19. Chase

NINETEEN

chase

The woman has only been back in my life for a couple of days, and she's already dug her way under my skin so deep that it makes me act a little crazy.

Between the incredible sex and her stubborn streak a mile wide, I don't know whether to fuck her or fight her.

Because she's right.

She can hold her own, and damned if she doesn't surprise me at every turn.

We're soaked to the bone in our clothes. Thankfully the worst of the storm moved out quickly, but the outer bands are still providing a shit ton of rain and wind.

Eden keeps Stewie calm and distracted while I hook the winch up to his box car as Nate calls it.

And he isn't wrong. It looks like a matchbox car but uglier.

Moments later, the matchbox car is out of harm's way from the angry waves that could have carried it away.

I send him on his way with a stern look and a growl that has him stammering he'll stay away from the beach until the storm is over.

The rain slows down considerably on our way back to the house, but is still coming down sideways as wind gusts blow rain and sand across the road.

"Help me keep an eye out for debris."

"You got it."

I glance over at her as we drive down the road. She's looking out the side window, doing her best to see past the rain that pelts the glass.

Looking back in front of me, I give myself a mental shake to keep my shit together.

Contrary to the rules we set out, I want to spend more time with Eden.

And our time is coming to an end.

The storm is moving out and she'll be gone soon. I'm not ready to watch her leave again, even if I don't mind the view as she walks away.

But every time she leaves, she takes a piece of my heart with her.

A fact that I'm only just admitting to myself.

What's the worst that could happen if I were to do the speaking gig for her?

Yeah, there will be paparazzi, but if she's by my side, I can handle it.

I need to at least try.

"When did you say your speaking gig is in New York?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her head whip around to look at me. I glance over to find her mouth has dropped open slightly.

"Thirteen days, to be exact."

"Has your assistant gotten any new leads?"

Her shoulders slump, and she shakes her head. "No. And she's pretty resourceful, but no, nothing solid."

I tap my finger on the steering wheel as we ride down the nearly empty two-lane road.

Uneasiness still pushes in my chest, but the desire to be with Eden for a while longer is crowding that out.

"How much press will be there?"

Eden rolls her lips inward before answering. "Given the guest list and who the hosts are, I expect there to be a good bit of press. But they're restricted to the outside. There will be absolutely none inside."

"And you have security set up?"

"There will be a lot of high rollers there that night. Several big names from the business world, as well as a few celebrities. I've hired one of the top security firms around. Hudson was insistent on it."

"Yeah, he's a private guy."

She shifts slightly in her seat to face me. "Chase, I promise you, if you do this, I'll do whatever you need to feel comfortable being there. I promise I'll take care of you."

Pausing, she looks down before raising her eyes back to me. "But if the answer is still no, I truly understand."

I glance over at her and hold her gaze for a moment before looking back to the road. "I know you do. I appreciate it. If I consider it, when do you need my final answer?"

She sits up a little straighter, opening her mouth like she's going to say something, then shakes her head.

"Well, the sooner the better because I have some marketing materials I need to finalize. But I have a backup plan for that. The biggest thing is I need to let the guys know first."

I stop at a four-way stop and look over at her. "Give me 'til tomorrow?"

A small smile plays on her lips as she shifts back in her seat. "Absolutely."

We both know I'm halfway gone to saying yes.

But I need time to prepare myself for the inevitable questions I'll get, but that isn't the worst part .

It's the ramifications after the event that I worry about the most.

Will they dig up the old article with my father and call me a killer again?

Will they find out about Eden and pry into her life as well?

I don't know how they didn't dig up our past last time, and I can't guarantee they'll leave her alone this time.

And that doesn't sit well with me.

With a sigh, I check the crossroads and find it all clear.

But just as I put my foot on the gas, I notice something white moving fast toward the passenger side of the truck.

Eden reaches over and lays a hand on my forearm. "You know, I was thinking. Maybe after the event we could spend some?—"

For the second time in my life, I see the world move in slow motion.

And yet everything happens so fast.

The turn of Eden's head toward the blur of white, her scream, the crunch of metal colliding, the screech of tires.

It seems like an eternity passes before I apply the brakes, for the truck to stop, the impact of the crash.

And then spinning until the back end of the truck hits a power pole and comes to a stop.

Then the quiet.

The eerie quiet.

It's as though I'm watching a crash on TV with the sound on mute.

Then suddenly the sound comes back on at full volume.

All at once, I hear the hiss of the truck engine, the incessant thump of the windshield wiper blades against the glass, the pounding of the rain on the roof of the cab.

The smell of rubber and antifreeze permeates the air .

Breathing hard, I unclench my hands from the wheel and look over at Eden.

She looks back at me, her chest heaving, her eyes wide.

But she's alive and breathing.

I unhook my seat belt and climb across the seat, patting her body, checking for injuries. "Are you okay?"

She nods slowly, her eyes still wide with shock. "Yeah, I think so."

When she turns her head, blood is running down the side of her face. "Fuck, Eden, your head's bleeding."

She lifts her hand slowly to her head. "I guess it does hurt a little bit."

A knock on her side window startles us both. I reach over and hit the down button to lower the window. Sheriff Youngblood is on the other side.

"You guys okay?"

"She's got a cut on her head, maybe a concussion."

I look down at Eden's face, which in just a couple of seconds' time has gone white as a ghost. "Eden? Are you okay? Talk to me."

"My foot. My head. Pain."

I shift to get a better look at the floorboard and see the side of the truck has caved in on impact, and her foot is trapped in a ridge of metal.

And there's blood.

Shit.

"Sheriff, we're going to need an ambulance and the fire department. It looks like her foot is caught."

"Already called for one. Looks like Stan Truman had a heart attack at the wheel."

He pats Eden's shoulder. "Take deep breaths and hang tight, ma'am. Medical help will be here shortly. Any other injuries? "

We're able to see Eden has no other visible injuries other than her foot and head.

But for me, that's two injuries too many.

As the sheriff jogs away to meet the fire department, Eden drops her head back and lets out a breath. A grim smile plays on her lips. "Guess I should have listened to you and stayed home, huh?"

"Sunshine…"

The fact Eden has injuries at all makes me want to be sick.

Before I can dwell on the fact that I've once again fucked up where she's concerned, the fire department descends on the truck.

When the sounds of the cutter hit the metal, I know they're having to cut Eden out. I can't hold off the nausea, and I run to the grass on the side of the road and vomit.

A small towel appears in front of me when I finish dry heaving.

"You alright?" Youngblood asks.

I take the towel and wipe my mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"She's alert and they freed her from the truck. And she's in good hands now."

Red and blue lights fight against the gray skies to paint the air around us.

Youngblood watches me a moment. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yep."

The sheriff looks over to the white car that's facing the wrong direction in the middle of the road.

Another ambulance sits on the far side of the intersection, and one of the EMS workers shuts the back doors and hustles to the driver's side door.

I rub the back of my neck, tension lodged there that doesn't want to let up .

I'm pissed off that Eden's hurt and worried about the older man I know from the bait store.

He is a good man, a salt of the earth type.

"Fucking hell. Is he going to be okay?"

"Don't know yet." He pauses. "I'll make sure your truck is towed away and get the info for you."

"Thanks."

I look over at my truck that has finally quit smoking, the front end a mangled mess of steel, especially after they cut into the front fender to free Eden.

With a sigh, I look over at old man Stan's car, which is an older model sedan and will no doubt be totaled.

It's a blip on the radar for me to buy a brand-new truck, but that isn't the case for most of the full-time locals on the island, and Stan is one of those people.

Fuck.

With my hands on my hips, I look at the wet ground. "You know, it was an accident. If you can let it ride, let it ride."

He nods and makes a note on his pad.

"And send old man Stan's tow bill to me. I'll take care of it."

"You're a saint, Hanover."

I scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

He rolls his eyes and gestures toward the ambulance. "Take care of your girl. She's going to need it. And get some rest. You're both going to be sore as hell tomorrow."

"Thanks, man. Keep me posted on Stan."

"Will do," Youngblood says with a nod.

I jog over to the back of the ambulance where they have Eden on a gurney.

Eden's face is pale, her head lolled to one side, her eyes closed.

"Hey, Chase."

"Hey, Jack. How's she doing? "

"She's got a concussion," he says. "Nothing's broken, deep laceration on the leg that we'll stitch up. But we'll take her in to get a CT and observe her just to make sure there's not internal injuries."

I swallow back bile when he mentions internal injuries.

Dear God, please don't let there be anything we can't see. If I lose her, I won't survive.

"Are you coming, Chase?"

Jack's in the back of the ambulance, having already loaded Eden up, waiting for me expectantly.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

I climb up into the back and Jack shuts the doors behind me. Within minutes we're pulling into the small hospital on the island.

Fortunately, it's a quiet night with only one other person waiting in the emergency room, so Eden is taken right in.

They let me sit with her in the triage room, where she's awake but still hasn't said anything.

It's unnerving for her to be so quiet.

The nurse comes in and takes her vitals, then gives her an IV before asking for details on what brought her in. I fill in the gaps where Eden misses details.

When we're left alone, she leans her head back on the bed and turns toward me. A goofy smile plays on her lips. "Hey."

I smile at her. "Hey. How's the head?"

She rubs at her forehead, wincing slightly. "It hurts. But it's better than it was before. I must have been dehydrated. I'm feeling better since they put in the IV."

I chuckle. "Well, there's also some painkiller in that IV."

"Oh." Her eyes widen comically. "That's why I feel so good."

She squints an eye. "You know what? You're really handsome. Like, really handsome."

I bite back a laugh. "Thank you. You're really pretty. "

"Thank you," she says, preening.

She leans to the side, precariously close to the edge of the bed.

I brace to catch her in case she falls forward. "You know what else?" she stage-whispers.

"What?"

"I really like having sex with you. Can we do it again?"

High Eden is hilarious.

Before I can answer, there's a knock on the door, and an older gentleman in scrubs and a lab coat walks in.

"Hey, look, it's the doctor!" she exclaims and claps her hands before leaning back on her pillow.

The doctor chuckles and introduces himself, then proceeds to ask several questions while examining her cuts, bumps, and bruises.

"I'm ordering a head CT to check the concussion, but it appears to be a light one. The nurse will be in shortly to take you for the scan. How's your pain right now? One being no pain, ten being the worst pain."

Eden wrinkles her nose. "I would say something like a four. Maybe. I don't know. I'm not really feeling any pain, but my handsome boyfriend here said they gave me some painkillers."

Boyfriend?

Warmth courses through my body, hearing her words. I know I already think of her as mine even when she isn't around, and to hear her say the same elates me.

"Hmmm…I think it's a one."

Something about that makes her giggle, and she slaps a hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry."

The doctor chuckles and makes a note on the tablet in his hand. "I'd say you're doing okay at the moment, Ms. Mitchell. I'll be back when I get your scan results. "

Before I can ask her about the whole boyfriend comment, the nurse comes and takes Eden to get her scan done.

While she's gone, I call Nate.

"Hey, man, can you come pick me and Eden up from the hospital?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, we had an accident and Eden got banged up."

"Damn, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, she's fine though. Getting a CT right now, but we should be good to go after that."

"On my way."

"Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it."

I go back into the room and sit down with a groan. Bracing my elbows on my knees, I rub my hands up and down my face, my stomach hollow and achy.

What the fuck with my life?

I have more money than I can ever spend, all the material things a man can ask for.

But when it comes to people I love?

My life is a total shit show.

I sit here in a hospital, waiting for the woman I love to finish getting her head examined because of a car accident.

Another motherfucking car accident.

Except this time I was driving, which makes it even worse.

In the sensible part of my mind, I know it isn't my fault. It was a freak thing. How often does someone have a heart attack behind the wheel?

I should've been more insistent that she stay behind while I helped Stewie.

But the truth is I had wanted her with me, not left back at the house, so it had been easy for her to convince me otherwise.

Me and my motherfucking selfish ways.

My father had been right all along.

I'm a walking disaster, a selfish bastard who doesn't give two shits about anyone he really cares about.

It doesn't matter how many good deeds I do—in the end I'm still a selfish prick.

Always looking out for number one.

No, Eden didn't die. But she ended up with a concussion because of me.

All roads lead back to me and my fucked-up ways. The best thing I can do for her is to let her go.

Now I just need to remember this when I see her.

A few moments later, Eden's wheeled back in and can hardly keep her eyes open.

There will be no meaningful conversation tonight.

She snoozes while we wait for Nate, who arrives within the hour.

We get Eden loaded up and she goes back to sleep in the front seat. It's a quiet ride to our end of the island.

"Looks like the power's been restored," Nate says, as we pull up to my gate.

"We were lucky this time."

"No kidding."

He pulls up to the front door. "Need any help?"

"No, we'll be fine."

He eyes me over his shoulder. "How are you ?"

I look out the side window. "I'm good."

"You sure about that?"

I meet his eyes. "Positive. I'm not worried about me right now. I need to get Eden inside and settled. I'll worry about me later."

Nate sighs. "Okay, fine. Do you need any help?"

"Just get the doors for me." I toss him my keys to open the front door .

Minutes later, Nate has left and I've settled Eden into bed.

The nurse told me signs I need to look for from Eden overnight, things I already knew from the time a ball bounced off the mound wrong and knocked my ass out.

It was the only time I'd ever missed a start, and I'd had a headache for days.

After setting her pain meds and a bottle of water on the nightstand, I squat down beside the bed, studying her.

The soft curves of her face are etched in my mind.

The way her lashes brush the top of her cheekbones makes her seem almost angelic.

With a quivering hand, I brush back some strands that escaped her ponytail as she murmurs something under her breath I can't decipher.

The pain in my chest aches like a bitch.

It's like someone has reached in and pulled out my heart while it's still beating.

The need to move is overwhelming, so I stand and leave her to rest.

In the living room, I head for the liquor cabinet, pouring two fingers of whiskey and throwing it back.

The burn of the whiskey replaces the churning in my gut.

I don't want to let her leave again. But my selfish ways will always end up being an issue where she'll end up hurt.

And for once in my life, I'm thinking about someone other than me.

A sudden rage comes over me and I throw the glass against the wall, shattering it into a shower of tiny pieces.

I know what I have to do and it kills me.

Cutting ties is the only thing I can do to show her how much I love her.

I have to let her go.