by Bellus,HJ
“Thanks for sharing your bed with me.”
Kip’s voice startles me, but the sweet smell of the food he’s carrying calms my nerves right down.
“It’s not his bed. He seems to like you a bit.” He smirks and hands me a container of take-out before easing himself down on the bed with the dog between us.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Boozer.”
“He’s gorgeous.” I pull the fork from the container and swirl around the noodles mixed with sweet and sour chicken.
“You mean manly and handsome, right?” Kip quirks up an eyebrow. “And eat by the way. You need it.”
I grimace at how embarrassing of a state I must be in. Whatever drugs they sent through the IVs before I passed out before surgery must’ve been good because I only remember slivers of the day before. I spear a piece of the chicken and bring it to my lips knowing the exact calorie count of it.
My stomach protests with food so near, so I plop it in my mouth and moan out loud. Once I start, I don’t finish until I’m cleaning the container .
“Cold Chinese is my favorite. Thank you.”
Kip groans. “Sorry, should’ve warmed it up for you. I don’t think of that kind of shit.”
“No, seriously, cold Chinese is my favorite. I’d eat it before every exam in college. Haven’t had it for a while.” I struggle to sit the container on the nightstand.
“Here.” Kip sits up.
“No, go to sleep.” I pat his forearm. “You’ve already done way too much.”
He fiddles with a stray piece of thread from the blanket. “Chloe, just promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Never go back to him. He nearly killed you.”
“I’m so lost.”
He covers the top of my hand. “It’s better to be lost than six feet under.”
I can’t respond as his words nail me in the gut. They are so damn true, but easier said than to actually believe them. I have no idea where on my course of life that I’d lost myself. It’s been years since I’ve seen Chloe in the mirror. I went from a strong and vibrant young woman to a fearful, beaten skeleton.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to use the restroom.”
He points to a door that’s shadowed behind it with light. “Let me know…well if you need any help.”
His voice is unsure from the awkward topic of conversation. I only nod to him and stand up. With my legs steady under me, my head spins, as does everything else in the room. I begin seeing double and then triple of everything and stumble back on to the bed.
Kip’s at my side holding my good elbow.
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“Just get your ground for second.”
My stomach flips and I feel sick. Like the type of sick where I need a toilet and bucket immediately.
“I have to get to the bathroom right now, Kip.” My cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“I’ll guide you.” He steps behind me, wrapping both of his hands around me and walks me forward until I’m in the bathroom.
I look down to my pants and feel even more frustrated. Tears stream without warning. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my sweats and tugs them down. Kip remains behind me and does the same with my underwear. He slowly spins me around until I’m facing him, but never looks down at my parts.
“Sit back.” He nudges me until the cold material of the toilet lid hits my skin. “I’ll be right outside.”
I wipe at the tears with my only arm and nod. Something is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t say a word. The door makes a subdued sound clicking shut. My stomach cringes in pain and I should’ve known better than to wolf down that food. It’s not used to it and mixed with the anesthesia, it isn’t a good combination.
A pale blue wastebasket is near me and I clutch to it. My stomach wrenches in pain once, twice, and then I finally vomit the entire contents of my stomach including nasty bile. The dry heaves echo around the bathroom.
“Chloe, you okay?”
I want to acknowledge him, but can’t between the sobs and dry heaves controlling my body. I lean forward and try to catch myself, feeling my cradled arm in the sling hit the wall and I scream out in pain.
“Chloe.” Kip has the door open, stepping in. His hands are running through his hair and his face is worried.
“I’m fine,” I manage out between sobs.
He turns his back to me.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to look at me right now either.”
“Shut up.”
His two words are point blank and come out in a growl before he starts the water in the sink. In a matter of moments, he’s kneeling in front of me wiping my mouth with one side of the wet cloth and then cleaning the rest of my face.
“Please, don’t.”
He ignores my plea and continues moving about the bathroom, taking the basket from me. Kip leaves the room and returns with his phone, typing something out on it. I want to avoid this uncomfortable situation and make a crack about him texting his girlfriend.
“I’m going to help you stand up.” He laces his arms under mine and pulls me up.
Without warning, he kneels down and drags up the clothes until they’re firmly around my waist again. His actions don’t help the faucet of tears pouring from me.
Kip wraps his arms around me and acts as my crutches until I’m back on the bed. He never lets go of me.
“What’s going on?” A new voice joins the room.
I jump and let out a screech.
“It’s my dad, Chloe.” He places a hand down on my shoulder.
“Everything, okay?” The man scratches his bald head in a white t-shirt and pajama pants. I barely remember his face before falling asleep on the surgery table.
“I gave her Chinese and she threw up. She’s in pain.”
“Oh son, you should’ve known better.”
“She needs to eat.”
They go back and forth like I’m not even sitting here. I soon feel like the third wheel or a hamster perched in a cage in a scientist’s lab.
“He’s right. I was hungry and ate too much,” I finally speak up.
“Go get her crackers, Kip.” His dad steps closer to me. “Minus salami and cheese.”
The doctor shakes his head side to side. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?”
I look up into his eyes like a doe caught in headlights. I’ve been in worse pain, but the pain is bad. I’m not sure how to answer, so I only shrug.
“You need something in your belly before I give you more pain meds. Nibble on the crackers when Kip gets back and take these two pills.” He points to some pills he scatters on the nightstand.
“Thank you.” My bottom lip trembles.
He bends down and places both palms on my knees. “I’m not sure how to approach this since it’s out of the normal, but know you couldn’t be in any better hands than Kip’s.”
I nod.
Kip enters the room with a box of Saltines and cheese in the other.
“Know you too well, son, only crackers for her. Wake me again if the pain persists.” He gives Boozer a pat on the head before walking out.
Kip has me in his arms and places me back in the bed, propping pillows up behind me. He places a handful of crackers in my palm and makes his way to the other side of the bed.
“Try to get at least one down if your stomach can handle it.”
I begin nibbling on the cracker before I have three of them down. My eyes linger over to the pepper jack cheese Kip’s slapping on his crackers. My mouth waters, missing the taste of cheese on my tongue.
I pick the pills up from the bed and swallow them down with a little bit of water, not wanting another chaotic puke session. Kip coughs distracting me, so I pass him the water bottle.
“Thanks.” He gives me a sly smile.
“I have to keep my nurse happy.”
He shakes his head, apparently not impressed with bei
ng called a nurse. My eyes catch the time glaring from the alarm clock.
“I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Kip pops up from the bed. Boozer snags the last slice of cheese as it flies up in the air.
“It’s three in the morning.”
“Good hell, you scared me.”
I laugh lightly. It’s an odd sensation, but warms me. “Sorry, and sorry for waking you in the middle of the night.”
“I thought you’d shit your pants or something.” He smiles wide and even though it’s dim in the room, his perfect white teeth shine.
I laugh hard this time, feeling light all of the sudden and very sleepy. I use my good arm to nudge my body lower into the bed. Kip’s up on his hands and knees wanting to help me.
“I’ve got it. You’ve done enough with potty patrol and all.”
We both share a laugh, but mine fades before his does as my eyes grow heavier. He goes to stand up from the bed, but I manage to catch his wrist in my hand.
“Stay here, please.”
He tilts his head in confusion and points to the cot. “I am.”
“No, here.” I push his hand further down into the mattress. I grow shy and shrug my shoulder. “It might help with the nightmares.”
He doesn’t argue, peeling back the blankets on his side of the bed the best he can with Boozer acting as a blanket weight in the middle.
“Up, boy.”
The dog pops up and then burrows under the blankets between us. I roll over on my side, taking my time and lay my arm over Boozer. The bed dips when Kip gets into his side. He rolls on his side, facing me.
“Sleep tight and no pooping the bed.”
My lazy smile warms my heart. I stretch out my fingers until they find his hard abs. Everything from Boozer and the touch of the man who’s fighting to save me cocoons me in a shelter of safety. It’s a long-lost feeling that I haven’t experienced in ages.
Five
Chloe
The pain strikes me in a terrorizing flash. My eyes flash open once and then one more time before adjusting to the sunlight streaming through the windows. I twist until I’m flat on my back and staring at the popcorn spackling on the ceiling.
Rotating my head, I see the empty bed and cot, then the night before flashes from the airport to the surgery and the bathroom scene. I groan out loud and slap my forehead.
But before I have too long to ridicule myself, Boozer is up on the bed staring down at me. He has the slight trace of drool and curiosity lingers in his eyes.
“Good morning to you, too, Mister.” I reach out and stroke the underside of his neck.
He plops down next to me, approving of the pets and nuzzles. I stare at his face, wishing I had his life. The life of a dog with caring owners, a full food bowl, and the only worry of finding your next bone. But then the flashes of all the beaten and mistreated animals boils up in my thoughts and I laugh sardonically because that’s the dog I’d be.
My bladder screams emergency level status at me.
“Here we go,” I mumble to myself.
Lesson learned, so I take my time sitting up and adjusting before I swing my legs over the side of the bed. It only takes a few moments for the room to stop spinning, so I give my legs a go and sigh when they actually hold me up. The room doesn’t spin, however, the bathroom that’s only ten feet away looks a hundred miles away.
“Morning.”
I look over to Kip leaning up against the door leading into the room. He’s dressed in loose, black gym shorts that are riding low on his hips, his chest is bare with no shirt, leaving nothing to the imagination, and his body is glistening in sweat.
“Morning.”
I feel sick all of the sudden and it’s not like last night. It’s more from last night. I can’t believe I let this man pull down and up my panties and pants. He not only did that, but also helped me sit down on the toilet and wiped the remnants of puke away from my face.
I study the gorgeous tattoos covering his body. It’s art, plain and simple. A large piece covers his chest with wings framing it. It’s so colorful and vibrant it’s hard for my eye to stay in one place too long.
He’s moving towards me and I look up to his face.
“I can do this.” I wave him off and wince like a real champ.
“I’ll just help you one more time.” He holds up both hands with his fingers crossed.
“Okay, poop patrol.” I laugh and then turn red throwing out a poop joke.
Jesus, I need more drugs.
Kip fulfills his promise and is a gentleman just like last night, making sure I’m okay before exiting the bathroom. But this time I stand on my own and wiggle my panties and sweats up before I open the door. I don’t miss the glare he sends my way.
“I have lunch ready for you.” He holds a hand out to me.
“Lunch?” I ask.
“It’s one in the afternoon.”
“Oh.” I grab on to his hand, letting him guide me out to the kitchen.
He settles me down on a barstool before rounding the island in the kitchen. I take in the place in shock and awe. It’s a gorgeous house with intricate trimming and polished off with dark marble on the floor and countertops.
“Nice digs.” I smooth my hand over the marble countertop.
“It’s Dad’s.”
“You live here, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” He runs his hands over his chest. “Don’t really brag about that fact though.”
“Why?” I ask.
“I’m a twenty-eight-year-old living with his daddy.”
“I’m a twenty-five-year-old and wished I had a daddy I liked to live with.”
“You don’t get along with your parents?” he asks as he pulls a plate of lasagna from the oven.
I shrug and not too excited to discuss the topic, but I guess I opened the damn box. “My parents love Zack.”
I exaggerate the word love.
“Dumb fucks.”
I laugh gently. “Yeah, dumb fucks is a mild term for them. My mom tries, but she’s too caught up in being the best wife for her congressman.”
He places the plate in front of me. “Well, she’s a fool.”
He clutches the top of my hand before turning to get utensils and a cold bottle of water from the fridge.
“You going to join me?” I ask.
“Um, that’s the only part left.”
“Gotcha.” I nod and take my first bite. “It’s delicious.”
“Thanks, it’s about the only thing I know how to cook.”
“I approve.”
“Take it slow. My dad may kick my ass if you puke again.” He puts the empty pan in the sink. “I mean, you can eat all you want.”
I laugh. “I understand.”
I take my time, actually enjoying each morsel and pop some more pills while eating. My plate is clean in no time and I’m perched back, patting my belly with my free arm.
“Darby and Ava are coming over tonight.” Kip relaxes back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t think it’s the best idea, but those girls won’t take a no.”
“Yeah, no need explaining that one.”
I run my hands through my hair and get stuck midway, caught in a mess of tangles. The smell wafting from it is putrid.
“Want to shower?”
“Yes, please or I may have swarms of flies buzzing around my head soon.”
Kip takes me back to the bedroom. I’m thankful it’s on the first floor and I don’t have to make my way up the gorgeous spiraling staircase.
“I’ll be right back,” he says.
I sit on the edge of the bed waiting for him. The pain is dull, my stomach is full, and my stink is about to be clean. Kip’s back in no time with some clothes over his forearm and a trash bag clutched in his other hand.
“You’ll have to wear this until the girls come.” He holds up a pair of black boxers and a black t-shirt with Metallica scrawled across the front.
“Thank you.” I fumble w
ith my fingers, wondering how in the hell I’m going to shower when I can barely piss.
Kip doesn’t answer the question plastered on my face with words, but just makes his way to the bathroom and cranks on the shower. He’s in front of me with his hand extended out, waiting on me to take it. I place my hand in his, accepting his help with ease.
It should be embarrassing or at least demeaning, but it’s the guy who packed me through the airport, helped me go to the bathroom, and cleaned my face. We stand facing each other in the bathroom. Boozer nuzzles his way between us, breaking up the tension. I need to buy him a case of treats as soon as I’m able to.
I grab the hem of my shirt and wiggle my good arm from it. I don’t have to ask or make a plan of attack before Kip removes it the rest of the way. The cool air breezes over my nipples, sending them to high attention. Of course, I’d be braless.
Kip doesn’t seem to notice me exposed or at least he doesn’t acknowledge it and I’m thankful for that. He removes the sling and glides the trash bag over the cast. The feel of the pads of his fingers on my skin sends chills all over my body. He silently moves to pull down my pants and panties. I step out of them and turn to the shower.
I have no fucking clue how I’m going to wash every part that needs it so desperately. He opens the door and I step in. He’s right behind me in the shower.
“Your shorts.” I turn to him.
“Would you like me to take them off?” He grins.
“Kip.”
“I’m kidding. Just let me wash your hair for you and then I’ll be out.”
I drop my head to his chest feeling defeated like never before. I’ve never felt so helpless, even when being beaten by Zack. He’d pin me to the floor and repeat blow after blow and even in those times I felt more powerful than I do now.
“You don’t have to watch.”
I hear the sound of a bottle snapping and then his hands are massaging my long-dyed hair. He runs the suds all over before splashing water on to my head. If I picked up my head it would make it so much easier on him, but my soul can’t bear it. He walks us back a step until my hair is under the stream of water.
“Close your eyes. This shit isn’t tear free.” There’s humor in his voice.
