Never Say Never, Part One (Second Chance Romance, Book 1) (7 page)

A sharp knock sounded at the front door.
 

“No way.” It couldn’t be him.
 

Emily walked out of her bedroom like a criminal walking to the electric chair. She checked through the peephole, but there wasn’t a soul there. The hallways outside was empty, and there wasn’t a chance she’d open up to check.
 

Was this some kind of sick mind game?
 

Beep, beep.

Another message came through on her phone, but she refused to go back and check it. Instead, she went over to her solitary window and inched back the blinds.
 

Cars drove by in the street below and a light drizzle had set in, speckling the passing windscreens. She searched for signs of him. And there he was, standing across the street with two other men.
 

Three bald men wearing leather jackets and flexing their biceps. They were about as inconspicuous as bikers in a gay bar. Big Nick pointed up to the window and his friend made a lewd motion with his crotch, humping the air in her direction.
 

Emily let the blinds fall back into place.

She tried to refuse the terror, but tears stained her cheeks. There wasn’t an escape.

CHAPTER TEN

Emily’s phone had gone off five times in the last half hour.
 

Three had been message tones, two had been calls, but she refused to look. She wasn’t about to torture herself by reading his messages.
 

She forced down a spoonful of spaghetti and chewed with determination. She wasn’t going to let this affect her. She’d been through worse!
 

Emily choked on a strand and forced it back before she gagged. Red sauce swam in the white plate and she studied it with disdain. The bits of spaghetti reminded her of bodies, like some sick car crash for her viewing pleasure.
 

She pushed it aside and crept to the window again, but Big Nick and his cronies were nowhere in sight.
 

Another knock at the door and the bastard tried the handle.
 

“Get out of here!” Emily yelled, hurrying into the kitchen and pulling open a drawer of knives. “Get lost.” She grabbed her sharpest steak knife and held it aloft.
 

“Emily?”
 

That wasn’t Big Nick’s ‘dulcet’ tone.
 

“Emily? It’s Chase.”

She dropped the knife in the drawer and staggered to her front door. She unlocked it at the speed of lightning, then dragged Chase indoors and locked them in.
 

“What the hell is going on?”
 

Emily was mute. She shook her head and swallowed tears. Now that there was another person in her apartment, the wall crumbled a little.

“Why did you come?” She spoke through numb lips.
 

“I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer your phone.”
 

Emily pushed past him and leaned on the wobbly kitchen table, keeping herself upright. He walked up and touched her shoulder. The dam broke.
 

She turned and launched herself into Chase’s arms and he folded her into his chest.
 

“What happened?”

But she couldn’t answer.
 

“Is it that Big Nick guy? He giving you trouble?”
 

The front of his shirt was wet from her tears, but she couldn’t stop sobbing.
 

“Em, you need to tell me what’s going on, otherwise I can’t help you.”
 

“You can’t help me.” She forced herself out of his grasp and went to sit on her dilapidated sofa.
 

Chase loosened the top two buttons on his shirt and massaged the back of his neck.
 

“Of course I can. Nothing is insurmountable. Do you need money?”
 

She grimaced up at him. “Keep it.”
 

“Then what, Emily? Fuck, I’m trying to help you here. Give me more than that, anything.”
 

She kept silent, staring at a spot on the wall where water damage had leaked through. He got two beers out of her fridge and opened them, then handed her one.
 

Could she trust him? There was nobody else in her life and she was so tired of keeping it in.

“I used to be a drug addict.”
 

Chase sat down beside her and moved in close. She waited for the rejection, but it never came.
 

“Good for you.”
 

“Yeah, I owe Nick a lot of money because of that. He drew me in with a freebie and got me hooked and from there it was downhill.”
 

“How did you get out of it?”
 

“I realized that some things are more important than the next high.” Emily toyed with the rim of the bottle.
 

“Like what?”
 

Here went nothing.

“My children.”
 

The apartment went quiet except for the rumble of car engines outside and a distant gunshot.
 

“Pardon?”
 

“I have two children from a previous marriage. It didn’t end well, and when I lost custody I lost my mind.” She turned to him, expecting hatred or anger, but she got pure empathy. “Losing Jared and Becci was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. I sank into drugs before I could think.” It wasn’t exactly true, but it was close enough.
 

“I’m sorry, Emily.” He squeezed her hand, then slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I wish I could’ve helped you somehow.”
 

“Thanks,” she bleated.
 

“But wait, I can still help you with Big Nick.”
 

“I won’t let you give me money, Chase. I refuse, I’m sorry. I’ve never been the kind of person to take handouts.”
 

“What if I lent it you?”
 

“No. I need to do this on my own. I need to prove that I can pull myself together and get the kids back on my own.”
 

Chase ruffled his hair in frustration, searching the room for an alternative. “Okay, okay. What if I got Big Nick out of your hair until you can make the money?”
 

That was interesting.
 

“How?”

“I’ve got a few, uh, connections in law enforcement. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Emily took a sip of her beer. “It won’t work, Chase, but thanks.”
 

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not Nick on his own. He’s got a bunch of cronies walking around, and I don’t know half of them. Hell, I don’t even know one by sight. The minute you take him out, is the minute he phones his buddy to come ‘exact his payment’.”
 

“Shit.” Chase slapped his thighs and stood up to pace around in front of her.

“I’ve got to handle this on my own. Somehow.”
 

He struck a pose and considered what she’d said, scratching at his chin stubble with a manly rasp. “Fine, but I’m going to be around, keeping watch on things. So don’t feel alone.”

She couldn’t describe how much that meant to her, so she settled for a nod.

“How come you’ve got so many contacts?”

Emily had spewed her past all over the place, it was about time he opened up a little too. The mystery man act was cute for a couple weeks, then it got old fast.

“I’m a successful business owner with a couple connections. It’s nothing special.” He dropped down beside her again. “Listen, are you okay? Do you want me to stick around tonight?”
 

Emily quirked an eyebrow at him. “I think I’ll survive.” Another lie.
 

“Ah come on. I’ll sleep on the couch, woman, you don’t have to worry.”
 

She lightened up a little and allowed herself a smile. Having him around had calmed her nerves, perhaps it was better if he stayed the night, in case Nick and his buddies came back for another peek.
 

“All right. But no funny stuff,” she joked, and he clipped her chin lightly with his forefinger.
 

It was an affectionate move which made her want to stay with him on the couch, or invite him into her bed.
 

“No promises.” Chase winked at her and her mouth went dry.
 

“I’ll get you a blanket and pillow.” Emily struggled up, keenly aware that he was likely admiring her ass as she strode off.
 

He was good guy, albeit a guy who refused to talk about himself. Ever.
 

Could she trust him?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Emily didn’t care what the song was. She was exhausted from the ‘Big Nick scare’ the night before.
 

She grasped the pole, flipped herself upside down and wrapped her legs around it, then slid down until her arms touched the ground. Emily did a backwards handstand off the pole and settled into a split a second later.
 

The men at the end of the stage had their mouths open, watching her bump and grind.
 

Big Nick stood beside the exit as usual, those oversized thumbs in his belt loops, with a Cheshire grin on his pocked, sweaty features.
 

The smoke in the club was a haze above ashtrays and half full drinks. It was 10 in the morning and still the club had a couple regulars flitting about. Men without wives or men with wives who didn’t put out or men who were total sleazebags beside and the strippers gravitated around them.
 

Isis was in, doing lap dances with about as much skill as an amoeba, though lap dances weren’t exactly an art form or anything. The stripper was pretty except for her over-sized nose and shit attitude.
 

She glanced up mid-dance and met Emily’s gaze, then rolled her eyes and carried on gyrating. The grubby trucker she ‘entertained’ wore an expression glazed with boredom and held a wad of bills he’d yet to insert into Isis’ gaudy pink hot pants.
 

“Nice rack,” an old timer called out at the end of stage, and Emily swayed across the stage and allowed him to insert a fifty into her thong.
 

So far, the morning had been demeaning and Big Nick’s constant presence spurred on the nausea. She’d spew chunks at this rate. He strolled past the end of the stage and winked at her, then guffawed and clapped once. The men ignored him, sipping from drinks, smoking cigarette after cigarette.
 

The strip club’s door opened and Chase entered. Humiliation joined the nausea and Emily retreated to the pole again, but he’d already spotted her. Looked like he meant to make good on that promise of keeping watch on things.
 

It gratified her in a way. She’d started to trust him and his character, and that scared her a lot.
 

Big Nick hadn’t noticed the new addition to the audience yet.
 

Chase sauntered up to him with a shit-eating grin. “Hiya little fella. Long time no see.” He aimed a playful punch at Nick’s shoulder and the bouncer cracked those skew knuckles and growled.
 

“What are you doing here?” Big Nick asked in that typical half-brained drawl.
 

“Oh, ya know, keeping tabs on my favorite club.”
 

They were right at the end of her section of the stage and she was tempted to creep closer and observe. But she wasn’t that crazy.
 

“I’ll be in the back over there if you need me,” Chase spoke too loudly and it was obvious the comment wasn’t aimed at the mini-giant in steel-toed boots.
 

Emily couldn’t help admiring him. He had balls to come back to the club after the beating, but then, he was sober. He’d probably have more of a chance against Nick if things went south.
 

Big Nick shook a fist at him and Chase chuckled, gave a cheery wave and navigated the tables and strippers to take up a seat at the back, a few tables down from Isis’ precious dance show.
 

Emily moved with the rhythm and glanced away from that direction. Chase was fixated on her, and she couldn’t help picturing that it was a private dance, just the two of them in the room with the heat and distance between them. It helped with the nausea.
 

She spun around the pole, fixating on the clock above the DJ booth, and enjoying the sensation of dancing. She tuned out the jeers and chuckles from the watchers and reveled in the fluidity of the dance.
 

If she could she’d be a dance teacher in a heartbeat. Even if it was to teach other strippers how to pole dance. Emily scoffed at the thought – fat chance that would ever happen.
 

Stripping was all she’d ever get.