Page 73 of Chasin’s Surrender

A month after that night, Charleigh missed her period and Paul got in there, married her, and they had their daughter, Faith. But Paul never stopped needling her about Holden. Chasin knew this because Paul had come to him on more than one occasion to bitch about his wife loving another man. He did this after he’d ply himself with booze, and the booze came out because Paul was riddled with guilt. He knew he’d done wrong, but he loved his daughter so much he took the guilt over what he’d done to her mother and Holden—that being making it impossible to work their shit out and be together. But there was no way Paul was leaving his daughter to give Holden a clear shot at getting Charleigh back.

Then Paul took a barrage of bullets, and with his dying breath, Paul gave Charleigh back to Holden. Chasin was at Holden’s side as he tried to save Paul’s life. And Holden had tried for a good long while, not willing to give up. Holden did that for Charleigh and Faith, so they wouldn’t lose him.

In the end, Paul was gone and Holden was fucked-up worse than the rest of them. And that was saying something because they all felt the loss of their teammate.

Now years later, Holden wallowed in guilt. He took pieces of Charleigh but still refused to let go of the past. He lived alone in his misery.

“Yeah, I got my shit sorted,” Chasin grunted. “The prints from the package that was left at Genevieve’s uncle’s came back. They’re not in the system. I looked back over everything Bobby had documented and went back over the reports Tennessee sent. I’m beginning to wonder how thorough they were looking for prints. Detective Loughry’s police work leaves a lot to be desired. It’s clear he wasn’t taking this seriously, so I have to wonder what he missed. And the dressing room that was destroyed wasn’t printed because Genevieve’s team didn’t want the press. Bobby pushed for the police to be brought in, but in the end, she lost. So that’s a bust, even though Bobby took pictures. And we have DNA from the break-in but no prints. How the hell is that possible? Did he jerk off with a glove on?”

The question tasted dirty. Chasin didn’t want to think too hard about what some sick fuck had done in Genevieve’s house. The whole situation pissed him off, but the break-in and what had been done in her room, on her bed, and the photo of the stalker defiling it in the grossest of ways, made his gut tighten.

“And the threats against you? You still keeping that from her?” Holden returned.

“For now. She’s got enough on her plate. She freaked out when I told her Bobby needed protection. She finds out there’s been a direct threat against me, she won’t take it well. She just fired her manager, got shit shoveled her way from that jacknuts, Len. Which by the way, his prints are in the system from his DUI and didn’t match the prints on the envelope and pictures, but he was still looking at her in a way I didn’t like. Chad Briggs is out, too, not a match. We’ve had drama after drama and I think before my asshole parents showed up, I finally made some progress getting her to let me in. So, no, I’m not piling this on top of her.”

“I think it’s safe to say you made progress, which might all be erased if she finds out you’re keeping this from her.”

Holden had a point, a good one that Chasin had already thought about. But he was willing to take his chances and hope she’d understand when he explained why he didn’t pile more stress on her back when she had more important things to worry about than a threat that would never amount to jack shit.

But he didn’t miss Holden’s comment. “What do you mean it’s safe to say I made progress?”

“She go head-to-head with your egg donor?”

“Already told you she had words with Nancy.”

“Right, but you didn’t tell me in normal Chasin-fashion that you tried to kick her fine ass back upstairs so you could go at it alone. She didn’t listen and had your back. And what you don’t know is, she’s been worried since you left that you’re mad at her because she called that cunt a whore.”

“What?”

Holden nodded. “I refrained from calling your mother the C-word in front of her but just barely when I saw your woman agonizing over the possibility of you being upset with her. She also sat here all afternoon running plans with Bobby, but not making any decisions until she’s talked to you. So, yeah, I’d say you made progress. Find a way to tell her about the threat. I’m not saying you blurt that shit out the second you hit your bed tonight, because, brother, with her ass in my bed, I wouldn’t be talking about stalkers, either. But—”

“I let that shit slide twice. There won’t be a third. You can imagine if I don’t like you talking about my woman’s ass, I really don’t like hearing you talking about her in your bed.”

Chasin watched Holden’s torso jerk. Then his head tipped back and he roared with laughter. As Chasin watched, he didn’t find anything funny, so he waited for Holden to burn out his hilarity.

“So, it’s like that?” Holden sputtered.

“Well beyond that.”

“Never knew you to be possessive of a piece—”

“Seriously?” Chasin barked, and Holden waved his hands in front of him.

“All right, I was kidding. Chill out, caveman. You better get upstairs to your woman, I know she’s up there awake waiting on you.”

Without sparing Holden another thought, Chasin jogged up the stairs, made it to the open door of his bedroom, and stopped dead.

He stood there with his lungs burning because he wasn’t breathing. The sight before him so fine, he couldn’t. Evie sitting in the middle of his bed, hair up in one of those messy knots that women wore, wearing one of his tees. She was sitting with her bare legs crossed, so he couldn’t see what kind of shorts she was wearing, or if she was wearing any at all. Her guitar was on her lap and papers were scattered around the bed. He did another scan and started breathing.

Christ, she was beautiful, but sitting there in the middle of his bed holding a guitar, she was stunning. And suddenly a vision flashed of the last time he’d had her in a bed. Naked and spread out for him. Her humming that sexy-as-fuck sound and him taking his time, giving her slow glides after he’d fucked her silly.

Great memory.

But he planned on making new ones, better ones, and they were starting on those tonight.

“Hey,” she muttered.

“Hey, baby. You all right?”