"I already did."
"Do it again."
With one eye on Chloe, I scrolled through the pictures. I saw the same images as before – some pretty bad shots of Chucky, some of her dashboard, one of a kitchen light fixture. None of me. Well, other than the naked one, that is.
I stopped scrolling. "This doesn't prove anything."
"Well, I guess that's where we're different." Her voice trembled. "Because I didn't think I'd have to prove anything to you."
The emotion in her voice caught me off guard, but I steeled myself and kept on going.
"Yeah?" I said. "And what about that movie poster? You got big plans for it? Nice of you to think of a name before you got a product. Or, have you got one of those too? If you do, and if it's in the house, Bishop'll find it. I guarantee you that."
"There's nothing to find," she insisted.
"Didn't seem that way to me."
"That poster?" she said. "It was my birthday present. My best friend, Erika, she's a graphic design major. It was a joke." Her voice rose. "Just a stupid joke! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Yeah," said a familiar voice from somewhere near the stairs. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
It was Bishop. As usual, his timing sucked.
"Oh great," Chloe muttered. She glared over at him. "Come to join the fun? Well, come on," she said, sounding half-crazed, "the more the merrier."
At the bottom of the steps, Bishop stood, staring at me. "Just what the hell are you doing?" he asked.
"What does it look like?" I said. "I'm talking to Chloe."
He looked toward Chloe and frowned. "Is that what you call this?"
Yeah, it was messed up. But there was at least some logic to it. Lamely, I tried to explain it in terms he'd understand. "It's the only place that's secure. No wireless. No nothing. Shit, you've only been drilling that into me for months." I glanced at Chloe. "I already checked for recording stuff."
He was still looking at Chloe. "I suppose that explains the blankets." He turned toward me and said, "What? You made her take off her clothes?"
"No," I said. "She did that herself."
From the chair, Chloe made a scoffing sound.
"You did," I told her.
She eyed me with disgust. "Only because you lied to me."
So now, I was the liar? I almost laughed. "I did not. I told you there was something you had to see." My voice hardened. "I showed it to you, didn’t I?"
"The video?" she said. "Oh yeah. That was real priceless. And by the way, the guy's totally lying."
I was tired of the stories. "He is not." I turned to Bishop. "Go on. Tell her."
Bishop looked down. He shook his head. And when he looked up, his eyes were filled with disapproval and maybe a little pity. "You know you're acting crazy, don't you?"
It was the pity that pissed me off. "You're one to talk," I told him.
"And she's right," Bishop said. "The guy was lying."
I hesitated. "What?"
Chapter 58
Bishop's words rang in my ears. They couldn’t be true. Because if it was, I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life. I glanced at Chloe and felt myself swallow.
From the stairway, Bishop spoke up. "And you were supposed to stall her, not drag her down here and tie her up."
Struggling to think, I heard myself say, "Actually, I used handcuffs."
"So," Bishop said, "you couldn't think of a better way to stall her than this?"
Confused, I shoved a hand through my hair. "It's just, I dunno." My voice broke. "I couldn't believe she played me like that."
From the chair, Chloe muttered, "I wasn't playing you."
I looked over at her. She was still handcuffed. If she was telling the truth…
No, she couldn’t be.
Bishop turned to look at me. "You know your 'pal,' Brittney?"
She was a lot of things, but not my pal. Still, I made myself say, "Yeah?"
"Well," Bishop continued, "turns out, she orchestrated the whole thing, even gave him that fake story in case he got caught."
My mind was churning, but I didn't know with what. Despair? Hope? Maybe both? Somehow, I managed to ask, "And you know this, how?"
"Lemme put it this way," Bishop said, "the guy's friend was a little more forthcoming, especially with the right encouragement."
I wasn't going to ask for specifics, not in front of Chloe. But still, I had to ask, "How do you know he wasn't lying the second time?"
"This time," Bishop said, "I got it from the horse's mouth. And by horse, I mean Brittney herself."
Chloe's voice cut across the basement. "That bitch! I knew it!"
Together, Bishop and I turned to look.
"Well, she is," Chloe muttered.
At the sight of her, I felt something terrible gnaw at my heart. "Chloe, I –"
"Forget it," she said. "Now are you gonna let me go or not?"
I thought of life without her. I could hardly speak. "No."
"What?" she said. "You're kidding, right?"
"I mean," I continued. "Yeah, I'll let you go." I swallowed. "I'm so sorry about this. But I don't wanna let you go, not like this, I mean in the other way." Words almost failed me. "I am so fucking sorry."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You're a total psycho. I should've known better. Now, seriously." She spoke very slowly, emphasizing every word. "Let. Me. Go."
I glanced away, ashamed to even look at her. After what I'd done, I didn't deserve to look at her. But there was something she had to know, if only for her own peace-of-mind.
I met her gaze. "I wasn't really gonna hold you here, you know."
She eyed me with disgust. "Whatever."
From a few feet away, Bishop spoke. "Wait."
She turned to glare at him. "For what?"
"Before you leave," he said, "there's something we need to discuss."
But I was already behind her, unlocking the cuffs. At the sight of her wrists, I sucked in a breath. The skin under the cuffs was red and raw. At the realization, I wanted to hack out my heart and hand it over.
I'd hurt her. Really hurt her.
I hadn't meant to. But I had.
I was a monster.
When the cuffs fell away, she huddled forward and tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Slowly, she struggled to her feet, looking a little unsteady.
I reached out, wanting to help. She turned to look, and her eyes said it all. Don't even think about it.
She turned to Bishop, and in a voice filled with loathing, she said, "And what, exactly, do we need to discuss?"
"Are you gonna call the police?" he asked.
"Well, you two seem to have some sort of problem with the police," she said. "I wonder why that is."
I moved forward. "Call 'em. Whatever happens, I deserve it. I mean it. Whatever you want." I reached out for her. "I'm so sorry."
"Stop saying that!" She pushed my hands away. "Don’t. Touch. Me." Her gaze narrowed. "Ever."
From a few feet away, Bishop looked to Chloe and said, "You never answered my question."
"Yeah?" she said. "That's because I don't know the answer."
He nodded. "Fair enough. But I want to remind you of something. That little party, or whatever it was in the house, along with that picture of him you took. Well, it doesn't make you look exactly like an innocent young thing."
She stared at him. "What are you saying?"
"Just that if you start something, you'd better think it through. And I'm not just saying it for Lawton's sake."
She snorted. "Liar."
"Think what you want," he said. "But I’m telling you, and Lawton can tell you too, things can get ugly real quick in a situation like this."
What the hell? I turned to glare at him. "You threatening her?"
"Oh, this is special," Chloe said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So now you're coming to my defense? Gee, thanks. Where were you when some psycho handcuffed me in his basement? Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot, t
hat guy was you. Asshole."
From a few feet away, Bishop gave a small laugh.
She turned toward him and yelled, "It's not funny!"
"You're right," he said, looking like he meant it. His tone softened. "Look, I'm not threatening you. Lawton's right. You want to report him, you have every right. If you were my sister –"
She interrupted him. "You'd have me report it?"
"Fuck no," he said. "I'd beat Lawton's ass until he was sorrier than any law enforcement could make him."
I spoke up. "Do it now." I turned to Chloe. "Baby, would it make you feel better if he beat the crap out of me?"
Her gaze narrowed. "Definitely."
Chapter 59
I turned to Bishop. "Come on," I said, holding up my hands. "Do it. Beat the shit out of me. I won't even hit you back."
"Oh, for fuck's sake," he muttered.
"I mean it," I told him.
Ignoring me, he looked toward Chloe. "But as it is, he's my brother. And I hope –" At this, he turned to give me a long, serious look. "– that once you hear why he acted like such an ass, you'll get why he lost it so bad."
"Lost it?" Chloe said, rubbing absently at her sore wrists. Her voice trembled. "Is that what you're calling it?"
At the sight of her wrists, at the sound of her voice, at the realization of what I'd done, it was almost too much. Desperately, I reached for her hands. "Oh baby, you've gotta believe me. I don't know what happened."
She yanked her hands away. "Yeah, well I do." She stepped back, out of my reach. "Now, will one of you dickheads get my clothes so I can get out of here?"
I looked to Bishop. He nodded and turned to head upstairs. After he'd gone, I turned back to Chloe. She stood, huddled in the blanket, barefoot and trembling.
I had never begged a girl before. I'd never wanted to. I'd never needed to. But now, knowing what I'd done, and knowing what I'd lost, I was ready to do anything.
I stepped toward her and fell to my knees. "Chloe, I am so fucking sorry."
She made a sound of disgust. "Yeah, whatever."
When I reached out, she slapped away my hands. "Touch me again, and I'll kill you. I mean it."
In spite of the brave words, she looked small and tired. I couldn’t help but remember that today was her birthday.
I'd known that already, but thinking of it now, the knowledge felt like a knife to my heart – a knife I deserved. Just yesterday, I'd held her in my arms. She'd been my girl. My birthday girl.
Now, she was the girl who hated me. And the sad thing was, I had it coming.
I looked up at her and whispered, "I'm sorry."
"Shut up," she said. "I don't want to hear it."
Too soon, Bishop returned from upstairs, carrying her clothes bundled in his arms. At the sight of me kneeling, his steps faltered. He gave me a look that said it all. You poor fucked-up bastard.
He was right. I had fucked up. And I was a bastard, literally.
Without a word, he delivered the clothes straight to Chloe and left as silently as he'd come.
Chloe and I were alone again. It might be the last time we were alone. Still on my knees, I reached out. "Chloe—"
"I don't want to hear it." She glanced away. "And for God's sake, get up."
My voice was ragged. "No."
"I mean it," she said. "And turn your back." She gave me a nasty smile. "Unless you want to get out your handcuffs again." Her lips twisted. "And get yourself a nice, good look."
The comment hit home. Filled with shame, I pushed myself up and turned away, listening as she started getting dressed. I couldn't see her, but I could make out the sounds. When she zipped up her jeans, I gave it a few more seconds and then turned to face her. She was crouched down, lacing up her tennis shoes.
I couldn’t help it. I had to tell her. "Chloe, please." My voice was desperate, and my eyes were damp. "Don't go. Not like this. I love you. You know I do. Stay, please?"
"And what if I don't?" she said. "What are you gonna do? Handcuff me again?"
"You've gotta understand –"
"No." She cut me off. "I don't have to understand anything. You didn't need to keep me here. If you wanted to know anything, about any of that stuff, or whatever, all you had to do was ask."
I felt myself swallow. It was true. And it wasn't. "Baby," I said, "I did ask. You never answered. I'm sorry, but –" I pushed a hand through my hair. "Look, I know I fucked up. Majorly fucked up."
When she said nothing, I kept on going. "But I guess it just all made me kind of crazy. I mean, I'd fallen so hard for you, and when I thought you were just using me like –" At the memory of Brandy, I shook my head and looked away.
"Like what?" Chloe said.
I met her gaze. "Like who."
"Okay, then who?" She smirked. "Brittney?"
"No," I said. "Someone else."
"Who?" she demanded.
"Brandy Blue." I made a sound of disgust. "Well, that's the name she goes by now anyway. You know, I hate that name. Sounds like a damn porn star. But I guess that's what she is, huh?" I glanced away. "And me too. Thanks to her."
Chloe paused. "What do you mean?"
"Anyway, she was this cocktail waitress, and –"
"There's nothing wrong with being a waitress," she said.
"Yeah, I know, honest." And I meant it. Desperately, I tried again. "But Brandy, you know, she had her sights set on something else. Wanted to be a star. Not that I knew that when I hooked up with her." I shook my head. "Best fucking actress I ever met."
Chloe stared at me. "What are you talking about?"
"The world I travel in, well, it's not exactly filled with the nicest people."
"So what?" she said. "You're not nice. What do you care?"
It was true. "You're right," I said. "I'm not nice."
She glanced toward the chair she'd been sitting in. "Obviously."
"But I guess if I'm being honest," I continued, "the thing with Brandy, I took it out on you." I looked into Chloe's eyes, trying like hell to make her understand. "I am so fucking sorry. I should've known better."
"Yeah," she said. "You should've."
At least she was talking. It was a good sign, right? If she wanted to hit me, yell at me, whatever, I'd take it and just be happy she wasn't walking out the door.
As long as she was here, I stood a chance, right? At the thought, I felt a spark of hope ignite in my chest. "You wanna hear the rest of it?" I said. "Let's go upstairs." My voice was raw and desperate. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."
Wordlessly, she stared over at me. Waiting, I searched her face for clues, a hint of hope, anything.
Say yes.
Finally, she said, "You can't make it up to me. I don't even know you."
I shook my head. "That's not true."
She rubbed at her wrists and winced when her fingers grazed a raw spot. Watching, I could hardly speak. I had done that. Somehow, I'd make them better. I'd make all of this better.
"Chloe—
She dropped her hands. "Is Chucky still upstairs?"
At her sides, I could still see her wrists. They looked so raw. They had to hurt. Tomorrow, there'd be bruises. Because of me.
In front of me, Chloe made a sound of impatience. "Well?"
Was Chucky still upstairs? Somehow, I managed to nod.
"Good," she said. "Because we're leaving."
No.
I couldn't let her, not like this.
Desperately, I tried again. "You won't listen to the rest? C'mon, baby. Please."
"I'm not your baby," she snapped. "Not anymore."
She turned and began walking toward the stairway. I wanted to stop her, to pull her back into my arms and hold her close until she agreed to listen.
Right, because I hadn't done enough damage already.
So instead, I followed after her, pleading for her to stay, even as she gathered up Chucky, along with the rest of her things. At this rate, she'd be gone any minute.
It was true. S
he didn't have much, and she gathered it quickly. Before I knew it, we were at the front door. She turned and held out her hands. "Keys."
It killed me to do it, but I reached into my jeans pocket and held them out. "Won't you at least let me drive you home?"
"No," she said. "And the gate had better be open."
Somehow, I managed to say, "It will be."
"Good."
I held out a hand, but didn't quite touch her. I spoke very softly. "But only because I hope you'll be coming back through it."
"Yeah, well, keep hoping that."
"Please." Something in my gut twisted. "Stay."
Her tone grew snotty. "What are you gonna do? Force me?"
"No." My voice was still quiet. "I'm not going to force you, but I'm not giving up, either. You wait. I'll win you back." I swallowed, trying to hold my emotions in check. "And then, baby, I'm never gonna let you go."
For a long time, she just looked at me, clutching the squirming dog tight against her chest.
Into her silence, I spoke again, a strangled whisper in the quiet house. "I'm sorry. Just stay, okay?"
Say yes.
But she didn't say anything. Instead, she reached for the door and opened it. A moment later, she turned and walked out, taking her little dog with her.
When the door shut behind her, I stood, staring at the empty space. Into the emptiness, I whispered her name. "Chloe."
She was gone. After all this time, I had found her. And then, I'd lost her.
No matter what it took, I'd win her back.
Somehow.
The End
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