4. Chloe
CHAPTER FOUR
CHLOE
THEN
TEN YEARS AGO
Kingston flicked the heater to high as soon as he started the engine, but I can’t stop shivering.
Logically I realize it’s the adrenaline drop. After living so many days in a life-or-death situation, it was only a matter of time before my body couldn’t handle it anymore.
Kingston curses as he looks over at me. “I’m sorry, Mama. I don’t have anything else to keep you warm, but I have a change of clothes and some blankets on the jet.”
Pressing my eyes closed, I focus on keeping my breathing even. I’m permanently on the edge of a panic attack, and I would do just about anything to be sedated right now, but I don’t know if that’s okay for the baby or not.
I don’t know anything about being pregnant or being a mother, especially alone, but every time I allow myself to think about the fact that I’ll be a single mom with no support system, I find myself back on the brink.
“The jet?” I whisper.
“We need to get out of Miami before they come looking for you.”
I nod. That makes sense. I’m a loose end they’ll want to eliminate, especially if they find out who I called to help me.
“Can you tell me how you escaped?”
“They left the door unlocked,” I whisper.
“Salvatore came to kill us, but he got called away. I guess they thought the shock of seeing both of my parents killed would stop me from trying to run. I broke my thumb the way Damon told me to if I was ever handcuffed, and then I ran.” Tears roll down my cheeks, but I keep going.
I tell him about the tennis shoes I found by luck by the back door. I tell him about running from the dogs and climbing the tree. And then I tell him how I dropped from the ten-foot wall surrounding the compound.
By the time I get to the part where I reached the gas station, filthy and covered in blood, the car slows as we pull through a wrought iron fence onto what appears to be an airfield.
A single jet sits on the tarmac, the lights flashing on the wing to signal it’s ready to take off at a moment’s notice.
“You did good, Chloe. So fucking good. I’m proud of you.” The hand that’s never let go of mine squeezes, providing comfort I didn’t realize I needed so badly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re safe now.”
I don’t get a chance to respond before he kills the engine and gets out, pausing by the man I didn’t notice in front of the car before coming around to the passenger side.
Just like at the gas station, he gathers me in his arms and carries me up the steps of the jet as if I weigh nothing.
It’s hard to connect the man holding me like he would throw himself in front of a bullet for me and the aloof underboss that once walked the Lombardi compound.
Despite him being one of Dad’s best friends, I never really knew Kingston. I’m not sure anyone did apart from the few people he allowed into his orbit.
He ascends the steps of the private jet and doesn’t pause until we reach the seats at the back. He carefully places me beside the window, his brows dipped in concern for a beat before he turns on his heel and returns to the front of the plane.
I lift my fist to my mouth, biting down on the abused flesh to stop myself from begging him to stay. Because the truth is, I don’t know how to handle being alone right now.
Without someone beside me, all I can think about is what I ran from.
My parents, who will never have a funeral.
The boy I thought would be my entire future.
And the man that always held more of my heart than he should have.
I’m leaving everyone that ever meant anything to me behind, and even after the worst few days of my life, the idea of starting over, of being truly alone for the first time in my life, is terrifying.
A single tear rolls down my cheek, a precursor for the barrage begging to be set free.
Kingston reappears beside me with a blanket and a bottle of water, but this time when his brow dips, it’s from confusion rather than concern, like he’s not sure what to do first.
After a few seconds, he drops the water on the chair beside me and unfolds the blanket, carefully tucking it around me and buckling the seat belt around my waist.
After days of being exposed, of being dressed in nothing but a nightgown, it’s nice to be covered, to have some protection between me and the outside world.
Once he’s satisfied that I’m secured, he uncaps the water and presses it to my lips, allowing me to take small sips the same way Damon did in the cell.
I press my eyes closed, desperately trying to hold the tears at bay, but it’s no use. Everything I’ve bottled up, the fear, the loss, the hope—it needs an escape.
Kingston pulls the bottle away when the first tear slides down my cheek, and a moment later he’s crouching in front of me with my cheek cupped in his hand. “You’re okay now, Mama. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I choke on a desperate sob because I wish I could believe him. I wish there were any hope left inside me. But there’s not. There’s nothing. An empty void where my heart once lived and a baby I have no idea how to care for alone.
He curses, his dark-brown eyes glancing around, desperately searching for something to comfort me.
When he doesn’t find anything, he unclips the belt he just secured around my waist and lifts me into his arms. He drops into the seat I was just in and rearranges me in his lap.
Every touch is gentle, even as he flags the hostess over and asks for a seat belt extender, which he promptly attaches and wraps around me.
I shouldn’t seek his comfort. I shouldn’t lean into his warmth. But when he presses my face against his chest as he whispers promises of safety, I allow myself to believe the words he’s saying.
Even if it’s just for a little while.