Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Andre laughed, his black teeth flashing just a few feet away as he held his paunchy stomach.
Chase's world went red.
No thought. Pure instinct.
His fist connected with Andre's jaw in a sharp, decisive punch that snapped Andre's head back. The crack of knuckles against bone rang out like a gunshot.
Andre staggered, then lunged forward. His crew—three large guys in tight shirts—surged around Chase and Raul. Fists flew. Boots kicked. The party atmosphere shattered into chaos.
A scream cut through the violence. "Chase!" Jewel's voice.
The millisecond Chase turned, seeking her face, Andre landed a brutal hit directly on his eye. Pain exploded in white light, and his head rang as he roared in outrage. Chase lunged, taking Andre to the ground.
Before Andre's friends could press their advantage, Parker and Nick joined in. The former Marine clotheslined one of Andre's crew with one meaty arm, sending him sprawling. Parker moved with a precise, controlled aggression that suggested years of martial arts training.
The odds shifted, now four against four, but Andre's crew were considerably more reckless and drunk.
The crowd yelled around them, but Chase didn't stop until he had Andre pinned, face first in the dirt, forearm across his head. "You motherfucker," Chase growled, shoving his head harder. "You piece of shit. You killed her, left her there, left us all there."
Chase pulled back and delivered another punch, the sound of Andre's cheekbone crunching under his fist. Andre let out a scream and then went limp, unconscious. Chase breathed heavily, his hand poised for another hit, ready for when Andre woke up.
As quickly as it started, it ended. A soft hand on his shoulder gave him pause, and he glanced up to find two deputies already cuffing the men that Parker and Nick held. He glanced up to see his brother staring down at him, eyebrow raised.
Andre moaned beneath him, trying to push up with his head, but Chase kept him pinned. He swallowed hard, nostrils flaring.
"Gonna let me cuff him?" Gunner asked drolly.
"Cuffs! Fuck that—" Andre murmured until Chase pushed his mouth into the dirt as he shifted, moving his knees from Andre to the ground, but not letting go of the motherfucker's face.
Gunner slapped the cuffs on him, the sight of them triggering a memory of when he'd first been arrested. He remained on the ground as his brother hauled Andre to his feet. Chase looked around, finally taking in the scene around them. The others were being arrested, Nick was grinning wildly and talking to one of the arresting officers while Parker was straightening his barely ruffled costume. Tasha waved her hands, explaining to his brother, the sheriff, what had just happened.
He looked for Jewel, but with the press of the crowd, he couldn't find her. In that moment, he realized how important she was to him.
Not only did he love her, but he turned to her for support first.
Tasha stepped forward, her voice sharp and decisive as she pointed a finger at Andre. "He just admitted it to everyone—oh God, he was the one driving that night, not Chase."
Chase felt Raul's hand on his other shoulder, steadying him. His eye throbbed, already closing, and warm blood trickled down his cheek. The world swam in and out of focus, and his muscles shook with adrenaline.
"I got you," Raul murmured, his voice a familiar anchor from their shared prison history, his arm going around Chase's waist like so many times in their past.
Jewel was suddenly there, her hands gentle but firm as she stepped in front of him, her hands raising to his face with a wince. Relief flooded him as he took in her worried expression. She was alright. She was here.
His body shook more as she cupped his cheek, tears shining in her eyes.
"Come on," she whispered, her touch more healing than any first aid. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Goldie stepped forward, her professional demeanor cutting through the chaos. "I'll stay and handle this," she said to Chase, her eyes flicking between him and Gunner. "Make sure everything's documented properly."
"If we're on the report…" Chase mumbled, and Goldie nodded, her expression hardening.
"Exactly why I'm going to the station. Parker, Nick, you're coming with me."
"Yes, ma'am." Nick saluted.
Parker grinned, his lip split and bleeding, a wild-eyed look so reminiscent of their childhood making Chase chuckle. He practically bounced on his feet with excitement. "Damn, I can't believe Andre admitted it and swung first," Parker said, elbowing Nick in the side.
Nick rubbed his jaw and gave an exaggerated wink at Chase. "Talk about a dumbass, swinging like that."
Chase's body vibrated with adrenaline and shock. He—they were going to lie for him. They had his back, they believed in him… to feel so much support, not just from Nick and Parker but from Jewel, Jade, Goldie, and everyone else who watched them walk away…
His eyes burned with emotion. Jewel guided them through the parking lot, and Raul held him, a silent shadow of support even though Chase could walk perfectly fine on his own.
The night air seeped beneath his skin with every step—cool, crisp, a stark contrast to the heated violence of moments before. In the distance, he could hear Gunner reading Andre his rights.
"Fuck, this is some party. You always did have a talent for finding trouble," Raul murmured.
Chase chuckled, his head pulsing. "Trouble just finds me. I certainly don't go looking for it. It was a normal Halloween party until you showed up. Weddings, fights, arrests, people getting high and drunk off their asses. Nothing new, from what I hear. Welcome to Crimson Creek."
Chase gave Raul his phone number as he climbed into Jewel's passenger seat. "You have a place to stay? A ride?"
Raul shrugged. "Living in my car at the moment. I'm fresh out, Lord Chaslemagne."
Chase chuckled at the old character name, holding his ribs with a wince. "Alright, you got a phone? GPS? Or you want to follow us?"
"Follow you where?" Raul asked, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, forehead wrinkled in a frown.
"Back to our house," Chase said, head swinging to Jewel and making him dizzy. He held a hand to his head as he asked, "Is that alright?"
"Of course," Jewel said as she shut the driver's side door and started the engine. "There's plenty of room for a few days."
Raul's eyes found Chase's in the soft interior light of the truck, surprise and gratitude warring in his dark gaze. Chase grunted and shifted on the seat so he could close the door.
"Just get in your fucking car and follow us, dipshit."
"Right away, my liege." Raul chuckled and shut the door, striding through the parking lot. Chase saw him wipe at his face, and his own throat closed up.
He turned to Jewel, frowning. "I'm sorry, I didn't plan any of this. I know Destini's moving in next weekend. I'll find a place for him to stay before?—"
Her hand on his knee stopped him. "We'll figure it out," she said softly. "He had your back tonight, and it seemed like it wasn't the first time. Do you want to go to the hospital first or?—"
Chase winced and shook his head. "No, I just want to go home."
"That's a pretty nasty head wound that's still pouring. If I can't get it patched up, I'm taking you in."
Chase knew better than to argue with Jewel when her voice took on that tone—part medical professional, part stubborn partner. He leaned back against the seat, the dried blood crackling against his skin. Jewel's hand found his, her fingers interlacing with his own, and he drew comfort from her presence.
Jewel's eyes were soft in the moonlight, concern etched across her features as she parked in the driveway. "You okay?" she asked.
Raul pulled up behind them in an old sedan, parking carefully in the gravel driveway.
"I will be," he said. "I'm worried about how this is going to affect Destini when she moves in. If it all gets dragged up again?—"
"We'll weather it together," she said softly, firmly, brooking no argument as she opened her door and got out.
A part of him sank into the seat in relief at her words. He was still afraid she was going to run out again. After they'd saved the dog from Andre, he'd told her she was the only one he'd ever wanted. Then she'd run away.
It was what had been keeping those three little words locked up inside him, that knowledge that if he admitted it, she'd run again.
But her words tonight… maybe she—and therefore Destini—had decided to stick around for good. His eye stung behind the eye patch as tears threatened, and he sniffed.
Raul walked around the truck, silhouetted against the moonlight, waiting at the hood for them to go inside. His presence felt both strange and comforting—a ghost from Chase's past suddenly materialized in his present.
Chase exited the truck, his muscles and joints aching, but his body still humming with energy.
Raul slung his backpack over one shoulder. "So this is home?"
A sense of pride filled him, making the knot of emotions in his throat even thicker. He'd worked nearly around the clock for a week to clean the house and get them all moved in, ever since they'd returned from Houston.
"Thank fuck I finished moving everything in this week because I'm not going to be lifting anything for a while. Fucking bruised ribs."
The house stood quiet and dark, a sentinel against the night's chaos as they walked up the broken sidewalk. Chase's new beginning, solid and waiting, welcomed them all, a haven for broken people and—if Jewel had her way—broken animals.
He pulled the keys out of his pocket and opened the door, waving Raul inside. "Then again, I want to begin how I intend to end."
He grabbed Jewel's arm and tucked her stomach into his shoulder, lifting and wrapping his arms around her naked thighs, the cop's dress sliding up and barely covering her ass.
She shrieked, her hands going to his shoulders. "Chase! What are you doing?"
He grinned and spanked her ass as he stepped them over the threshold before setting her gently on her feet in the foyer. "What? I wanted to carry you over the threshold and welcome you home properly. Is that too much to ask?"
He stood staring down at her with one eye, the other already swollen shut. Her eyes softened and her hands squeezed his biceps, her mouth working open and closed in surprise. His chest ached, half afraid that she'd run away from the significance of this moment, so he cleared his throat.
"Now, where do you want to patch me up at? Kitchen table?"
She licked her lips and nodded, saying softly, "Yeah, let me grab my bag from the study."
He bent down and gave her a swift, hard kiss to her lips. Even with the sting of a split lip, he wanted to linger in the softness of her mouth. She was the only welcome home he'd ever needed, a balm to his bruised and battered soul.
She broke the kiss, stepping back with a hand on her lips before spinning on her heels and half-running down the hall to the study.
"So," Raul said, his voice low. "You and the lady?"
Chase's good eye met Raul's. A lifetime of communication passed between them. The protective energy between them was palpable—a bond forged in the crucible of shared survival. Prison friendships were different. Deeper. More primal.
Chase said, "We have a fifteen-year-old daughter. She'll be moving in next weekend."
Raul's brows rose, hitching his backpack higher. "I'll be long gone by then and out of your hair, don't worry. Where can I crash? That couch looks comfy."
He sighed and strode through the living room to the kitchen. "Probably the guest room upstairs but come to the kitchen first. She'll want to look you over too. She's a vet and used to stitching up animals like us."
Jewel came into the kitchen as he sank into a chair at the table, frowning as she set an emergency kit on the table. "You're not animals, even if you're both filthy from rolling around on the ground."
She pulled a bottle from the bag and set two pills in front of each of them before hurrying to the cabinets, opening and closing each one before finding the cups.
"Water might be all there is. I've not done anything but the bare minimum for grocery shopping," Chase said.
"Water's fine," Raul said, accepting the cup from Jewel with a thanks. "Honestly, a roof is more than I expected. Thank you both."
Jewel pulled out a bottle of alcohol and gauze, dabbing at his head softly. He tried not to wince, but it was difficult. The smell of her mixed with the dirt on his clothes and the antiseptic.
He pulled his mind away from her and to the conversation. "I furnished a room upstairs for me. Destini's room is done, as is the master bedroom. You can stay in my room."
"Oh no, I couldn't possibly. That couch looked comfy enough."
Jewel frowned, glancing at Raul and pausing her ministrations. "You can stay in Chase's room. He'll sleep with me in mine. I want to keep an eye on him tonight with this head wound."
Chase caught Raul's gaze across the table as Jewel turned to toss the pink gauze in the trash. Raul wiggled his eyebrows dramatically, and Chase grinned, crossing his arms.
Chase watched her, memorizing every detail—the way her hair fell across her forehead, the concentration in her eyes, the slight furrow between her brows.
Raul cleared his throat. "So. A teenage daughter. That's... unexpected."
Chase's good eye never left Jewel. "Long story."
"I've got time," Raul said, leaning back in the chair.
Jewel paused, antiseptic-soaked gauze hovering near Chase's split eyebrow. "You want to tell it?"
Chase exhaled. "Not tonight."
Raul nodded, understanding passing between them. Some stories weren't meant for first nights, for strangers, for moments right after violence.
"Tell me about how y'all met then," Jewel said, her tone no-nonsense and mixed with the soft sounds of cleaning Chase's wounds. Her touch was gentle but precise, her medical training clear in every careful dab and bandage placement.
"Prison," Chase said simply.
She snorted. "No shit."
Raul chimed in. "It's not exactly a meet-cute story. More like a need for survival."
Chase grunted. The memories rushed back—concrete walls, the constant noise, the suffocating smell of too many men packed into too small a space. Their first interaction hadn't been friendship, but survival.
"He saved my life," Chase said simply.
Raul laughed, a sharp bark that didn't reach his eyes. "More like we saved each other. It was exactly like the characters we played, except instead of meeting at a tavern to find a group of adventurers to do a job, we…" Raul grew silent, his brows furrowing as memories or thought hit him.
Chase shrugged, watching with a strange sort of detachment as Jewel threaded a needle for stitches. His stomach twisted in anticipation as she sprayed something onto the open cut on his forehead.
"We met a group of fellow nerds who'd simply made a mistake or two and wanted—needed—to survive prison. We banded together to form our own gang," Raul finally said.
Jewel's brows rose, and Chase chuckled, trying to set her at ease. "It wasn't a real gang. We didn't accept many new members, didn't cause trouble, and stuck to ourselves when possible."
"We sure as shit would stop trouble though, just like tonight," Raul said. He continued the story, painting them both as more than they were. Chase knew he was doing it for Jewel's benefit, but he didn't correct Raul on any of it.
Deep down, he wanted Jewel to accept him, and if it took a fellow prison inmate stretching the truth slightly, he'd take it.
The more he watched her the more he burned, needing to claim her in this house and show them both that they were home, right where they belonged. That she still had on that sexy little cop uniform had him sitting uncomfortably on the chair. He welcomed the stinging pain of each stitch, although the numbing spray had helped. It was more than they'd had in prison.