CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) (50 page)

Remy

It’s amazing what a little honesty and a lot of really good make-up sex can do for a girl. I feel amazing, fantastic, reborn as the early morning light filters through the windows, bathing Chase in a murky glow that shadows some of him and leaves other highlighted.

His back.

He’s lying on his stomach facing me, one arm thrown over his head. From this angle I can see the tattoo I never really got to inspect since Chase very rarely sleeps deeply enough for me to get this close unless I’m pinned beneath him.

Scooting up, I lean in a little closer and squint at the design so hard it takes me a while to figure it out. It’s a name done in swirling streaks of dark reds and black.

Remy
.

My name…it’s designed with my name.

Tears immediately flow and I’m touching the tattoo reverently before I know it. It’s a dark print, something that from afar looks like blood. No, like a bloody wound. But, once close, you can see the care and artistry that went into it.

He’s got my name inked into him, as if I’m supposed to be there—

“I had it done about a year after I left. I didn’t want to forget,” he says, making me startle.

My fingertips stroke back over it and I breathe deep and bite into my lips before speaking.

“It looks like a bloody wound.”

“Yes, because at that stage of my life I felt raw and wounded,” he says softly.

Ah, so this is what he never said last night. Maybe I was expecting it because I feel no surprise at his words or their implication. Chase felt hurt and wounded by
me
. Maybe not physically, but his ordeal was a direct result of knowing me. If not for me and my ‘self-examination,’ Chase would have gone through school and graduated. He’d have been there for his dad and done all the usual things that young men do.

I’ve taken a part of him away without realizing it. It hurts to know that I did so much harm to him that he felt the need to ink me into his skin.

On one hand it’s flattering, but really, I can’t ignore the clear message there. Chase, no Alex, bled for me, just for knowing me.

“Don’t Remy. Don’t do that babe. I did this a long time ago, before I knew the whole truth.”

I pull my hand back and lean into the headboard, feeling a little sick, and so far away from the bliss of before that I can’t think past the ache in my chest.

Chase flips over and grabs my wrist, pulling me down and into his chest.

“I—It was my fault they hurt you. If you’d never known me, if I’d just stayed on my side instead of hopping that fence, you could have stayed in Washington with your dad and been happy. They wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“Oh, babe. No,” he murmurs, pulling my chin up so he can look straight into my eyes. “They did it because they’re cowards. Bullies. Idiots. They saw one of ‘their own’”—he sneers at the words—“Being more than an empty shell and that pissed them off. Never apologize for wanting more than the stupid role they set for you. You never belonged with them.”

He says that last part so fiercely that I have to smile because I know, hope I know, what’s coming next. He doesn’t disappoint.

“You always belonged to me.”

***

“Chin up, Rem. Time to roll.”

I grimace and primp at my hair when the house of one Terry Gruber comes into view. Fuck, I hate these assholes and yet I feel a thrill of excitement too at the prospect of being here to witness the second part of my plan.

Just two days ago, Brick and the guys made a phone call to Brian, letting him know that ‘we know what you did to that girl in high school. How do you think the American public will feel if they ever see this tape senator?”

That had been the beginning, but gosh, when I’d seen Brian the ass running out of his house in frantic panic, I’d turned to Chase and laughed so hard my belly ached.

“Now that was well worth the wait.”

Chase laughed too, despite the fact that we sat in the car for twenty minutes before Brian made his move. Dec had followed him right to Knox’s house, and while I have no idea what went on there, we do know that there were outgoing calls to Gruber, Denton and Velos. All the players are now engaged and, Lord above, am I looking forward to tonight’s fundraiser.

All of the players will be there. I’ll get to watch them unravel one by one as Brick and Neil make phone calls to each of them. I’m so giddy at the thought of watching them flounder that I can’t sit still as we pull into the driveway of the stately mansion that still belongs to Gareth Knox Sr.—the house Jr. now lives in too, since Chase bankrupted him.

Word is that his wife, Priscilla, isn’t too happy with him right now. I suspect that’s got more to do with those photos Chase sent to her of Gareth and his mistress screwing in his car, though.

Heh.

I almost float along beside Chase when the doorman announces us. We enter the house. I feel great, look great—in my deep blue ball gown with black crystals stitched into flower designs all over the skirt—and most of all, I feel powerful as Chase rests his arm over me and pulls me close, his face a study of satisfaction.

“You ready, babe?” he asks, giving me a squeeze as we step into the ballroom and people start approaching.

“Ready.”

The first to approach us is Helena, my conniving, loose-limbed cousin. I paste on a radiant smile, though I’d like nothing more than to grab her head slam her face into my knee.

“Remy. I-I am so glad to see you. You look lovely,” she whispers.

“Lena.”

Her name comes out a hard hiss and I feel Chase’s fingers dig into my hip slightly. He’d cautioned me not to raise trouble, but hell, I’m only human. And any normal woman would drop kick her skinny butt for such a gross betrayal.

But heck, she did me a favor by banging Brian, didn’t she? Maybe I shouldn’t hold a grudge.

“You look great too, though a little skinny.”

Chase strokes my hip and I see Helena relax and give me a tentative smile.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about, Rem. It’s really…oh there you are darling!” she says suddenly, her voice a cheery quiver that makes my skin crawl.

Or maybe that’s just the fact that Brian has walked up and is standing in front of us in all his pomp and glory.

“Remington.”

Oh gosh. Really?

“Carson, I don’t believe I’ve yet had the displeasure of meeting you. Chase Marshall, Remy’s husband.”

I flat out grin and have to stifle a good giggle at that. Possessive oaf. Brian turns a dark shade of crimson bordering on purple. I glimpse Lena sucking her cheeks in, and from the corner of my eye I see her glancing at me surreptitiously, her own eyes dancing with glee.

“Pretty soon to be married, isn’t it, Remington? The ink hardly had a chance to dry.”

Oh no you did
not
Brian.

“What can I say, Carson, she knows a real man when she sees one. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

He doesn’t qualify or say anything more before nodding to Lena and steering me away. I see a lot of old faces as we make our way through the throng. My mother wears a pinched look, and she snubs me in an overly obvious way by turning her back to me as we approach.

“Remy, girl, there you are.”

“Hi Dad.”

I lean in for an uncomfortable air kiss and then Chase shakes his hand. I see dad wince a little and refrain from giggling.
Men
.

Mom is still turning the cold shoulder. I feel Chase tense beside me before launching into a dreary recap of the business market or something like that.

My gaze starts roaming and I spot Dec’s blond head towering over the crowd where he’s currently flirting with some chick I’m sure I should know but can’t quite remember.

Brick’s perusing the buffet, and Hensley can’t be more than a few steps away even though I can’t see him at the moment. The guy is always close by me, and I can honestly say that besides Liv, he’s one of my pals.

“Remy, babe, let’s go get something to eat.”

“Bye, dad.”

“See ya later, honey.”

I almost laugh at the sniff mom let’s off.

“Christ, you survived gestation in that?”

Then I do laugh because I’d had that very thought a time or two.

“Yup. Stop scowling, Chase, we’re supposed to be having fun. Just think about the chicken coop and the flying feathers.”

“You know how I like to take care of chickens, Remy, and I can promise you—in no way does it involve watching,” he muses, handing me a plate and positioning me in front of him.

Tonight’s event is a ‘simple’ get together whereby patrons of various charities have come together to lend their support and shine a spotlight not only on the charities, but how much suffering and need there is just in our small little speck of the world.

In reality, it’s a mediocre buffet where the rich stand around gossiping and showing off their millions in jewels and accessories. It’s sad but true that those who ‘give’ actually can’t understand the first thing about needing.

“Ahh, look, babe.”

I’m pulled away from examining shrimp and some dried, leafy stuff when Chase leans in and whispers into my ear, his voice a soft caress against the skin at my nape.

I follow his direction to see all five players simultaneously answer their phones.

Oh glory, the looks on their smug faces!

I watch as they go stiff and seem to listen just that much closer. I almost bust a gut when they start looking around almost frantically, their gazes eventually coming to rest on me.

I give no outward sign of noticing, instead enjoying the way that Chase’s hand comes up to my hip to pull me closer. I peek at them out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m enjoying this almost as much as this morning, babe.”

I blush and dig my elbow into his side, scowling at his chuckle and the soft caress he gives to my hip because, yeah, this morning was spent with his head between my legs and a very instructive tutorial on how to have sex in the shower.

“Oh, I dunno. I think this morning was untouchable, but I’m kinda liking those looks of horror I’m getting. Think we can drag this out enough that they’ll actually go a little crazy?”

We’re at the end of the table by this time and I turn to see Brick grinning at us like a loon. Yup, phase two is complete. Now all we have to do is watch as the five Stooges start bonking each other on the head.

We’ve given them the hammers, now all they need to do is start swinging.

The best kind of entertainment.

“So now that that’s done, what say we go home? My feet are killing me and these damned undies are trying to eat my ass,” I grump, already losing interest when Brian seems to get a good handle on himself and the rest follow suit.

“Okay, babe. Let me just go round up the guys.”

“M’kay. I’ll go to the ladies room and meet you out front, and no, I won’t be alone since Hen keeps following me around,” I mutter, kissing him before making my way out of the room and down a long hall to the left.

I take care of business and exit the toilet to go wash my hands when a hand lands on my shoulder almost giving me a stroke.

“Shh, Rem, it’s just me.”

“Geez—”

“Shh, whisper, I don’t want anyone knowing we’re talking.”

“
Okaaay
. Are you alright, Lena?” I ask, double-checking the lock on the door since she keeps glancing behind her, staring at the thing as if it’s a snake about to strike.

“Rem, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” I mutter, leaving the door to walk over to the sink and wash my hands.

The action is two-fold. I really need to wash my hands because not washing after wiping is beyond nasty, but also I need a little distance from her.

Lena is still the woman who betrayed me, forgiveness or not, and my bucket list doesn’t include schmoozing with my ex-husband’s booty call.

“Remy, this is important!” she hisses, tripping over to the door and double-checking the lock.

Her movements are jerky, and I suddenly become aware of the fact that Lena is not just nervous but seems a little afraid.

“Lena, are you okay?”

I finish washing my hands and start inching my way to the door, feeling less than comfortable when she nods jerkily. Her actions are not fluid and I’m not sure that being alone—“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness or trust because of the way I betrayed you, Rem. Believe me, I understand if you don’t listen to a word I say and walk out that door, but I have to tell you…something hokey is going on with Brian. I think he’s planning something.”

“Planning?”

“He’s been raging about you and Chase. The committee called him in on Wednesday and…they had these photos of him and me when you guys were still married, and…it doesn’t look good for his career. He’s real mad, Rem.” She casts another glance at the door before taking my hands in hers and taking a deep breath.

I don’t really want to listen to a word she has to say because, yeah, I don’t trust her. Just the fact that she’s still fucking Brian tells me that she’s not worth a consideration from me, but gosh, her eyes as she looks at me are so nervous and jumpy.