Chain of Title (20 page)

Then she ignored the pain in
her shoulders and wrists to unzip the back of her dress.  Letting the garment
drop from her body, she closed her eyes and stepped out of it.  Taking a few
deep breaths, she eventually opened her eyes.  She gasped at first, and then
the tears started flowing.  It was real.  It had really happened.  The bruises
marked her body and told the filthy story.  She looked away in disgust shaking
her head mournfully.

She stepped into the shower
and waited in a corner until the water heated up.  It could never be hot enough
to wash away everything.  She already knew that for certain.  If only she could
start this day over.  If only she had never gone to see Frank.  How could she
have been so wrong about a man she had known for over half her life and had a
child with?  A man who, up until today, had always been respectful of her
wishes and her body?

How could she ever reconcile
it?

Her mirthless chuckle echoed
in the oversized shower.  Finding him in bed with another woman was nothing
compared to this.  That heartbreak, she now knew, was a mere bump in the road. 
This
, what had happened today, was a complete and utter washout. 
Devastating beyond words or any emotions she had ever experienced.

Standing broken under the hot
water, Shayna pressed her fingers hard against her eyes, trying to keep the
tears inside.  She hated crying, and always had.  This was probably one of
those times when she should cry, but she just didn’t want to give in to it. 
She wanted some control over the heavy emotions threatening to crush her right
now.

The bathroom door splintering
as it crashed open, caused her to jump and scream.  She heard heavy steps and
then the shower door opened, steam billowing out.  There stood Sean in the mist. 
He stared despairingly at her, as if he himself had been broken.  She looked
away, turning and attempting to cover her body as he surveyed the damage.  Sure,
it was stupid, he had seen every square inch of her naked many, many times, but
right now she felt so humiliated, so fragile.  Just one little push and she
knew she would fall right over the edge.

Then he shocked her by
stepping into the shower—fully clothed.  Still wearing his maroon button down
shirt, black dress pants and expensive Italian shoes, he gently guided her
reluctant mind and body to him, and then encircled her in the tender strength
and protection of his arms.  The hot water spilled over their bodies, and the
steam cloaked them as he cradled her even closer, his heart knocking loudly
against her ear, beating for both of them.  No words were spoken, but so much
was said.  She wrapped her arms around him and held on desperately, as the mounting
pressure in her chest exploded, erupting into heaving sobs.  She had only ever
felt this kind of abysmal emptiness once before in her life, only cried gut-wrenching
tears like this once before.

Wes...when Wes had died.

She had curled up in a ball
in the corner of their tiny bedroom, her face buried in his pillow—still fresh
with his scent, and cried uncontrollably for hours the day the state trooper had
knocked on the door and forever altered the course of her life.  A part of her
died that day, too.  That’s what this felt like—a death, of sorts.

She just wasn’t sure whose,
yet.

The
low hum vibrating in the distance woke him.  Lifting his head from the pillow
to track the location of the sound, he glanced down at Shayna snuggled tightly
against his chest.  She was finally sleeping peacefully, after thrashing, kicking,
and crying in her sleep most of the night.  The noise he heard again was
definitely coming from downstairs.  Sean dropped his lips to Shayna’s temple
and kissed her softly as he began carefully unwrapping his arms and legs from
hers.  She sighed and mumbled something incoherent before falling blessedly silent
again.  He tucked the sheets and comforter around her trying to trap his warmth
inside with her.  Reaching out, he stroked her hair gingerly, before turning
and making a silent exit, drawing the door shut quietly behind him.  He padded
quickly down the stairs wearing only his black drawstring pajama bottoms.

As he landed on the last
step, he heard the sound growing louder, beckoning from the kitchen. 
Approaching the bar sink, he could see Shayna’s purse next to it, spotlighted
by the milky moonbeams streaming down from the skylight above it.  It looked
like her cell had slid out and onto the counter when she tossed her purse there
earlier.  Now the slim phone was skittering aimlessly along the concrete
surface.  When he saw who was calling, his lip involuntarily tugged upward in
loathing.  Picking up the phone, he slid the icon across the screen to take the
call.

“It’s about damn time, Shay,”
Frank barked in aggravation.  “I’ve been worried about you.  I didn’t like the
way you left today.”  He paused, sighing.  “Neither of us planned what
happened, but damn it, sweetheart, it did.  I’m sorry if I scared you.  I’ve
just missed you so much, and...I lost control.  It’ll never happen again.  I’ll
make it up to you.  I promise.  We should’ve worked this out a long time ago,
Shay, and now we will—I’m sure of it.”

Ice flooded Sean’s veins as
every conceivable method of destroying Frank Chastain streamed through his
vision in high definition.

“But first, you have to do
what I
told
you to do,” he said with tension building in his voice.  “
Get
rid of him
, Shay!  His fucking car is in your driveway.  Why?”

Sean’s head snapped back and
he quickly rounded the corner and strode swiftly through the hall leading to
the front doors.  He cracked a door open and scanned the area.  He almost
missed it in the mist and shadows, but there it was.  A black Mercedes in the
distance, lights off.  Sean craned his ear and diverted all other senses to pinpoint
and hear that one spot.  Yes, it was idling.  He darted back down the hall, cut
through the kitchen and into the mudroom.  Entering the garage, he immediately
moved to the wall with the obligatory home tools hanging on it and ripped off
the heaviest claw hammer.

“Answer me, Shayna.  Why is
he still there?  Do I need to come in and take care of it myself?” he ground
out angrily.

“
I’ll
take care of it—
myself
,”
Sean threatened ominously as he punched through the service door, tracking
swiftly across the grass and trudging up onto the narrow paved road.  He began
a determined march straight for the Mercedes a few hundred feet away.  Frank’s
surprise at who had been listening on the phone was evident from the sharp
inhale Sean heard in the receiver.

“You’re a dead man walking,
Chastain.  You’d better say your goodbyes while you still can,” he hissed. 
Sean’s pace hastened.  With the thick trees, tall grasses, cloud-covered moon
and the angle at which Frank’s car sat parked, Mother Nature had provided Sean with
cover and the opportunity for a surprise attack.

“I don’t know who the hell
you think you are, sport, but I’m done playing games with you.  I make the
rules, not you.  You’re a piss-ant who owns a shitty little restaurant, and I’m
going to squash you under my shoe.”

“You’re done when I say
you’re done,
old man
.  How do you feel about prison?”  Sean was close now,
and slid into the murky shadows to stake out Frank, who was sitting with a
phone to his ear and facing the house, leaving Sean in his blind spot.

Frank snorted.  “What the
hell are you talking about?”

“I know you could be sent to
prison for any number of fraudulent business practices—
and now rape
. 
You might want to consider turning yourself in, if you’re fond of your head
being attached to your body.”  Then Sean let out a sour laugh.  “I should warn
you though; you won’t even be safe from me in prison.”

Sean bolted from his hiding
spot with his arm swung back to allow for maximum force as he brought the
hammer down against the windshield.  Frank’s eyes popped in recognition and
fear just before the first shattering blow.  He threw the car into gear, tires
squealing and started to peel away as the second blow came down cracking the
windshield further and making visibility nearly impossible.  Sean was able to
get a glancing blow on the driver side window as the car sped past, and he
looked on as the brake lights flashed on in the distance.

He could hear Frank
attempting to kick the useless windshield away so that he could navigate the narrow,
circuitous road ahead.  Then Sean started jogging toward the crippled Mercedes. 
Just as Frank accomplished his task and began once again to make his getaway,
Sean used all of his strength to launch the hammer end over end through the
back windshield.

Frank Chastain tore away like
a bat out of hell.

And Sean Parker intended to
send him back.

****

Shayna
awoke to the sound of voices, drills, and hammering.  She sat up and looked
around the room.  Sean was gone.  Quickly getting dressed and running a brush
through her tangled mess of hair, she made her way downstairs to the sight of men
working inside and outside her house.

“Hey, gorgeous, sorry about
all of the commotion,” Sean said, as he approached her with an apologetic
expression.

“What’s going on?” she asked,
as he cupped her face in his hand, landing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Security system.  Best they
make.  My old friend Jerry Kent is handling it himself.”

“Kent Security?”  Sean
nodded.  “I’ve heard of them.  That’s who you used for Gaetano’s, isn’t it?” 
He nodded again and handed her a hot cup of coffee.  “Why are you doing this? 
Especially without talking to me about it first.”

“I want you to pack a bag for
a few days.  We’re going away—on the boat,” he said casually, then sipped his
coffee as if there was nothing to discuss.

“That’s it?  No discussion? 
No answers?”

He clasped her hand and led
her upstairs to her bedroom where he closed the door.

“Look, it’d be better for
everyone if we’re gone while the system is being installed—it’s extensive.  We
both love the water and being on the boat.  We need to get away for a little
while.  It’ll be good for both of us.  We need this, Shay.”

She watched him with
skepticism.  “What’s really going on, Sean?  Is the hair on the back of my neck
standing up for a good reason?”

He forced a faint smile with
a worn expression.  She couldn’t stand the look in his eyes right now.  It made
her feel like he thought she was weak and breakable.  Like she couldn’t take
care of herself.  Of course, she recognized he was only reflecting what she
already felt about herself.  That bothered her more than anything.

“You know I don’t like being
given orders,” she chastised.

“I haven’t given you any
orders, Shay,” he replied in a level tone.  He moved into her space and tilted
her face up to him.  “But I do need you to give me something.”  He paused and
stroked her cheek gently.  “Your trust.  I need you to trust me to protect you,
to take care of you, to do what’s best for you.”  She felt hot tears stinging
at the back of her eyes from his heavy emotion-filled eyes and words.  “It’s
the only way I’m going to get through this.  Please don’t fight me on it,” he
whispered, with a rough tenderness.

She knew what
this
meant, and instantly glanced away, shutting her eyes.  She nodded her response
and pushed the tears down with her eyelids.

He wrapped her in a warm,
safe embrace and sighed deeply.  “Thank you,” he said with obvious relief.

“I’d like to call Dani. 
Maybe I can meet her for lunch today, before we leave.”

She felt his body stiffen.

“Fine, but I’m going with
you,” he said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

Shayna pulled away to read
Sean’s stoic expression.  “Sean, that’s really not necessary.  I don’t need a
bodyguard,” she said as lightheartedly as she could muster.

One brow lifted slightly. 
“Really?”

Shayna swallowed and felt a
blush of embarrassment pepper across her cheeks.  Her eyes darted away again.

“Get used to me being around,
Shay.  I’m going to be hovering for a while.  At least until I know it’s safe.”

Butterflies fluttered
nervously in Shayna’s belly.  “Why wouldn’t I be safe?  What are you planning,
Sean?” she asked, with trepidation, her chest tightening.

His hands skimmed smoothly
down her arms to clasp her hands and bring them to his lips for a kiss on
each.  “There are some questions that I won’t answer, Shay.  There are some
that you shouldn’t ask if you don’t really want to know the answer.”

Before she could respond,
several knocks on the door interrupted their conversation.

“Yeah,” Sean called out
without taking his eyes from hers.

“Have a few more questions,
Sean.  Got a minute?” Jerry Kent asked through the door.

“Sure.  I’ll be right there.”

He kissed Shayna’s hands
again, his hard stare seemingly trying to impart the wisdom of knowing when not
to ask questions.  His words from the night before roared to life in her head,
causing her to shudder as he walked past her and headed down the stairs to meet
with Jerry.

****

“Do
you see her?” Sean asked, as his eyes scouted around Lucy’s, a trendy new restaurant
in downtown Mt. Pleasant with sleek modern lines, bright colors and stylish
pendant lighting

“No.  She must be running a
little late.  She seemed really excited when I talked to her this morning.  I
have a feeling something is up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, call it mother’s
intuition, but I think my daughter may be engaged.”

Sean pulled the vibrating
phone from his pocket and scowled at the screen.  “I need to take this, Shay. 
I’m going to find a quiet spot and then I’ll be right back.”  He looked
searchingly at her.  “You going to be okay?”

She hated being the damsel in
distress.  “Sean, I’m standing in a busy public restaurant.  I’m going to be
just fine
.  Please stop
,” she said with more bite than intended.  She
knew he meant well, but she needed to regroup, gather her strength, so that she
could regain her peace of mind.  He couldn’t do it for her as much as he
clearly thought he could.

He sighed and squeezed her
hand.  “I’ll be right back.  I won’t be long,” he said, kissing her on the
cheek.

Shayna watched as he walked
away, then turned her attention back to the chatty patrons in the restaurant. 
It had a nice mix of people.  Some were clearly here on their lunch hours;
others, with strollers and napping babies, were meeting up with friends to
compare notes on motherhood.  Shayna smiled warmly at old memories of Danielle
as a baby, then studied the day’s menu of assorted soups, salads, sandwiches, and
lunch quiches.  Her stomach rumbled.  The aroma filling Lucy’s, along with the
vibrant pictures of selected menu items, made her uncomfortably aware that she
had skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning.

“I was hoping you’d be here.”

Shayna jumped at Frank’s
gruff, deep voice.  Then his hand tugged at her elbow.  She instinctively jerked
away from his touch, her skin crawling and burning.

“What are doing here?”  The wobble
in her voice angered her.

He eyed her carefully for a
moment, then proceeded in a cautious tone.  “Danielle called me a little while
ago.  Said she and Harper had something to tell us.  I hope to hell it’s that
they want to get married—
not
that she’s already pregnant.”  He tried to
smile, but it didn’t work.

How could he stand in front
of her and talk like this?  As if what happened yesterday—didn’t, or was of no
consequence.  She struggled to find her voice, but her mind went blank with him
standing there staring at her, pinning her with his blue eyes.

“We need to talk, Shay. 
Maybe after Dani and Harper leave, if you have time.”  She continued staring at
him speechless, heart tattooing her chest, yesterday’s events slicing through
her like a hot knife.  “I’m sorry, Shay,” he said roughly.  For just an
instant, and only an instant, she believed him.  “This Parker guy you’re with
is trouble, honey.  I’m worried about you, worried about what you might get
pulled into with him.  He’s not who he says he is.”