Breaking the Cycle

by Tricia Andersen

  The sound grew louder. It wasn’t the sound of crying or violence. It wasn’t the sound of a wayward cat. It was the sound of retching. And it had come from behind a dumpster. The one weak street lamp hanging from the building revealed a strappy sandal attached to a limp foot. Max leapt into a sprint until he reached the dumpster.

  Chloe lay half in, half out of a puddle, her beautiful burgundy dress ruined in the stagnant, putrid water. Her hair was matted to her face, her barrette hanging by one thin lock. What had originally been her dinner was piled near her pale face. Her expression contorted as she began to vomit again.

  “Chloe!” Max kneeled beside her, scooping her into his embrace. He stared into her eyes. They were vacant. There wasn’t a glimmer of recognition in the glassy depths. There was just nothing. Her whole body was limp in his arms. He shook her gently. “Chloe, hey! Wake up!”

  She responded by turning her head and vomiting what little was left in her stomach onto his shirt. Then, she collapsed onto his chest, her breath labored.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m taking you to the hospital.” Max picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He carefully made his way down the city streets to his car.

  Max wasn’t sure just how fast he drove. Moments later, he pulled into the first available spot in the parking lot of the hospital. Chloe had retched the entire ride to the hospital, her stomach long past empty. Her lips were starting to turn dry, and her skin grew paler. Whatever illness she had come down with had hit her quick and hard. Max was just thankful he’d had an empty plastic bag in his backseat.

  He lifted her from her seat and raced into the emergency room, holding her close to him as he ran. He stopped breathlessly at the receptionist’s desk. She handed him a clipboard without taking her eyes off her computer screen. A growl escaped his throat as he struggled to grasp it from beneath the limp woman in his arms.

  He dropped into a chair in the waiting area, setting Chloe next to him. He stared blankly at the form, which demanded vital information on her. He filled out her name and address before returning it to the woman behind the front desk.

  He reached into the purse he had found next to Chloe and pulled out her cell phone. He scrolled through her address book until he reached her mom’s number. Dialing it, he waited quietly. He took a deep breath as the voicemail popped on. He left a brief message then ended the call. Max picked up Chloe as the nurse called her name and followed close behind as she led him into a treatment room. He laid Chloe onto the gurney then watched nervously as the nurse took her vitals. The nurse dropped a basin onto Chloe’s lap as she started again. How can one woman throw up this much?

  The doctor swept in as the nurse finished up. He looked up at Chloe and moaned. “Great. Not her again. Start her on IV fluids and Zofran.”

  “What do you mean ‘not her again’?” Max demanded.

  The doctor scanned him from head to toe. “Who are you?”

  “Max. Max Thomas.”

  “And you’re with her, why?”

  “I took her on a date. Why is it any of your business?”

  The doctor chuckled. “Dude, let me give you some advice. Run. Don’t get into it with this girl. She has some massive baggage. She’s constantly in here looking for attention doing…” He waved his hand at the limp Chloe. “This. Forcing herself to throw up. She’s going to cling to you like a second skin. So, get out while you can.”

  Max glared at him as he pried her mouth open with a gloved thumb. “Yep, she’s gone too far this time. She’s dehydrated.” He turned to the nurse. “Call upstairs and have them prepare a room. She’s staying.”

  The two medical professionals disappeared around the corner, leaving Max alone with Chloe. What the doctor had just said didn’t make sense to him. Chloe was the least clingy person he knew. When she wasn’t happily interacting with her clients and co-workers, she was quiet and kept to herself.

  “Who are you?”

  Max spun around. An older woman stood in the doorway, her icy stare piercing through him.

  “I’m Max.”

  “And you’re standing here with my daughter, why?”

  Max glanced from her to Chloe. “I took her on a date. I don’t know what happened.”

  The older woman sneered at him. “Well, Max, you can leave. I’ll take care of my daughter now. You wouldn’t know how to handle the imbeciles that work here.”

  Max stared at her in disbelief for several moments. Then, he took one last look at Chloe before he slipped from the room.

  »»•««

  Three days passed without a word. And he worried every second. Most of the time, he stared into space, distracted by his thoughts. He snapped back to attention as he heard his name called.

  “Max, dude! A little help here, please?”

  Max shook himself back to reality then grasped the bench press bar, lifting it from the hands of the struggling body builder. The muscle-bound man turned and glared at him. “You okay, buddy?”

  “Yeah, fine,” Max answered. But he was far from fine. All he could think about was his date with Chloe. Epic disaster. He felt like a complete jerk for not going back to the hospital to see if she was all right. Not that her mother would let me. That witch would have thrown me out herself. On top of all that, the doctor’s warning to get as far away from Chloe as possible kept ringing in his ears.

  Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe he did need to get as far away from Chloe as possible. She certainly didn’t want him.

  He turned as he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Speak of the devil…

  The object of his thoughts shuffled across the fitness area, toward the employee locker room. She was ghostly pale, and her shoulders were hunched. Her eyes, shaded with dark circles, were glued to the floor.

  “Chloe, can I talk to you a minute?” Roadie called from the doorway of his office. To stay close to his clients, he had his office right off the main cardio and weight equipment. It was a real lifesaver until now. Today, as the eyes of every employee and almost all of the clientele were focused on the scene between Roadie and Chloe, Max wished the office was in the basement.

  She raised her head. Without speaking, she slowly crossed over to him.

  “You’re a valuable asset to this company,” Roadie began, his booming voice silencing treadmills and weight machines. Max looked around at all the faces focused on the scene. “But I need you here to be that asset.”

  “I know, Roadie,” Chloe protested. “I’ve been sick. I’ve tried talking to you about this.”

  “It seems you’re always sick, Chloe. Which makes me question how someone so physically fit can always be so ill. I’ve tried to be accommodating but I can’t keep trying to work my schedule around this mystery illness of yours. It’s not fair to the others.”

  Chloe didn’t answer. Instead, she bit her lower lip as tears filled her eyes.

  Roadie continued, “I’m going to have to let you go, Chloe. Please, clean out your locker.”

  Chloe sobbed as she spun on her toe and dashed for the locker room. Slowly, the whirl of elliptical and stationary bikes filled the air again.

  Max stormed toward Roadie and grasped the older man by the shoulder. “That was uncalled for, Roadie,” he growled.

  “What, Max? You’ve covered enough of her classes to realize she has to go.”

  “You publicly humiliated her! And, for the record, she was sick. She was in the hospital.”

  “Yes, her mother informed me quite loudly. What would you have me do?”

  “She’s been sick every third Thursday, like clockwork. Even I figured that out. Maybe you could have picked up on her pattern and just given her that day off? Or was that too simple?”

  Roadie’s eyes drew to slits as he glared at Max. “If you’d like to join Chloe on the unemployment line, keep it up.”

  Max stared angrily at him in silence for several moments before he stalked off to the free weights area.

  »»•««

&nb
sp; Max drove down the interstate, barely paying attention to the road. For the last week and a half, he couldn’t get Chloe out of his mind. Her laughter from their date echoed in his ears. Seeing her so sick she didn’t recognize him twisted a knife in his heart. Seeing her running from Roadie’s Gym in tears made him feel helpless and pathetic. Not knowing how she was, what she was doing, was driving him insane.

  He glanced briefly at his smart phone for the time, but instead caught the date. Thursday. He paused for a moment. Should I see if my hunch is right? Can I handle what I’m going to find? He nudged his turn signal on as he caught the next exit out of the corner of his eye.

  Max turned the car off and stepped out. He stared at the old, large, white house for a moment before he jogged up the porch steps. He knocked on the door and waited. And waited. And waited. Hearing the television on inside, he knew someone was home. He knocked again.

  Finally, the front door was wrenched open violently. It’s the witch. Chloe’s mom glared at him. Her eyes seared through him.

  “Is Chloe home?” Max asked, his voice cracking weakly.

  “Now’s not a good time, Mike.”

  “Max.”

  “Whatever. Get off my porch.”

  He glanced down at the stains covering her sweatshirt. “Is she sick?”

  “Yes. She’s in the bathroom. Thanks for stopping by.”

  As her mother pushed the door closed, he could hear the sound of retching coming from upstairs. He felt his heart twist at the sound.

  “Excuse me.” Max pushed the door open gently then slipped past her toward the staircase. He took the steps two at a time and came to a stop at the bathroom door, ignoring her mother’s shouts as he sprinted upstairs.

  Inside, Chloe lay on the cold, tile floor with a bucket near her. Her head rested on a rolled up towel. She didn’t turn to look at him, about as aware of him as she was in that alley. Her body started to writhe as she vomited again.

  He kneeled beside her and held her in his arms, helping her to the bucket to keep the mess off the floor. When the retching stopped, she slumped against him weakly. He pushed a sweat soaked lock of brown hair from her forehead as he gazed at her pale, sunken face.

  “So, want to stick around?” Chloe’s mom hissed from the doorway. “She’s not done yet. Are you all right with your precious, expensive athletic wear getting all messed up? You wouldn’t be the first person to walk out on her. Her own father couldn’t be bothered to stick around.”

  Max held her tighter to him as he scowled at the older woman. “They’re just clothes. They wash.”

  She stared at him, looking dumbfounded for several moments. Max felt Chloe jerk against him. He supported her as she puked again. “So, this is what happens every three weeks.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have to take her to the hospital?”

  “Hopefully not.” Chloe’s mom watched him silently as he settled Chloe back into his arms. “My name’s Liz.”

  “Nice to meet you, Liz.”

  She smiled at him. “Can I get you a soda?”

  “Water would be fine.”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.” Liz disappeared down the hall.

  Max listened to her footsteps pat down the stairs. Then he turned back to Chloe, gently stroking her cheek. She relaxed, the tension that had once ripped through her now dissolving. Max shifted, crossing his legs to get more comfortable on the hard floor.

  Liz reappeared, stepping over the two of them to sit on the edge of the bathtub. She handed the glass to him.

  “She seems to have calmed down,” Max murmured.

  “That’s good news. Hopefully, she’s done.”

  “Then?”

  “She’ll be out for a little while.”

  He glanced around at the puddles on the floor and the fluid in the bucket. With what he just witnessed, he could only imagine how exhausted Chloe had to be. He hadn’t been that sick with the worst stomach flu. After doing something like that every three weeks, it was amazing she could even function.

  They sat in silence for nearly a half hour. Then, Liz smiled. “She’s done.”

  Max cradled Chloe in his arms and carefully stood. “Where’s her room?”

  Liz rose and motioned to him. “Follow me.”

  She led him to a white room. The furniture was also painted white, and the bed was covered with a rose-colored quilt. Max pulled the quilt back and gently laid Chloe on the sheets. He covered her then pressed a kiss to her forehead. Glancing at Liz, he strode from the room.

  “You’re leaving?” Liz asked incredulously, as she spun to follow him.

  She stopped short as he walked into the bathroom and kneeled on the floor. He looked at her from over his shoulder. “Do you have a towel, or scrub brush, or soap, or anything for this?” He gestured to the puddles.

  He met her stunned gaze evenly then smiled as she rushed down the hallway to get him a scrub brush and soap.

  Chapter Two

  Chloe stretched her arms and legs stiffly as her senses re-emerged from her deep sleep. Wow, that one really knocked me out. She forced her eyes open then quickly shut them again. She shivered as Max’s fingers brushed her hair from her forehead.

  What’s the hottest guy at Roadie’s doing in my bedroom? She was suddenly ashamed by her clothes. With as violent as this go round had been, there certainly had to be dried evidence on her T-shirt and pajama bottoms. She could feel the heat of embarrassment radiate from her cheeks. As pale as she probably was, her blush certainly had to be evident.

  “Wake up, sleepy head,” Max crooned.

  She opened her eyes and stared at him warily as she sat up. Wow, he’s so cute. Why does he want anything to do with me after that disastrous date? “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see how you were doing. I did the math and realized this was the third Thursday. When I got here and saw what was going on, I thought I would stay and help.”

  “And what a huge help he’s been,” Liz agreed warmly as she leaned against the doorframe to Chloe’s bedroom. “Hey, muffin. How’re you feeling?”

  “Great, Mom.”

  “Do you want me to order the pizza?”

  “Sure. Canadian bacon and pineapple, please.”

  “Great. I’ll get a pepperoni, too, since there are three of us.” Liz disappeared down the hall toward the stairs. Her footsteps echoed as she descended the stairs. Chloe’s heart raced as she met Max’s blue eyes.

  “Chloe, are you sure?” he asked with concern. “You threw up a lot. I could go get you some crackers or toast or ginger ale.”

  “It’s okay, Max. It happens every time. My stomach sort of demands it. Pizza delivered is sort of my treat for surviving one more of these.”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Since I was five.”

  “You’re saying you’ve been throwing up like this every three weeks for over twenty years?”

  “More than that. I will start in if I’m put under a lot of stress too.” Like your incredible kiss.

  “Have you gone to a specialist about it?”

  Chloe sighed. I so don’t want to go over this again, especially with someone as hot and perfect as Max Thomas. He is going to think I’m a loser. “I’ve gone to over a dozen different doctors. None of them can figure it out.”

  “And your mom’s been taking care of you all this time? What about your dad?”

  “He left when I was eight. He couldn’t handle a constantly barfing kid.”

  She braced herself for his condescending remarks or unwarranted advice. It always came. Instead, he reached out and caressed her cheek as she smiled. “I’m sorry, Chloe. What a lousy way to grow up. How’s your new boss taking this?”

  She felt tears burn her eyes. “What new boss? I’ve applied. I’ve even gone on a couple of interviews. But when they call my past employers for a referral, my attendance comes up. The last place I interviewed with told me Roadie was really harsh.

  “I
can’t be covered under my mom’s insurance. I have huge medical bills, car payments, and no job. Mom is calling a realtor to sell the house to get some money. She loves this house. She can’t sell it. I just don’t know what to do.” She choked on a sob as she buried her face in her hands.

  Suddenly, she was smothered in comforting warmth as Max hugged her tight. “I’ll help you figure something out, Chloe. I promise.”

  She really hoped he was telling her the truth. She was out of ideas.

  Chloe hid herself in Max’s arms for several moments, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Then, she pulled away and smiled at him. “Max, if you don’t mind, I want to get a quick shower. I’m a mess.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll wait downstairs for you with your mom,” he volunteered.

  “Thank you.”

  He slowly let her go as he stood. Glancing at her one last time, he drifted down the hall. Chloe sighed sadly. She wanted to hope that Max Thomas would be willing to help her. But Max was incredibly sexy. His smile made every girl’s knees melt. His beautiful blue eyes made their hearts race. Her Zumba classes would come to a screeching halt when Max walked by. The students would stop dancing and race to the window just for a peek of his perfect body. Why would someone who could have any girl he wanted stay to take care of someone who was as sick as her?

  She shook her head. He might be a good friend. But would he be a good enough friend to really stick it out when her own father wouldn’t?

  Chloe slowly lifted herself off the bed, crossing her room on wobbly legs. She opened a drawer of her dresser to dig out a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants then made her way to the shower.

  »»•««

  Max stepped inside Hard Drive. It was deserted. He glanced around. He had heard quite a bit about this place. The owner had been hounding him non-stop for years to train there. Until now, Max had turned him down. Training there would bring to life a past he would rather forget.