Chapter 33
Mom: Dad and I are thinking of coming to New York next week to visit, can we stay with you and Zeke?
Chloe: Not a good time.
Mom: Why not?
Chloe: It's just not.
Mom: Chloe Alicia Devlin, what is going on?
CHLOE
Tears roll silently down my cheeks as PG purrs in my lap, my raw eyes glued to the TV screen where Julia Roberts sticks her head out of her apartment window and beams as Richard Gere shows up in a stretch limo to claim her heart.
It’s been four days since I quit my job and stormed out of the Guerra Industries office, never to return again.
Most of my stuff still sits at his apartment, having only had the time to scoop up some essentials and PG for fear of him showing up.
My ass has molded a Chloe-shaped divot on my sister's couch, where I’ve wallowed in emotion ever since.
I flit between anger, anxiety, and a visceral pain that makes my chest feel like it’s going to crack open.
However much I try, I can’t get the look of cold disgust etched onto Zeke’s face as he ripped me to shreds out of my head.
It tears me out of fractured sleep at night and haunts my every waking moment.
Anger leapt to my defense to mask what was happening inside when he gave me that look, but I felt the fissure his ready belief of Anthony Sweeney’s bullshit tore through my heart.
As much as I see how it must look to him, as much as I mull it over in my head and replay the scene like I’m anchored in a horror film I can’t escape, I keep coming back to one thing.
He should know me better. He didn’t even hear me out properly, jumping down my throat before I could fully form sentences.
I haven’t heard from him since. It’s not even like I want to.
I’m not a masochist. I don’t need another dose of the stark reality that he was so quick to believe the worst of me after all the time we have spent together.
But even so, I miss him so much it hurts.
I miss his laugh, his quirked brow when he thinks I’m being crazy, his rough hands on my body at night.
I miss Diego’s little grin when I get in from work, the way he rushes over to tell me about his day. Hell, I even miss work.
“Maybe we just need to go to LA and become hookers on Hollywood Boulevard—worked out okay for her.” Tilly is lying across the opposite end of the couch, her hand buried in a family-sized tub of cheese balls.
I grunt, swiping a hand across my cheeks to wipe away my tears even though I’ve accepted by now that they will inevitably be replaced within moments.
I’m like a leaking faucet that won’t stop.
I had been hysterical when I hammered on my sister’s door after collecting my stuff from Zeke’s, unable to get my words out to explain what happened for a good half an hour.
Richard Gere climbs up the fire escape with a bunch of roses clamped beneath his teeth, even though he is terrified of heights, and sure enough another fat tear rolls over.
I still feel astonished that Anthony would mastermind everything that unfolded, and I don’t know why it surprises me, considering he’s shown me just how capable he is of being that malicious in the past. Some naive part of me thought that it would stop with the court-mandated therapy.
That would be my price for his perceived humiliation.
I would have paid my dues in his eyes and been free to live my life. How very stupid that was, I see now.
The screen flicks to a black pane of reflective glass and I jerk my gaze to Tilly. She’s staring at me with a frown, the remote clutched in her hand. “Why did you do that? We’re missing the end,” I croak, my voice raspy from not speaking.
“Chloe, it’s been four days. Don’t you think it’s time you came up with a plan? I’m all for wallowing, but you can’t do that forever.” I blink numbly at her. “You haven’t eaten, you’ve barely even drank any water. You smell like a sewer rat, and you look like shit.”
I flinch, my gaze falling to PG as he nuzzles into my chest. “There is nothing I can do. It’s done. He beat me.” My words come out flat as fresh tears drip down my nose.
“You didn’t do what he’s saying you did, there has to be a way of proving that.” She huffs, and when I glance up at her, she’s scowling at me.
“What’s the point though, Till? Even if there is a way, it’s already cost me everything.
My job…” I swallow roughly. “Zeke.” The name burns my tongue like acid on the way out.
“Besides, he’ll just think up some other way to get at me.
It will never stop. The best thing I can do is give him what he wants and leave the city. ”
“What about your dignity? Is that not worth saving before you run away?” Tilly snaps, and I physically recoil.
“I don’t care about my dignity right now.” I close my eyes and sink my head back onto the top of the couch cushion. I’m so tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of crying. Tired of hating and missing Zeke at the same time. Tired of not being able to sleep even though I’m fucking exhausted.
“That’s bullshit! You are Chloe Devlin, and you don’t take shit from anyone!” Tilly shouts, making me grind my molars together. PG shoots off my lap with an annoyed hiss.
“Chloe Devlin is human just like the rest of us and she’s swallowed enough shit this past year that she’s fit to burst,” I reply quietly.
“It isn’t fair, Chloe!” Tilly barks.
I snap my head back down, anger flaring. “You don’t think I know that?!” I yell, giving in to the wayward emotion that burns the numb away. “You don’t think I fucking know it’s not fair? This is my life!”
“Then do something about it! Because I can’t sit here and watch you waste away any longer!” she screeches back, nostrils flaring.
“Fine! I’ll go to Mom and Dad’s then!” We both glare at each other, neither of us backing down.
The apartment buzzer slices through the stony silence and Tilly jerks her eyes away, letting out a deep breath and hauling herself off the couch.
I watch her stalk away and curse under my breath as a fresh wave of tears hits.
“Stop fucking crying, woman!” I growl to myself, roughly swiping them away with the back of my hand.
“Is she here?” The familiar deep rumble peaks my attention and I swivel my head slowly to watch the doorway as muffled footsteps approach.
Chase Walker appears behind Tilly, looking as casually handsome as ever in jeans and a knit sweater.
His brows jump together as he looks at me, pausing in the doorway.
“Hey, Red,” he says gently, none of his usual teasing drawl present.
“Hey,” I croak, giving up trying to stem my tears.
He takes Tilly’s place on the sofa, his large frame taking up most of it so that one of his knees hits mine. Tilly perches on the rolled arm behind him with her arms crossed.
“Zeke has dropped off the grid and when I went by his place to try and find him, his housekeeper said you hadn’t been there for days.
I figured something had happened.” He plants his elbows on his thighs and frowns at me.
Feeling my bottom lip quiver, I curse myself for my weakness.
I drop my gaze to my hands that are clamped tightly together in my lap, my bare ring finger a glaring reminder that it’s over.
“Talk to me,” he says gently, nudging my knee with his.
When I look up at him, the whole thing starts to flow out of me like lava.
I tell him everything, right from the beginning of mine and Anthony’s disastrous relationship to the confrontation with Zeke.
It’s everything I wanted to say in his office that day but was too stunned and terrified to get it out quick enough for him to listen.
By the time I’m finished, a deep line creases the space between Chase’s brows.
Suddenly, I'm terrified that he too won’t believe me.
“Say something,” I breathe quietly, noting absently that my tears have stopped for the first time in days.
“I always knew Sweeney was a prick, but I didn’t realize he is a psychopath.
” He sighs, leaning back against the couch.
Relief floods my system and I let out the breath I'd been holding. As quick as it hits, it’s snatched away by a knife in my heart as I realize Chase doesn’t know me half as well as Zeke should, and yet he took my word for it without hesitation.
“He’s a dead man if I see him,” Tilly growls softly. Chase’s head swivels to raise his brows at her, and she offers him the smallest twitch of her lips.
“So, the evidence he gave Zeke was doctored?” he asks, turning back to me.
“The CCTV images definitely were. I haven’t been to his apartment since we broke up.
But the calls… I think the calls might have been real.
I had some emails from work contacts asking me to call them urgently, but I could never get through.
I called a few times. When I remembered, I checked my call log, and the numbers were the same.
” It had come to me somewhere between day two of hysterical crying and day three of numb disassociation. It was the only way I could explain it.
Chase sighs and rubs a palm up his jawline. “I know he’s been an idiot, but Zeke’s not a bad guy, Chloe. You should try and speak to him again.”
I swallow, trying to ignore the fractured tug in my chest. “He didn’t believe me, Chase. That hurts me more than I can bear.” Tears begin to pool in my eyes again and I rapidly blink, inwardly groaning.
Chase is staring at me contemplatively, his lips pressed into a slight downward turn. “You love him, don’t you?”
The breath freezes in my chest, fear rocketing around my veins as I stare at him. Blinking again, I tear my eyes away and focus on the blank screen of the TV. “Yes,” I whisper, my chest carved open and bared for them to see.
“God, he’s a moron,” Chase mutters, thrusting his hands through his hair. “Can you send me the number you called?”
I nod slowly as I turn my numb gaze back to him.
“Okay good, let me see what I can dig up.” Chase stands, placing his hand out in front of me.
I take it automatically and he hauls me up off the sofa. His long arms wrap around me and I sink into the bear hug without hesitation, leaning on his sturdy strength. “Thanks,” I mumble as he lets me go.
“No problem, and Chloe?” he says as he walks to the doorway, pausing for a moment when he reaches Tilly. “I think you are out-of-this-world hot, so don’t be offended when I tell you it’s time to take a shower.”
Despite myself, I let out a bark of a laugh, and he flashes me a grin, sliding a wink Tilly’s way before he disappears from sight.