“What are you getting at?” I carefully ask.
“Well, I have another shipment and I need your help. If you don’t help me, then all of this will make its way to the Feds. Some of the guns have already been confiscated during drug raids. I have all the paperwork necessary to prove that you aided those illegals, drugs, and guns into the country, and were generously compensated for your troubles. So, are you going to help me out or not?” he says smugly.
“I don’t guess I have a fucking choice, now do I?” I walk back into BAR and leave Todd standing in the alley with a shit-eating grin. I’m so fucking screwed.
When I make it into my office, I lock the door and snort a couple of lines, chasing them with a pint of Jack. The rest of the night is a blur.
When I arrive at work the next day, there are several mafia-type men waiting for me. After a lengthy conversation, I find out that Santos sent them to give me the details for the pickup. Apparently, Todd has been less than honest in their business dealings, and Santos is trying to cut him out of the deal. Once they leave, I re-enter the bar; it’s business as usual and find comfort in the routine.
Unfortunately, the comfort doesn’t last long. Chloe and I get into an argument in the alley toward the end of the night. She suspects something is going on with me, and I accuse her of messing around with Skye. Neither of us likes the other’s situation.
I have nothing against Skye. We’re friends, but I don’t want him messing with Chloe. It’s that big brother instinct, which screams, "Nobody's good enough for my little sister," and she doesn’t exactly know him. I just don’t like it. I tell her this and she runs home, which is a good thing since we both need to cool off.
Skye searches the bar looking for her, and when he can’t find her, he comes to me. “Where is she, man? What did you say to her?” He’s angry, but I don’t give a shit.
“She went home. Y’all are messin’ around and I don’t fuckin’ like it.” He looks like he’s about to hit me, and I wish he would. I deserve it for the shit I’ve been doing behind Chloe’s back.
He points his finger at me. “Not your fuckin’ choice. If I were you, I would mind my own business.” He walks away, and I hide in my office to snort a few more lines.
Everyone is gone for the night, and I’m locking the back door to BAR when my phone rings. I answer Sara’s call.
She tells me about how Todd attacked Chloe, and I go off the deep end. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t messed around with Todd in the first place, he wouldn’t have been around to hurt her.
The next week passes by quickly. I’ve been high as a fucking kite since Chloe was admitted to the hospital. Everything I’ve done has been on autopilot. Chloe wakes up, and thank fuck for that, but I know that everyone has me figured out. Skye keeps telling me I can come to him if I need anything. Sara keeps staring at me funny, but doesn’t say anything. Even Chloe can sense something’s off. I’ve been avoiding Todd for days now, but I can’t do this shit anymore. I can’t be a part of the mess he’s into.
Earlier today
I get in my truck when I leave the hospital and call Todd. He answers on the first ring. “About fucking time.”
“I’m on my way. Where you at?” I snap.
“No-mans. You know which one?” he asks.
“Yeah. On my way now.” Hanging up the phone, I pull out of the parking lot, and head in his direction.
When I get there, Todd hands me another folder as soon as I walk in to his dealer house in no-mans. I tuck it into the waistband of my pants, and adjust my shirt so it’s hidden beneath my clothes. “That’s the information on the job. Let’s make sure this one goes just as smooth as the last,” he says. I just nod. The documents, which are now in my possession, hold a lot of incriminating evidence that I’m supposed to memorize before the drop tonight.
Now
I unlock the alley door and walk into the dark and silent bar. I don’t even look for the light and head straight to my office. As soon as my ass hits the leather chair behind my desk, there’s a knock at the door. It opens and Todd steps in. “Let yourself in, why don’t ya,” I say sardonically.
“So, I hear my girl’s awake.” He smiles sadistically.
“Yeah, you heard that from me,” I spit.
“Well, I have another proposition for ya.” I stop him before he can go any further.
"No, after this job–” I hold up the folder he gave me at his place earlier “–I’m done.” He shakes his head like a parent would at a child who just won’t learn their lesson.
“You help me get rid of Skye and get Chloe back, and I’ll let you out of the business deal. No strings attached, and once that’s taken care of, I won’t ask you to help me anymore.” As much as I want to rid myself of him, I won’t do that to Chloe. I’ve started thinking Skye is good for Chloe; I’m not fucking that up for her.
“You know she’ll never go for that!” I yell at him.
“That’s your problem. If she doesn’t, you have to help me make the drop. If she does, then you’re free to do whatever you want. Have you heard from her since she woke up?”
“I saw her at the hospital, but I haven’t heard anything else. I don’t have my phone on me to see if she’s called me or not. Why?”
“No reason. Speaking of your phone, I hope you’ve been smart enough to delete all of our conversations.”
My facial expression remains calm and relaxed, but I can’t help the surge of fear that shoots through me at the mention of my phone. Todd smiles.
“Seen your girl Sara going through your truck earlier, so I cut the block. When I got back she was gone. I have a feeling she’s got your phone, along with lots of information she shouldn’t have. Get in my truck and let’s go get your fucking phone. You better pray to God she hasn’t been through it yet.” I run to Todd’s truck, hopping into the passenger seat. He has the truck moving before I can get the door shut.
Todd drives toward Sara’s to see if she’s at home and I’m praying she isn’t. We cut the last corner and there she is in that matchbox car she loves so much. Todd pulls up right behind her and his phone starts ringing. He looks at me with a murderous smile, and my gut starts to churn.
“Well, Tommy boy, it’s about to get real.” I don’t want to know what he’s talking about, but my heart drops to the floor when he starts talking to Sara.
Skye comes back for the afternoon visiting hours. He and I both lie next to each other, lost in our own thoughts. The room is silent, with the exception of the occasional beeps coming from the mechanical tattletale next to me. His arm is wrapped around my shoulder, and his fingers lazily graze the sensitive flesh on the back of my arm. The chills his touch sends through my body serves as a constant reminder of how I feel about this man, how much he affects me.
So much has happened in such a short time. I realize I haven’t been able to truly grasp everything going on. The attack, Tom’s odd behavior, and Sara not answering the phone; one problem serving as a distraction from the other. I fear that as soon as I step out of this room, those problems will be standing in a line, waiting to slap me in the face. Skye assures me that no matter what, he is going to be there, standing protectively by my side through it all, and I believe him.
I’m overwhelmed with a million different emotions, each pulling me in a different direction, so I find comfort in knowing I’m not alone.
My biggest fear is that when things finally hit me, I’m going to lose it. Usually, when I have to deal with something horrible, I push it to the back of my mind and ride it out until it works itself out. With this situation, I’m not so certain I’ll be able to do that. There’s too much hurt, too much betrayal involved to be able to block it out and forget. Each situation is a constant reminder that things aren’t how they appear to be, and that thought terrifies me.
With everything going on right now, I’ve decided that Sara is at the top of my list of priorities. I don’t have a good feeling about the missed calls and texts; something in my gut tells
me to fear the worst. She always answers my calls no matter what time, day or night, regardless of what she’s doing.
“Skye?” I quietly call out.
“Yes, love?” Love? The word washes over me in a wave of ecstasy as it rolls off his tongue. It amazes me at how one little word erases my fears, washes away my worries, making my sex clench with need. I shake my head, clearing the lustful thoughts from my mind and regaining focus on what it was I want to ask him.
“Have we heard anything on Sara yet?” His body tenses and his hand stills. Skye pulls his arm from behind my head, props up on his elbow as he shifts his body toward me. He reaches his free arm up, and pushes an errant strand of hair out of my eyes. His body language concerns me and sends an arctic chill through my veins.
“No, not yet. Baby, I’m sure she’s fine. We can try to call her again in a little bit.” Before I can respond, a knocking on the door interrupts our conversation. I catch sight of Sally standing in the door, a warm smile lights up her face. She raises her arm, and I note the papers in her hand.
“Chloe, I’ve some great news for you. Is it okay to discuss things freely in front of Skye?” she asks.
“Of course. What is it?” I’m excited to finally get some good news. I definitely need it right now.
“We’re moving you to another room. I’ve got the necessary papers processed and ready to go. I need you to gather your personal belongings.” She looks at the papers. “Room 406 is right up the hallway. How soon can you be ready to go?”
“She’s ready now,” Skye fires off quickly for me and rolls off the bed. He takes the three steps to the corner of the room and leans down to grab my bag. In his bent over position, his navy blue t-shirt rides up, exposing a small amount of his tan flesh, along with his white and blue striped boxers. My eyes stay glued to the spot where the cotton meets his sun kissed skin.
Sally clears her throat and walks over to me. I turn my attention to my blanketed knees in an attempt to hide my blush. “Sit back. I’ve got to take the IV bag off the stand, and disconnect the heart monitor. There’s a wheelchair outside your room that you’ll need to be in so I can take you to your new room.” I nod in understanding.
Sally takes the next few minutes to detach the IV and heart monitors as promised, paying great attention to not cause my beaten body any unnecessary pain. My head still throbs from time to time, but the majority of the pain is from the bruises, and stiffness from lying around so much. My ribs are still sore but I’m able to manage with little to no pain medication, much to Doctor Jacobs’ amazement.
Skye remains stoic at the foot of the bed, watching every move that Sally makes with the impatience of a small child. He catches me staring and his green eyes glow, with what, I’m not sure. “Skye, can you bring the chair to the end of the bed and help me get Chloe in it?” Sally asks.
Someone knocks and I look up to see Cheyenne’s mom standing in the doorway. She looks a little better today. Her brown hair is styled to perfection, hanging down her back in long waves. Her stunning, porcelain skin looks almost angelic, just like her daughter’s. “Hey,” she says timidly. “I wanted to come by and say hey. Are you leaving?” she asks.
“No, just moving to a different room. How are you?” I ask. Sally quickly excuses herself, while Skye remains seated in the chair.
“I’m here, I guess. Thank you for listening last night.” Her lips pull into a tight line.
“I told you, anytime. Have you made a decision?” She nods, as her eyes flood with unshed tears. When a sob leaves her throat, I realize she’s decided to let go. My eyes mimic hers with the defiant tears I tried to hold back. My chest aches for this woman. I have had enough pain and suffering in my short life to last myself and several others a lifetime. But the pain and suffering of losing a child is something that I couldn’t begin to fathom.
“It’s time. I need to let her go.” Her breath shudders, and I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I had forgotten Skye was still here. I start to introduce them but she stops me. “I just wanted to come by, say thanks, and let you know about Cheyenne. They already have her downstairs in the morgue, so I’m going to go be with her.” The word morgue makes her voice crack.
She turns to leave but I shout, “Wait, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you going to file a report?” I ask.
She shrugs and says, “When Cheyenne was admitted, the police involved themselves. Social Services, and GAPD will take it from there. I’ve given them all the information I have on him, so there’s not much more I can do.”
“What about you?” I inquire carefully.
“I’m done. He took the only thing in this world that I cherished more than him. I know it sounds dumb, but I loved him. I allowed this to happen to her. I should’ve left a long time ago; I’m just as guilty as he is for not getting her out of that situation before it came to all of this.” I start to protest, but she holds up her hand, silencing me. “Don’t say I’m not, I know better. When Cheyenne is laid to rest, the police will be taking me in to custody. Seems they feel the same way I do. I left, but when he found us, I took him back. I should have ran again but I didn’t. I allowed my child to stay in that situation, so I’m at fault as well. Ya know, I thought I would be terrified at the possibility of going to jail, but I’m not. I feel like justice is being served. My baby is in a better place, she’s not hurting, and no one will ever hurt her again. That gives me peace.”
My chin trembles at her words, while my ability to speak abandons me. “Chloe, take care of yourself.” She smiles and backs out of the room.
“What the hell was that about?” Skye asks. I fill him in, and by the time I’m done, Sally, Skye, and I all have tears running down our faces. Skye kneels in front of me.
“Baby, that’s horrible.” I just smile, not sure what else to say.
Sally clears her throat. “Well, let’s get you in your room, shall we?” Skye and Sally work together to get me in my chair.
We set out on our short journey to my new room. When we pass through the ICU doors, I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders and spirit. I feel like a prisoner who has served their time and is now free. My unfounded fear of the unknown attacking me once I left the ICU has vanished.
When we arrive to my new room, I notice the room is all white and smells sterile, exactly the same as the last. This one, however, has a television and a phone, as well as its own bathroom. Much to Skye’s dismay, it also has the same type of recliner sitting over in the corner.
Sally and Skye each grab an arm and help me to my feet. Looking at Sally, I ask, “Is there any chance I can take a shower?” I give Sally a hopeful smile.
She gives me a reserved look and says, “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to bathe alone until you gain some strength, since you’re still unstable on your feet. I can give you another sponge bath if you’d like.”
Before I can respond, Skye joins the conversation. “What if I help her shower?”
“If you help her, then a shower is fine. Just please be mindful of getting your head wet. I can bring you some of that dry shampoo I used before. Be careful, and call me if you need help. There’s a nurse call button inside the shower.”
I think I might burst from happiness. “Thank you so much, Sally.” I look to Skye. “Isn’t the detective on his way?”
Skye looks to Sally. “Detective Sanders is on his way. He won’t know that we moved to another room. Will you send him this way when he gets here?”
“I can do that for you. Other than the shampoo, is there anything else I can get you?” she asks.
“Can you get me some Ibuprofen? I think I’m starting to get another headache,” I tell her.
“Sure thing, sweetie. I’ll give you a few minutes to get showered, then I’ll come back.”
“Thank you,” Skye and I say in unison. Sally maneuvers the wheelchair out of the room and closes the door.
“Well,” I say, suddenly uncomfortable. Skye smiles and sets my bag in the corner of
the room.
“Do you want to try Sara again?” he sighs. I immediately nod and he pulls my phone out of the bag. After a few rings, I can hear the automated lady says that the voicemail is full. He hits end and calls her again from his phone, getting the same response.
My head tilts toward the floor as worry burns my gut. The bed dips and a strong arm wraps around my shaking shoulders. “Baby, it’s okay. I’m sure she’s fine,” he says as he attempts to comfort me. The tears run down my face and Skye does the only thing he knows to do to calm me down, he sings. I listen to his powerful voice, getting lost in the beautiful lyrics.
When the beautiful song ends, I ask, “What song was that?”
“‘My Beautiful Rescue’ by This Providence. It reminds me of you,” he replies with a thick voice.
I look to him and place my hand on his cheek, guiding his mouth to mine. Our lips meet, and our tongues dance as my heart soars.
Skye pulls back, and with a lust filled voice, asks, “How about that shower?” I’m a little annoyed that he can so easily pull away from our moment, while I’m so desperately trying to hang on to it.
When I pull from our embrace, she looks up at me, curiosity, annoyance, and lust stares back at me. Everything she does is so sensual, from the way her lips part on their own accord, to the way she darts her tongue out to wet her lips, only to start biting on her bottom lip again. My dick is standing at attention, throbbing in desire.
I reach up to that ill-treated lip, freeing it from its confines. I need to feel her lips on mine again. It’s been entirely too long since I’ve had Chloe’s attention, and felt her properly pressed up against me. The pecks on the cheeks, temple, and lips have been the only physical contact I’ve had with her, and if I don’t have her soon, I may self combust. The caveman in me wants to grab her, throw her against the wall, rip every shred of clothing from her hot, tight body, and mark every inch of her.
More Than Friends Page 18