Chapter Twenty
CHASE
The Next Night
Working with Dax today felt like moving through fog. My body was there, but my head? Somewhere else entirely. He’s doing what he can, trying to strategize, throw lifelines, and map out the next phase like we’re in a war room.
And he’s not wrong.
This next move will take precision.
Timing.
Control.
We’ll need to do recon, figure out how to play this without setting off another emotional landmine. But even with the gears turning in the background, I couldn’t focus. Not with Lyric echoing in every corner of my mind.
Now I’m back at my place, this oversized mansion that feels more like a shell than a home.
It’s quiet, too quiet, and all I can think about is how much better life felt crammed onto her secondhand couch, eating spicy takeout, with Polly perched on my shoulder and Lyric curled up against my side like she belonged there.
Because she did.
She still does.
And yeah, maybe I’ve taken a few hits to the ego lately, but it’s not weakness that’s got me here. It’s the weight of losing something that mattered more than pride.
I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees as I stare at nothing in particular. The silence presses in, heavy and suffocating, and all I can do is sit here, rage in my chest, ache in my gut, trying to figure out how the hell everything spiraled so far off course.
She’s in my blood. In my bones. And I’m not done fighting for her.
Not even close.
But right now?
Right now, I’m just a man sitting in the dark, trying to remember what it felt like to breathe easy.
The dim lights of my living room send an ominous tone over the sunken room, while I sip the remainder of my coffee.
I want to do something.
I can’t just sit here.
I have to be proactive.
I need to see her.
I make a split-second decision.
Reaching out, I grab my dark coat and storm through my cold foyer, pick up my keys from the buffet, and head for the giant double doors.
I push through them, slamming them shut behind me, and make my way to my car.
I don’t know what I’m doing. All I know is I need to get to her.
My heart pounds in my chest, my breathing frantic as I start the car, then speed off as fast as I fucking can.
The radio flicks on, and Savage Riot plays over the speakers, singing of unrequited love.
I grunt, feeling like her father’s either giving me a pep talk or warning me off.
I just can’t decipher the message the universe is sending me right now.
Tension runs through me while a bead of sweat forms on my brow.
My fingers clench the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turn ghostly white.
I pull down Lyric’s street, not having any clue what the hell I’m doing.
Am I going to demand she talk to me?
Am I going to throw myself at her mercy?
I haven’t thought this through.
I’m too busy freaking myself out.
I pull the car to a stop across the street, taking a deep breath. I glance over at her home to see that her front bay window is open.
I shake my head. The woman needs to learn to close the blinds.
I step out of the car, closing the door quietly behind me like the sound might shatter something already hanging by a thread.
The cool night air brushes against my neck, but it doesn’t do a damn thing to calm the heat building beneath my skin.
My legs carry me forward, slow and steady, each step toward her front door pulling something heavier from my chest.
This house, her house, still feels like the one place in the world where I could breathe without pretending.
Every memory I have of real peace lives behind those walls.
I’d give anything to be inside right now, sitting beside her, letting the silence stretch out like it used to when words weren’t needed. But that’s not where I’m at. Not yet.
The closer I get, the more my pulse starts to trip over itself.
My palms are slick, and my throat is so tight it feels like I’ve swallowed something jagged.
I drag my hands down the front of my pants, trying to pull myself together, forcing in a breath that doesn’t do a damn thing to settle the storm raging inside me.
Just as I reach the edge of her walkway, the porch light flashes on—bright and sudden, slicing through the dark.
I freeze mid-step. My heart slams once, hard against my chest. I pivot fast and drop low, ducking behind the thick bushes flanking Lyric’s bay window.
The scent of soil and greenery mixes with the sharp tang of my own sweat as I crouch low, sucking in air like I’ve run miles, not a few slow paces.
I close my eyes for half a second, jaw clenched, waiting for the light to switch off.
And then I hear it. Loud, pulsing, heavy bass. It seeps through the window in thick vibrations, echoing into the night. The volume alone tells me everything I need to know—something’s not right. I shift, easing myself higher just enough to see through the glass.
And the sight knocks the breath from my lungs.
Lyric’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, still dressed in one of those oversized T-shirts that fall off one shoulder, showing skin I haven’t touched in days.
Her legs are bare, curled beneath her, and there’s a pint of Ben & Jerry’s melting against the heat of her hand.
Her lips move like she’s talking to herself, and I catch the faint shimmer of tears on her cheeks in the low flicker of the lamp.
I stay completely still, not even blinking, my eyes locked on every movement she makes.
The way she keeps scooping at the ice cream, even though she’s barely eating.
The way she talks to Polly is like he’s the only one who hasn’t let her down.
The way she clutches the edge of the ice cream tub as if it might catch fire in her hands if she lets it go.
Everything outside this window fades to nothing.
My whole world narrows to the woman in front of me, devastated, alone, and doing her best not to fall apart completely.
And I can’t do a damn thing about it.
Not yet.
But I will.
Queen’s “The Show Must Go On” plays loudly through her speakers, and it smacks me right in the chest. I sink into myself as I watch her. She’s attempting to build herself up, but I know she’s struggling. It’s obvious. I mean, she’s practically bawling into her tub of Chunky Monkey.
“I’m so sorry, Lyri,” I murmur.
Suddenly, her head jerks up as if she’s sensed me.
My eyes flash open wide as my body reacts without thinking. I fall back into the shrubs, trying to hide myself from her.
Again.
“Shit!” I cuss as I scuffle into the bush.
The music turns off, so I duck into the bushes farther.
Luckily, I’m wearing black, and I hope like fuck she won’t see me.
I hear her window creek open, and I smell her fruity perfume.
I inhale deeply, my senses coming alive as I close my eyes and try to keep myself in check.
She’s right above me, and my heart leaps into my throat.
All I want to do is look up, to tell her I’m here, and that I love her.
That I’m sorry, and that I’ll do anything to stop her hurting like this.
“Must be a skunk or some other rodent,” she murmurs to herself. Her voice is all nasally, obviously from her copious amounts of crying. She closes the window, and I let out a relieved sigh.
“Fuck, that was close,” I whisper.
I hear her pull her curtains closed, and I smile. Good girl.
Rolling my shoulders, I risk glancing up to see the window completely covered, and I let out a heavy exhale. Dusting myself off, I quietly extract myself from the bush and stand staring at the giant window as the light turns on again.
Goddammit! I wish I had more time to watch her.
I know how creepy that sounds, but catching a glimpse of her, just seeing her for a moment, even though she’s a mess, somehow makes me feel close to her again.
I’m not sure I am ready to let go of her just yet.
I can’t go to her door, not in the state she’s in. It will be too much for her. So I crack my neck and do something I thought I’d never do.
Hell, I’m already a creeper. I may as well add snooping to the list too.
My eyes dart around to check if any of her neighbors are watching.
There’s no one around, so I make my way to her bedroom window.
I feel all kinds of mixed emotions. Like I’m invading her privacy, like I definitely shouldn’t be here.
But I need more of a fix, and it’s outweighing my need for her privacy.
She’s like a drug, and I can’t help myself.
Her blinds are drawn, but there’s a tiny slit in the middle where she hasn’t closed them properly.
I know I’m a fucking creep, but I sink low and peek inside her bedroom.
She’s standing by her mirror, wiping the tears away from her cheeks.
I frown, wishing I were there to do it for her.
She pulls the top knot from her head, her perfect blonde waves falling around her face as she switches off her main light, leaving the room in darkness.
The sensor light has flicked off again, and I can’t see her except for her silhouette.
She makes her way to her bed, pulls back the covers, and slides in.
She fluffs her pillows, then snuggles into them.
I wish more than anything I was behind her, cuddling into every inch of her perfect body.
“Goodnight, Hallmark, wherever you are,” I hear her say through the slightly open window.
I tense, wondering briefly if she knows I’m here.
But she couldn’t know… could she?
I relax a little, hearing her breathing calm while I keep my eyes on her body. I’m glad she isn’t crying anymore. Seeing her so worked up like that fucking kills me.
I’m honestly not sure what I’m doing. Squatting outside Lyric’s window, watching her fall asleep—it’s fucking creepy, even I know that, and I’m taking this too far. She would probably feel violated if she knew, but I want to know she’s okay.
I want to make sure she’s coping.
I want to be here if she falls into too big of a heap.
I want to be the man to put her back together, even though I am the man who broke her apart.
I don’t fit the Hallmark mold, but dammit, I’ll rewrite the whole movie if it means I get my girl.
I turn my back, gently sliding down against the side of her house under her window.
I don’t have a plan.
I don’t know where my mind is at right now, but what I do know is that I want to be close to her. I need to be close to her. And if being here while she drifts off to sleep is what I have to do to accomplish that, then so be it.
The moon shines bright, hanging in the velvet sky.
A barred owl hoots in the distance, making tonight feel like something more out of a Halloween movie.
Opossums run up and down the tree in her front yard, trying to find nuts or whatever the fuck it is they’re after.
It’s amazing how, after we go to bed, the whole world comes alive.
I had no idea how beautiful the silence can be.
The glow of the moon lighting the street and the stunning garden Lyric has created makes me realize I never take the time to admire the small things.
But now that I have a moment to literally stop and smell the roses, I can see all the hard work she’s put in.
It’s just another reason to love her.
The sound of a car making its way down the street makes me tense as the headlights come closer toward Lyric’s house.
The thought of someone seeing me sitting out the front of her bedroom window rings alarm bells.
I don’t want to go to jail tonight, or any night for that matter, so I creep in behind another bush by her bedroom window.
Fuck, I’ve never been so glad that she has a green thumb as I am right now.
The car slows down on approach, and I wonder if whoever’s in the car can see me as a spotlight comes out of the window shining right on her home.
I stand stock-still, narrowing my eyes on the side of the car.
Laguna Beach Security.
Fucking hell, she has patrols on her house? Figures. She is rock royalty.
I need to remember this.
My heart races in my chest so fast, waiting for the guard to get out of the car, but before I have a second to break into full panic mode, the spotlight flicks off, and the driver speeds off down the road in a hurry like he’s missing out on a special at McDonald’s.
I let out a relieved exhale as I try to control my breathing. Edging out from the bush, this time I attempt to keep away from the sensor light as I turn to her window and peek into her room, the shards of silver moonlight illuminating a light on her beautiful face.
She’s fast asleep.
Possibly dreaming of a better life.
With me in it?
I don’t know.
I can only hope.
I check the time on my watch—it’s almost three in the morning.
My eyes are heavy, and this is getting a little ridiculous. I know she’s fine. She’s asleep, and nothing’s going to happen if I leave.
My eyes take her in one last time as my chest tightens. Leaving her is harder than I’d thought, but I have work tomorrow. Well, technically, it’s today. Actually, in a few hours, so I’d better get some sleep.
“Goodnight, Lyri… I’ll be back tomorrow. Sleep well,” I whisper, so I don’t wake her. I place my hand on her window in a last-ditch effort to be near her. I take a deep breath, then turn and head for my car.
I feel lighter somehow.
Tired but lighter.
Seeing her like that, red-eyed, wrecked, still trying to hold herself together, hit me harder than I expected. It gutted me. But she made it through. And even if she didn’t know I was there, I was. Watching. Making sure she was okay. That counts for something, even if only to me.
I don’t know what she thinks I am to her now.
But I know what she is to me, fucking everything.
And until she looks me in the eye and tells me to back off, I’m staying right here because when I give a damn, I don’t do it halfway.
I don’t walk away when things get messy.
I plant my feet, take the hits, and show up again the next day.
That’s what love looks like when it’s real, raw, relentless, and unapologetically mine.
And the way I feel about her? It doesn’t back down. It doesn’t fade.
I just need to find a way to make her see it.
Phase two starts now, with Dax at my side.
But until we pull it off, I’ll drive past her place at night.
Just once.
Just to know she’s there, safe, until lights out, and her world’s shut away.
It settles something in me. Quiets the storm in my chest, even if only for a moment.
Maybe it’s not the healthiest way to cope. But I’ve never claimed to be the poster boy for clean choices.
And hell, right now?
I’ll take whatever keeps me steady long enough to get her back.