Kicking Reality

Tayla Chase (sister of Generation Next star Emerson Chase and Royal Kings defender Ashley Chase) almost drowns at party in LA. The sixteen-year-old had been seen drinking with older sister Emerson before hanging out on the beach with an unknown crowd.

The drunken teen was found at the scene unconscious and revived by Logan Carrington. Another unidentified girl had been saved by Wesley Rich.

Earlier, witnesses saw Emerson Chase in a heated kiss with childhood friend Logan Carrington. The two were seen arguing until Wesley Rich found them outside the home of LA’s hottest DJ—Mikey Gee.

According to a reliable source, the love triangle erupted in an explosive fist fight between Logan and Wesley because Emerson Chase is rumored to be pregnant. Neither party has commented on the pregnancy, however, the baby is said to belong to Wesley Chase.

A large lump has formed inside my throat constricting my ability to yell or even breathe. What the fuck did I just read? My eyes scan the article again; stomach churning and leaving me feeling ill that something happened to my little sister.

“Ashley?” Poppy calls my name, worried. “What’s wrong? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I don’t answer her, ringing Dad’s cell which goes straight to voicemail. I try Mom, the same thing. If anyone would pick up her cell—it’ll be Tayla.

“Ash,” she greets with a shaky voice.

“Tayla,” I almost scream down the phone. “What the hell happened?!”

“I’m okay.” I can hear the exhaustion in her voice. “I went to help someone that was drowning and got caught myself.”

“Why the fuck were you drinking? Did Emerson let you fucking drink?”

“I wasn’t drinking, Ash. Emerson wouldn’t let me drink.”

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“But the tabloids . . .”

“C’mon, don’t believe what you read.” She chuckles softly but it’s followed by a raspy cough. “You should know that.”

I grit my teeth, barely able to control the rage. “Really? Because I’m reading shit about Logan and Emerson.”

The silence falls over the phone. “Ash, it’s not my place to comment. Talk to them.”

She reassures me she is okay but is tired and needed to sleep. We hang up and in a confused state, I sit back on the sofa with my dick still hanging out, though flaccid from the shock.

“Is this true?” I ask the question to myself even though Poppy in beside me caressing my hair.

“Speak to them, Ashley. Though Emerson is not pregnant with anyone’s baby. That is complete rubbish.”

“Just fucking tell me.” I close my eyes, rubbing my face with the palms of my sweaty hands. “Is my best friend fucking my sister?”

“I think it’s more than that.”

“You knew about this and didn’t tell me?!”

“Hey!” she hollers, pulling away and folding her arms with superiority. “It’s not my business. And it’s not exactly like we’re honest with everyone either. You’re technically still married to Alessandra. Your family has no clue you’ve separated.”

She had a point. A very valid one at that.

My marriage to Alessandra had disaster written all over it. She may have been beautiful and smart, but she was not the woman I envisioned my life with. In fact, I didn’t envision settling down at all—until Poppy.

“But it’s my best friend and my sister.”

She nods, eyes wide goading some sort of reaction from me.

“My best friend and my sister,” I repeat.

She nods again, remaining quiet.