CHASING US

  ELLA GOODE

  CONTENTS

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Frank

  Chapter 2

  Melody

  Chapter 3

  Frank

  Chapter 4

  Melody

  Chapter 5

  Frank

  Chapter 6

  Melody

  Chapter 7

  Frank

  Chapter 8

  Melody

  Chapter 9

  Frank

  Chapter 10

  Melody

  Chapter 11

  Frank

  Chapter 12

  Melody

  Chapter 13

  Frank

  Chapter 14

  Melody

  Chapter 15

  Frank

  Chapter 16

  Melody

  Chapter 17

  Frank

  Chapter 18

  Melody

  Chapter 19

  Frank

  Epilogue

  Chasing You

  Vincent

  Also by Ella Goode

  SUMMARY

  Melody

  Men say women are the weaker sex but would a man have kept writing to his crush after years of silence from said crush? No! He would’ve given that up and moved on! Instead, I powered forward, writing letter after letter to Benson Charles as he served our country. Sure, he might’ve been mad that when we were ten, I named him Biscuit, but honestly, is that something to hold a grudge over for a decade? He’s back in town and say he’s here for good and I'm going to be his. He says it’s to protect me from a serial killer who is hurting Harrisville citizens and truthfully, I think I have a better chance at finding the serial killer than I do of keeping my heart intact.

  Frank

  Trying to get a woman to forget the past is harder than pushing an elephant through a needle’s eye. Pretty sure that’s like the eleventh commandment. Here’s the deal though, Melody did write me a boat load of letters and yes, I read them like a lifeline to get me through each day. I should’ve answered them but I’m a piss poor writer surrounded by other stupid men. I kept my mouth shut with the theory that action speak louder than words only I spent so many years up in the sky for the Navy while she was at college that I didn’t have time to show Melody I loved her. Things are different now but in between trying to convince Melody that my intentions are serious, I have to catch a serial killer.

  CHAPTER 1

  FRANK

  “Biscuit!” I wasn’t prepared for Melody to throw herself in my arms. I also didn’t think she’d slap me. Both happened so quickly that I’m a little off center. I rub my cheek and stare after the blonde who is disappearing into the crowd.

  “What happened?” asks my partner, Vincent.

  “Hell if I know,” I reply. I figured she’d ignore me because I hadn’t written back to her. Over the years, she’d send me a letter now and then, keeping me up to date on the stuff happening here in town. I’d compose replies in my head like I’d make a shit-ass partner for someone like you since half my missions are secrets and If another guy ever looks at you longer than two seconds, I’m taking his eyes and Good thing you admitted that George was your neighbor’s Rottweiler because I was about to come home and murder someone, but they never made it onto the paper.

  I’m not real good with words anyway. I’m a hands-on guy. In the Navy, I serve as a wizzo, a weapons systems officer. I sit behind the pilot, provide targeting information, and shoot down enemy aircraft. The last part we do in secret since technically we’re not at war with anyone. Unofficially, though, we’ve been sent on missions that require firepower. Not that we can tell anyone about it. The Navy’s changing. While there are a few missions that still require human pilots and wizzos, more and more of these tasks are carried out by drones.

  Vincent and I are on extended leave because neither of us want to teach, which is basically the future of the pilots in the program. I’d rather let an F-14 run over me than have to stand in front of a bunch of newbies telling them how to fly their fake planes.

  Now I’ve got to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life: be a teacher or a doer.

  I’m not cut out for the first role, and the second role is on the government chopping block.

  “Let’s get something to drink,” Vincent suggests.

  I send one last look toward Melody and then decide to drink my night away. Unfortunately, I don’t get drunk enough to avoid seeing Vincent eye up my sister in ways no man should. “Don’t forget your promise to me.” If I’m not getting any, he needs to remain zipped up too. “Saved your sorry ass,” I add in case he forgot the circumstances around the promise.

  He presses his lips together and then shoves a handful of pretzels in his mouth. In his head, he’s cursing me.

  I shrug and gesture for the bartender to fill me up. If we’re going to be miserable and alone, might as well be drunk too. Only that plan is tossed out when Mom texts me that she’s making dinner.

  As we’re walking home from the bar, Vincent asks me the question I’ve been waiting for all night. “Why’d she call you Biscuit?”

  I decide to ignore him and pretend that the alcohol has affected my hearing.

  “Seriously? You’re not going to tell me?”

  “Are you leaving my sister alone?”

  There’s complete dead silence from Vincent. I snort. “Exactly.”

  We’re close to the house when he says, “You can fix things with Melody. I believe in you, Frank.” He pounds me on the back. I give him a healthy push, and maybe things would’ve escalated had I not caught Mom staring at us from the kitchen window.

  Near thirty and she still has a grip on my balls. I give her a mock salute and show Vincent the basement bedroom. “If someone else is using the john upstairs, you’re SOL,” I inform him. I learned that the hard way trying to clean up after jerking off to a memory of Melody doing something totally innocent like picking a pencil off the floor and flashing me with her honey thighs or putting a pen in her mouth and sucking on the end of it like it’s a lollipop or my dick.

  Man, I had so many dirty fantasies about Melody in high school. Sometimes she’d wear a plaid skirt and long knee-high white socks with little bows at the back of the knee. She’d say it was Cher day, which I had no idea what she was referencing, but fuck if those weren’t some of my favorite days of the week. Another time, she wore a black velvet choker, and it made me want to haul her into the locker room with a leash, push her on her knees, and fuck her face until her cheeks were painted white with my cum. Not all of my memories are about screwing her brains out. She made me want to protect her. I remember seeing her walk out of the counselor’s office, face white and mouth in a thin line. I’d mowed down half the football team that was standing in the hallway to get to her. I’d asked her what was wrong, but she refused to share with me, telling me it was none of my business. She’d always kept a part of herself private, like she didn’t trust me or didn’t think I was worthy of knowing that much about her. Not gonna lie, that stung.

  I had to leave town in a hurry because if I stayed here much past graduation, I was going to do something drastic that she and I would both regret.

  She’s my sister’s best friend now. Practically my parents’ second daughter before that. I couldn’t touch her without the wrath of every woman in my family descending on my head. So I ran off to the Naval Academy, got my bars, and climbed into a plane. The thing is, no matter how far away I went or how high in the air I’d fly, Melody was always with me.

  She’d dug her way under my skin. I could feel her, sense her. My lungs were filled with her to the extent that every breath I took carried her scent.

  Now that I’m back in town, the full force of my need for her has taken me by the throat. I’m either going to have to fuck her or escape again. Either way, we can’t go on like this.

  CHAPTER 2

  MELODY

  “Do you think he’s going to take the job?”

  “I heard he turned it down.”

  “No, I heard he already agreed.”

  “I’ve got a job Frank can fill.” That last voice belongs to Steph as she comes to stand in front of the booth behind me.

  Yeah, I’d been listening to every word they said. My ears always perk up when Biscuit’s name is mentioned. I guess he’s not Biscuit anymore. Ever since he returned to town with his new best friend Vincent, who stole my best friend Emma. Everyone calls him Frank because it’s the name he’d been given in the Navy.

  I’m a bit curious why someone with the given name Benson Charles would be called Frank but then again, I was the one that started calling him Biscuit, and everyone else had taken to the name too. I suppose it’s for the best. I need to forget about Biscuit. He’s Frank now, and I want nothing to do with Frank.

  “I thought you were seeing Corey.” One of the older ladies from the sewing club asks, fishing for gossip. They always are.

  I knew when I sat down in the booth behind theirs, I’d hear a few good dirty things that might be floating around town, but it’s just my luck that they’re talking about Bisc—Frank, I mentally correct. That name is as dead to me as he is. No matter where I turn or go, he’s always the topic of conversation. And even though I want nothing to do with that man ever again, I can’t help but get jealous every time one of these other women talk or throw themselves at him.

  “It’s casual with Corey, but Frank—” She lets out a sigh. I grit my teeth.

  Steph and Frank had been in the same grade. I was one year behind them. She’s always had a bit of a crush on him, not that I can blame her. I was one of the many. Not that Frank ever paid much attention to anyone trying to flirt with him. Sometimes I think it went straight over his head when a girl was coming on to him. He’s a man of few words and doesn’t give much back when some try to lure him in. That just made them try harder.

  I wonder if that has changed now. Frank is clearly a different man since he’s come back home. He’s no longer the boy that went off to be in the Navy. He’s come back as a man. A giant one at that. He’s always been tall and lean, but he’s packed on some muscle, making him all the more attractive.

  It’s clear he’s going to be sticking around if he’s going to take the job as the new chief of police after the last one resigned along with the mayor. They were really run out of town, but nonetheless, alderman Katherine Reid has been appointed to take over the mayor’s slot for the time being.

  She’d asked Frank if he’d be interested in taking over the spot of chief of police. He’s a good man who cares about this town, and I know he would be great at it. I might be mad at him, but that’s the truth. There is no one better suited for the position than him. He tends to be fair and way too level-headed. The man has iron control. How else could someone be so stoic all the time?

  It’s going to be hard seeing him every day. I suppose it’s better than not knowing if he was safe out there in the Navy doing God knows what. I really have no clue what he did because Frank never told me a thing. He never responded to any of my letters, but I kept sending them anyway, thinking he was busy. Then he showed back up in town and half pretended to have no clue who I was.

  God, I’m pathetic. I’ve spent years pining for a man who hasn’t given me much thought at all. I must have made up all those times I could have sworn he was staring at me back in high school. Or misunderstood why he got in a fist fight with James after he asked me out on a date. All along, I was the same to him as all the other girls. That reality was a slap in the face for me. One much harsher than the one I laid on Frank that afternoon.

  Steph refreshes the ladies’ coffee as they keep on gossiping. The bell on the diner door rings. I look up to see Emma walking in.

  “I was worried you weren’t going to make it,” I say when she drops down across from me.

  “Sorry, I got sidetracked.”

  “You don’t say.” I lift a brow, knowing exactly who sidetracked her.

  “What?” She reaches up and makes sure her hair isn’t all over the place. Her lips are a bit swollen, but what really catches my eye is the ring on her finger.

  “I’m the one that should be asking questions.” I grab her hand to see the giant ring. “You didn’t tell me!”

  “It happened last night, and I knew I was having breakfast with you today and wanted to tell you in person.” I admire the ring. It’s a simple band with a solid square giant stone that suits Vincent and Emma perfectly. It’s a mix of both of them. She doesn’t tend to be flashy, and he wants everyone to know that Emma is now engaged. Hence the stone being big but still simple.

  “I guess your mom and I have some planning to do.”

  “You’re right about that.” She grabs one of the menus on the table like she doesn’t know everything on it. “I don’t know shit about weddings, but you’ve got all those bridal magazines.”

  I pick up a menu too, wanting to hide the heat that rushes to my face. Yeah, I do have a lot of bridal magazines. I’ve always had a bit of a storybook fantasy in my head about what my life would be. But, unfortunately, no matter how I want it to go, life is always throwing me curveballs.

  “Are you girls ready to order?” Steph asks. Emma spouts off a giant order while I go with my normal eggs and yogurt. It’s simple, and I don’t have to worry about messing with my blood sugar. “So, what’s going on with Frank?” Steph starts to ask after she jots down our order.

  “You think I’m going to gossip about my own brother?” She shoots Steph a look, letting her know she’s serious.

  “Fine,” she huffs. “I’ll be back with your food in a little.”

  “So?” I ask for myself, knowing she will gossip with me. Emma and I became best friends a few years back when I’d passed out and she’d been the first responder.

  She was quick to realize what was happening. I know it’s part of her job for her to never divulge information, but still I’d asked her not to say anything to anyone about it. I don’t know why I’ve kept it a secret for so long. I think because it makes me feel different. Which is something I’ve always felt since I wasn’t born in Harrisville. I’d come to live here with my grandmother after my mom picked up some bad habits. I haven’t seen her in years. She didn’t even show last year when Grams passed. Some things never change.

  “I think he’s gonna take it. I don’t know. He’s being ornery lately.” Emma’s face grows irritated.

  “Is that because his best friend from the Navy that he brought home is banging his little sister? Because that might do it,” I tease, knowing how protective Frank can be when it comes to her.

  “Nah, he’s over that now. It’s something else.” She gives me a pointed stare.

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “My days of being in love with your brother are over.”

  “Good.” She beams at me. “I think it’s time you give Dean a chance.”

  “Dean? Really?” He moved here a year ago and filled a much-needed spot at the veterinary clinic. I take my dog Teddy to him. He’s kind, and he’s handsome, but I already know there’s nothing between us. I’ve never felt any sort of chemistry or thought of him in that way. But maybe that was because I was blinded by my love for Bis… Frank.

  “Why not?” She shrugs, but I know she’s up to something. Emma is always up to something.

  CHAPTER 3

  FRANK

  “Heard you were offered the chief of police’s position by Alderman Reid,” shouts Tom as soon as Vincent and I step into the bar. At his greeting, I turn and grab on to the door handle, but Vincent stops me, and then half the crowd comes over to drag me to the bar. They hover around like I’m about to make a big announcement.

  “You thinking about taking it?” Tom asks as he slides two mugs of beer in front of us.

  “Not sure I have a choice.” I dump the contents of the mug down my throat and signal for Tom to pour me another.

  “We’re a good set of people,” Pratt, a local, says in a hurt voice. The big burly rancher props his elbow up on the glossy bar top. “What’s wrong with being the chief of police here?”

  “I don’t see you running for that job,” I point out.

  “Friend, all I’ve ever used a weapon for is to shoot varmints on the farm. I’m not qualified to be toting around a pistol and arresting people. You, on the other hand, went to the Naval Academy, got some special awards for doing shit your parents can’t talk about, and probably know how to kill people eight different ways,” Pratt replies.

  “Only eight? You’re seriously underestimating Frank here.” Vincent claps me on the shoulder.

  Pratt tilts his head. “No one ever did explain how Biscuit became Frank.”

  “It’s cuz his head is square.” Vincent holds his hands a few inches away from each of my ears, pretending to measure my supposed box-like head.

  “I don’t see it.” Pratt’s perplexed.

  “It’s better than Biscuit. How’d that come about?”

  Pratt guffaws, and I heave a big sigh. I guess the story was bound to come out at some point. Pratt motions for Vincent to lean in.

  “When this pup was a young’ un—”

 

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