Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3)
Page 33
Nausea overcame her as bile crept up her throat into her mouth. She was going to vomit. In the depths of her being, she knew Ian was serious—he always was when it came to killing. Swallowing hard, she grasped her throat to force the bile down, and whispered, “You win. I’ll pack.” If Ian killed her, she wouldn’t care, but she could never place Jack and Chas in harm’s way. This wasn’t their fight; it was hers. By acquiescing to Ian, she spared the lives of the two people she loved most in the world.
Before she could take out her suitcase, the security buzzer cut through the tension in the room. Ian crept to the window and looked down. “Answer it. It’s the fucking biker. If you say or do anything stupid, there’ll be a carnage like you can’t imagine. And don’t think he’s going to save you. I’m packing a gun ten times more powerful than he has, and I can guarantee he’ll be down before he can pull out a weapon. Be smart.”
With dread, Addie shuffled into the living room and buzzed Chas in, silently praying Ian wouldn’t kill him. She had to be smart and play along with Ian, even if it meant hurting Chas in order to save his life. Never thinking she’d dread seeing him, Addie hung her head down, waiting for Chas to come to her.
When she opened the door, Chas leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away. A quizzical look crossed his face. “What’s the matter, precious?”
In a tight voice, she said, “I have something to tell you that you’re not going to like, but I hope you’ll understand.”
She stepped aside and let him in. He frowned, and a clenched jaw replaced his smile. “Who the fuck is he?” Chas pointed to Ian, who walked up behind Addie.
“Chas, this is my husband, Ian.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Your husband? What the fuck is he doing in your apartment?” Anger pricked at his skin, and he wanted to bash the smug sonofabitch’s face, grab Addie by the hand, and take off fast and free on his Harley with her pressed against him. “And why in the hell are you in your robe?”
“Yes, her husband,” Ian said with a smile as he extended his hand to Chas. “And this is my favorite robe.”
With flaring nostrils, Chas looked at Addie, and asked, “What the fuck is going on?”
“Nothing. Ian and I have been talking for a while and we decided to give us a try again. We owe it to each other. After all, we’ve already invested some years into our marriage, and—”
Addie was talking, but the words coming out of her sweet, tasty lips weren’t her words. Fire burned around every nerve in his body as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “What the fuck are you talking about? What do you mean? How the fuck do you go from spending nights with me and Jack to giving your marriage a chance with this asshole? What the fuck, Addie?” Chas rubbed his face with his fist. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
Ian grunted behind Addie and Chas saw her put her hand on his thigh as if to calm him. Seeing her touch the piece of shit, who’d made her life hell, made Chas seethe. Why was Addie saying this shit to him, especially after all the weeks they’d spent growing together, fucking each other, and spending time with Jack. What. The. Fuck?
“Chas, I had a nice time with you and Jack, but you knew I was married. It’s true that in the beginning I wasn’t sure, but Ian came for me and I love that he didn’t give up on me. He still loves me, and I owe him this,” she said as she looked everywhere but in Chas’s eyes.
In a low voice, Chas asked, “Do you love him?”
A long silence filled the room then, in a barely audible voice, Addie said, “Yes.”
If she would’ve picked up a switchblade and stabbed him, the pain wouldn’t have been as acute as the one word she uttered. Reeling from her answer, Chas backed up, the doorknob jamming into his back. When Ian put his arm around Addie and pulled her close to him, he lost it.
“Don’t fucking touch my woman!” With lightning speed, Chas’s fist slammed into Ian’s jaw.
“Chas, stop! Don’t do this,” Addie’s plaintive voice laced with fear and sadness stopped Chas from throwing another punch. “Please, just go. I’m sorry I hurt you, I really am. I guess I was just confused. Thank you for sharing your time and your son with me. I’ll never forget our friendship.”
“Friendship? Fuck, we had more than a friendship, and you know it. You fuckin’ told me you loved me. And now you’re telling me you love him? How does that work, Addie, ’cause I gotta admit I don’t get it.” He stared at her as her shoulders slumped and her finger constantly tapped the side of her thigh. “Have you been fucking him, too?”
Horror crossed her face, and she gasped. “No, I’ve only been with you in the last two years. It’s just that I have to give my marriage a try. I owe it to Ian.”
“What about us? Don’t you owe something to us, and to Jack?” He glared at Ian as he slowly rose from the floor, blood gathering in the corner of his mouth.
“I knew Ian before you and Jack,” she said in a voice so low he had to tilt his head toward her mouth to hear her. “Anyway, I’m sure you can find a woman at the clubhouse to warm your bed. We were just having fun, like you told your mom.” Addie glanced quickly at Chas then looked away.
“You know what we had wasn’t causal fucking. You’re the only woman I’ve been with since I saw you at the library. And you do this shit? What the fuck?” Whirling around, he grunted at Ian. “You fuckin’ stay where you are, or I’ll beat the shit outta you.”
Addie ran over to Ian’s side and eased him onto the couch. Chas’s blood boiled as he watched the small intimacy she shared with a man other than him. Fuck!
With a weak smile, she said, “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll come back.”
That was it. The bitch made a fool out of him, and he wasn’t going to stay around begging her to dump the hitman like some sniveling pussy-whipped asshole. If she wanted Ian, she could have him. “I don’t take leftovers. You fucked me over, and that I won’t forget. You both deserve each other. Fuck you!”
As he opened the door, he saw Addie’s pained eyes and Ian wiping the blood from his lip. Emotions welled up in him like a building volcano, and all the tenderness and love they shared played havoc inside him. Frustration and anger collided, making his internal volcano erupt. Pounding his fist on the door, the wood splintered and scraped against his white knuckles. Storming out, he slammed the door, causing it to groan and crack.
Running out of the apartment building, he jumped on his bike and gunned the motor as neighbors peeked out their windows to see what was making all that noise on their quiet street.
Waving his middle finger at Addie as she glimpsed out the window, he yelled, “Fuck you, bitch!” then blasted out into the cold, inky night.
On the ride to the clubhouse, Chas kept hearing Addie’s voice spewing junk about giving her marriage a chance. He couldn’t believe she admitted she loved Ian. Women could be bitches and liars, but Addie was the worst: she’d pretended to care about him and Jack, then stuck the knife in Chas’s gut and twisted away, without giving a damn. Fuck! How could I have been so stupid? I let her in. It’s better not to care and just fuck easy pussy.
As he rounded the curve, the cold wind slapped his face with force. A thread of reason wove through all the anger and hurt coursing through him. Something wasn’t quite right. A few hours before he’d arrived at her apartment, Addie was all excited for Chas to come over and hang out. Then he arrived, and she was ready to go back to Chicago with her husband—a man she’d told him she despised. In Chas’s mind, it didn’t add up, but then most things concerning women didn’t make sense to him. In his experience, they’d say one thing then change their minds as fast as they changed their outfits. Thinking he had cut ties with bitches when he divorced Brianna, he was faced with a pain-in-the-ass situation with Addie, but this time, the hurt was deep. Fuck all bitches.
Chas parked his Harley in the lot and entered the clubhouse. When the prospect placed a shot of Jack in front of Chas, he growled, “Bring me the whole fuckin’ bottle.”
As Chas poured
Chas’s forehead creased, his brows knit, and his black eyes flashed. He gripped the bottle of Jack Daniels and flung it against the white-painted concrete wall behind the bar. Glass splattered, and the brown liquid ran down the walls.
Axe took a long pull from his beer and watched the whiskey trickling down the wall. “Not so good, huh?”
“Yeah, not so fucking good,” Chas said.
* * *
It took Chas three days before he went to Addie’s apartment to return her key and retrieve his. He had half hoped she would’ve called him, but she hadn’t—not one word from her. The prospect had traced Ian to another hotel in Pinewood Springs, but Ian had checked out four days before. Chas’s heart sunk when the prospect updated him, and Chas was pissed that he cared so much.
If only he’d known Ian had come back to town, he’d have taken care of the asshole and no one would’ve been the wiser. But because everything had been quiet after Ian had left several weeks before, Banger didn’t want to use the prospect to keep tailing Addie. Banger and the other club members thought the jerk had given up and gone back to Chicago. Chas also had a false sense of security when time passed and there was no sight or communication from Ian or Snake. The sneaky bastard. Ian knew all along what he was doing, and he executed his plan to perfection.
Chas still couldn’t believe Ian had won Addie over, but he was done trying to figure it out. He didn’t chase after women. If she wanted it over, it was over. Chas would move on and go back to easy pussy without entanglements. It was Jack who was having a hard time. His big eyes searching for Addie each time he entered the library, or asking his dad why she’d left them, cut Chas to the core. The bitch could’ve at least given Jack some warning. She pretended to care about Jack, but in the end, the only one she cared about was herself. Selfish woman.
As he climbed up the steps to her apartment, Chas cursed under his breath. Even though she’d played him, he hoped she was in the apartment so he could see her. Her twinkling green eyes and thick, red mane were beautiful. Chas always marveled at how creamy and soft her skin was under his calloused fingers. After all she’d done, he missed her. How pathetic did that make him? He hated himself for still craving her. Before Chas could erase her from his mind, he needed Addie—without Ian around—to look him straight in the eyes and tell him she was finished with him and had never felt anything for him. If she could tell him that, he’d walk away forever.
Figuring she wouldn’t open the door if he knocked, he used his key. Chas entered the apartment and an eerie silence enveloped him. Darting his eyes around the room, he noticed Addie’s favorite afghan throw—the one her mother had knit for her when she was in college—was missing from the back of her couch. As he walked around the room and headed into the kitchen, it felt as though the life Addie had exuded in her living space had been sucked out.
Chas opened a couple of kitchen cabinets. They were bare. Banging the others open, he sucked in his breath when he saw they were all empty. Dashing into her bedroom, a ball of dread formed in the pit of his stomach. All of the perfumes, hairbrush set, makeup, and jewelry on her vanity were gone. Inside her closet, empty hangers greeted his prying eyes.
Chas went over to the bed—the one he and Addie had shared so many times—sat on the edge of it, and covered his face with his hands. She’s gone. The only woman I ever loved is gone. Fuck it. Deep sorrow grabbed him like a vise, squeezing hard. Fuck her. For a long time, he sat like that until children’s laughter from outside pierced through his veil of hurt and anger. Sighing, he rose to his feet and went over to the small desk by the window. Opening the right-hand drawer, he placed the key inside. As he began to close the drawer, he saw Addie’s black daily journal calendar. Surprised she hadn’t taken it—it was her lifeline—he held it in his hands.
Chas flipped through the pages, and a smile whispered on his lips as he noticed all the color-coded entries. Despite his hurt, seeing all her neat notations comforted him. He’d teased Addie many times about how she was ultra-organized. Turning to the month of September, he saw an entry she made the day they met. Addie wrote, “Met Jack’s dad. Damn, is he hot, but I can’t go there. He’s my student’s dad. Too bad.” Chas flipped through the pages over the past few months: “Happy today. Saw Chas and we made incredible love. I’ve fallen for this man.” There were numerous comments on how much she cared about Jack and what a wonderful child he was. Addie also drew a big heart on one of the days. Under the heart, it said, “Day I fell in love with Chas.”
Chas skimmed the pages until he came to the time when Ian called him, and Addie realized he knew where she was. Chas noticed her writing was fraught with more trepidation, more fear, and gloom. One notation read, “So happy I haven’t heard from Ian anymore. I hope he’s moved on. I know I’ll never go back to Ian. I’d rather go to prison than be with him.”
Reading the entry from four days before, it said, “Going to see Chas tonight, and I’m beyond thrilled.” The whole situation didn’t sit right; Addie with Ian, Addie gone—none of it made sense. Staring at pastel-colored entries in the month, an appointment caught his eye—“Dr. Singleton at 12:30 p.m.” The appointment had been set for the past week. Chas racked his brain, trying to remember if Addie had mentioned she was sick or had a doctor’s appointment. She hadn’t. After dialing the phone number, he waited for someone to pick up.
“Rocky Mountain OB/GYN. May I help you?”
Startled, Chas sputtered, “I… uh… I’m calling about a patient?”
“What’s the patient’s name?”
“Addie O’Leary.”
“Are you authorized to obtain information regarding her?”
“What?”
“We can’t give medical information about a person unless she has authorized you to get it, or if you are a spouse.”
“Yeah, I’m her husband.”
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Chas… uh… Chas O’Leary.” He felt like a fucking fool using her last name, but he had to know if the sinking feeling in his stomach was justified.
“Okay. I’ll put you through to Dr. Singleton’s nurse.”
Before he could say anything, he was placed on hold and Jimmy Buffet was crooning “Margaritaville” to him.
“This is Patty, may I help you?”
“Yeah, uh… this is Addie O’Leary’s husband, and I want to know if I need to bring my wife back in for an appointment.”
“Oh, I thought Dr. Singleton went over this with your wife. No matter. Yes, she’ll have to schedule another appointment in about three weeks. We want to make sure she is tolerating the prenatal vitamins and supplements the doctor prescribed.”
Prenatal? Fuck! “How far along is she?”
Chuckling, the nurse said, “She really was out of it at her appointment, wasn’t she? I remember she was shocked to learn she was pregnant. Your wife is six weeks along.”
Hearing what he’d suspected the moment the receptionist answered the phone rendered him speechless. Addie was pregnant. Was he the father? Making a quick calculation, he figured she got pregnant before Ian showed up in Pinewood Springs. Fuck, I’m the father. When the fuck was she gonna tell me, or was she ever gonna tell me? She’d known about it for a week, and she never brought it up. Her emotional seesawing for the past few weeks began to make sense to Chas.
“Sir, do you have any more questions?”
“Uh… no. Thanks.”
He hung up and sat on the desk chair, staring at the falling snow clinging to the bare trees spattered around the neighborhood. It was a heavy snowfall, and the streets and sidewalks shared the same stark white color. The fucking bitch carried his baby and she hadn’t even told him. How had he been so wrong about her? Addie had betrayed him in the worst way possible—keeping his baby from him. Chas had to find her. If she wanted to stay with her bastard husband that was her business, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let a fucking hitman raise his kid. Chas becoming a father changed everything.
Chapter Thirty-Six
One week later
Sunlight struggled through the dense, gray clouds above as the wind howled and ice-white dust swirled. Addie watched as the snow hugged the pine trees, a glimmer of green among all the white. The snowstorm was beautiful in its intensity, was a contrast to the ugliness she felt whenever she remember Chas’s pained eyes when she’d told him she loved Ian. Each time Ian touched her, her skin crawled, even though it was just a brush of his fingers on her. When she pushed him away, Ian had told her he’d give her some time to get on track with him, but he also warned in his threatening way that he wasn’t going to wait too long to make love to her. The thought of Ian’s hands and lips on the places Chas had touched made her stomach lurch. In her mind, Chas was the only one who could have her body, her heart, and her soul. Addie wasn’t sure how she could keep stalling.
It sickened her to be at her parents’ cabin with Ian—the man who took her family away from her. She hated him, but in order to save Chas and Jack’s life, she had to pretend interest and willingness. Addie was afraid she wasn’t doing a very good job at it. Ian knew her thoughts and heart were back with Chas; it angered him, and his icy rage was what frightened Addie the most.
When the power in the cabin winked out, Addie turned away from the window, her face illuminated by the spitting fire in the fireplace. Ian’s figure appeared, holding a flashlight.
“Lights went out. I’ll see if I can trip them back on. Where’s the fuse box in this damn cabin?”
“In the basement, next to the water heater,” she said, detached.
“I can’t wait to go back to civilization.”
Addie heard the stairs creak as his heavy footsteps descended.
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