Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chloe startled awake. The bedroom was dark, but for the dim illumination of the stove light she’d left on in the kitchen, and there was a masculine silhouette in the doorway. For a moment, fear raced through her until she remembered where she was. “Erik?”
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No. I’m glad you did.” She held out a hand to him, and he moved into the room to take it.
When she scooched over, he crawled into bed with her, still fully clothed but for his boots.
It was a tight fit. Erik’s bedroom was almost as large as his living room.
He could have easily fit a king-size bed, but he only had a twin.
Though she supposed, since he’d told her he usually slept in the living room, he hadn’t seen the need for anything bigger.
Unlike the other room, the walls were bare in here, with nothing to break up the expanse of white.
Just a TV mounted across from the bed and a sliding glass door that led out to a balcony, where she was willing to bet, he did a lot of his painting when the weather cooperated.
Otherwise, the space was filled with art supplies, canvases – some stretched over wooden frames while others were rolled – and easels.
Before she’d given in to her exhaustion, she’d looked through his paintings eagerly.
Some of them had been dark, disquieting, and she’d known instinctively that those were the pieces Erik had painted to purge the violence of his past.
“Is everything okay?”
There was a detached quality to his voice when he told her he’d gone to see the geneticist in the brig, and they may have a way to heal Jayla’s injuries. There was a storage facility in New Mexico, and they were putting a retrieval team together.
“Will you be going?”
“Yes.”
Chloe frowned. This should have been good news. Why didn’t he seem happy? Or, at least, relieved. “What else? Something else happened. What?”
“She’s my mother.”
“Who?” He couldn’t possibly mean…
“Doctor Dietrich. She told me tonight. She’s my biological mother.”
The woman who had sprayed acid in his face?
It was horrifying enough when she was just the scientist who created him and experimented on him, but to know that she was his actual mother and committed such travesties?
Was there a word to even describe that level of betrayal?
Chloe couldn’t imagine the emotions Erik was grappling with right now.
He let out a rueful laugh. “I always knew I was a monster. I guess I come by it naturally.”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” she scolded, hating that he saw himself like that. “You are not a monster.” Closing the small distance between them, she kissed him, their mouths clinging for a moment before she drew back slightly. “I love you, Erik.”
He let out what Chloe could only describe as a low growl before he returned his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily.
Within moments, Erik’s clothes were on the floor, joining the t-shirt she’d borrowed from his closet to sleep in.
Naked, they pressed together, both of them letting out a little sigh of relief at the contact.
Their arms wound around each other, holding close.
Her hands moved over the warm, silky-smooth skin of his back.
Raising her knee, she hooked her leg over his hip, as his palm slid down to her backside and squeezed.
She’d needed this. Needed him. This connection. In his arms, everything was okay. It was warm and safe, and for a little while, the rest of the world ceased to exist. He was her shelter in the storm.
Their mouths broke apart, and Chloe moaned as he kissed his way down her throat. His fangs grazed her shoulder, then his lips and tongue as he moved down to her breast. He took her nipple into his mouth, and a small cry of pleasure broke free.
She rocked against his erection as need built, becoming an urgency.
She didn’t want to wait; she wanted him inside of her.
Reaching between them, she took hold of his shaft, and Erik let out a groan as she maneuvered him into position.
Chloe closed her eyes as she sank onto the thick length of him, and suddenly, Erik was moving them, rolling onto his back so she was straddling him.
Biting her lip, she kept her eyes on his face as she raised herself and slid back down. She couldn’t hold back her gasp; it felt so good. Erik was panting, his hands cupping her breasts as he watched her ride him.
His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a hiss as his hips came off the mattress, and his hands dropped to her waist, guiding her, encouraging her to move faster.
She felt it too. They were both on the razor’s edge.
Then his hand was between them, his fingers stroking her, and with a choked cry, Chloe splintered, the orgasm spilling through her in a hot, liquid rush.
“Chloe!” His arms gathered her to him, holding her close as his hips jerked beneath her, and she felt his erection kick inside of her as he found his own release.
For several minutes, they lay there, holding each other, with Chloe sprawled on top of Erik. The only sound in the room was their harsh breathing, as they savored the aftereffects. Every muscle in Chloe’s body was limp, and she didn’t have the slightest urge to move.
“I love you,” Erik breathed against her ear.
Her lips curved into a smile.
The sun wasn’t even up when Erik had to leave, and Chloe went with him to the helicopter.
Aside from the pilot, it was a four-person team, including Erik.
She recognized Kong, and the woman who was going with them had been part of the medevac team who had picked up Jayla at the opera house, but there was also a man with a mechanical prosthetic arm she didn’t recognize.
All too soon, Erik was kissing her goodbye, and then she watched, hugging herself as the helicopter lifted off, and continued to watch until it was long out of sight.
He’d be fine, she told herself, so there was no reason for the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
When they’d been getting dressed, he’d told her that they didn’t expect trouble.
The storage facility was secure, but they had all the codes they needed to gain access.
“And if we get there, and find the codes don’t work,” he’d told her.
“We have someone with us who can break through even the most complex security measures.”
Chloe made her way to the infirmary to see Jayla.
The doctor was in with her, so she needed to wait, but as soon as the man left, she headed inside.
Jayla looked tired, her face pale, which only made the broken blood vessels in her eyes and bruising on her throat stand out in sharp relief.
But her face brightened when she saw Chloe.
“Hey.” Her voice was hoarse, making Chloe want to wince in sympathy. Jackson had done so much damage.
She approached the bed, took Jayla’s hand, and squeezed it gently. “How are you doing?”
“Meh. I’ve been better.”
How could the woman joke at a time like this? Tears filled Chloe’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey. None of that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But you got shot protecting me.”
“That’s the job. If you’d gotten shot, I would’ve failed in my duty.”
She reached for a cup of water on the tray table, and Chloe quickly grabbed it, guiding the straw to Jayla’s mouth. She took a sip and flinched slightly as she swallowed.
“Erik’s on his way to New Mexico,” Chloe told her. “Have you heard?”
Jayla nodded. “General Davies told me.”
Chloe nodded as well, suddenly at a loss for words. “Well, I just wanted to stop in and see you, but I should probably let you get some rest.”
“Knock, knock.”
Chloe turned to look to see who was at the door.
He was a big guy, almost as tall and broad as Kong, with ash blond hair, a short beard slightly darker than his hair, light skin, and blue eyes.
If his hair and beard were longer and braided, Chloe thought he’d make a perfect Viking.
He was holding flowers, and if Chloe had thought Jayla’s face had brightened seeing her, she had nothing on this guy.
Jayla’s face turned positively luminous as she breathed, “Nova.”
Jayla hadn’t mentioned having a boyfriend, but there was definitely something between these two. “Okay. I’m going to go.”
As she made her escape, she was almost positive that neither of them had even heard her.
From there, she went to the mess hall and grabbed some breakfast to go.
When she got back to Erik’s apartment, she picked at her food, staring at her phone, waiting for a text or a call from him.
Logically, she knew he was still in the air, that it could be hours before she heard from him.
But logic had nothing to do with the way she was feeling.
She was restless, agitated, and that sick feeling of worry lingered.
Giving up on eating, she called her parents. She had planned on calling them last night, but she’d been too absorbed in Erik’s artwork, and then too tired.
“Chloe? What’s wrong? What happened?” Her father’s sleep-gruff voice had her closing her eyes with a wince. She hadn’t even thought about the time difference. It was, what? Three A.M. there?
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about the time.” What little she ate churned, and a lump suddenly formed in her throat so she couldn’t get the next words out.
“Chloe? Are you okay?”
“Jackson’s dead.” Saying it out loud, it hit her all at once, and suddenly she was crying, the tears streaming down her face, and she didn’t even know why.
Any love she’d felt for him had died a long time ago.
He’d done terrible things, hurt people, killed people, and yet, she couldn’t even speak because she was crying so hard. Why? It didn’t make sense.
“Where are you, Chloe? Are you home?”
Through her choked sobs, she managed to push out, “Black… Bay.”
“Good. Stay there. Marshall will take good care of you. Your mother and I will fly –”
Her mother must have grabbed the phone, because it was suddenly her voice on the other end. She didn’t ask Chloe to repeat what happened. She didn’t even ask how Chloe was. She started telling some weird story about her latest trip to the hair salon.
It was such a shock, and so unexpected that Chloe’s tears dried up, and she realized the random story had done exactly as intended. Chloe was finally able to catch her breath and compose herself once more.
“Thanks, Mom.”
They spoke for a while longer, and Chloe managed to explain what happened calmly and with minimal tears.
Before they hung up, she assured them that she would be fine and they didn’t need to fly out.
They’d see each other at Christmas as planned.
But after, as she sat there alone with her thoughts, the silence of Erik’s apartment closed in around her, and that sick feeling returned.
Chloe watched as the helicopter banked and came in for a landing. Erik had called her from New Mexico to let her know that everything had gone smoothly. Doctor Dietrich hadn’t lied, and they were returning to Black Bay with the fetal cells for Jayla.
Nerves fluttered in her stomach just thinking about what she needed to say to him.
Earlier, she’d made herself so sick with anxiety that she’d finally given in and called her therapist. She’d told the woman everything – about Jackson finding her, taunting her, and how he’d likely killed Danny.
How he’d forced her to sing while holding Jayla at gunpoint, how Jayla had gotten shot, and the resulting paralysis, Jackson’s death, and then about her feelings for Erik and this new nagging worry whenever he left her side.
“You’ve been through a traumatic ordeal, Chloe. It’s natural to grab onto anything or anyone who makes you feel safe, loved, but I would encourage you to take a step back, allow yourself time to heal before plunging into a relationship. Trust me, if it’s real, he’ll be there when you’re ready.”
Chloe had bristled, not wanting to hear it, so she’d been a little sharp with the therapist. But as she’d sat there later, waiting for Erik’s return, she’d thought over what the therapist had said – really thought about it – and recalled some of her recent behavior.
She’d felt hurt after the meeting with the plastic surgeon when Erik had left her to make some phone calls.
Yesterday, when she’d insisted on accompanying Erik here, she’d told herself it was to see Jayla, but part of her couldn’t bear to be away from Erik.
Then again, last night, when he’d needed to leave her to go talk to Doctor Dietrich, she’d felt his absence keenly.
That level of neediness wasn’t like her.
Add that to today’s anxiety... Was her therapist right?
Had she been using Erik as an emotional crutch?
Chloe knew her interest in Erik was genuine; she’d been drawn to him, wanted to date him, before she’d known Jackson was back.
But the way she’d been clinging to him lately, feeling a sense of panic any time he left, wasn’t good.
She needed to stand on her own. Erik had said it himself when they were waiting for the helicopter at the opera house, and she’d asked what came next.
He’d told her to take her life back. That’s what she needed to do.
As tempting as it was to stay with him at Black Bay, she needed to go home.
Yet the thought of taking that first step, leaving him…
Erik jumped out of the helicopter, ignoring everyone else, his eyes on her.
There was a hungry look there as he strode straight for her, and a little thrill went through her.
As soon as he was close enough, he lifted her off her feet, his mouth melding to hers in a devouring kiss as he walked them to the waiting Jeep.
Tomorrow, she thought as she clung to him greedily. She could start taking her life back tomorrow.