by Bellus,HJ
The next time I open my eyes, Kip is much hairier and slobbering. It’s Boozer who’s taken his spot in the bed.
“Morning, boy.” I pat his head and he cuddles closer.
I roll over to my back and stretch my good arm up, wiggling away signs of sleep. When I sit up, I’m not dizzy or even feeling any pain. The first thing I notice is that my heavy hair isn’t coating my shoulders. It feels good, almost like a bit of freedom.
“Sleep okay?”
I look up to Kip standing in the doorway to the bathroom with a toothbrush dangling from his lips. He’s fresh from the shower with a towel tied around his waist.
“I did. Actually.”
“Love the hair.” He winks at me before turning back to the bathroom.
I hear the water running and him spitting out the toothpaste before he comes back into the room. I find myself playing with the short ends of my hair and feel a bit victorious.
“I have an idea,” Kip announces when he walks back in.
I raise both eyebrows in question and wait for him to spill it.
“Let’s go on a road trip.”
“A road trip?” I ask, feeling my nerves flare up.
“You feel good enough to ride on the back of my bike? It’s about a thirty minute drive.”
“Honestly?”
He nods.
“I feel up to it health wise, but mentally it’s like I’m just beginning to feel comfortable here now.”
“It’s a place I went to after all my shit went down on the force. I’m assuming you know about it from your comment last night.”
“Sorry.” I look down at my cotton candy pink painted toes. “Darby told me.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Glad she told you. We have more in common than you know.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Think about it. We could leave for three or four days. I think it would really help you.”
“I’ll think about it.” I nod.
He walks out of the bedroom and I’ll admit I followed his strong backside until he vanished into the hall. The man is so opposite of Zack in every single way. He’s tatted, tanned, muscular, and dark in his own way. He’s the stereotypical man every woman should be terrified of.
Zack is clean cut, professional, all-American, and the man every mother wants their daughter to marry. But he’s the devil. Where Kip is the unconventional angel.
I pick up the cellphone Ava left me the first night and dial her number.
“Wello.”
“Charlie.”
“Momma, Momma, Momma.”
I hear some rustling and then Ava’s voice comes over the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Chloe.”
“Morning.” Her words are cut off by a screeching Charlie and then I think I hear Ava gag.
“Um, are you okay?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m knocked up. I’ve been fighting morning sickness non-stop.”
“Oh my God, Ava. Congrats.”
“Thanks. Zane has been dying for me to take a test, but I don’t need to know. I’m exhausted and dry heaving twenty-four seven.”
“Well, at least your beaver will be shiny when you go to the doctor.” I giggle.
“That it is. What’s up?”
I nearly forgot the reason for calling. “So, Kip wants to take me away for a few days. Says it’s a place he’s gone to when he was in a bad spot.”
“How do you feel about it?” she asks with trepidation in her voice.
“I’m not sure.”
“Why?”
“Well, I don’t want to experience another panic attack and I like it here.”
“I get that, but don’t you think it would be good for you to get out of your comfort zone?”
An evil laugh escapes me. “I don’t even know what a comfort zone is or if they even exist.”
“Honestly, Chloe, I think it would be good for you. A few days away to gather some thoughts and make a game plan.”
“A game plan?” I fiddle with the loose thread on the hem of my nightshirt.
“The next steps in life like divorcing Zack and taking your life back.”
“He won’t allow it. I just know it.”
“He won’t have a choice, Chloe. You need to heal and take your life back.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“We’ll be here for you.”
“I’m afraid he’ll kill me, Ava.”
“I can’t promise anything, but I do know it’s time for you to take a stand.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, how about I pack some beach clothes and Charlie and I will come over to help you pack.”
“How do you know he’s taking me to a beach? Is this a staged intervention?” I begin to panic thinking this is all a set-up.
“Dumbass, we live on the coast. It’s a guess, but if you want to lounge around in sweats on a beach then by all means.”
“Fine, get over here.”
“Give us thirty minutes.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you, too,” Ava replies.
“Daddy, love you.”
Charlie chants in the background before I end the call.
After using the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and washing my face, I find Kip in the kitchen with music blaring. I wonder for a moment if the fast paced songs are from his stripper list. I cannot picture him wiggling his wiener on stage. I bet it kills him.
“Bacon?” He crooks an eyebrow at me.
“That’s dangerous.” I point.
He peers down searching for what I’m pointing out.
“That’s like cooking 101 there, you never fry bacon shirtless.”
“Oh, really?” he asks.
I climb up onto the barstool and prop my elbows on the cool marble countertop. “Very dangerous for several reasons.”
I decide to shut up and drink the orange juice he hands me. I’m not just talking about the possibility of him being burned, but also about the potential of him lighting women’s panties on fire.
“My dad’s a doctor.” He shrugs.
Katy Perry’s song “This Is How We Do” begins blaring over the speakers and it makes me laugh.
“Didn’t figure you for a teeny bopper jammer.” I cover my mouth, trying to stop the laughter.
“Working on my dance moves and shits,” he grunts out.
“For your wiener whistling show?”
“Jesus, did Darby tell you my blood type, too?”
“Type O.” I wave, taking a wild guess.
Kip slides over a plate of perfectly cooked bacon. I despise burnt bacon and am pretty sure it should be illegal in all fifty states.
“Over easy eggs okay?”
“Perfect, thank you.”
He leans back on the counter across from me and begins eating.
“You know what, Kip? You’re going to make someone a fine piece of ass one day.”
He bites back a laugh and only nods.
“I’ll go. Ava is coming over in a bit to help me pack.”
“Great. You’ll love it. It’s a peaceful beach house of my dad’s in a quiet little town. It’s helped me in some pretty damn dark times. If nothing else you’ll be able to clear your mind.”
“Thank you, Kip.” I swirl around the little bit of eggs left on my plate. “I’m really scared of the next steps.”
“It’s normal.”
“He’s not going to be happy.”
“They never are. I saw it happen year after year when I was on the force.”
“I’m afraid he’ll kill me.”
“You took the first steps before he could. He’ll be pissed you stood up for yourself.” Kip’s words become choked and it’s like with each one that escapes his mouth, it becomes harder to talk. “When I was little…my mom.”
The sound of the front door opening and Charlie yelling her “wello” stops him. The little angel comes running down the hall with a dump truck under her arm and hair flying in e
very direction.
“Charlie, I told you to knock.”
“Hi.” She smiles up at me.
I hold my good hand out to her and she takes it without reservation, hoists her hot pink sneaker on the bar and climbs into my lap. Her total trust and openness inspires me to try.
“Pretty.” She plays with the ends of my new haircut.
“Thank you.”
She then pets the side of her hair and repeats the words. That’s when I see some of her hair missing.
“Yep, found the scissors.” Ava plops down a few bags.
“Oh no.” I cover my mouth to hide my smile.
Charlie turns to Kip, petting her hack job. “Pretty.”
“I like it.” He nods.
Ava sends him a glare, warning him to not encourage her.
“Charlie.” I tap her shoulder until she faces me. “Big girls go to a salon to get their hair pretty. I’ll take you next time. No scissors.”
“Okay. Momma mad.”
“She may be my twin, but she has all of Zane’s defiance and strong will,” Ava says.
“Hungry.” Charlie rubs her belly.
Kip stands up from his leaning position to make her a plate and then hands it to her.
“I’m going into town to tie up some loose ends. Be ready in a couple hours.” He stares at me and I nod to him.
Ava helps Charlie with her food, but most of the time Charlie swats her away. We don’t talk until the roar of Kip’s engine vanishes.
“Darby made some really solid connections when she went through her shit back home. There are some great detectives who aren’t on anybody’s payroll and believe in the justice system. She’s making some calls to figure out your options.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, it may seem bleak now, but there are really some good guys out there that will help us out.”
Charlie leaps from my lap and tears off towards Boozer. The dog is less than amused as Charlie lays on his back and begins tapping all of his facial features, naming the parts.
“She’s hell on wheels. Never stops.” Ava stares at her daughter.
“I love her. She cracks me up.”
“I just need energy to keep up with her.”
“You will.” I grab Ava’s hand. “When I get back. I want to come over and help out.”
I know it’s a sensitive topic with my baggage, but hope in time I’ll be able to be an active part of all their lives.
“I’ll take you up on that. I have a few editorial spots in magazines to write, but can’t seem to ever find the time.”
“Deal,” I beam with a wide smile.
Ava begins pulling clothes from a bag. “Okay, I brought you a few sun dresses, bikinis, and shorts.”
“Jesus, that looks like floss,” I say picking up a bright yellow string bikini.
“Zane threatened to throw that one away, so I hid it in the back of a drawer. You can have it.”
Ava plugs in a straightener under the bar top and goes about doing my hair without question. We fall into easy conversation about our futures and even enjoy a laugh or a hundred with Charlie’s antics.
“Do you want a boy?”
Ava shrugs. “Zane claims he wants me pregnant the rest of my life. The man loves me pregnant.”
“Your poor vagina.”
“No shit. I think if we have a boy we’ll be done. He’ll be getting snipped no matter how sexy he thinks I am pregnant.”
“Oh good lord. Good luck with that.”
“I’ll have Darby drug him and then we’ll drag his ass in.”
“I can so see that happening, too.”
“Your hair is on point.” Ava hands me her phone that’s on selfie mode.
“I actually like it and hell it looks like my face has gained five pounds over the last three days.”
“You look good, momma.”
“Thanks, Ava.”
Fourteen
Chloe
Kip has our small tote bags secured in the saddlebags on his motorcycle. He’s assured me the house is fully furnished even with toiletries so our packing was light. He’s in sexy black boots, loose blue jeans, and a tight black tank top. His snapback facing forwards and deep brown eyes hidden by his sunglasses.
It’s effortless when he hops on the motorcycle. His dad was less than amused with our plan, but he gave me the okay to take the sling off even though I haven’t had it on much. He also encouraged me to try and not nurse it as much. When I get back he’ll be changing the cast.
“Hold onto my shoulder,” Kip says.
I place my palm on the top of his shoulder and try not to clock him with my cast when I swing my leg and arm over his other side. I manage to get halfway on the back of the bike and just have to scoot the rest of the way on. He’d offered me a helmet and I know it’s probably the smart thing to do, but there’s something about the wind in my hair and the freedom I’m looking forward to. His dad warned us about the law, etc. But I guess we’re just being kids.
When I’m finally centered behind Kip with my feet on pegs, I let out a bated breath.
“You can hold onto me.”
“Swear you don’t bite?” I ask, feeling uncomfortable with the proximity. It’s really an absurd feeling considering we’ve been sharing a bed and our little make-out session. We haven’t come close to doing that again.
“Promise.”
“Tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”
“Just hold on, Chloe.” He kicks the bike to life and I’m shocked by the roar and vibration. The humming of the engine is powerful and liberating.
His last words are meant for my safety on the back of the bike, but for some reason they mean so much more to me. Kip clearly loves to drive his bike and he speeds down the highway. I only remain glued to his back for the first few miles until I grow comfortable and even a bit daring.
I keep my arm with the cast wrapped around his front and resting on his thigh, but I keep my other one on my lap, adjusting my glasses every once in awhile. At each stop sign and light, Kip turns back to me making sure I’m okay. The last time he turned to me, I couldn’t help but kiss his cheek instead of answering with words.
On the back of his bike, I feel like an angel with wings that are ready to fly. I can already tell Kip was spot on with this idea. I was comfortable in the house and with my friends, but it was a daily reminder of my fragile state. Being out of there, I feel nearly normal again with the heavy cast as my only reminder.
“This is amazing,” I whisper holler into his ear as we zoom down the road.
He only responds with reaching back and squeezing the top of my thigh. Soon, salty ocean water fills the air and even loud crashing from the ocean wracking the beach can be heard over the roar of the engine. Kip pulls into a tiny beach town. It has ten shops lining a boardwalk with beach homes scattered about.
He pulls up in front of a place called Bennett’s and kills the engine.
“Best food in town,” he says, keeping the bike upright.
It takes me a minute to wedge myself to the side of the bike until the tip of my Cons touch the street and then I’m able to swing my leg off the back of the bike. I miss his head again by mere centimeters with my cast. My arm only pangs with tiny flashes of pain.
“I want one.” I sound like a little girl.
Kip shakes his head once standing. “Baby steps, tiger, baby steps.”
“That was amazing. Thank you, Kip.”
He swings his hat around backwards on his head, grabs my hand, and leads us up to the restaurant.
“We can order and then eat outside. Sound okay?”
“Perfect.” I give his hand an extra squeeze.
Holding hands in public is a tender display from loving couples. But this is different. It’s an act of safety and protection. It’s my shield and I like it.
Kip orders a crab salad and a hamburger. I go for the chicken tenders with a basket of fries. The restaurant is laid back and very packed. It pushes my comfort leve
l of being around other people in such a small area. I grip Kip’s hand tighter and keep my cast to my chest.
He grabs most of the condiments and our table number then guides me out to the front deck. When the slight breeze hits the skin on my face the feeling of freedom hits me again. I’m happy and it’s weird.
Kip pulls out a chair for me, settles in his own, and begins drumming the table with his fingers.
“I love this place.” Kip relaxes back in his seat, pulling his glasses from his face.
“It’s gorgeous,” I reply.
“Dad bought it when I was ten. He’d bring me here a lot when I was little.”
“Your dad is awesome.”
“He is. My saving grace.”
I remember him telling me bits about his mom, but nothing solid. My gut tells me it’s a subject not to broach.
“Like you’re my saving grace.” I smile at him. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough, Kip.”
“There’s no need to.”
“I’m going to pick my nose if you don’t start accepting my thanks.”
“What if I think nose picking is sexy?”
I wrinkle my nose and wonder for a moment if that really is a fetish. “You’re gross.”
Kip doesn’t respond, so I do. “Thank you for everything.”
“Look.” He sits back up in his chair. “I’m a guarded person, but I haven’t been around you, since picking you up off the bedding on the floor in the shelter. I’m not sure what it is.”
“Why are you guarded?” I offer a half smile. “I mean you do know quite a bit about me and Kip, you’re a great person and need to accept gratitude.”
“I hold myself responsible for a lot of shit that’s happened in my life.”
“Your partner?” I put my hand over my mouth and shake my head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
Kip sticks his finger up his nose until he’s knuckle deep.
“Eeewww.” I cover my eyes. “I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry.”
I peek through my fingers to make sure Kip’s digit isn’t still knuckle deep. He laughs then excuses himself to the bathroom, where I can only guess he’s washing his hands. Our food arrives before he makes it back. I sneak a few pieces of the crab off his salad before he returns and I almost regret not ordering it.
