by Lisa Eugene
“It’s nothing. Just put it back.”
Chloe ignored his harsh tone and intimidating gaze as he walked toward her. She’d heard of this drug. She could put it back and pretend she’d never seen it, but it would always bother her. It was a new drug used primarily to treat panic attacks, but was known to have many side effects and was highly addictive.
Since her problems with Richard’s addiction, drugs have been a hot spot for her. She knew she might be stepping over the line here, but a rush of terrifying emotions emerged. She took hold of his hand, letting him know that this was coming from a place of concern and affection, not judgment or censure.
“Brad, I’m just worried. I’ve heard a lot of bad things about this medication. If you have panic attacks, that fine. Many people do—”
Brad pulled his hand away, severing their connection. “I don’t have panic attacks, dammit!”
Chloe’s shoulders fell with a disheartened shrug. It was obvious he was angry that she’d made the discovery and had no intention of discussing the matter with her. She also felt hurt because she’d let him into parts of her life she’d never shared with anyone. She was starting to trust him and his declaration of feelings for her.
“If you ever want to talk about it—”
He shoved his fingers through his hair and swore. “Fuck, Chlo! You have no idea the amount of pressure I’m under!”
Chloe bit her bottom lip and looked into his eyes. “I can’t begin to imagine. I’m sorry.”
He issued a long breath and shifted his weight, his rigid shoulders slackening. “I—I take it because I started getting fine hand tremors. It doesn’t happen often, but it shouldn’t happen at all. Do you know what that means to a surgeon?”
She nodded, fully understanding that it could mean the end of his career. But she also understood what else this symptom could mean.
“Brad, you may not need medication. Maybe you’ve just got too much on your plate and need to slow down. Your symptom could be because you’re stressed out.”
“I have a great deal of responsibility. People count on me, expect certain things. That’s how my whole life has been.”
“Yes, but you chose your own path. I know your parents are famous scientists, but you don’t have to follow in their footsteps if you don’t want to.”
She could see him grinding his teeth, his body tensing again. She reached out and cupped his cheek, having another realization.
“Plus, the medication is what’s most likely causing your issue with…you know. This class of drug can do that. It’s one of the side effects.”
His palms raked along the back of his neck. “I know. I guess I never wanted to admit it. I was more afraid of stopping the med.”
“This drug can also make you aggressive, sometimes irritated and surly.”
“No, that’s just me.” His lips tilted marginally.
She recalled her earlier thoughts. “Do you enjoy your job? Do you like what you do for a living?”
He chuckled wryly. “No one has ever asked me that. I was just always expected to be a doctor, I had no choice in the matter. My first toy was a stethoscope.”
“I think it’s an important question.”
He held her gaze, seeming to ponder her question.
“I like my job most of the time. I love doing surgery and seeing patients in the office.”
“What don’t you like?”
“Mmmm…” He took a step closer and unwrapped the towel from her head, freeing the cascade of wet hair and running his fingers through it. “I don’t like traveling and lecturing, and all the schmoozing and public speaking.”
“Then don’t do that stuff.”
He feathered his knuckles along her jaw, then combed his fingers through her hair again, smiling. “You make it seem so simple, Chlo.”
She shrugged, looking into his eyes. “It is. Why must you do all that stuff if you don’t want to? You said you already have more money than you can spend. You have a great reputation, and you’re respected. Why do it?”
He was silent for a long time, his gaze drifting far away. “To be number one.”
Standing on tip-toe, she traced her lips against his, loving the tingles his touch always created. “You’re already number one to me, Brad.”
He seemed to surface from his trance then, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight and crushing her against him. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with him.
“Thank you for that. I’ll think about what you said.” He gazed down at her quizzically. “How do you feel about your own path, Chloe?”
She pursed her lips, wondering how much she should tell him. “Well, apart from the recent turn for the worse, I can’t complain. I have more than most.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I thought my path would be very different, but…but…I was dumped three years ago, left at the altar.”
His arms tightened around her and he paused a few heartbeats before he spoke.
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“My fiancé decided last-minute he couldn’t go through with it. He said I wasn’t right for him. He later packed up and moved away.” She hated the vibration in her voice.
“Were you very much in love?”
She found she couldn’t meet his gaze. “I thought I was. Now I don’t think so.”
“He was a fucking coward. His leaving was not about you, it was about him and his own issues. He didn’t deserve you.”
His hard tone and heated words were an unexpected gift. After her break up with Jack, she’d blamed herself, always wondering what she’d done wrong and how she’d failed him.
She took a deep breath. “It was awful, but I learned to be strong, to be independent.”
I learned to tuck away the pain and move on, to never give in to those nearly-crippling emotions.
“I’ve noticed your independence.”
There was an emotion laced with his words that she couldn’t read. She thought it might be sarcasm, but it was more than that. He hooked his finger under her chin, bringing her gaze to his. She watched his lips kick up in a wry smile.
“I’m sorry you got hurt, but I’m thrilled to death you’re still single. Our relationship would be very awkward if you were a married woman.”
She laughed. “I’m glad I’m single too.” Her palms rested on his bare chest and she loved feeling his tight muscles shift beneath her fingers. She pushed away the haunting memories that came with discussing Jack. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
He flicked his tongue along her earlobe and her lids drifted closed. “You’re a wonderful woman, Chloe, and I really want to make love to you right now, so you’ll get your chance to thank me all you want.”
Chloe pulled back and gave him a smile, her lashes fluttering. “Ooh, make love?” she teased, rubbing against the bulge in his boxers. “How romantic. Usually you’re Mr. Tie me up-tie me down-against a wall-on the floor-paddle my ass!”
He shook his head and issued a deep, sexy-as-hell chuckle, his dimples slashing deep. “Oh, admit you love it! Horny girl!”
Chloe’s smile widened because she did love it, but she still feigned innocence. She slapped his hands as he untucked her towel and let it fall to the floor.
“Ever do it on a bathroom sink? In front of a mirror?”
She giggled as in one smooth move he grasped her waist and hoisted her onto the shiny, marble sink vanity. Her hands braced on his sculpted shoulders as he snuggled his hips between her thighs.
“I thought you were going to make love to me.” She laughed. “I thought we were going for romantic.”
“Oh, I’ll be very romantic…” He grinned, devastating her senses. “I’ll whisper sweet nothings in your ear while I take you on the counter top, but you probably won’t hear them with all your swearing!”
It was just before noon and Brad was leaving for his meeting with Mr. Fusso. He leaned over the bed and kissed Chloe goodbye, lingering long at her lips. She kissed
him back ardently, consuming the sweetness of a leisurely night of loving. He tasted deliciously decadent, and she wanted him back in bed.
She rose up on her knees, the sheet falling from her body, and pushed her fingers through his thick, wavy hair. The way his gaze traveled appreciatively over her body spurred her boldness. He was sinfully sexy in a fitted, dark blue, pinstripe suit and silver tie. Chloe kissed him passionately, pulling his head towards hers. Her lips were ravenous, working over his mouth with reckless abandon as she plunged her tongue inside. A deep rumble rolled from his throat when she bit at his lips and his palms slid down her naked body to cup the globes of her ass.
“Christ, Chlo!” he panted against her mouth. “I have to go. I’m gonna be late. And I can’t walk into my meeting with a hard-on.”
She moaned into his mouth and he swore, dragging her hard against his body. Chloe’s legs snaked their way around his hips and he staggered back from the impact of her sudden weight. She continued to devour him, her core writhing against his thick bulge.
“You’re killing me!” Brad hissed. Sliding one hand between their entwined bodies, he fumbled with his clothing and released his throbbing cock.
He’d barely removed his hand before Chloe raised her hips, found an advantageous angle, and slid down onto him, smothering him with her wet heat. Her back arched, a surge of liquid fire bowing her spine, and they both shouted from the bolus of sensation. Brad had to take a step back to regain his balance as Chloe started to writhe her hips on him in a lusty fury. She gasped out rapid breaths.
“Shit! So good, Brad! Ahh! So motherfu—”
He captured her lips as she tightened her arms around his shoulders and clung to him, her taut nipples dragging against the front of his suit, the rough feel of the fabric sending wild, hot flurries through her breasts. Her hips undulated against him as he held on to her ass cheeks, pulling her forward.
Her mind was swirling with passion, her need to join with him fierce and demanding. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t want to let him go. She felt like she’d never see him again. She wanted to grip him, cling to him, possess him, and it sang insanely through every atom of her flesh. She tossed her head back, feeling the weight of her hair hang like a waterfall. His fingers dug into her flesh, his lips at the base of her neck. Her climax tore through her suddenly, ripping her asunder and she could do nothing but squeeze her eyes shut and shout a silent cry.
“Chloe! Fuck! Let go!”
Brad’s words found her in a dark abyss of pleasure, and she realized he was trying to pry her thighs from their steel grip around his body.
“Let go, Chlo! Fuck! I’m coming!”
Her legs instantly relaxed and he hoisted her up and off him, but his body was already jerking with uncontrollable spasms.
“Shit!”
Chloe’s eyes widened with alarm, her brain quickly dusting away any remnants of lust. Her heart thumped and lagged with fear.
“Oh my God, Brad. Did you…?” She couldn’t even say the words; her voice rang shrill with worry as reality seeped in.
He walked them forward and deposited her on the bed, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. He stared down at her, his eyes hooded. He scanned her face, seeming to absorb her every emotion.
“Brad?” Chloe pushed up on her elbows, his name sobbing from her lips as she tried to quell her panic.
“No, Chloe. We did it in time, but it was close—again.”
Again? She frowned.
“We need to discuss birth control. I know you’re not ready for babies.”
She shook her head. “Definitely not.”
His lips tilted in an enigmatic smile. “Maybe someday, Chloe, but we will talk more when I get back.”
His words had her heart kicking in her chest, speeding up again.
Oh, God. Please let me not have misinterpreted what he just said! Please…
She wished she could ask for clarification, but at that moment he looked at his watch and swore.
“I’m going to change in the other room.” He grinned, crawling over her body. “If I do it here, I’ll never leave. You were amazing. My dry cleaning bill has doubled since I met you.” He planted a kiss on her lips then regarded her seriously. “Tonight when it’s dark, we’ll go see your mother. I’m asking you to trust me, Chlo. Promise me you won’t go by yourself. It’s way too dangerous.”
“I promise.”
“It will all work out, baby. I swear.”
He rose and turned to leave. “Brad?” she called and smiled slightly when he turned around, her heart calling out to him. “Be careful.”
Chloe must have fallen back asleep, because when she awoke it was after one o’clock in the afternoon. She sat upright when she read the bedside clock and pushed back the hair that had fallen over her face. She was supposed to meet with Richard at one. She’d have to call to let him know she wouldn’t be meeting him until late tonight. She knew that the prospect of getting his money was the only thing keeping him agreeable for now, so hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset. Spying a phone on Brad’s night table, she picked up the hand-set and dialed her mother’s number.
He answered on the first ring.
“Richard—”
“Where the fuck are you? You were supposed to be here by now. You have my money?”
Chloe blew out a long breath, trying not to feel hurt. Her brother knew what kind of trouble she was in with the police, and the only thing he could ask about was his money. Where had she gone wrong with him?
“Yes, Richard. I have your money, but I can’t come until tonight.”
“What?” he exploded through the phone. “You have to come see about Mom! She’s not doing well and I don’t know what to do. I’ve been waiting for you to come! You can’t leave me here with her like this!”
Chloe gasped, a wave of panic roaring through her like a clap of thunder. “Richard, what’s wrong with her?”
“I—I don’t know… She’s agitated and very confused—much more than usual! She didn’t even recognize me when I got here. I tried talking to her and it was like…like…she doesn’t even hear me…”
The more Richard talked, the more alarmed Chloe became. Her mind spun with gruesome possibilities that caused chills to echo down her back.
“Richard, has anyone been in the apartment?”
“Just Maria this morning, and then a group of nurses stopped by from the hospital. They’ve been coming by all the time, checking to see how we’re doing, to see if mom is okay.”
Chloe struggled to breathe, her breath funneling through her flared nostrils. Oh God! Could Phillips have gotten to Mom? Could she have been dosed with Memoram? A large injected bolus might accelerated the effects.
“Which nurses?” she yelled. “Was there a Nurse Wall there? Was Susan there?”
“I don’t fucking know! They said they work with you! They seemed nice. Why are you asking these questions when Mom is sick? Maybe she has more brain swelling or something!”
Chloe gulped, swallowing against the pressure building inside her. Her mother needed her. She might have been targeted to get back at her!
Oh God, Mom…
“I’m on my way, Richard!” she yelled into the phone before she slammed it down on the base.
Chloe looked around the room and took a deep breath, a cascade of emotions descending on her in a cresting wave. Guilt rode her hard, because here she was in this luxurious apartment, hiding out in a love nest getting pleasured, while her mother was being preyed upon. She should have safe-guarded her mother. She should have known that something like this could happen. She should have taken care of her! She was responsible for her welfare! She had to go to her and she had to go now! Chloe took another breath, trying to think clearly. She wished Brad was there, but she couldn’t sit and wait for him. There was no time.
It was midday. The rooftop of the building was closed. She had no choice but to go through the front. Lord knew who was monitoring the front door. She’d be recogni
zed instantly. She buried her head in her hands, despair washing over her. What am I going to do? She needed a disguise, because nothing was going to keep her away.
Chloe darted around the room, wiping the tears already splattering her cheeks. She pulled open drawers and doors. Maybe Brad had a hat or a scarf or something she could use. She yanked opened a top drawer and her breath stilled when she saw a pair of very familiar white cotton underwear. Her palms flew to her mouth and she hiccupped a sob, Brad again intruding on her thoughts. Guilt stabbed like a hot poker through her abdomen and she felt nauseous.
He kept my underwear! A tangible memory of our night in the alley… It was the fullness in her heart that slowed its rapid cadence. This was a man who held on, who was tenacious, even with memories. Things weren’t just tossed away. She shuttled in another breath as she pushed back the hair raining on her face, and just then her gaze landed on a pair of scissors. Without giving it a second thought, Chloe grabbed the implement and absconded to the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror and stared at her face, her eyes wide, wet, and glowing amber, her skin pale like endless grains of white sand. So much like her mother’s. Her mother had always said that her hair was her beauty. Not her eyes.
Her hair was tangled but flowed to the middle of her back, and she was teased with a memory of Brad’s long fingers drifting slowly through it, caressing it.
I love your hair…
Unable to withstand her own thoughts, she squeezed her eyes shut, blocking the tears. She grabbed thick ropes of the black mass, enough to fit her fist, and sliced the scissor blades through it. Air shot from her lungs with the first cut, the shock vibrating to her toes. That was the most difficult. As she continued, the blades struggled with the thickness of her tress. But thinking of her mother, Chloe fastened her mind on the task and just minutes later she was standing in the midst of a black sea, her long silky waves swirling at her feet.
Her gaze finally lifted to the mirror and she gasped at the sight. She didn’t recognize her face. She looked like a young boy. Her eyes popped out, the big bright eyes of a timid doe. A few more snips gave her cut a short, shaggy shape and she figured with some sun glasses, a man’s shirt, her jeans and sneakers, she might be able to pull it off. Ten minutes more of searching through Brad’s apartment and she found the items she needed. His shirt was very big on her, but she rolled up the sleeves and put her backpack on. That seemed to camouflage some of the bagginess. She almost put on her hoodie, but figured that walking into the building with a hood over her head would be a dead giveaway.