Duchess (14 page)

“I don’t have the answer to any of your questions,” he finally said. “No one does, except you. Only you know why you feel these things.”

“But what if I don’t?”

“You will, someday.”

Katie just shook her head. She didn’t think she would ever understand her own feelings. That’s why she tried to avoid them most days. As long as she kept busy, she could avoid her thoughts and emotions.

She took a deep breath and allowed herself to close her eyes. Chase let her have this quiet moment, but he didn’t leave, either. It was nice knowing he was there, but she didn’t feel like she had to entertain him.

She listened to the waves lap up on the beach just a few feet away. She could hear the crackling of the fire. She could picture the flames dancing. Inhaling deeply, she could smell the salty ocean air and the smoke from the fire, but there was another smell. She sniffed the air again and recognized a burning smell.

Sitting up, she opened her eyes. Chase was still lying in the chair next to her. His eyes were closed, and he looked asleep. Katie looked down at the fire, and her eyes widened. Somehow, the fire had jumped onto Chase’s right pant leg. Flames engulfed his shoe and crept up his jeans.

Katie began throwing sand on his leg to put it out. But something seemed to be fueling the fire like gasoline, and it smelled like burning plastic.

“Chase! Wake up!”

Swearing, he stood, reached down, and pressed both sides of his leg right below his knee. Then he shook his leg.

“What are you doing?” Katie knew that by shaking his leg, he was just fanning the flames.

She stood up next to him to hold him still, but he began hopping backwards on one foot, and his right leg dropped onto the ground.

She stared at the burning leg lying on the sand and couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from her throat.

Chase pulled her away from the burning leg, then dropped onto the sand. He buried the empty pant leg in the sand to put out the flames.

Katie continued to scream. 

“Shh!” He reached up and grabbing her hand, pulled her down onto the beach beside him.

“It’s okay,” he said calmly. “It’s fake.”

She tried to calm down and listen to what he was saying, but nothing made sense. “Your leg!” Instead of screaming, now she was gasping for breath.

“I know.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “It’s okay. It’s not real.” 

Katie took a deep, gulping breath and tried to understand what he said. All she could manage to do was repeat him. “It’s not real?”

“That’s right.” He used a patient voice usually reserved for children. “It’s a prosthetic.”

“A prosthetic?” Again, she echoed him as she tried to process the information.

“Watch.” He crawled over to the smoldering leg and covered it in sand like he had done with his pant leg. When the fire was out, he held the smoking leg in the air.

Katie watched as something oozed off it. “Skin?” she gasped.

“No, it’s foam. See?” He held the leg closer, and she could see metal showing through the sand that was sticking to the oozing substance. “The metal part used to have foam around it. It was painted skin tone so it would look like a real leg.”

“Foam?” It all started to sink in. “A fake leg?” She looked at him, and suddenly something he said before came into her mind. “An old war injury?”

“Yes.” He went quiet, but seemed to wait expectantly for something, though she wasn’t sure what.

She looked at the smoke coming from the leg. Her hands began to tremble slightly as she thought about everything that had gone wrong in her life. First, she’d lost her brother in a war, then her father left, her mother was dying, and now a man’s leg caught on fire and fell off right in front of her. Laughter bubbled up inside. She tried to hold it in, but a snort escaped. Chase raised his eyebrow, and suddenly she couldn’t contain it any longer. The laughter exploded from deep inside, and there was no stopping it. She knew it was just nerves. Laughter and sarcasm seemed to be her go-to reactions when confronted with things she didn’t know how to handle. The worse part was that she didn’t know how to stop it.

“I guess I’ll be leaving now.” His voice was hard, and she couldn’t see any expression on his face at all. She knew she must have offended him and took a deep breath. She held the laughter down and tried to look serious.

“How?” She couldn’t help the giggle that came up all of a sudden.

As soon as the word was out, she slapped her hands over her mouth, and her eyes widened in disbelief. It was time to get a hold of herself.

“Wow. You’re real sensitive.” He pushed himself up onto his left leg.

She watched as he balanced and shook the sand off the prosthetic as much as he could. He inspected the cup part of the leg before reaching down and snapping his stump into it.

“Come on.” She took a deep breath. She was finally getting under control. “I’ll drive you home.”

Katie stood up and turned toward the house, but stopped when she realized he wasn’t following her. “What?”

“I don’t need your pity,” he said as he walked past her.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m only offering a ride then.” She went after him.

“Why? So you can laugh at me again? I don’t think so.” He sped up.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Katie said. He stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow at her. She shrugged before changing her response. “Okay, so I was laughing. But it’s my nervous reaction to things. Look, I’m really sorry.”

His expression was stony, and she had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. “I’m fine,” he said, then turned on his heel and walked away again.

“You’re not walking home.” She jogged to catch up with him as he bypassed the house and went along the beach toward the main road.

“I’m taking the bus.” His words were clipped.

“Let me drive you,” she pleaded, matching him stride for stride.

“Why?” he asked as he stopped walking. “You didn’t care how I got home before you found out that I’m a cripple.”

“Why? Because your leg just caught on fire! I mean, look at you!” She pointed down to his pant leg that had black burn marks all over it, and there were small chunks of melted foam falling off from his leg.

He gazed at her silently for a moment before walking away from her. She jogged up ahead of him and placed herself in his way.

He stopped, and suddenly, she didn’t know what to say. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Katie found herself drawn to him again like she had at the Hollywood Bowl. He stepped closer, and she gulped at the intensity of his gaze. How he made her heart pound with just one look, she wasn’t sure. Her nerves were on overdrive, and she looked away from his eyes and down at his leg. It still astounded her that she hadn’t known all this time that he had a prosthetic. He never once complained, even when they climbed all those stairs at the Bowl.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, bringing Katie’s gaze back to his. She saw only anger in his eyes as he stepped back and walked away from her again.

“Wait,” she started to say, but he interrupted her.

“Go home, Katie. I don’t need a nursemaid.”

He kept walking, and she let him go. 

Chapter Sixteen

Chase woke the next morning, realizing that he hadn’t relived his nightmares of war the night before. Instead, he’d been haunted by the sound of Katie’s laughter in his ears. Her callous reaction to his prosthetic leg reminded him of his ex-wife. He could still remember what Rebecca had said the day she left. “You don’t need a wife—you need a nursemaid. I didn’t sign up for this.” He vowed from that day forward never to need anyone again. That was when he’d learned about Veterans’ Aid, and the rest was history.

As he dressed, he snapped on his half-burnt leg, grateful the damage was mostly to the foam. He scraped off the rest of the melted fake skin to reveal the metal pole and changed the shoe. He was just glad it still worked and he didn’t have to try to get the VA to buy him a new leg. The amount of paperwork he had to fill out to get the first one gave him writer’s cramp just thinking about it. 

When he finished getting ready, his phone rang. He knew there was a high chance Amber was calling to get an explanation for his quick text message last night. He told her he was unequivocally done with the benefit concert. Then he’d ignored his phone the rest of the night.

Picking up the phone, he didn't recognize the number.

"Hello," he answered. There was a long pause, and he almost hung up before a voice finally came on.

"Hello? Is this Carter Chase?" a male voice he didn’t recognize asked.

"This is he."

"Um, Mr. Chase? You left a message for me on my voice mail. I'm James Murphy. Katie's father."

Chase had made some phone calls a couple of days before, using the information he'd gotten from Shirley. Now that he’d found the person he set out to find, he wasn't sure what to do, especially since he planned on staying as far away from Katie as possible. But could he really not grant Shirley's dying wish?

"Oh, yes. Thanks for calling me back." He took a breath and cleared his throat, then told this stranger that his ex-wife had cancer and his daughter needed him. It was quiet for a moment, and Chase thought the man had hung up.

"Hello?" Chase asked into the phone.

"I'm here," James answered, but paused again before speaking. "How long? I mean, how long does Shirley have?"

"Probably not long. Hospice has already been called in."

"Where are they living?"

"They live in Malibu. Katie is the manager for Duchess. Maybe you've heard of her?"

"That pop star who goes around in disguise?”

"That's the one. Katie runs everything for her so she can be incognito. Katie pretty much does all the work, and Duchess just shows up when it's convenient and won't blow her cover." He realized he was rambling and stopped. "Anyway, they live in Duchess’s mansion. It’s the least the woman can do for them."

James asked for the address, thanked him for calling, and then hung up. It wasn't until the line went dead that Chase realized James had no idea that Katie didn't even want to see him. He almost called the man back, but reminded himself it was none of his business. He didn't want to get involved further. He'd done what Shirley had asked him to do, and he didn't need to feel any more obligation.

Chase walked into Veterans’ Aid a little later. No one was behind the counter, and he realized he would probably never see Shirley’s smiling face greeting him there ever again. His shoulders drooped as he stared off at the empty space and thought of the good times. He was no stranger to the death of friends, but the thought of Shirley dying felt like losing a mother he’d never had. He hoped that seeing her ex-husband would help give her peace.

Stepping away from the counter, Chase continued toward the weights and noticed that Amber’s office was occupied. Katie sat across the desk. His whole body tensed just seeing her profile in the window. A slow smile came to his face as his breath quickened. Memories of her laughing at him the night before wiped the smile away. She was the last person he wanted to see. Realizing that she hadn’t seen him yet, he turned to leave and ran smack into Jones’ wheelchair.

“I’m ready for my workout.” Jones looked at up at him with an eagerness Chase hadn’t seen in the young man’s eyes before. It was a good sign that Jones was finally accepting his new reality, but all Chase could think about was getting out of there before Katie saw him.

“That’s great, Jones, but why don’t you try going solo? It will help you to work on your own …”

“Whoa!” Jones interrupted as he looked past Chase toward the office. “Who’s the hottie with Amber?”

Chase made the mistake of turning to follow Jones’ gaze. Katie was standing in the doorway and staring straight at him with a crooked smile on her face.

“She’s no one,” Chase answered quickly as he got behind Jones’ wheelchair and began to push him toward the weights. “Let’s hurry—we’re late for your workout.” Chase hoped Katie would see that he was busy and leave him alone.

“She didn’t look like no one.” Jones wouldn’t let the subject drop. “In fact, she looked like she knew exactly who you were.”

"Chase."

He looked up to see Amber glaring at him. He could tell she'd gotten his message. Behind her stood Katie. Chase tried to look for pity in her eyes, but instead, he saw smug satisfaction, which confused him.

"What's up?" He tried to sound unconcerned.

"What's up? Really, Chase? I get this abrupt message saying you refuse to help with the concert anymore, I'm thinking something is wrong, like you're sick or hurt, yet here you are,” Amber laid into him.

"I'm not sick, Amber. Everything's fine.” He tried to calm her down, but before he could say anything else, Amber continued.

“Everything is
not
fine. I called Katie and found out that you caught on fire last night.” Her voice went high-pitched, and everyone in the weight area turned to stare at him.

“Dude, you were on fire? Like real fire, with flames and everything?” Chase had forgotten that he still hung onto Jones’ wheelchair.

“Yes, well, no. It was my prosthetic—no big deal. I’m not hurt or sick. I just don't think I'm the right person to help with the concert, that's all. Let Katie handle it. She knows what she's doing. It'll be fine." He glanced at Katie to find that her mysterious smile hadn’t left her face.

"That's your idea? Just let Katie handle it? Doesn’t she have enough to deal with? Besides being the manager of a major pop star and, in case you didn't know, her mother is dying, and you want to drop the ball and just let her do it all? I thought you had more compassion than that.”

"Look, it's not that I don't want to help. I just think that maybe you should take over. Katie's your friend. You should be the one to be there for her. And it was your idea to have the benefit concert in the first place. You know what you want."

Instead of Amber answering, Katie stepped up toward him.

"So now you're pushing it onto Amber’s shoulders? Like she doesn’t have enough to do with a husband and three kids and this charity?"