, I need you…now!” she says into the phone.

  I don’t hear the rest of her conversation as she enters her bedroom. Realizing I’m all alone in the room, fear takes over. I look around the space, my eyes scanning every surface. Maria returns a few minutes later in yoga pants and an oversized shirt that hangs off one shoulder. A tank top underneath helps cover her large chest. It’s a very Flashdance look. She brushes out her wet hair assessing me and tapping her foot.

  “Tea?” she asks and I nod.

  I watch her move around the kitchen. The fear of the note accompanying those flowers starts to dissipate. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my rattled nerves. Who would send something like that? Justin is the only name that comes to mind. All of a sudden, an incessant banging startles me and I grip my arms around my legs, a deep tremble coats my form as I pull my legs up into my chest and cling to my calves in a protective ball.

  Maria rushes to the door and I hear Chase. “Where is she?” he says, panicked. He practically runs into the room, and I jump up the moment I see him. His arms go around me in a tight embrace, and I rub my cheek against his solid chest. He cups my neck and holds me to him tightly. Behind him I hear Jack and Maria speaking. She shows him the flowers and the note. He takes pictures of both, and I squeeze Chase tighter. Another knock on the door has me trembling once more.

  “Baby, you’re shivering,” he says and leads me back to the couch. I crawl into his lap like a child. He doesn’t seem to mind, just holds me tightly, pets my hair and caresses my back in long soothing swipes.

  Tom comes in with a police officer in uniform. I grip Chase’s arms tightly. Seeing a police officer in my home reminds me of times I’d prefer to forget. Too many times a policeman or woman took my statement after I’d endured one of Justin’s beatings and the neighbors called the cops. I cringe at the memory and try to find the strength I need to get through this.

  Everything happens so quickly I just go through the motions. The officer takes my statement; the card is put in plastic and taken for evidence. Even though the situation isn’t dire, Tom being a long time well-known and respected detective and Chase being personal friends with the Chief of Police means they aren’t taking any chances.

  “Did the suspect ever contact you prior to this?” the officer asks and I shake my head.

  “No,” I say, then stop for a moment. The weird text messages come to mind.

  “What is it, Baby?” Chase notices the change in my demeanor.

  “Um, maybe. Chase, can you grab my phone?” His eyebrows furrow and his jaw sets in a grim line. He pulls my phone out of my purse and hands it to me. My hands shake but I manage to bring up the texts. Chase grabs the phone before I can hand them to the officer and scans each one quickly.

  “Fuck, Gillian. There are three and they start back over a week ago!” he says with contempt. “Why didn’t you tell me about them?” He shakes his head, holding his hand into a tight fist. He hands the phone to the officer. He reads them, taking notes.

  “I didn’t think they were a big deal. And I…” I swallow the lump in my throat, realizing that not mentioning them was a bad idea. “I thought they were a wrong number and forgot about them until the flowers and the one I received today. I was…I was busy. I just ignored them.” I feel like a complete idiot now. Could Chase have done something sooner? It’s obvious this person has a crush on me. A secret admirer perhaps? Unless it’s Justin, and, if that’s the case, there’s not much anyone can do. He will find me, and, if he does, he may do worse than beat me up. He’s the only man besides Chase that has ever used the words “Mine” in reference to me.

  “I’m going to keep this phone. See if we can trace the texts,” the officer says. “Maybe we’ll get a hit but it’s likely that the perpetrator used a phone you can buy at any department store for thirty bucks and toss it after.” I nod.

  “Don’t worry about your phone. I’ll have a new phone delivered to the Penthouse tomorrow. One that has a tracking device and a new phone number.” Chase adds.

  “Thank you,” I say quietly, not choosing to mention anything about the additional security. If it is Justin, I’ll need the extra security. “Are we done? I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

  “Not here you’re not. Neither of you are staying here,” Chase gestures at Maria and I. Maria balks and protests but Tom stops her cold.

  “You will stay with me,” Tom argues. “At least until this asshole is found.”

  Maria rolls her eyes and stomps into her room complaining in Spanish. I choose not to argue with two over possessive pissed off males. In past experience, the combination can turn volatile. Tom follows Maria into her room, and I head to mine. Once inside I grab the suitcase I emptied a few days ago and plop it on my bed. Chase enters and leans against the wall. His appearance is more disheveled than usual and his hair looks like he’s combed his fingers through it a time too many.

  “How long am I staying with you?” I ask over my shoulder wanting to pack the right amount of clothing.

  “As long as it takes…forever maybe.” He pauses when I look up, trying to gage his sincerity. This is all happening far too quickly for my taste.

  “Chase,” I start but am cut off by his arms around my waist and his chin nestled into the crook of my neck. I clasp my hands over his and lean back into him. I always feel so safe in his arms. But I’m not moving in with him and he has to know that. “I’m not moving in with you because some immature lovesick puppy is choosing to mess with my head.”

  “We’ll see,” he says noncommittally.

  I roll my eyes and turn to face him. I kiss him deeply and he nips at my bottom lip playfully, lightening the heavy mood. I love him more for that.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

  “Gillian, I will always run to you, remember?” He smiles and kisses me softly again. “Now, let’s get your things.”

  He helps me pull together a good week’s worth of clothing. He assures me that anything else will be taken care of. A messenger will pick up our mail each day and deliver it to both Maria and I. Our plants will be watered and the house will be watched. If the perpetrator tries to access the home, Chase’s people will know it.

  ***

  The next few days go by in a blur. Chase has taken over-protective to an all-time high. First thing Friday morning, I’m introduced to my very own personal bodyguard. Austin looks like Sylvester Stallone on steroids. His nose has seen better days and looks as if it’s been broken a few times. His shoulders span a good three feet and he’s over six foot tall. The man couldn’t be a day over thirty but has already served a decade in armed forces. Eve
n though I fought Chase on the concept of personal protection, I do prefer Rambo over the linebacker who hates me. At least Rambo doesn’t look at me with contempt and answers every question I ask with good manners saying, “Yes Ma’am, and No Ma’am.” His Southern drawl surprised me at first but I find the quality endearing.

  “Will you be eating lunch in today, Ma’am?” he asks as we drive to the office.

  “I’ll be meeting my girlfriends, but I’ll take a taxi,” I tell him.

  “No can do, Ma’am. Sorry, against orders.”

  “What orders?” I ask.

  “Mr. Porter and Mr. Davis briefed me on the situation. You tell me what time you need to be somewhere, and I will be ready at reception. I’m not leaving the premises. I will be doing rounds the first few days, checking the area ensuring that people can’t come and go unannounced.”

  The information is mind boggling and annoying. I decide it’s best not to fight it. Hopefully my secret admirer or stalker, as Chase puts it, gets caught quickly. Honestly, the whole thing seems utterly ridiculous. I keep thinking that if it was Justin he would have already shown his cards. He was never a patient man. He took what he wanted when he wanted. Nothing would stand in his way, though a Rambo clone could definitely thwart his attempts.

  “Okay, well, pick me up at 11:45. I’ll be meeting the girls for lunch.” I tell him.

  “A Ms. De La Torre, a Ms. Simmons and a Ms. Bennett,” he reads from a clipboard he set in the passenger seat.

  “Those are the ones,” I say and open the car door.

  He jumps out, comes around and opens it the rest of the way. His eyes scan the area. “Ma’am, please don’t get out of the car until I’ve assessed the location’s safety. I will always open your door, not to mention my Mama would take a switch to my hide if I didn’t open the door for a lady, even if it wasn’t my job.” He smiles. I like my Rambo more and more. He’s sweet, nothing like the stuffy, stuck up, suit wearing, linebacker Jack.

  Austin walks me in and as I’m about to say goodbye, we’re buzzed through the glass doors to my office. My promotion came complete with a small office about half the size of Taye’s but situated right next to his. “I can find my way.” I laugh.