Page 29 of Chasin’s Surrender

Whatever was going on with those two wasn’t because Bobby was a bitch to her. Chasin may’ve jumped to the wrong conclusion with Genevieve because his perspective was colored by his mother’s infidelity, but normally he was good at reading people. In his line of work, he had to be. And while he hadn’t fully understood why Bobby had kept secrets from Genevieve, he now knew those secrets weren’t kept to be malicious. As much as Chasin disagreed with her play, he believed Bobby had been trying to protect Genevieve. He just didn’t understand from what.

Undeniable pain flashed on her face and her torso swung back. Yeah, something was going on between those two but it was not Bobby who’d caused the rift.

“No. Bobby’s never treated me like shit.”

“Then who?”

“It’s none of—”

“You’re wrong, it is. Right now, everything’s my business. You have someone stalking you, sending you fucked-up letters, gifts, and breaking into your house. It’s my job to make you safe, part of that is knowing everything about you. I need to know your schedule, where you go, who you do it with, where you shop, what you buy, people you come in contact with, and why you’re with them. I need to know the name of every person who’s looked at you cross-eyed. Every person who works for you, who you’ve fired, who’s quit, who has access to you. Every person who’s tried to get your attention, every man you’ve shared your bed with, and especially the people in your life who treat you like shit.”

He lost Genevieve’s gaze when she looked down at the floor. She took her time gazing around the kitchen before her eyes finally came back to him. But she still didn’t speak. Something he was learning about Genevieve was she was stubborn as fuck.

“Why’d Bobby quit?” he asked.

“That is none of your business.”

“Wrong again.”

The two of them went into a stare down, something that would’ve pissed Chasin off if he didn’t see the wetness brimming in her eyes. His chest squeezed tight, and for a moment he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Causing her pain didn’t feel right, and if pushing her made her eyes shine with unshed tears, he’d have to figure out another way to make her talk.

“Did you know my parents tried to sue me?” she whispered.

The change in topic was so abrupt Chasin jerked in surprise. “What?”

“They filed a lawsuit, asking for fifty percent of my earnings.” Genevieve huffed a sad, flat laugh. “Fifty percent, can you believe that?”

“Babe, I can’t believe they’d sue you, period,” Chasin told her.

“Yeah, well, that’s them.” Genevieve shrugged in a way that told him she was resigned to the notion her parents were assholes. “They’re greedy. They’re drunks. But mostly they hate me. When I was a kid my dad was a functioning alcoholic. He would start drinking when he got home from work, but still managed to get up the next morning to go into the office. But when his drinking got out of hand and my dad lost his job, things got worse. Then my grandparents cut them off financially, so they cut off my contact with them, and things just went bad. My parents lost the house, they couldn’t afford to keep the cars, we wound up in a shitty apartment on government assistance. Something my parents blamed on my dad’s family, then on me. How it was my fault they were drunks is beyond me, but to this day they blame me.”

Chasin’s entire body felt funny. He wasn’t sure if what he felt was a cold chill running down his spine or if it was red-hot anger. Further, he wasn’t sure if he was pissed way the fuck off at Genevieve’s parents or if he felt profound sadness for her. All of these emotions mixed together and left him speechless.

Oh, he had plenty to say—none of it helpful, all of it ugly—so he kept his mouth shut in hopes she’d continue. He was equal parts confused why she was talking about her parents and happy she was opening up, but what he didn’t understand was what, if anything, the lawsuit had to do with Bobby quitting.

“I’ve been friends with Bobby for a long time, way before I got my first record deal. She tried her best to pull me back up while my parents were dragging me through the mud. And make no mistake, they played dirty. So dirty, I had no choice but to roll around in the muck with them. Bobby stuck by me, but the longer it went on, the uglier my parents got. To protect myself I did the only thing I knew how to do, what I’d been trained to do my whole life, and that was to retreat.”

Genevieve paused and took a deep breath before she whispered, “I don’t blame her for leaving me.”

Fucking shit.

Genevieve’s soft words were a punch to the gut, momentarily winding him. Chasin was having a hard time reconciling this soft-spoken, withdrawn version of the vibrant, confident, funny woman he’d met. That first night they’d been together, Chasin would’ve never guessed she’d been living under the shadow of a man stalking her, on top of a seriously whacked personal life. Nothing she said or did led him to believe she was anything but carefree and self-assured.

Chasin continued to stare at her. It hit him just how strong she was, though he knew she’d disagree. How much courage did it take for her to get up, put a smile on her face, write music, and perform in front of a stadium full of fans, when she thought so little of herself?

That realization wasn’t a punch to the gut—it was a kick to the balls. Genevieve was a riddle—remote, yet she put herself on display in unimaginable ways. He’d never written a song, never wrote a poem, not even when it was required of him in high school. He’d never attempted to write a single feeling or emotion onto paper. That didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the beauty of it, the vulnerability. Every time Genevieve sang, she opened herself up. And what she revealed was pure beauty.

“Baby, I get the feeling Bobby’s the most protective person you have in your life.”

Genevieve’s eyes flared at his statement. “If that’s the case, then why’d she quit?”

The sadness in Genevieve’s tone tore Chasin’s heart open. A forlorn pleading he wished he could answer because, at that moment, he’d do just about anything to take away her pain.

Chasin’s phone vibrated on the table, catching his eye. Genevieve used the distraction to put distance between them. Nixon’s name on the screen meant he had to take the call, when it was the last thing he wanted to do just then.

Chasin picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

“We got problems,” Nixon told him.