by Bellus,HJ
Darby must hear her response as she whirls around in her seat and stands up on it. She snags the piece of sandwich from my hand and shoves it towards Chloe’s mouth, trying to force feed her.
“Ma’am, excuse me. You can’t stand on the seats.”
Darby ignores the warning until Chloe takes a bite of the food.
“I’ve got it.” I pull the sandwich from Darby’s claws. “Turn around before you get your ass kicked off this flight.”
Darby finally turns around and takes her seat, but not before giving Chloe the what for and that Zack would no longer control her in any way.
“Did he not let you eat?” The question escapes me before I have time to process it.
“I had to maintain a certain weight or he’d get pissed.”
“Eat,” Darby growls in front of us without turning around.
“I’m a tough guy, but she scares the shit out of me,” I grin. “So eat please. You need a damn sandwich.”
Chloe picks up the rest of the sub and begins nibbling on it. “It’s so good the pain almost goes away.”
Darby hands back an envelope and I take it without even thinking. Two white pills fall out into my palm.
“I’m not going to even ask.” I hand them to Chloe and put up her tray table.
“She’s always been a walking pharmacy.” Chloe smiles bigger than she has yet.
“Again, I like my junk so I’m not harassing her.”
The flight takes off and I’m impressed that Chloe manages to eat a quarter of her sub. I’m not going to push her any further knowing her stomach won’t be able to manage a large amount of food combined with the pain pills.
“Doing okay?” I ask.
Her hand is clutched to mine in a death grip.
“Fine. Getting a bit tired though.”
“You can sleep.”
“I don’t like to sleep.”
“Why?”
Why in the hell am I even asking her?
“That’s when Zack loved pulling me out of bed by my hair, raping me, and then beating my stomach.” She covers her eyes. “Oh God, why did I just tell you that?”
I guide her head to my shoulder and pet her ratty hair. “You can tell me anything.”
“No, I can’t. I’m sorry. Must be the combo of sugar and whatever in the hell Darby gave me.”
“Do you feel sick?”
“No, I don’t feel…” Her voice trails off until she doesn’t finish her sentence.
I feel for a pulse in her neck and relax back into my seat when I find it. My bony shoulder can’t be comfortable, so I move around until I have her cupped into my body in a semi-comfortable position.
“Darby,” I whisper yell.
“Yeah.” She turns around.
“What in the hell did you give her?”
“A few horse tranquilizers.”
“Dipshit, what did you give her?”
“Pain killers; she’ll be fine there bodyguard.”
I flip her the bird and smile. She finally turns around and I lay my head back. My dad will be waiting for us in the airport and will rush her to his clinic. He’s the best doctor and surgeon around. He’ll help any victim of domestic violence.
Three
Kip
“It’s bad, Dad. She’s been beaten.”
“Calm down, son, and let me do my job.” He adjusts the surgical cap on his head before leaving us in the waiting room.
It’s past midnight and the darkness outside the office windows looms in on us. My body is exhausted beyond a point I’ve rarely felt in my life. I can’t even begin to comprehend what Chloe’s fragile frame is experiencing.
The familiar roar of a Harley pulls up in front of the office followed by another car. It’s the boys. The door opens in a flash.
“Rode your bitch. It felt damn good, too.” Rhett adjusts his crotch and tosses me the keys.
“Better have talked to her nice.” I catch the keys to my motorcycle in mid-air.
“Always.”
Zane doesn’t bullshit around and goes directly to Ava. A slight twinge of disappointment appears on his face when she takes Charlie from his arms.
“Momma. Momma,” she chants through sleepy eyes.
“I missed you, baby girl.” She cradles her to her chest and pulls her fingers through her dark curls. “Were you good for daddy?”
“Daddy. Daddy.” She perches up and throws her little body over to Zane.
Ava kisses Zane and he relaxes. “Never again.”
“Uh?” Ava asks, hugging her family.
“She’s blown out of numerous diapers and found a fucking Sharpie marker.”
“Did you let Rhett feed her?”
“Never again, Ava, I fucking missed you.”
“Missed you, too.” She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses him.
The four of them jump into a deep conversation about Chloe and her state of health. Rhett and Zane are certain Zack will come for Chloe or send someone for her. I guess Fuckface is deep in a Senate run and needs nothing but a shiny PR campaign. It’s clear the girls have been through this their whole life and know the game all too well. One thing is clear, Rhett and Zane aren’t going to put their family in danger and Ava and Darby are solid in their ground of keeping Chloe safe.
“She has no one. Just like me, asshole. I’m not ditching her.” Darby slaps Rhett’s chest.
“She left you and Ava, remember?” He sends her a hard stare that’s not willing to budge.
“Remember when I shot and killed my father and wouldn’t even have had a gun if you didn’t come for me?”
“Not fair. Quit being a bitch.”
“Stop.” I stand up and take my hat off, scrubbing my head. I don’t like my idea at all and know deep down it’s the wrong one. But I refuse to watch my friends being pulled apart because of all this.
“My dad and I live five miles out of town. They’ll never come and look for her there. She can stay and heal until shit settles.”
The office goes silent. The slamming of a door grabs all of our attention when my dad steps out from his procedure room.
“All set.” He pulls his cap from his head. “Should heal just fine. I had to put one pin in. It will be a long recovery.”
Ava and Darby put up more of a fight to take Chloe home. My dad is filled in really quickly about the whole situation and agrees with me.
“Listen.” He finally speaks up. “I agree with Kip. We’ve been through this once before.”
I cringe knowing what’s coming next. I’m a fucking quiet person for a reason and keep my shit to myself. I don’t open up.
“Dad,” I warn, but he ignores me.
“Kip’s mom was a victim to domestic violence. Lost her life at the hands of a man. This isn’t something to fuck with.”
I step back when he uses the F bomb. I’ve only heard my father cuss a few times in my entire life.
“We will take her home until she’s healed.”
The stares stabbing me from my friends is exactly why I’m a private asshole. It’s just one puzzle piece to the whole reason I am who I am. I don’t share. I don’t love and sure as hell don’t get close to anyone.
The men from the club are the first friends I’ve even dared to be friends with in a long fucking time. My mom broke my heart and then my career shattered it. I found a mindless job where my back was against the wall of the bar and learned to survive.
Rhett and Zane give me a slap on the back, but don’t say a word. Darby falls back on her charisma and flips me off. It’s just as good as hug from her. Ava is the only one who wraps me up in her arms.
“We’re here for you too, big guy,” she whispers.
She makes me feel weird and I don’t like it. I pat her back and nod. I’m not a fucking fool and remove my hand from her back as soon as it hit to avoid the wrath of poppa bear.
The office is quiet when they leave. I join my dad where he gathers up his jacket and briefcase.
“Dad, why?”
/>
“I didn’t lie, son.”
“No shit. But…”
“I miss her and was hurt just as much as you, son. I chose to handle it differently.”
“They’re my friends. You’ve pushed for that shit since I left the force and now?”
“And now you’ve found a great group of friends to care for you.” He shuts his briefcase. “I’ll order Chinese for dinner and your friend should be awake.”
“She’s not my friend,” I growl.
“Oh?” He scrubs the side of his head. “I guess she was just crying and talking about Kip for no reason.”
He picks up the phone, ordering from our favorite place. The man is determined and when on a mission it’s pointless to argue with him. He’s been hell bent on pulling me out of my shell. He only shed the light of guilt for a few months after my mother’s death and then was determined to not let it ruin the rest of my life.
My new house is weird. My room is more like a closet than my room in my real house. Dad didn’t want me to come here this weekend, but I wanted to see my mom. I miss her. I know moms aren’t supposed to be cool when you’re in the fifth grade, but I’ve always been a momma’s boy.
Her new husband is an asshole. I’m not dumb and know what he does to her.
“Dinner, Kip.”
I race out to the kitchen, smelling my favorite dish. Lasagna. My mom’s scooping out our plates when I’m at her side.
“My favorite.” I hug her middle.
She bends down and whispers in my ear, “I made it just for you. I love you, Kip.”
“I know,” I whisper and then pull the jug of milk from the fridge.
I do know she loves me, but wonder why she can’t love herself.
She sits down at the table and bows her head, saying a silent prayer. George, her latest husband, stumbles in and plops down in his chair. I begin shoveling the dinner in. I could eat this every single day for every single meal.
“Lasagna.” The smell of liquor floats in the air.
“Want something else?” My mother begins to tremble.
He grabs her by the hair and rips her down to him. “You know I fucking hate this shit.”
Her head bounces off the table and she scrambles up. “Please not tonight. Kip is here.”
“Oh, your precious Kippy Skippy is here. I forgot. By all means, let me eat this shit.” His huge hands grab the pan, picking it up, and throwing at her.
The pan cracks her in the nose and the lasagna splatters everywhere. I race to her and stand in front of her.
“Kip, no.” She pushes me to the side.
“Let’s show your Kip just how strong you are, bitch.”
“No, George, no. I’ll make you something else. Please stop.” She pushes me again so I’m feet away.
His hand goes around her throat, he shoves her up against the fridge, and begins beating her head on it.
“Stop,” I scream, trying to pull him off of her.
His other hand backhands me, sending me sailing through air. By the time I get up to my feet, he has her bent over the sink with the spray nozzle shooting in her face.
“Cunt, making me get this shit all over me.”
She gurgles for her next breath, never stopping the fight.
“Momma.” I pick up a pan and whop George in the back.
He finally lets go of her and she drops to the ground.
“You little fucker.”
George is on me, punching my face. I scream for my mom to call for help. I’ve only ever seen the bruises, never the action.
She picks up the pan I hit him with and tries to swing it at him, but isn’t fast enough. George turns and grabs her wrist.
“Let’s just show your Kippy Skippy how to use a skillet properly.”
He has her pinned down under him and swings the pan. The first blow sends blood flying and bones shattering. I scramble to my feet and run to the neighbors’. They’re not home and I run to the next house. I finally find someone to help me, but it’s too late.
The next familiar face I see is my dad’s. I’m wrapped up in his arms crying hard.
“I killed her, Dad.”
“No, son, no you didn’t.”
“He got the skillet from me.”
“I never should’ve let you go. It’s all my fault.”
The taillights to my dad’s Range Rover keep me focused on the drive home. I didn’t fucking expect for that goddamn memory to pop up. As the years have drifted by, it recurs less and less. I can only chalk it up to Chloe’s shattered state.
The roar of the engine underneath me and the night’s cool air hitting my face soothes my soul. I let it hypnotize me on the rest of the ride.
“Buy a fucking helmet, son.”
“Don’t need one, my dad’s a surgeon.” I flip my snapback back around so the brim is facing forward.
“He can’t fix stupid.”
“Go in and get the lights on, old man. I’ll get her.” I point to a sleeping Chloe.
He nods and jogs into the house, flipping on the rest of the garage lights. Her arm is in a sling with a bunch of shit around it. I notice more bruises covering her other arm and up her neck. I have no fucking clue how I missed them earlier.
“Chloe.”
She doesn’t stir. I bend down and pick her up like a newborn. Her injured arm remains in place and she still doesn’t move. I’ve walked into this garage after hopping off my bike a dozen times and most of them were in the pitch dark, not wanting to wake my dad.
I hear the rattle of Boozer’s dog tag and know he’ll be under my feet in no time. He probably holds the world record for the oldest Golden Retriever. His sloppy kisses and floppy ears never get old.
“Back, boy.” I keep my voice low.
Darby and Ava were fearful of Chloe waking up and panicking. They sent videos to her phone and my dad reassured them she wouldn’t wake for several hours. Darby wanted to come with us, but Rhett refused because he missed his woman and it would be pointless because whoever they are would track her here.
“Guest room. It’s ready.” Dad points.
“Really, I was thinking the fucking bathroom.”
He pops me in the back of the head before going to his bedroom. He has the lamp on the nightstand on dim and the bed covers turned down. For being single his entire life, the man sure does know his way around the women.
I lay Chloe down and am relieved to see her in the sweats and baggy t-shirt the girls dressed her in before surgery. I pull the blankets up to her chin and pad out to the kitchen. Dad has her pain pills set out beside a bottle of water. The old geezer sure knows how to take care of a person.
I set them by the lamp on the nightstand and hit the bathroom right off the guest bedroom. I leave the door cracked in hopes of hearing her if she wakes. I have no clue how she’ll react and I’d expect the worse from what she’s been through.
A shower has never been so refreshing in my entire life. The hot water cleansing off the filth of the shelter and airport refreshes every part of me. I’d love to stay longer letting the hot rain of water massage my skin, but I don’t.
I’m out and drying off before I peek into the room. Chloe is still out and in the same position. Boozer is at the foot of the bed waiting for me. My dad must have set up a cot and grabbed my favorite pillow and blanket. He knows all of my weird-ass quirks all too well.
I dim the lamp and make sure Chloe’s pills and bottle of water are on the nightstand next to her. I have tomorrow off from Blue Iron and will be here when she wakes up. I look down to her pale skin and light bruises on her jaw line. They just keep re-appearing. My hands run over my hair and I wonder how in the hell I missed all of her injuries.
After several moments of silently studying her, I make my way to my cot, and collapse. My eyes are heavy and my soul is drained.
I pat the side of the cot. “Boozer, boy.”
He brings his head up from the mattress and only stares at me.
“Damn traitor,” I whisper
, but it warms my heart he’s so loving and protective.
Four
Chloe
The room is dark and my mind swims in fear. I reach over to the other side of the bed and Zack isn’t home. I sit up, pressing down with an arm and realize it’s bound to me. I panic, wondering if he’s tied me up again. My muscles instinctively flex in terror.
Something from the end of the bed stirs and a blood-curling scream escapes. I panic, fighting my way up to the headboard. It’s not my bed. What in the hell is going on? Has he taken me somewhere? A flash of pain blinds me. The feeling is so intense I feel dizzy.
“Chloe, it’s okay.”
A voice comes from the side of my bed and I’m afraid to look over.
“It’s Kip. You’re okay.”
His voice is soothing and threat free, but my mind whirls to figure out who in the hell Kip is. I hear his feet pad around the end of the bed until he’s standing in the dim light flowing from the lamp. It takes me a few seconds and a long dry swallow to see him.
I clutch my chest with my free hand and let out all the fear. The events of the last two days reel in my memory, which only causes the panic to rise right back up.
“Need a drink.” He holds out a bottle of water.
I only nod and watch him twist off the cap before holding it out further. The water is refreshing, taking away the severe case of cottonmouth.
“My dad fixed your arm.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “We thought it would be best for you to stay here in case…”
I finish his sentence for him. “He comes for me.”
Kip drops his head in defeat and nods.
My stomach breaks the long silence with a loud growl.
“Wait here.” He hops from the bed and jogs out the door.
I look around the dimly lit room to see very comfortable surroundings. The big red dog at the end of the bed creeps his way up with loveable deep brown eyes. I love animals, but they were always a no-no in Zack’s eyes. He claimed they only made a house stink and were dirty with hair.
“Hey boy.” I pat the bed next to me.
He creeps up further until he’s lying next to my outstretched legs. The dog is huge and sporting a few grey hairs on the top of his head. He lets me scratch behind his ear.
