Zarek had explained she was worth it. As soon as he said those words, Luke started putting together lists of local support groups and a short list of psychologists who could help Chloe in Dallas. He was taking care of Zarek’s dog Slayer while he was gone, and he also said that he would he would spruce up his house and have it ready for Chloe’s arrival. Whatever that meant. God help him.
“She won’t want to go with you. You need a plan,” she said thoughtfully.
“You called me. I’m here. We get her to come out of your apartment and deal. That’s the plan.”
“We don’t live together anymore. She owns her a house. So it’s not going to be as easy as you think.”
“Then we make her come out of her house and deal. I didn’t think it would be a cakewalk.”
Polly came up with two bags of food. Zarek pulled out his wallet.
“How much?”
“It’s on the house,” the redhead told them.
He pulled out a couple of twenties. “Then you’re getting a really good tip.”
Polly grinned.
“Y’all take care. I put extra biscuits inside.” She hustled up to the hostess station.
“I don’t want this, do you?” Zarek asked Zoe.
“I’ll take it to Trenda’s house,” she said as she picked up the bags of food.
Chapter Two
Zarek got out of his truck and followed Zoe up to the doorstep of the modest sized rambler house. He was happy to see that it sat back from the street, it would make things easier.
“When did you two stop living together?” Zarek asked.
“She moved out after the incident at the lake. She said she needed space. I shouldn’t have let her go.”
Zarek looked at Zoe and could see waves of guilt flowing off her.
“Chloe’s a grown woman, you couldn’t have stopped her.”
“She wasn’t thinking straight. It was my job to take care of her.”
“Do you have a key to the house?”
“She changed the locks after Trenda and I let ourselves in to check on her three weeks ago.”
“Shit.” Zarek gave his childhood friend a considering look. “You should go sit in your car. I think it would be best if this was just between Chloe and me.”
“But…” He watched as Zoe’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe you’re right. Please help her.”
“I will Sweetie. I promise.” He watched as she walked slowly down the path towards her car, then he turned towards the door and knocked loudly.
“Chloe! It’s me, Zarek. Open up!” He put his ear to the door but didn’t hear anything. There was a small decorative window beside the door. He hated those damn things, they were a burglar’s wet dream.
He pounded on the door again. “Chloe Rose Avery, answer the damned door!” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He pulled out his phone and called her number. He didn’t hear it ringing from inside. It went to voicemail.
“Dammit Chloe, you better answer your damned door, or I’ll break it down.” Logically he knew she wasn’t listening, but still…
He counted to sixty. She might be in the shower. She might be in the bathtub. But she might be in real trouble, and he wasn’t waiting another fucking minute. He unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing and pulled it off then folded it up into layers and pressed it up against the small window, then he slammed his fist through the glass. He pushed out the broken glass with his shirt, reached in, unlocked the door and opened it. As soon as he stepped into the house, he announced himself.
“Chloe, don’t freak, it’s me, Zarek. I just broke into your house.” He paused.
Nothing.
“I come in peace.” He stood there in the front hall, waiting for some kind of verbal response.
Still nothing.
His heart clenched.
“Chloe! Answer me!”
He was met with silence.
No fire that he’d ever covered had been worse than this moment.
Please God, let her be okay.
His training kicked in, and he moved forward, his eyes checking every nook and cranny as he headed into the main area of the house. He saw that there was an open area that connected the living room, kitchen and dining room. The dining room table was overflowing with paper that he soon realized was unopened mail. The kitchen looked like a frat party kegger had taken place with all the red plastic cups littered about.
“Chloe!” he roared.
That was when he saw them, bloody footprints marring the creamy tile in the kitchen. He sped up. They were faint on the carpet down the hallway towards the bedrooms.
He slammed open the first bedroom door, it was being used as an office, and it was empty except for the plates and cups strewn about the desk.
He backed out. “Answer me, Chloe Rose.” He pushed open the next door and winced when he saw the smashed mirror and broken glass on the floor of the bathroom. There was a lot of blood on the floor, and it hopefully explained where the bloody footprints originated. He stepped in further and looked in the bathtub. No Chloe. He let out a sigh of relief.
He came to the last door, it was ajar and he pushed it open. At first, he didn’t think that there was anything in the bed, it was messed up and he didn’t notice her slight form amongst the covers. Then he saw stands of her chocolate brown hair peeking above the white sheet and resting on one of the pillows, but still no face.
He rushed into the room and stood over the bed. She was literally under the covers. Was she hiding?
“Chloe?” He kept his voice to a medium roar, his level of worry wouldn’t let him be softer.
The bedclothes jerked.
But then nothing.
Still it was something, and the fear that had been clawing at him calmed a little, and he was finally able to take in a full breath. He yanked the covers back from her head. Owlish brown eyes blinked up at him, there was no focus, no response.
“Chloe?”
Her eyes shifted and he could tell she was looking at him. A frown formed between her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it.
“Say something,” he demanded.
“Am I dreaming?” Her voice was hoarse with disuse.
“No dream.” He studied her face. She looked like she’d been sick for a long time. She was pale and gaunt. Her lips were chapped and her hair was a tangled mess.
“Zarek? It’s really you?” She tried to push her hand out from underneath the covers. He helped her get free. When she did, she reached up to touch his face. He cupped her palm to his cheek.
“It’s me Cupcake. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
Her eyes looked away from his. She stared at the ceiling and asked, “how’d you get in?”
“I broke in.”
“You did what?”
That got her attention, he thought with satisfaction. She pushed at the sheet and blanket, struggling to sit up. Zarek immediately bent down and put his arm around her, helping her into a sitting position. He picked up the two pillows on the floor and put them behind her back.
“There, is that better?” he asked.
She nodded her head.
“Did Trenda and Zoe help you break in?”
“Zoe’s outside. I told her to wait. This is between the two of us.”
Her eyes searched his. “What do you mean by that? You’re just here because my sisters called you and they’re being them.”
Anger roared up and out.
“That’s bullshit! As soon as I found out what was going on, I dropped everything and broke land speed records to get here. What the fuck Chloe? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for over six weeks. We always talk. We’ve been talking for years. I thought we were friends. Good friends. When you stopped taking my calls, it hurt, so I called Zoe. She told me what was going on, but you should have been the one who told me.”
She winced, her brown eyes growing darker, and looking even more wounded, but he couldn’t let that bother him. She needed to get it
through her thick head that he cared, and what she’d done had scared him. She needed to understand that he was pissed and more than a little hurt.
“Zarek, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.” He could tell she was trying to sound like her old self, but even that one sentence left her breathless. She was a wreck. There was still the bloody footprints to contend with, he yanked off the thick blanket that was covering her. What was up with that? It was the middle of summer and the AC wasn’t running. What was she doing under thick blankets?
“What are you doing?” She tried to take back the covers from him, but it was no use.
His eyes zeroed in on her blood caked foot. “What have you done to yourself? What happened to the mirror in the guest bathroom, Chloe?” he asked as he gently lifted her leg up so he could inspect her foot.
“Let go of me.”
“Not going to happen.” He wanted to howl as he saw that dirt and carpet threads were mixed in with the blood.
“Jesus Chloe, look at this mess! Where’s your first aid kit?”
“What?”
He looked up into her face, what focus she’d had as she tried to fight him for the blanket was pretty much wiped out.
“Your. First. Aid. Kit?”
“Why do you need that?”
“Look at your foot Chloe, you cut it. There’s blood all over your floor and on your sheets.” That got her attention, she looked at her foot in his big hand, as if she was noticing it for the first time. “Didn’t you even realize you were cut?” he asked in amazement.
“I cut it earlier. I stepped on some glass.”
“Your mirror. Do you know when you broke your mirror? Do you know when you cut your foot?”
“I can’t remember. Do you think it was yesterday?” she asked him.
“Honey, I wouldn’t know.” She was clearly out of it.
“It’s not that big of a deal. It doesn’t hurt now,” she said softly.
“Well it will when I clean it up. Is your first aid kit in the master bathroom?”
She nodded her head.
He gently set her foot down on the bed, and went to the bathroom to get the kit. At least the mirror in this bathroom was intact, but it was a mess in here too. He needed to get her the hell out of this house. But first he needed to see if she needed stitches. He wet a wash cloth, and grabbed the small case with all of the first aid supplies and went back into the bedroom. Chloe was sitting up in the bed. She had more color in her cheeks and she was beginning to look ticked off.
Good.
“You don’t need to be here.”
He sat down on the bed, and propped her foot on his lap. She hissed in pain.
“Thought it didn’t hurt,” he taunted.
“It’s your rotten bedside manner.”
As gently as he could, he washed away the caked blood. “I don’t see any glass.”
“I’m not an idiot,” she said as she tried to pull her foot out of his grasp. “I took it out.” He held on and looked closer and pressed. She gasped.
“Cupcake, you still have something in there.” He took the tweezers out of the kit and carefully extracted a small shard of glass from her foot. When he looked up he saw her biting her lip and he swore. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t. I did this to myself.” She slumped back against the pillows.
He sighed. She was right.
“I need to clean this up and put some antiseptic on it.” He got out the hydrogen peroxide and dabbed it onto the cut. When he was finally done and could see the extent of the damage he breathed easier. She wouldn’t need stitches. He pulled out a waterproof bandage and covered the cut.
“Are you done, Mr. Fireman?” He looked up and saw that there were beads of sweat on her forehead. “Jesus, could you have made a bigger deal out of this?” She tugged at her foot trying to get him to release it, but he wasn’t letting go.
“You hadn’t even bandaged your foot Chloe, what the fuck were you thinking?”
“I see those wheels turning Zarek. You want to take control. You think you’ve finally gotten an upper hand.” She was pointing her finger at him, then it dropped down. She was trembling with exhaustion.
“Look at you, you’re too tired to even properly fight. When was the last time you ate?” He studied her chapped lips. “Or drank water?”
“I drink water,” she defended herself. “Haven’t the rising tide of red plastic cups proved it?”
Hell, there had to be at least ten red cups on her nightstand, and half that number on the floor. This was not the Chloe Avery that he used to know. That Chloe would have never let her environment get to this level of grime. Hell, she was the Avery sister who used to clean up after everyone.
Her gaze followed his. “Quit looking at the mess. I was going to clean this up later today,” she lied tiredly. She looked so defeated, it was killing him.
“Are you thirsty? Let me get you a glass of water, then I’m going to make you something to eat.”
She let out a shuddering breath. “That’d be nice.” She pointed to the dresser across the room. “There are clean cups. I’ve just been getting water from the tap.”
He stroked his fingers along the top of her foot, then placed it back on the bed. He got up from the bed and snagged a Solo cup and went into the bathroom. When nothing but lukewarm water came out of the sink, he gave up and shut it off. He’d go to the kitchen and get her ice water.
He heard her behind him.
“I didn’t say you could get out of bed.”
“I want a shower before I have to face Zoe.”
He turned to look at her. She was leaning against the doorway, sweat sheening her forehead. He wanted to bundle her up and wrap her in cotton wool.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t shower if Zoe wasn’t outside? I’m hurt.”
She gave him a confused look. “That’s not what I meant.”
“But you’re on the right track, I think taking a bath would do you a world of good. Do you need me to get Zoe?”
“No!” Chloe swayed and clutched the door frame. “I don’t want her in here.”
“Okay Cupcake, it’s just you and me.”
“I don’t want you here either.” He could hear the desperation in her voice. “Please Zarek, just leave.” Her bottom lip jutted out just like it always did when she was boxed into a corner. Normally it made him smile, now it made him sad.
“Not going to happen.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that, and it doesn’t explain anything. Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
He reached out and cupped her cheek. “Face it Cupcake, you’re in bad shape.”
Her eyes dropped down to stare at the floor. “I’m working my way out of it.”
“You’re not,” he whispered.
Eyes so dark brown they were almost black shot back up at him. He saw them spark fire for a moment, but then they dimmed back to that out of focus nothingness. Back to that depressed woman who wasn’t there. Who wasn’t his Chloe.
“Will you leave so I can take my bath?”
“Chloe, I’m worried about you. I think you need my help.”
She shrugged away from his touch and made her way to the bathroom counter and leaned against it. He saw how she avoided looking at herself in the mirror. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. How could he not? She stiffened.
“What are you doing?” she asked softly.
“I’m giving my friend a hug. She needs one.”
“Stop.”
He turned her so they were looking at one another.
“You scared me, Chloe.”
“I’m fine. After my bath you’ll see everything is good and you can go.”
“Not going to happen.”
Finally he got a hint of a smile. But as if she felt it happen, tears formed. “You’re repeating yourself. You need to leave now. I can’t handle you here either. You’re as intrusive as family.”
“I’ll ta
ke that as a compliment.” He stroked his hand up her too delicate back, then he bent and brushed his nose against hers. “I’m not going to peek, but I’m leaving the bathroom door open a little so you can call out if you need me.”
“You need to leave. Please leave, I’m begging you.” Zarek knew that he was the one who was making her sound desperate, but he preferred any kind of emotion, even that, as opposed to her flat nothingness that she kept falling back into.
“Now who is the one repeating themselves? Use some moisturizer and some lip balm. Take care of my girl.”
“You’re not the boss of me.” He grinned when she used the phrase from their past.
“I’m older and bigger. Now move your tushie.” He waited to make sure she was stable as she moved to turn on the water in the tub. He would have done it himself, but he wanted to judge her ability. Damn, she was thin, and she wasn’t moving with her normal grace.
“Use bubbles.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Put bubbles in your bath. I’m going to bring in something for you to eat and drink. I figure you’ll want some semblance of modesty.”
She gave him a considering look, then nodded. He guessed she was done arguing with him for the moment. Now for the sister that was going to require a fight.
Chapter Three
Getting rid of Zoe had taken twenty precious minutes when he could have been making food for Chloe.
He took one look at the contents of her fridge and realized he should have packed a bio-hazard suit. Good God, what had she been eating? He kicked himself for not getting the take-out from Zoe’s car. What a dumb-ass.
He looked around, and found that half of the Solo cups had oatmeal residue and plastic spoons. Before he started any kind of food preparation, he went to check on her.
“Chloe, I’m coming in,” he warned her as he pushed open the door.
He saw her dark head, with her eyes at half-mast above a mound of bubbles. She’d taken him at his word. She looked up.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Good, I don’t have food yet, and I can’t find anything but ketchup and oatmeal. I did bring a glass of ice water.”
“I’m not thirsty.” Her hoarse voice belied the statement.
Dallas Fire & Rescue: Tempting Fire (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 2
