We Were Lost (A Southern Heroes Novel Book 5)

by Michelle Heard

  Life has settled into a new routine since Chloe moved in, and there are times I find myself looking forward to going home. At first, those moments used to knock me off my feet, but I’m starting to get used to the feeling.

  Chloe’s been working at the women’s shelter for a week now. With Aiden and my help, she got all the documents sorted out. Since then, there haven’t been any incidents although she still likes to tease me every moment she gets.

  As I pull up the driveway, a bubble floats by my car. I begin to frown as more bubbles appear, and getting out of the car I see Chloe sitting on the porch, blowing bubbles and grinning like a kid.

  “Zac,” she calls out, and getting up, she practically bounces as she comes toward me. “I haven’t seen one of these since I was in primary school.” Holding the stick in front of my face, she says, “Blow.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I decide to indulge her, and I blow lightly. It’s not even hard enough to create a bubble.

  “Harder, dude,” she laughs, and wanting to keep the smile on her face, I blow until the bubble pops between us, making a burst of laughter explode over her lips. “I can see it’s gonna take some training before you get it right.”

  “I’ll leave the blowin’ to you,” I remark, and when I see her eyes begin to sparkle, I quickly add, “Don’t even go there. I don’t want to hear whatever you’re thinkin’.”

  Grinning at me, she asks, “How was your day?”

  “The same as always,” I answer, not even thinking about the answer.

  “That frustrating… huh?”

  “Yeah,” I admit. “How was yours?”

  “I actually had a good day. I didn’t mix up anyone’s names.”

  I chuckle and begin to walk toward the house. When we reach the kitchen, I start to gather the ingredients to make dinner but pause mid-way. “Why am I cookin’ again?”

  Chloe sits down at the table, and leaning her chin on her palm she wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Because you don’t want to be poisoned.”

  “Ahhh… right.”

  “So why are you frustrated with work?” she asks, her eyes on my hands as I prepare the meal.

  “I’m strugglin’ to get enough evidence on a case so I can put someone behind bars.” I don’t go into detail because Chloe doesn’t need to know about the ugly part of my job.

  She lets out a sigh, then a light frown settles on her forehead. “Yeah, that has to suck huge, hairy donkey balls.”

  I burst out laughing. “Yeah… Yeah, it does.”

  Chloe

  My job mainly consists of treating bruises and doing female wellness exams. The more severe cases get referred to the emergency room at the nearest hospital.

  The shelter can take up to twenty women, but right now there are only four, so I’m filling my spare time by sitting in on group counseling sessions and helping out in the other departments.

  My hours are five to five during the week, and every other weekend I have to work the night shift. It’s during my first night shift that I meet Stella.

  The moment I see her bruised face and cowering posture, I’m overwhelmed with compassion.

  “Hi, Stella,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “I’m Chloe. I’ll be helping you. Follow me to a room where we’ll have some privacy.”

  Placing a hand under her left elbow, I help her up, then walk with her to the nearest consulting room. Once I have her seated on the bed, I ask, “Except for your face, are you hurt anywhere else?”

  Her movements are jerky, and I pick up on the tremble in her hands. I’m not sure whether it’s from fear or something else.

  She shakes her head, keeping her eyes lowered to the floor.

  “I’m going to clean up the bruises, okay,” I say so I won’t startle her.

  I pull on a pair of gloves and sitting down on a chair, I roll it closer to her. I reach for the antiseptic fluid and begin the process of tending to her wounds as gently as possible.

  “How old are you?” I ask just to make conversation.

  “Twenty-four,” she whispers.

  “We’re the same age.” I smile even though she’s not looking at my face. “Have you lived in Lyman all your life?”

  She nods, and for a second her eyes dart up to mine before she lowers them again.

  “I’m from South Africa. I’ve been in Lyman for almost two months.”

  “Yeah?” The word is soft, but it’s a positive sign that she’s listening to me.

  “I’m still not used to the heat.”

  “It does get warm,” she replies, then winces as I try to wipe most of the blood away from the corner of her eyebrow.

  “Sorry, I know it stings.”

  “It’s okay.” I focus on making sure I disinfect the cuts properly, and I’m surprised when Stella asks, “Why did you come here?”

  “My best friend lives here. She just had a baby.”

  I sit a little back and throw the soiled materials in the assigned bin, then reach for a tube of ointment. Looking back in front of me, I find Stella’s eyes on my face.

  “You wanna talk about it?” I ask cautiously.

  Her lips begin to tremble, then she whispers, “It was just a mistake. He didn’t mean to.”

  I take a breath and force a smile to my face. “Your boyfriend?”

  She nods and lowers her eyes again.

  “How long have you been dating?”

  “Two years.”

  “Is this the first time?”

  Stella doesn’t say anything, and when I think she’s not going to answer me, she hesitantly nods.

  Yeah, it’s definitely not the first time.

  “I have a friend you can talk to if you need to. She comes here every Friday afternoon.” She begins to shake her head, and I quickly add, “It will be private, and no one needs to know. Just keep it in mind.”

  The second I’m done with the treatment, Stella slips off the bed and with a rushed thanks, she disappears out the door.

  That’s the hard part of this job. Wanting to help someone who doesn’t want to be saved.

  CHAPTER 14

  Chloe

  Working at the women’s shelter is more satisfying than I thought it would be. It’s not the actual work I do, but the victims I get to help which makes a huge difference.

  I’ve pretty much settled into my job, and I’ve gotten to know the other employees a bit.

  I’ve just finished my last day of working the day shift, and I’m on my way to the store to grab a couple of things I need.

  From Sunday I’ll be working the night shift, and it will take some time getting used to the new hours, so I want to get everything at home in order.

  I grab a trolley and begin making my way down the aisles. I stock up heavily on coffee, grabbing some for work as well. When I reach the laundry cleaning items, I take a couple of fabric dryer sheets. I’m just about to move on when I spot Stella coming up the aisle behind me.

  “Hey, Stella,” I say, glad to see there are no new bruises on her face. “How are you?” She frowns at me, and it looks like she doesn’t recognize me, so I add, “Chloe, we met two weeks ago.”

  “Oh… right,” she mumbles, not looking too happy to run into me. Her jittery actions come across as being anxious, and it makes me feel for her.

  “How have you been?” I ask again. My eyes drop to the items in her trolley. There’s a lot of drain cleaner along with bottles of acetone.

  “Fine.” Her answer is short but timid as if she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself. “I have to go.”

  “You know where to find me if you need someone to talk,” I say the words as she already begins to walk away and she doesn’t acknowledge hearing them.

  Letting out a sigh, I glance down at the list I made, but as I continue my shopping, my thoughts keep returning to Stella, and I can’t help but feel worried for her.

  Zac

  When I get home. I find Chloe in the kitchen. She’s standing by the counter with ingredients scattered around her,
reading something on her phone.

  “Hey, how was your day?” I ask as I walk closer.

  Chloe’s head snaps up, and she smiles widely when she sees me. “You’re home! Just in time. I want to make dinner, but all the recipes are in ounces. I’ve been trying to convert it to grams, but with you here it will be easier.

  “Or I can just cook,” I offer.

  Instead of taking me up on my offer, she pouts. “I wanna try.”

  “Okay.” I look down at the ingredients and ask, “What do you want to make?”

  “Pasta.” The word comes out sounding like a question, and I chuckle.

  “Let’s get some water boilin’.” I take out the pot I always use and fill it with water before setting it on the stove.

  When I light the gas, Chloe comments, “That’s still something I have to get used to. Growing up we’ve always used electric stoves. Aren’t you scared you’ll burn the house down?”

  I point up at the smoke detector then at the fire extinguisher which is next to the backdoor. “I’m prepared for accidents.”

  “But I’d probably panic and run, leaving the house to go down in flames.”

  I smile at her honesty. “What do you want to add to the pasta?”

  “Bacon and lots of cheese.” She gestures to the large pack of bacon. “Can we fry it first, so it’s crispy?”

  “Sure.” I grab a pan while Chloe opens the pack of bacon.

  She comes to stand next to me as I begin to fry the bacon, and when the smell fills the air, she groans, “That smells so good.”

  Yeah, my front row seat to food porn. Damn, this woman makes everything sound seductive and sexy.

  Because I’m so distracted by her, the bacon starts to burn, and smoke billows around us.

  “Crap! Zac, I might be better than you at frying bacon.” The smoke alarm goes off, and with wide eyes, Chloe’s head snaps up at the noise. “Wow, that thing is loud.”

  I remove the burnt bacon and set the pan aside before I go to open the back door.

  Chloe coughs lightly, then begins to laugh. “At least you’re not good at everything. It makes me feel better.”

  The alarm stops, and as the worst of the smoke clears out of the kitchen, I say, “It’s because you were distractin’ me.”

  Her one eyebrow pops up. “I distracted you? How? All I did was watch.”

  “Yeah, all you did was watch,” I grumble as I walk back to the stove. I wipe the pan before I start frying again, and playfully glaring at Chloe, I say, “Go sit at the table so I can focus.”

  Thankfully she listens, and she begins to open the packs of shredded cheese. Popping some into her mouth, she groans again. I close my eyes for a second thinking there’s no way I’m going to win. With every burst of laughter and groan of pleasure, this woman is crawling deeper under my skin. It’s only a matter of time before she burrows her way deep into my heart.

  After we’re finished eating, Chloe starts washing the dishes. While I’m drying and packing them away, she mentions, “I’m starting the night shift from Sunday, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Frowning as I place a plate in the cupboard, I say, “You’re not in my hair.” I lean back against the counter and watch as she scrubs the pan. “Are you happy with workin’ nights?”

  “I think I’ll like it more. From what I’ve heard, most of the women come in at night, so I’ll be able to help more.”

  “It looks like you’re enjoyin’ the job,” I mention. Chloe hasn’t complained once since she’s started. To be honest, she’s a whole different person from when she first got here.

  “Mostly… I do.” She seems hesitant, but then drops the pan in the water and looks at me as she explains, “It’s a little frustrating as well. There’s one woman, in particular, I can’t stop thinking about. She came in to have her bruises treated a while ago. I ran into her at the store, and seeing her again reminded me how scared and timid she is.” Chloe’s shoulders slump. “I wish I could do more to help her, but she’s closed off.”

  Choosing my words carefully, I reply, “Wyatt dealt with a domestic abuse case a while back. It ended tragically.” With Chloe’s personality being so similar to Wyatt’s, I don’t want her falling into the same dark hole which almost destroyed him. “It’s hard to distance yourself from the ugly side of life. All you can do is try your best, Chloe. Don’t take responsibility for other peoples’ actions.”

  “But… how do I do that? It was easier when I worked at the hospital. I think it’s because the hospital is so big and I never saw the same person twice. But here it’s different. My gut tells me I’ll be seeing this woman soon, and I hate it. What if it doesn’t just stay at a bruised face, and it gets worse?”

  Unable to stop myself, I place my hand on Chloe’s shoulder. She gives me a meager smile which breaks down the last of my resistance. I pull her closer and wrapping my arms around her, I hold her close to me.

  I feel a sense of relief when her arms slip around my waist, and she presses her face into my neck.

  For a moment we stand in silence as I offer her some of my strength, then I whisper, “I know it’s easier said than done, and because you’re a compassionate person, it makes it so much harder. All you can do is offer them a place where they’ll be safe. It’s their choice whether they’ll take the leap. Always remember you are not responsible for what happens to them, Chloe. It will drive you insane if you try to carry the guilt.”

  She nods against my neck and tightens her hold on me. I give her all the time she needs, because fuck, I know how from my own line of work how hard these situations can be.

  CHAPTER 15

  Zac

  With Chloe working night shifts, we’ve seen very little of each other. I find myself leaving the office earlier so I can make sure she has dinner before she heads to work.

  I’m busy making coffee before I leave for the office when the silence in the house gets to me. It’s then I realize Chloe’s become a more significant part of my daily life than I thought.

  I admit I care about her but is it more than a friendship?

  I stop stirring as I try to make sense of my feelings. It’s different from what I felt for Laurie. With Laurie, it was natural and easy-going. Everything about our relationship was effortless.

  But with Chloe… we’re total opposites. I’m calm and rational where she’s carefree and emotional.

  Obviously, no two relationships are the same, and it has me wondering if there could be more between Chloe and me.

  Do I want more?

  There’s no doubt I’m physically attracted to her. I’ve been smiling a hell of a lot more since she moved in.

  And honestly… I miss her when she’s not around. I just miss hearing her move around the house, hearing her voice and her teasing me. I miss her energy and the way her larger than life personality fills the house.

  But is it the start of love? Isn’t it just friendship?

  When I find a woman I like, I’m not the kind of man who’s afraid to commit, so what’s holding me back?

  I carry my cup of cooling coffee to the table and sit down. Staring at the caramel liquid, my thoughts revolve around Chloe.

  Usually, I’d be straight-forward once I’ve made up my mind and tell the woman how I feel. I’ve always been more about actions than just letting things run their course.

  Am I holding back because Chloe doesn’t seem ready? Is that it or should I take the first step and just see where it leads to?

  Chloe

  Rushing out of the house, I feel bad for just eating dinner and leaving right after. During the day I do my part and make sure the house is spotless before Zac gets home, but it doesn’t feel like I’m doing enough.

  This morning, in the spur of the moment, I left him a note next to the coffee machine, saying I hope he has an amazing day and kicks butt at work.

  I have to admit, I’m more comfortable living with Zac than I thought I’d be. Hell, I didn’t even feel so at home in my parents’ house
, or while I stayed with Emma.

  I thought working nights and spending less time around Zac would help put the breaks on my feelings, and no matter how I keep telling myself we’re only friends, it doesn’t stop the fluttering every time I think of him.

  Letting out a sigh, I push the thoughts to the back of my mind as I walk into work.

  Smiling at Brianna, who’s sitting at reception, I say, “You’re ready for another night?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had my energy drink.” Before I can disappear down the hallway, she adds, “A woman’s waiting in the first consultation room.”

  I first go place my bag in my assigned locker, then walk to the room. Stepping inside, my heart squeezes when I see Stella sitting all hunched on the chair.

  She glances up, and I take in her busted lip and the cut on her cheek.

  “Hi, Stella.” I wash my hands, and after drying them, I pull on a pair of gloves. Taking a seat on a chair, I roll it closer to her as I reach for the saline and Q-tips. “Let me take a look at you.”

  I first clean the cut on her lower lip before asking, “How have you been?”

  “Fine,” she responds in her usual short and timid way.

  When I’m done cleaning the cuts, I dab on some antiseptic balm, then cover them with band-aids.

  Sitting back, my heart fills with compassion to the point it feels like it might burst. “We can help you. The friend I told you about is here right now if you’d like to talk to her.”

  She nods, and slowly brings her eyes to mine. She takes a deep breath, then says, “Would it be okay if I talked to you?”

  “Of course,” I quickly answer, not wanting her to change her mind. “I’m not trained as well as my friend, but I can always listen.”

  “I’d rather talk to you. I don’t want everyone in town knowin’ my business.”

  “I understand.” I sit patiently and wait, hoping she’ll open up to me a little.