What he found was Rupert Cole. He was sitting at the bar, going through the mail, when he looked up and saw Chase standing in the doorway. He waited for his approach before giving him a gruff nod. He knew it was only a matter of time before the boy came here looking for her.
“Chase,” Rupert said curtly.
They sized each other up. Rupert was smooth, polished, always prudent, never raised his voice. Chase wondered just what the man knew, what Amanda had told him, and how he felt about it.
“I need to find Amanda.”
Rupert’s expression remained impassive as he studied his would-be future son-in-law. “I have to give you credit. For someone who’s caused so much havoc for my daughter, you certainly aren’t afraid to step up to the plate.”
“I love her beyond reason. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am about this,” Chase told him, shaking his head before looking uncomfortably away and down at his shoes, shuffling his feet. It was a gesture so genuinely humble and full of remorse, Rupert had to take a second to remember that who he was dealing with was not only a grown man, but an influential one.
“Let me just start out by saying, if I thought for one minute you hurt my daughter, there is no one on this planet who would be able to save you. But Amanda assures me that’s not the case, and I believe her. That having been said, I’d still like to know how the hell this mess happened.”
“Some scumbag from the stadium’s security department caught it on a hidden camera, looped it, and peddled it to some gossip rag. He’s been fired, the Kings are pressing charges, as am I, but I’m afraid the damage has been done.”
Rupert got up, went behind the bar, and poured himself a scotch, offering one to Chase, which he politely refused. “Ah yes, the damage. You know, Chase, when it became apparent that you and Amanda were becoming serious, the hardest thing for her to cope with was the constant attention. While I’m sure you have been used to it for quite a while, it was all new to her. Her privacy was something she didn’t want to give up. But she always maintained that you were worth it, and the more we got to know you, the more inclined we were to agree.” His eyes took on a wistful look, as if he were recalling a time long ago, and he went on. “You know, in all of her life, there was only one time I spanked Amanda. Funny, I can’t even remember what it was for. But I will never forget the look on her face when it was over, those big sad eyes so bewildered. I could tell that she wasn’t able to reconcile the love with the pain. I knew I would never be able to spank her again. But she was a good girl, and lucky for us both, she spared me ever having to agonize over that choice again.” He came back to the present and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. “Her mother, however, is an entirely different matter. There has been more than one occasion when I thought a good old-fashioned spanking would have benefited her immensely.” He gave Chase a little wink, and the tension eased between them.
“I have seen the footage,” Rupert concluded diplomatically. “And it didn’t look like she was having too much trouble with reconciliation.”
“You know where she is, Rupert. Please tell me.”
The man took on a look of true compassion, laid both his hands on the bar, and waged the battle of the decision.
“Look, Chase. I like you. You’re a good kid. Do I think Amanda is making too much of this? Yes, I do. Do I think the longer she stays away, the bigger she makes the problem? You bet. But only she can decide how and when she can make peace with this. She was always so concerned about doing the right thing, making a good impression. I love her with all my heart, and her happiness is my only concern. I can tell you that she’s been in touch and that she’s safe, but I’m sorry, son, I can’t tell you where she is.”
Chase’s shoulders slumped, dejected. He understood Rupert’s hidden message. He knew exactly where his daughter was. The last road to Amanda had effectively been blocked. He stood up and made his way out the door. He still had a game to play. The one constant, where he still felt in control and at the same time could take a break from the calamity his life had become. He needed to leave it all behind and get back on the field. Before he got to the door, he heard Rupert’s voice, in a tone that reminded him of his own father.
“Hang in there, Chase, she’s worth it, too.”
He went back to his car, pounded the steering wheel until the horn went off, and let out a broken sigh.
CHAPTER 14
AMANDA SAT ALONE on the nearly deserted beach. September in the Outer Banks of North Carolina brought with it a certain measure of seclusion, especially midweek. Families were sending children back to school but would return for the weekends to grab the last remnants of summer. Other seasonal houses were boarded up and battened down in the hopes of withstanding any potential storms. The remaining full-time residents randomly roamed the beaches. They all politely greeted Amanda in passing when they encountered her and returned to going about their business. At least she stopped thinking in terms of every interaction as an aspersion cast upon her. It was a relief. She had been wearing her guilt as a mask that she couldn’t take off. Every person who crossed her path became her judge, jury, and executioner. Even the feeding gulls and egrets sounded like they were laughing at her. Every trip to the supermarket was an exercise in how to handle a panic attack. Amanda felt she had made great strides by refusing to give in to the voice in her head telling her to wear a wig, but she did don a hat and sunglasses. It took her at least five days to get over the feeling that she was constantly being watched or followed. But she never walked with her head down because that just wasn’t in her nature. She may have been beaten, but she wasn’t broken. Or was it the other way around?
Now, two weeks later, Amanda occupied her same spot in the sand, her knees up and arms wrapped around them. She watched the changing of the tide, wave after wave washing onto shore, cleansing the beach. If only the waves of her varying emotions could be so dependable. She tried to assume a pose conducive to meditation, as she had every day she claimed her spot, but it was still a waste of time. She started with the best intentions; was sick and tired of being sick and tired. It was time to think on the matter logically and rationally. It didn’t take long before she was daydreaming, reliving, and rehashing.
The first week had been the worst. Like a rubbernecker unable to keep from looking at the crash despite the severed head rolling across the road, when she got to the spacious, airy house, she immediately turned on the television. With a false sense of security created by the distance between her and New York, she surfed the channels, tearing her eyes away only when the actual tape was being shown. But then she found herself searching it out, not to watch a careless moment forever memorialized, but to see him. And see him before her reckless disregard for his reputation ruined it all for both of them. But there were way too many brief glimpses of him coming in or out of his apartment surrounded by security, unsmiling and dogged. She was grateful she didn’t have access to his games. Either he would appear cheerful and not tortured like she was, which would cut her to the core, even if he was acting. Or he would be disturbed and his numbers would show it, and then she would know she had managed to destroy the only other thing he’d ever loved.