Chase (23 page)

She screams again, and digs her nails into my palm. I’m trying to remain outwardly calm, but inside I’m freaking the fuck out. I hate seeing her like this, in so much pain, and I can’t do anything but watch.

I can’t take this pain away for her, I can’t carry this burden.

This is all her. She is strong as hell, my Layla.

“Push, angel. You can do it, you are doing so well,” I tell her, encouraging her. She pushes again, then grabs onto the gas like it is her lifeline, sucking in a huge mouthful. After a few moments her body calms, contraction over.

“We are never having sex again, Chase Jackson!” She yells at me for the fifth time, her voice hoarse.

Three hours later, Layla makes her final push. I am in awe. A little bundle is put into my hands.

A head full of black hair, big brown eyes, pouty lips which are now opened in the shape of an O.

A son. I have a son. And he is perfect.

He starts to cry, and I look over at Layla, overwhelmed. She looks exhausted, but so, so beautiful. She is staring at me and our son with such a tender look. I feel tears in my eyes, which I try to blink away.

“Thank you for my son, angel,” I whisper, “I will spend the rest of my life loving you both.”

Tears run down her face now. “What is his name?” I ask her.

“Cole,” she whispers.

“Cole,” I echo. I love it.

I love them.

I come home from my shift at work. Chase didn’t want me working, still doesn’t. But after I finally got my nursing degree, I decided I would work part time, just two days a week. I love it. I open the door and walk into the hallway, staring at my wedding photos as I walk by. Chase and I had a huge wedding, when Cole was four months old. Nikki, Sasha and Tenielle were my bridesmaids; Kade, James and Ryder were Chase’s best men. It was magical.

I walk into the living area and watch as their faces light up as they all rush over to greet me.

Chase, Cole, Nate and baby Jacob all welcome me with varying greetings.

“How are my men?” I ask, giving them all a kisses.

“We all missed you,” Chase says. I look at him and see drawings on his arms. I laugh. Chase smiles sheepishly. He gives me another kiss, this one a touch longer, and a little greedier.

“Yuck, dad!” complains a now eight year old Cole. He is a spitting image of Chase, except he has my eyes. He is currently wearing a T shirt that says ‘Lock up your daughters,’ which his Uncle Kade and Aunt Nikki bought for him.

Nate and Jacob both have their dad’s blue eyes, and his dimple.

Good luck to all the ladies.

I change out of my scrubs, and watch as Chase rounds all the boys up for their baths.

I love watching him interact with them, teaching them, loving them.

It’s sexy as hell.

He catches me watching him and gives me a heated look.

“Later,” he mumbles.

“Later,” I repeat, biting my lip.

THE END

Coming Fall 2013

Kade (Resisting Love #2)

Nikki and Kade’s Story

Racing For Freedom by Bec Botefuhr

Prologue

People want a simple life: Simple family. Simple job. Simple children. Simple friends. What they don’t realize, is that life is never simple. Even if there was no war, no heartache, no pain, and no bad things to happen – life still wouldn’t be simple. You could walk down the street, fall, breaking your leg. Your simple life just became a whole lot different. You could have an accident tomorrow, and it could change everything. Someone could die, someone could be born, someone could cheat, and someone could get hurt. Simple, is never an option. Not really.

I wish for simple often, at least, the logical part of my brain does. I wish I was just a normal girl. I wish I had normal friends. I wish I had a boyfriend that would take me out, open doors for me, kiss my cheek like a gentleman and make love to me on rainy days. I wish my mother never died. I wish my dad never had that accident, it changed everything. I wish, often, that things were different. But they’re not, and life is how it is. We are dealt the hand we’re meant to have, and we’re forced to deal with it.

My life is so far from simple, I don’t even remember what simple feels like. My life, became anything but simple the day Slade Devaroe entered it, he came like a hurricane. He threw heartache and love into my life, in the most complicated of ways. He became my everything, and yet, he was the thing that broke me.

“Dash, baby, will you go get me some bourbon?” My father calls from the couch.

I’m in the middle of filling out a university application form. The pen is poking from my mouth and I’m mumbling angrily to myself. I don’t understand half these questions. I don’t even know why I’m applying. I guess I want to do something aside from racing, and this is my best bet. I raise my eyes to my father, and he smiles at me. I smile around the pen and nod. How can I say no? I forgot how to say no to him a long time ago. He stands and his body is angled slightly to the left.

My father was once a stunning man. He had broad shoulders, thick arms, a dazzling smile, and a woman to adore. Then the crash happened. The crash that changed everything. Now he walks with a limp. He rarely leaves the house, instead, opting to drink himself into oblivion most nights. I think it’s the only way he can sleep. I don’t blame him. I’ve contemplated it many times too.

My father, was a world champion race car driver. He won the championship three times. He raced every day and night, committing himself fully to the world of racing, and, go figure, it was an everyday car accident that stole his dream and his wife. Life is horrible like that, sometimes it’s sent to try us, in the cruelest, most gut wrenching ways. My father never had an accident on the track, but one rainy night driving home, changed everything for him.

“Sure dad,” I say, smiling.

His smile widens, as though I’ve relieved some sort of pressure in his mind. His brown eyes twinkle, and he runs a hand through his messy dark hair. “Thanks Dash.”

“No problem, anything else while I’m out?” I ask, picking up my purse, tucking it under my arm.

“Are you racing this afternoon?”

I frown. “Yes, Slade has moved back to town, so I have to put extra effort into my racing now. Lots more practices for me.”

My father grimaces. “That boy will be the death of us. He’s good Dash.”

“I know.”

“Have you spoken to him yet?”

I shake my head furiously. Slade and I go a long way back. We met during high school. We became friends through our love of racing, but it was always strained. Our fathers hated each other, competition was fierce. I don’t really know why they hated one another; I think competition just got the better of them and winning became everything. It’s sad how winning changes people, I swore it would never change me and I fought to keep Slade and I as close as possible.

Then that awful night happened, and everything changed for both of us. Slade and his family just upped and left the next day, he never even came to my mother’s funeral. I still don’t know why. Slade and I now dislike each other, to a point we can’t be in the same room for longer than five minutes, before going at each other’s throats. I’ll never forgive him for leaving me without even a goodbye. Worse, I’ll never forgive him for not being there when I needed him to be.

“I haven’t spoken to him,” I say, walking towards the door. “And I don’t plan to.”

My father looks weary, he’s warned me against Slade now for years, making me swear not to go near him and to avoid speaking to him. I understand why, he knows Slade pulls my heart strings. Our parents didn’t know of our close friendship, they knew we got along, but they never realized it ran so much deeper. Slade’s father refused to ever acknowledge me, constantly pushing his son to be a winner and forget the rest.

“Don’t look like that dad, it’s not worth your head space,” I soothe, gently.

He smiles, but it’s forced. “I know, thanks Dash.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

I walk out the door before we can discuss Slade any longer. It’s a beautiful day in Brisbane, Australia. We’ve lived here, in this same house, my entire life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. We travel down to Sydney a few times a year to compete, but mostly we compete here in Brisbane. There are a few good race tracks as well as a lot of older beach tracks that we can go to on weekend, off the record. I love place and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

I get into my old Chevy Nova that my dad did up for me before the accident. It’s my baby. I start her up, and the engine kicks to life, letting off a low, husky rumble. Ah, cars, it’s what I live for. I started racing when I was a kid, just go carts and things like that. When I was old enough, my father got me into cars, sneaking me down to the old beach tracks to practice. I still remember my first real race, it changed my life.

“You won Dashy!” Slade cries, wrapping his arm around me, swinging me in a circle.

I beam at him, I finally won my first race. Of course it wasn’t against the big guns, just a junior team, but I still won. The more I win, the more I’ll climb to the top with Slade. I beam over at him and his aqua eyes sparkle with joy. There’s never competition between us, even though we will eventually race against each other and only one of us will win.

“I can’t believe I did it!” I cry.

“You are going to kill it on the big tracks.”

Slade hugs me again and then takes my hand, leading me down to the small lake nearby. We sit on the soft grass and our hands remain firmly tangled. Slade and I don’t have a normal friendship, if our parents ever found out how close we are, things would become messy, very quickly. So for now, we hide it.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Amazing, I can’t believe I did it!”

“I knew you would Dash, you’re amazing.”

“Well, only thanks to you, I am certain I have learned half of what I know from you.”

He grins and a dimple forms in his cheek. “You got talent Dashy, you can’t teach talent.”

I snuggle into his side and sigh. He’s right about that. You can’t teach talent. You either have it, or you don’t.

I shake my head and the memory away, then I pull out onto the main road. I’m desperate for some coffee after going over those university applications, so I pull into our local coffee shop first. I park the car right down the end of the lot, away from all the other cars. Call me careful. I get out and walk into the shop, the aroma of coffee, and the grinding of coffee beans, takes me away so much, that I don’t notice him sitting in the corner with his buddies.

“Well well, if it isn’t my competition. Hello Dashy, long time no see.”

Slade. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I haven’t seen Slade for over a year. I saw him at a race two years after he left me and he treated me as though he didn’t know me. He was so cold and cruel, teasing and taunting me the entire time. I was so angry and hurt I vowed never to speak to him again. Luckily for me, he hadn’t been back…until now.

When I saw him last, he was twenty-two and hot headed, desperate to become something amazing. I slowly turn and face the man that has haunted my life and my dreams since I was a young girl. When our eyes meet, I feel a shock current jolt through me. Slade’s not a young man any more. He’s twenty-three now and oh, he’s still as beautiful as he was the day I laid eyes on him.

His lean body has now filled out with bulky muscle. His once clean skinned arms, are now boasting some seriously hot tattoos. His dark green eyes have lightened to an almost aqua colour that’s so striking, it’s mesmerizing. It’s like looking at a couple of crystals. They’re out of this world. His once short brown hair is now messy, yet it sits so perfectly on his head. His jaw is defined, his lips are full and he’s absolutely mind blowing. So mind blowing it takes me a moment to answer, but I get there. “Slade, it’s not a pleasure.”

“Dashy grew up, hell girl, you look fine.”

I hate him calling me Dashy and he knows it. He’s called me that since we were young, and once it was cute. Now…it’s painful.

“Slade,” I say, staring him right in the eye. “Why don’t you go and find someone else to chat up. I’d rather cut off my own arm, then to have you call me fine.”

His brows rise in challenge and his lips curl into a sexy, half smirk. “Dashy still has an attitude.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mama, I ask that you refrain from using that language in the shop,” the cashier says, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.”

“What can I get you?”

“Just a coffee. Black. Strong.”

Maybe a shot of alcohol.

“So, Dashy, are you racing this year?” Slade asks and I hear his friend’s chuckle.

I turn to face him again, with a snarky smile on my face. “Now Slade, I know you didn’t finish school, but I’m fairly certain you aren’t that stupid. If you’re serious about racing, you always know who you’re up against. It’s racing law.”

His smirk fades. “I know who I’m up against, and I know who’ll win.”

“Good, then the conversation is finished.”

“You can’t beat me Dashy,” he says, “I learned from the best.”

“I could say the same,” I snap, shoving a note towards the cashier, who hands me a coffee.

“Really? How did your father teach you, when he barely leaves the couch? Let me guess, you’re off getting him alcohol right now?”

That hurts. Hits me right in the heart. I turn and storm over, and then I tip the scalding coffee all over his lap.

“I hope you rot in hell, Slade.”

Then I tear out the door, listening to his pained bellows as the coffee burns his skin. I get to my car and fumble to unlock it. I’m angry, but mostly I’m hurt. I remember a time when Slade and I got along so well. Then wining took over and it took the boy I knew with it. I feel tears burn hot as I slide into the car and turn it on, jerking it to life. I drive straight to the liquor shop and it’s the first time I wonder if I’m doing the right thing, buying this for my father. Damn you Slade. Damn you.