The Devil Wears Black

by Shen, L. J.

  Poor Chase got dumped.

  Never was quite as hardworking and hungry as Julian.

  They say Amber had to make it official with his brother because he impregnated her while she was still engaged to Chase.

  Maybe Chase didn’t deliver you-know-where.

  Chase might’ve cheated first. She just did what was best for her.

  I forgave Julian when he asked for forgiveness. He was the older brother I looked up to, and I was determined to let it slide and work things out between us. It was Amber I had the issue with. The fickleness of love, of what I thought love was, rubbed me the wrong way. I was infatuated with Amber in the way thirteen-year-old boys were crushing over the biggest pop star in the world. She had the looks and the lust for life, and I had the funds and ability to yank her out of her small town, thrusting her into the glamorous life she’d always dreamed of. After a brush with the four-letter word with Amber, I’d decided I wasn’t a huge fan of letting someone into my life, not when the risk of watching them go was possible. All Amber had needed was the faintest hint that the horse she’d bet on wasn’t going to win, that Julian was going to make it to the CEO finish line before me, and she’d dumped my ass to the curb.

  Dad’s illness was a bitter reminder that love was not on the menu for me.

  Love = pain.

  Pain = suffering.

  Suffering = not today, Satan. Not today.

  I pressed my lips to Madison’s ear. She was staring at the camera, still smiling, but from my vantage point five hundred feet above her (she really was that small), I could see the horror of being stuck here for eternity in her eyes.

  “I want to do very dirty things to you.”

  She quivered, and I smiled, my teeth tracing the shell of her ear.

  “In the shower,” I continued. “You could sit on my shower bench while I eat you out.”

  “God”—she closed her eyes on a soft moan—“that’s so . . . hygienic.”

  We both burst out into spontaneous laughter, making Becky scowl at us. “Too much teeth. Please, let’s keep it regal and classy.”

  I peered into Madison’s face, curious to see what her next step would be.

  “So now when you’re about to become the CEO, is Amber trying to win you back?” Mad asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you care?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Does Julian know that Amber might be after you?”

  Another shrug. “If he does, he doesn’t mind.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Amber was never his endgame. She was collateral in a more elaborate chess game I didn’t know I was playing. What he truly wanted was affirmation that he was better than me. More of a son to Ronan than I am. He wants to become CEO. He wants to be the blackest Black in the clan.”

  “So why did Amber do it? Go with Julian? You’re so much more . . .” Mad trailed off.

  “Fuckable?” I helped her.

  “I was going to say tolerable. But even that sounds generous sometimes. He just seems like a weasel, you know.”

  I said nothing. Becky yelled that it was a wrap, and I let go of Madison, taking a step back like she was made out of fire. But Mad was still stuck in the moment, staring at me with a vulnerable look I couldn’t stand.

  “It just seems unfair that you don’t want to fall in love, get engaged, have kids . . . because your brother-cousin stole your fiancée. Not all women care about money and status.”

  “But you can never be sure.” I smiled grimly. She wanted to continue this line of conversation, but I followed Becky to the reception area, choosing to put an end to it. There was nothing I wanted more than to escape the scrutiny of those green-rimmed hazel eyes. Mad trailed behind me, refusing to drop the subject.

  “That’s all it took? One bad experience with love?”

  “Yup.”

  “That is so cowardly. It’s like hating all carbs because you had a slice of pizza you didn’t like.”

  “I don’t like pizza either,” I said breezily. Technically, it was true. I didn’t like what pizza did to my hard-earned abs and wasn’t planning on eating it anytime soon.

  “The blasphemy!” Madison cried behind me, trying—and failing—to catch up with my footsteps. “So that’s it? You sentenced yourself to a life of loneliness because of that?”

  Had she listened to my story? Did she know many people who’d lost their brides to their siblings?

  “Not loneliness,” I amended. “I have hookups all the time and a great family that I love, aside from my brousin and his wife.”

  “But if you don’t fall in love, the bad guys win,” Madison insisted.

  “Really?” I swiveled, pinning her with a sarcastic look. “Because they sure as fuck don’t look like they’re winning. They seem positively miserable, much to my delight.”

  There was a pause. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said Mad was on the verge of tears. But that couldn’t be true. Why would she give enough fucks?

  “You gonna grow out your hair?” I snapped, changing the subject all of a sudden.

  “I don’t know.” She blinked, taken aback. “Maybe.”

  “I like it short.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “No,” she deadpanned.

  I stalled back in the reception to go over the pictures with Becky just to put some space between me and Madison. When my pulse no longer jackrabbited against my eyelid, I joined Madison outside on the curb. Her back was to me. She looked on edge, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hugging her midriff. I stared at her, not making myself known. She took her phone out of her purse and began texting someone. Pediatric Dude? The thought of her seeing him, flirting with him, after taking engagement pictures with me made me murderous. I stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. “How about we grab a bite?” I asked.

  She twisted around, sucking in a surprised breath like I’d caught her doing things she wasn’t supposed to do. And for the most part, it felt that way too. Not that she owed me jack shit, but ever since this whole fake-engagement thing had started, I hadn’t been seeing other people. It didn’t even make any sense. I just didn’t feel like making the effort with someone brand new, when Mad was right there. I channeled all my energy into getting her back into my bed.

  And I’d barely even kissed her.

  I needed to rectify the situation. Fast.

  “I have some leftovers at home.” She smiled politely. “I don’t want to be wasteful.”

  I frowned. “That sounds a lot like rejection.”

  She sighed, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. “Look, Chase, you’re a nice guy—”

  “No, I’m not,” I said, cutting her off. She faltered.

  “True. But you are a real catch. Not because of your money or status but because you are funny, quick witted, smart, fun, and—yes—look like you’re the product of an orgy consisting of all the Greek gods, Chris Hemsworth, and James Dean.”

  “Thank you for the mental image I cannot bleach from my memory. By the way, which one of them got pregnant?”

  She blinked at me.

  “Which god?”

  “Ah . . . Chris. I think he’d rock the hell out of a baby bump.”

  Silence. People bypassed us on the busy street. I was officially the bastard I hated who blocked pedestrians’ way.

  “Anyway”—she rubbed her temple—“that’s not the point. The point is, you’re a catch, and spending time with you is not a good idea, because I don’t want to catch feelings for you again, okay? So I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be your fake-real girlfriend. Or fiancée. Or anything. Goodbye, Chase.”

  She turned around, walking to the subway. She bumped into a businessman. He cursed. Martyr Maddie apologized.

  “Wait.” I chased her, hand encircling her elbow. It dawned on me that, ironically, even though my name was Chase, I’d never done any chasing. It was always the other way around. Until now.
Until Mad.

  She stopped, spun on her heel, and stared at me warily. Her eyes were so full I thought they were going to overflow with emotion. I couldn’t tell what it was she was full of. Intensity? Pain? Whatever it was, it made me feel like shit.

  “If you care about me,” she said slowly through a ragged breath, “then you will stop pursuing me. Let me live my life. Let me get over you. You confuse and infuriate and delight me. You make me feel all those emotions that I have no business feeling, and I’m desperate to move on. I want to want Ethan. Let one of us find their happiness. Because it is so painfully clear you don’t want to ever find yours.”

  Now there were definitely tears in her eyes. I swallowed hard. For all my loose morals and even looser principles, I didn’t consider myself a top-notch dick. I always made sure women knew where they stood with me (with the exception of Madison, apparently). I never promised anything I wasn’t ready to deliver. And Maddie was obviously not on board with my offer for her. Which meant that now it really was time to let go.

  I took a step back. Then another one, still holding her gaze. The world shrank around her, blurring at the edges like a faded picture.

  Turn the fuck around and start walking, you tool.

  Still, I stood, waiting for her to make the first move. Wondering if she’d change her mind at the last minute.

  “Maybe in another life.” Mad smiled sadly, her eyes shining.

  “Definitely,” I said gruffly.

  She turned around, disappearing into the subway. I stood there for ten minutes, then spun on my heel and stomped three blocks until I found an alleyway full of trash cans and privacy. I slumped against the wall, my forehead to the red bricks, and stood there for a half hour, waiting for my heart to stop galloping.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MADDIE

  The next week crawled, minute by minute. It was exotically hot. Everything in the city looked liquefied. The concrete. The buildings. The people. Kind of like The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dalí, with the melting clocks.

  Tick, tock.

  Tick, tock.

  Had life always felt so hollow?

  I made myself forget about the azaleas. About the bet with Chase. About myself.

  I threw myself into work, sketching everywhere I could. The train to and from work. On the platform. In restaurants. On lunch breaks. Before bed. Work consumed me.

  I sketched and erased and started over and laughed and cried over the DWD design, because it wasn’t just a design; it was my design. And sure, I’d designed many wedding dresses before, but there were always rules, laid out and crystal clear.

  This spring our line is going to focus on sheath dresses.

  This winter is all about ball gowns.

  The lace collection will be mermaid-style.

  This time, there were no rules to abide by. It was just me and the chaos teeming in my mind. It was the endgame. Kate Middleton on her wedding day met Grace Kelly in her carriage met Audrey Hepburn in her signature Balmain gown.

  I tried hard not to think about Chase. I took Daisy out for longer walks, watching her chase Frank. I read the word of the day on Layla’s board dutifully, looking for telltale signs the nagging feeling that I was in the midst of making a terrible mistake was unfounded. I wanted to be there for Chase during this time. To be there for Katie and for Lori and for Clementine.

  I even made a list of words Layla had hung up to try to sew them into a meaning.

  Monday was regret.

  Tuesday was relief.

  Wednesday was chocolate (which, let’s admit it, played a huge role throughout my week as I tried to forget Chase).

  Thursday was coward.

  I decided not to check the board today. I was 70 percent sure Layla was being passive aggressive after I’d told her I’d run away from Chase after the engagement shoot, leaving him standing there, confused by my behavior.

  To push away the Chaseness that’d been filling my brain, I went on two dates with Ethan. I was grateful for the distraction he provided. He was endlessly patient, caring, and full of stories about his work, his patients, and his time volunteering in Africa. On Tuesday, we went to watch a war movie. The night after, he took me to meet his friends at a bar. Finally, tonight, we’d agreed we’d go to a Thai place, then come back to my place for some wine.

  Wine meant sex, and sex wasn’t something I was ready for with Ethan, seeing how Chase occupied every corner of my mind. A part of me wanted to take it minute by minute and just see how it played out. Maybe I would be in the mood. Maybe the wine would loosen me up, and we’d sleep together, and I’d realize that was all I’d really needed—a chance to be intimate with Ethan to feel connected to him.

  Then why do I dread getting back to my apartment with Ethan in tow? Why does it feel like I’m on death row?

  Ethan and I strolled to my building. I told him about my DWD project in detail.

  “There will be a chapel train, and I’m thinking pleated sweetheart bodice that resembles a Victorian corset. Oh, Ethan, it’s going to be so pretty . . . ,” I gushed, noticing him stiffening beside me. I stopped right alongside him, blinking at my stairway.

  It couldn’t be.

  But that was exactly what I’d thought the first evening Chase had been waiting for me on my doorstep, luring me into his fake-engagement plan.

  “I thought . . . ,” Ethan began.

  I shook my head violently. Like there was something inside it I wanted to get rid of. There was. “You thought right. I told him to back off. Let me deal with this.”

  I stomped my way to my door, feeling the anger coiling hotly in the pit of my stomach, blossoming, building up, and climbing up my throat. My entire body was buzzing with wrath. How could he? How could he do this to me again? Hadn’t I made myself clear? I didn’t want to see him. Had gone as far as admitting I had feelings for him just to make him take a step back. Was there anything more humiliating than admitting your unrequited feelings toward someone? That was the basis to every poem, love song, and angsty work of art in the universe.

  How selfish could he be?

  “What in the world do you think you’re doing here?” My voice came out high pitched, dancing on the verge of hysteria. Chase was still sitting on the stairway as I positioned myself above him. “I told you to take a step back. What is wrong with you?” I realized I was baring my teeth when Chase looked up from his phone, startled by my verbal attack. I froze.

  He looked different. Disheveled and exhausted and . . . broken.

  It was the broken part that undid me. I knew that look well. My father had worn it the entire year my mother had been dying. Really dying. It was still permanently inked into the place behind my rib cage. It was the hopeless look of someone whose fate had brought them to their knees.

  My guard dropped. Armor clattering on the pavement at my feet.

  “What happened?” I crouched down to Chase’s eye level, placing my elbows on his knees. My fingers were shaking as they held his jaw and tilted his face up. “Where is he?”

  “Hospital.”

  “Chase.” I wasn’t sure I was breathing. “Why aren’t you with him?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  I saw Ethan standing in my periphery, a lone candle, long and straight and unlit. He took the scene in. It scared me. How much I didn’t care what he thought, what he felt in that moment. Only Chase charted.

  It was the first time I realized being Martyr Maddie was unsustainable, but perhaps being a good friend to those I cared about was something I could swing. I couldn’t protect everyone’s feelings.

  But I would slay dragons for those who found their way into my heart.

  “We need to go see him, okay?” I rubbed my thumbs over Chase’s cheeks. I thought I felt him nod. I took my phone out, scheduling an Uber to take us to the hospital he indicated his dad was in. After I was done, I turned to Ethan. “I’m so sorry.”

 
His head bowed. “I hope he gets better soon.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. Chase was too out of it to notice Ethan. I had to stuff him into the Uber. Wearing a ball cap, a hoodie, and a bored expression, the driver tried to make idle conversation about politics and the state of traffic.

  “Your boyfriend looks trashed,” he said finally. “Too many drinks?” He pinned me with a look through the rearview mirror. “I don’t want no puking in my back seat.”

  “He’s fine,” I clipped.

  “So are you.” The driver grinned.

  “I’m going to smoke your eyes like beef jerky if you as much as look at her that way again,” Chase groaned. It was the first time he’d spoken since we’d gotten in the car.

  “Man, talk about jealousy issues.”

  “We’re having a day,” I snapped, no longer caring about being polite, agreeable Martyr Maddie. “Mind keeping it quiet?”

  “Sure. Sure.”

  “Stop looking at her,” Chase warned again like a wounded animal. “Don’t even breathe in her direction.”

  “You heard him,” I drawled at the driver, breaking out of my sweet shell.

  The driver shook his head. “Jesus.”

  Katie and Lori were already in Ronan’s hospital room, perched on a pastel-blue sofa that had seen better days. The antiseptic smell, bright, unforgiving fluorescent light, and morbid oldness that was glued to the walls made me nauseous. I hadn’t been to a hospital since Mom had died.

  I hugged Lori and Katie as Chase collapsed on a seat next to his unconscious father’s bed. He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose.

  “He had a heart attack.” Lori ran her fingers through Ronan’s thick white hair, frowning down at him. “The doctors said the heart attack itself was minor, but his systems are collapsing one by one. He is stabilized but not out of the woods. Grant is on his way.”

  Chase didn’t react. He wasn’t completely there. I slunk out of the room in search of coffee and some snacks. I thought maybe Chase might wait for me to give them some space before he responded to this piece of news.

  I was punching buttons on a vending machine when Katie appeared next to me, hugging her arms to her chest. She was wearing flannel pajamas and a rich coat over them. It was the first time I realized it was freezing in the hospital.