Page 63 of Mine Forever
And even if they did, it’s doubtful Heather would have stood up for Chase. Especially if it would give her negative attention.
Dear Lord, please don’t strike me down for thinking ill of the dead.
Then there’s Ty Richardson. Unfortunately, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s involved in all of this.
Because if anyone should feel guilty about how the situation played out, it’s that asshole. But knowing how he is, I’m positive he doesn’t feel one ounce of regret or remorse.
Maybe he’d be a better baseball player if he wasn’t so busy screwing other guys’ wives.
I toss and turn for a bit longer, until finally around one o’clock, I’m sick of lying in bed.
Anxiety makes the walls close in, and the need to get out of this room is a priority.
Opening the door, I listen for Chase.
Other than the storm noise, it’s quiet. I tiptoe out and shut the door quietly behind me.
The tile beneath my feet is freezing as I move quickly toward the open living space where Chase is lying on the couch.
A couch way too small for a man his size. His feet hang off one end, and one arm hangs down toward the floor.
But his soft snores keep me moving quietly as I continue a tour of the house.
I cross through the kitchen and head down a darkened hallway. There’s an elevator, a room that looks like an office, and a single door at the end of the hall.
Curious, I turn the knob, and the door opens to an enclosed staircase leading down into darkness.
Fear skitters down my spine, and every bad horror movie I’ve ever watched runs through my head.
Chuckling, I roll my eyes at my melodramatics and flip on the lights. When I get to the bottom of the staircase, my jaw drops.
Holy shit.
There’s a whole other house down here. Living room,kitchen, small eating area off the kitchen, and other rooms down a hallway.
I peek in the first room and turn on the lights. The huge space is full of state-of-the-art gym equipment.
So, this is how Chase stays in such great shape.
Every piece of exercise equipment needed for arms, legs, and any other muscle group is arranged circuit style.
Along the mirrored wall are racks of weighted plates and dumbbells. In the back corner is an open area with mats that are perfect for yoga.
“Ah, yes. Maybe some yoga will help me sleep.”
I choose a mat and sit cross-legged on it, closing my eyes, focusing on my breathing.
The tension in my body begins to dissipate with each breath.
In this space, away from Chase, away from being able to hear the storm outside, I can finally relax.
Usually, I follow a yoga sequence I know in my head, making sure I do each and every one properly.
But right now? That sounds exhausting, so I just let my body decide what feels good.
Thoughts of the charity event and what’ll happen if I royally fuck it up try to invade my peace, but I push on them until they quiet down to a dull roar.
Keeping my eyes closed, I lift my arms and stretch side to side.
