23. Zack
Zack
TEN MONTHS LATER
R ain batters against the window as another summer storm rolls in off the coast. I lie on the couch and watch the drops track down the glass.
A breeze creeps in from where I’ve left it slightly ajar to help stop my body from burning up.
The chills will set in again soon, and when Chloe gets home from work, she’ll turn me into a burrito with every blanket we have in the house.
After the fateful night we met, Chloe and I traveled across states, staying in motels and abandoned buildings.
Taking the time to heal our bruised bodies and fractured minds.
It worked for us for a few months. We laid low, and built new lives for ourselves, took on whatever under-the-table jobs we could find, or stole if we needed to.
When I set up the plan to kill myself, I had already drained my accounts and had the money stashed in my car. It wasn’t much, but it helped us along our way, and we ended up getting enough together to acquire new identities .
Chloe wanted the chance to say a proper goodbye to her mom before we got too far away, so we travelled to her hometown where she found her grave overgrown with flowers. She cried more than I’ve ever seen her do before, and it broke my heart.
After that, we traveled until we found a little home in a sleepy coastal town where we’re still living now.
I tried pushing some gear to make some extra cash, but the temptation was too strong, and I gave in more than once.
The last time I slipped was when Chloe was out of the house.
I hated myself for it. I grew so paranoid that she wasn’t going to come home because she somehow knew what I’d done and left me.
High off my face, I walked to her work, and she cried when she saw the state I was in.
Vomit down my shirt, and barely able to walk straight.
That was the moment I knew I had to stop for good.
I promised myself and Chloe that I’d quit. This time it’ll stick. I can feel it in my chilled bones.
We mostly keep to ourselves here. Chloe works at the local diner in the evenings as her new persona, Mia.
It pains me to have her away from me when we’re always looking over our shoulders, waiting for the rug to be pulled away from us after everything we did, but she wants to provide for us as well.
The last thing I’m going to do is deprive her of what she wants after those fuckers at the convent kept her locked away for years.
Especially not when her new life brings her so much joy.
I’ve never seen someone smile as much or as genuinely as Chloe does.
The tiniest things brighten her day, like when she hears a new song on the radio or if she spots a dog on one of our late afternoon walks.
She’s devouring the world around her, and it feels like a true miracle that I get to witness her get her life back .
Chloe decided to anonymously drop off Christopher’s notebook at a police station.
Nothing’s come of it on the news. There haven’t been any raids on convents or a scandal on corruption within the church.
Without the tape or a detailed confession, there’s nothing to link it all.
But I see the way Chloe stares off into the distance sometimes.
She feels guilty that everything that happened to her is still happening now.
Soon enough, she’ll have an outlet for that grief.
I have a surprise for her. Two surprises, actually.
I’m just waiting for the perfect moment.
Which is not now. The last thing I want to do is propose when I’m covered in sweat and vomiting every twenty minutes because I’m going cold turkey.
I must manage to fall asleep for a bit, because when I wake up Chloe is home and my head is on her lap.
“Morning, baby.” She smiles down at me. Her hair is stuck to her forehead from being caught in the rain.
It seems to have let up now. The low light filters in through the window, and gives her warm tan skin a heavenly glow.
Her freckles stand out, and it’s hard not to get lost in their pretty constellation.
I get to wake up to this view every morning.
I never used to imagine my future. The old me didn’t think I deserved one.
Sometimes the nightmares come, and there’s this split second before I fully wake where the thought of death swirls in like a dark fog in my mind.
But then it burns away with Chloe’s light, and I remember exactly why I’m still living.
“How are you feeling?” I watch her lips as she talks. After getting shot in the ear, I lost some of my hearing. Chloe always makes sure to speak on my good side and to let me read her lips if I need to .
She presses her hand to my forehead, and frowns. “You’re hot.”
“I’m fine. How was work?”
She ignores my question. “You’re not fine. I knew I should have taken some time off to stay and look after you.”
“I’m not a baby,” I mumble grumpily and close my eyes as she strokes my forehead.
“If you’re not a baby then I suppose you don’t want the chicken noodle soup and cherry pie I brought home from work for you.”
“You did?” I peek an eye open.
“Yes. But it’s only for babies so...”
“Chloe. I may be sick, but I can still spank you. Come here.” I sit up and pull her over my lap, flipping her little skirt up and swatting her ass. She giggles and makes a weak attempt at getting away. “Let’s move to bed. I’ve missed you so much, darlin’.”
I hook my arms under her body and stand up, but immediately flop back down onto the couch as nausea hits me. With a groan, I lean back, and she slips free from my arms.
She stands in front of me with her hands on her hips. “You’ve not eaten all day, have you?”
“No, not been hungry.”
“Well, now that I’m home you can try some soup, then I’ll give you a bath and we’ll go to bed.”
I manage to give her a charming smirk. “You gonna join me in the tub?”
“Zack,” she says sternly, and I sigh in defeat.
“Fine.”
She ends up spoon feeding me a quarter of the soup. It’s all I can manage before my stomach starts cramping. Then she helps me in the bath and puts me to bed. I hold her tight under the covers.
Neither of us are able to get any sleep.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask.
Chloe wriggles in my arms as she finds a comfier position.
“Do you…is this…” She huffs out a breath in irritation.
Is she disappointed in me?
“I’m really trying, darlin’.”
She quickly turns in my arms and presses her palm to my cheek. Her fingers brush over the scar on my ear. “I know you are, baby. And I’m so proud of you. We’ll get through this,” she whispers softly, and snuggles into my chest.
We’ll.
Fuck, that one word sounds good. It gives me hope that I really will get through it.
And I know I will, because I have her.
Three weeks later, I’m able to finally leave the house again. I no longer feel like I have a constant flu. Once my fever broke, Chloe put me on bed rest until I was able to stay awake for longer than a few hours at a time.
I felt like such a mess of a man, a complete waste of space. She should be out living her life, not caring for me every spare moment she has. But I’m too selfish to tell her that. I enjoyed every moment of her taking care of me. Anyway, I know she’s way too stubborn to leave me.
This morning, I left her asleep in bed and went out to get some air and stretch my legs. Not only have I managed to secure myself a job at the docks, which has similar hours to Chloe’s, I also found a used acoustic guitar in the vintage music shop in town.
When I get home, I put it away in the closet.
I’m not exactly hiding it from Chloe. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to face that part of myself quite yet.
The teenager who didn’t love or care about anything other than himself.
The one who just wanted to make something of himself and leave it all behind.
Which would have included Kat, if she hadn’t left me first.
I still see her. I don’t think she’ll ever leave me for good. I’m getting used to it now. It’s less of a jump scare when I turn a corner and see her. Sometimes she’s smiling like she just got home from a good day at college; other times she’s screaming for help.
The guilt will never fade, but with Chloe’s help I’m finding it easier to manage. She can tell when I’ve frozen up, and all it takes is her gripping my hand to bring me back to life.
I softly close the closet door and slip into bed with Chloe. She’s only had a couple of hours sleep since her shift ended, and I don’t want to wake her so I don’t cuddle in.
Being careful to be quiet, I pull open the nightstand drawer.
My knife is still there. I take it out and twirl the blade in my fingers.
It’s a shame I’ve not had chance to use it.
There have been plenty of times I’ve wanted to.
Like when some old pervert eyes Chloe up at the diner or a stranger smiles a little too nicely at her in the street.
I’ve had more than a few fantasies of fucking her drenched in blood again.
Maybe one day it’ll happen again. I don’t want to burst her happy little bubble just yet.
Now that I’m feeling more like myself, I’ve been able to think a lot more clearly. The old me would have slaughtered the entire town and dragged her away. But she’s happy here, and if this is enough for her then it’s enough for me.
I put the knife back and pick up the tin next to it. It rattles in my palm, and I quickly check that the sound hasn’t woken Chloe up. Thankfully, she’s still asleep. I don’t need her seeing this.
Popping it open gives my body the same familiar urge as it used to.
That need to consume and forget. To feel and not feel all at once.
I’ll always be an addict. I could blame my shitbag of a dad for making me this way since he’s a drunk himself, but that would give him credit that he doesn’t deserve.
He’s not the one who slaughtered the men who hurt Kat.
He cared that she died, she was his favorite after all, but he’s always been weak.
Even if he knew that the reason she killed herself was because she was brutally raped, he wouldn’t have done anything.
Just like he did nothing to help us after Mom died and he did nothing to help himself stop drinking.
I feel at peace as I stare at the contents of the tin. Inside it is my addiction; it’s what gives me purpose. With a smile on my face, I pick up the ring from inside and hold it up.
Chloe has given me countless chances, and she’ll never stop giving me more because she’s good like that. Too good for me. I instantly became addicted to Chloe’s light, and she offers it to me freely each day.
I’m lost in the fantasy of her when she stirs in her sleep, rolling over with a soft groan and draping her arm over my stomach. I quietly hide the ring away and settle into bed with her. My Chloe. My little sinner. My love.