Chapter 13 – Sage #2
It’s Christmas Day, and Chase got in late last night after he had quote, ‘business to take care of’ the past few days.
He sent his goons with me to my parents.
At least the two creepy men drove in their own vehicle.
They barely speak and tend to stare at me as if I’m meat on a stick and they haven’t had a meal in days .
I have no doubt that the word ‘no’ means shit to them.
I push the green bean casserole around my plate with my fork and shrug.
“You’re always hungry. Eat.”
My grip on the utensil tightens, and I stifle the urge to stab him in the eye.
I force myself to take a bite, not because he ‘ordered’ me to, but because I can feel my mother’s questioning stare our way.
“So, Chase,” she says, giving him her infamous icy stare down.
She’s hated him since the moment they met the day before our wedding.
She hated him because he refused to ‘allow’ me to come visit them.
She hated him because she knew he was controlling me, but she couldn’t convince me to leave him.
When we got divorced, she just had to throw it in my face that she ‘always knew something was off with him.’
I love my mother, I really do, but she’s not one to hold back her opinions.
She’s vocal about everything . But she also supported me in all my life decisions, even if they weren’t the best options for me.
Then she was there when I’d run back to them with my tail between my legs because something didn’t work out the way I planned.
Like my marriage.
I met Chase when I was twenty-one and he was thirty.
I moved to New York City to ‘find myself’ and was bartending at a hole in the wall dive bar in the East Village.
Chase’s band had booked a gig there. We immediately clicked and hooked up, and the next morning he asked me to go on tour with him.
I was young and restless and had no real responsibilities.
I was renting a dump of an apartment on a monthly basis and had enough money saved to fuck around for a few years, so I went with him.
I followed him around the country with his band for two years until his mom got sick, and he left the band to take care of her.
I went with him to New Jersey because I convinced myself I was in love.
He proposed to me a year later, and after a year-long engagement, we got married. Six months after the ceremony, his mother passed away.
Things went downhill after that.
I missed all the signs of him being a narcissist. It was always me taking care of him.
He constantly demanded my attention, my company.
I always thought it was because he was stressed about his mother and needed an escape.
It got to a point where he’d get angry when I tried to go to the grocery store without him or when I wanted to hang out with a friend for a movie night.
He dismissed my feelings, especially when I expressed how much I missed my parents and wanted to go visit them.
The final straw was when he lost his job at the mechanic shop.
He didn’t tell me we were struggling for money because he’d spent our paychecks on drugs, anything to numb the pain of his mother’s death.
Bills went unpaid, and I had to get a second job just to keep the lights on.
Then I found out he used my identity and applied for five credit cards, maxing out each one.
He didn’t stop with me. He realized he could make a lot of money stealing identities, especially those of elderly people. I told Noah he went to jail, but I lied. He never got caught. He just kept doing worse and worse things.
And I never turned him in.
I was too afraid of what he’d do to me.
What if I turned him in and he made bail? He would have killed me.
Instead, I served him divorce papers. I was surprised he signed them. He didn’t even put up a fight. Turns out, he was cheating on me. He was more than willing to leave me for this other woman.
Once everything was finalized, I moved back to New York City and assumed a new identity in hopes to never see the asshole again. Sage Morgan no longer existed as far as I was concerned.
It didn’t matter how big New York City is... Chase still found me.
“What are you doing for work these days?” Mom asks.
My throat dries out, and I choke on the bite of green bean casserole I just shoved into my mouth. I wash the food down with a sip of wine .
Okay, it wasn’t a sip. I gulped down the entire glass and refilled it to the brim.
I can’t be sober for this.
Chase slaps on that charming smile that most people fall for. Like my father. At our wedding reception, they talked sports and action movies and whatever else men find pleasure in.
It was all an act.
Chase hated sports.
He never watched movies with me.
“I’m actually running my own business.”
Chase’s spell doesn’t work on my mom, though. She raises a brow, waiting for him to elaborate.
“International shipping, mostly. I make sure my clients’ cargo is delivered on time and with no issues.”
My stomach sours and the green beans are threatening to make a reappearance.
“Hmm,” my mom says.
I hold my breath, waiting for her to ask him exactly what he ships, but thankfully she doesn’t.
However, she’s not done grilling us.
“So, are you two back together?”
“No,” I immediately bark out the same time Chase says, “yes.”
Mom startles at my outburst, her hand over her chest. I glance at my dad, and he’s peering over the top of the book he’s reading in one hand with a fork full of food in the other.
He’s never been much to talk during family dinners.
My mother is the outgoing one whereas my father would prefer quiet.
He never voiced his dislike for Chase after the divorce, but Mom told me he was furious.
If only he knew how bad it was.
Chase’s hand falls to my leg, and he squeezes my thigh hard enough that I’m sure more bruises will be left.
“We’re not back together... yet,” he says through gritted teeth.
Before I can risk more bruises and vehemently deny that we aren’t, and never will be, getting back together, Chase’s phone rings.
He’s been getting calls all day, ever since I finally told him what went down at Lenetti’s dinner.
Since Chase already knew that the Empire and the QBM wanted to bring the Lords of Staten Island down, I told him they were planning to make their move soon. I didn’t know the exact date or the details of that plan, and thankfully Chase didn’t push me for that information.
He probably wants to warn the Lords so a gun fight can break out since his goal is to be New York City’s top crime boss.
If the Lords kill Carter and Lenetti, then that’s two mafias down for the count, he’d said.
I also remembered Noah talking about sex trafficking and lied about a shipment interception taking place this weekend.
I didn’t say where or what was in the shipment.
Chase was sent into full blown panic, and he’s been on the phone barking orders at people ever since.
His reaction only confirms he’s dealing in something much worse than guns and drugs.
I have no doubt now that he was behind the sex trafficking rings the news has been reporting about lately. I just saw one was busted on Long Island the other day.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this call,” Chase says and leaves the table.
I should follow him. I may have lied about Elias busting a shipment, but if Chase really does have one coming in, I can find out where.
Then once Chase leaves, I’ll call Elias to tell him everything.
I just hope he doesn't think I’m playing both sides.