Page 17 of Chad's Chase

FOUR

T’was Grace that taught my heart to fear…

JHAY

To avoid having to lay it to the blonde stripper that I couldn’t really take her home with me because I already had a blonde home waiting for me, I got dressed ten minutes before closing time and loafed around in the customers’ bathroom so she’d think I quit early.

Once all the dancers had left, I exited the bathroom and ambled at my own pace through the now empty club, chin-lifting a “night-night” to the securities preparing to shut down.

Neither Chad nor his bodyguards were around, and I felt a little at ease that he’d already left, because I was still a tad shaken up from my failed attempt to poison him earlier. At this point, all I wanted to do was recklessly speed home, wrap my weary body around Sydney’s, fall asleep, and never wake up.

I was just so tired. Of life. Of everything.

In the almost empty parking lot at the side of the club, I keyed my car open and eased into the bucket seat behind the steering wheel. But when I hit ‘Start Engine’, the car wouldn’t start.

Brand new car. Niiveux. Bought six months ago. Gas tank on F. Yet the car wouldn’t start.

Gotta be kidding me.

Yanking on the lever below to pop the hood, I climbed out and rounded the car to assess what the shitting hell was going on. Obviously someone had fucked with my car. A brand new Niiveux didn’t just ‘not start’. They were faultless top-of-the-line vehicles that would take a crash or bomb explosion to devalue.

In the minute I raised the hood and peered over to examine, I sensed someone behind me. Great, some sorry ass punk was going to try raping me in the parking lot. And I, unfortunately, would have to rip his seedy balls off and feed them to him.

I so didn’t plan on killing anyone tonight—well, anyone who’snotChad. But hey, this might take the edge off so I wouldn’t end my night feeling like a worthless shithead.

Remaining bent over the car like any other unsuspecting, air-headed, plastic-tits pole swinger, I gave the attacker time to get closer, teasing him with the smell of victory. Victory he would never taste.

When he was a calculated foot away from me, in practiced speed I slammed down the hood of the car, whirled around and slid my ass up on the hood, drew my legs back, then slammed them forward so they connected, hard, solid and forceful on the attacker’s chest.

He let out a distressed groan and stumbled back from the strong impact of my boots. But I gave him no time to recover as I swiftly launched off the hood and whirl-kicked him across the face, an “umnf” leaving him. Catching my balance, I did it again. Balance, then repeat.

The attacker stumbled back with each kick, suppressing his grunts of pain. And like a raging blind bat out of hell, I was charging too fast in the darkness to see which idiot it was. This double-assed fool was going to die tonight. For messing with the wrong fake stripper. Because the anger from my failure tonight, failure for the past six months, failure of my entire existence, was all there on the surface, fueling me. So he couldn’t have picked a worse time to fuck with me. If I’d had a weapon on me, he’d be fish-out-of-water dead already.

Beating him to death was just as good, though. The rush was greater; the adrenalin a sweet, sweet high. Squatting slightly at the knees, I grinned like a possessed maniac and charged forward, knocking the sucker flat on his back. Promptly straddling him, I reached down and grabbed his head firmly in my hands to snap his neck. Sharp, quick and to the point…but that’s when I recognized him.

Chad.

Fucking hell.

Why would he try to attack me?

Face only half-lit by the splice of light peeking around the side of the club, lip busted and bleeding, red bruises on both cheekbones, he stared up at me with a calm, stout-heartedness, saying nothing.

Even with the mess his face was at the moment, he was…heck, I had to admit, detrimentally beautiful.

My bottom lip parted ways with the upper one to let out a shaky gasp. A gasp of awe and admiration. I had the sudden urge to orgasm. Long and hard.

Snap his neck, Jhay. This is it. So easy. Do the job. Snap his goddamn neck!

This man, this spell-casting man, wasn’t even begging for his life. Nor did he display even a hint of fear. All he did was stare up at me with intense curiosity, and…was thatlust?

Snap. His. Neck. Jhay! If you want your freedom, kill the asshole, now.

Time stopped, and all we did was stare at each other. No breaths. No words. No threats.

And then I did the unthinkable.

I lowered my head, and kissed him. Fucking kissed him. Mytarget.