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More Than Friends

Page 21

by Tabetha Thompson


  My thoughts leave me feeling numb and broken from head to toe. My heart is about to beat out of my chest and is showing no signs of slowing down. Never before have I been so scared in my life, not even on the night I was attacked. Everyone remains eerily quiet, the only sounds are the squeaking of sneakers hitting the polished floors. I was so distracted with my own thoughts that I don’t remember the journey from my room to the emergency room.

  “Chloe?” I turn to Sally and wait for her next words. Her words register in my mind, one at a time, reminding me of a robot. “You’ve got to remain calm. You’re my number one priority, and I was instructed to take you back to your room if you get upset again. I cannot, and will not, allow you to upset Sara either. Do you understand?” Her words are stern, but her facial expression betrays her. Her kind, grey eyes are heavy with concern and sadness.

  “Yes.” The word comes flying out of my mouth, barely a whisper, before I realized I’ve said anything. She nods, and with a small push, we enter the room.

  Sara’s room is separate from all the other cubicles in the ER. My eyes immediately zone in on her sitting up in her bed, but she’s asleep. Harley sits next to her, holding her hand and watching as his thumb lazily glides over the skin on her knuckles. He glances up at her face and just stares for a long time, diligently looking for any signs of trouble that may come from her.

  I can’t help but notice the sadness in Harley’s eyes when they finally land on mine. He stands, his eyes quickly glance at Sara. When he walks around the bed the stress of the situation sits heavily on his shoulders, causing them to sag in grief.

  When he reaches me, he bends his knees, and wraps his long arms gently around me. Without thinking about it, I begin to compare him to Skye. Where Skye’s arms lack Harley’s in length, they more than make up for it in bulk. Harley’s pale, freckled skin flashes from beneath his t-shirt, revealing a beautiful display of greens and teals inked into his skin. When he pulls back, I take a moment to admire the tail of some sort of bird, peeking out from under the sleeve of his navy blue shirt.

  “What is that?” I ask cautiously. For a moment, he looks confused, but then realization dawns on him.

  “It’s a phoenix. I’ve had it for a few years now.” He pulls the cotton material back as far as it will stretch to reveal the rest of the bird. The tattoo is so beautifully detailed it astounds me. The head and body of the phoenix rests partially on his collarbone, and extends to his shoulder. The swirls of bright oranges, pinks and fiery reds cause my eyes to go wide with intrigue. The tail extends down his deltoid, fanning his bicep and is made of an array of greens and teals.

  He smiles proudly as he should; it truly is a work of art. My curiosity gets the better of me and I ask, “Does it mean anything?” His proud smile turns into one of sadness, then into a tight line.

  A dark cloud appears over his face as he responds, “Yeah, let’s just say life hasn’t always been kind to me. But what matters is, I rose above it and beat my demons.” He shrugs and I decide to drop it.

  I take a deep breath through my nose and notice the hint of gasoline. The faint chemical smell is enough to make my head swim.

  “How is she?” I ask.

  “She’s going to be fine. Her left leg is broken, as well as her right arm, and a couple of ribs. She has lots of bruises and has nine stitches on the left side of her face.” He points to Sara and I see stitches stretching from her cheekbone to her chin in a jagged line. My heart is breaking for my friend. Her beautiful, honey-colored skin is a sickening, yellowish color under the florescent lighting.

  “What happened?” I ask him.

  I can see the reluctance to tell me in his eyes. Harley turns on a sigh of exasperation. He walks back to the chair and sits on the edge and leans forward. Putting his head in his hands, he says, “If I tell you what happened, you have to promise not to flip out. It won’t do anyone any good. I know it won’t be easy to hear, but neither of you need to get worked up, so I need you to be as calm as you can.” All I can do is nod. Using words right now isn’t even an option.

  Time seems to pass by at a snail’s pace as I learn all the details of what has happened. By the end of Harley’s story, tears are rushing rapidly down my cheeks, and my insides feel like they’ve been through the blender. My mind is spiraling out of control, rolling all the information around in my mind.

  Todd’s involvement in Sara’s accident, Tom’s dealings with Todd, Sara and Harley, it’s just too much. I feel like I’m going to be sick; this is all too much to process. All of Tom’s betrayal, deceit, and the lies are crushing down on me with the force comparable to a ten-ton brick, breaking me.

  “Ughhh.” Everyone’s eyes quickly move to Sara. Her eyelids open and close a few times before she realizes she’s not alone. She warily scans the room. Silent tears stream down her face when her gaze finds me. Skye maneuvers my chair so that I’m right next to her.

  I reach up and take her hand in mine. “Sara, I–I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “For what?” she croaks. Her cast stretches out, and she runs her trembling fingers down the side of my face.

  “Everything.” It comes out as a whisper as I hang my head in shame. I know deep down that I had no control over this, but I still feel like it’s my fault.

  “Look at me!” Her voice is still soft but also stern. I lift my gaze to hers. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t ask Todd to beat you within an inch of your life! You didn’t ask me to steal Tom’s phone, or confront him. That was all me, baby. And neither of us asked Todd to run me off the road.” She swallows hard and continues. “I knew what I was doing, and I did nothing that you wouldn’t have done for me. If ya wanna know the truth, I would do it all over again if it meant those assholes were caught. So you don’t get to apologize, or feel like it’s your fault. None of this is your doing.” My shirt is soaked from the tears that are running down my cheeks. I don’t know what to say to her, so I just hang my head and stare at a chipped piece of tile on the floor.

  There’s a soft knock and everyone turns their focus to the door. Detective Sanders and another officer enter the room.

  “Chloe, I need you to come upstairs with me so that I can get your statement. Sara, this is Officer Barton. He’ll be taking your statement.” He states matter-of-factly.

  I turn to Sara and say, “I love you. Call me when you’re finished here, if you are up to it.” Skye lets Sally wheel me out of the room.

  We’re all silent and lost in our own thoughts on the way back to my room. I can’t believe everything that has happened in the past week.

  Once I’m safely back inside the four walls of my room, Sally and Skye help me into my bed. Detective Sanders is standing at the foot and Skye has settled next to me, holding my hand in a silent display of support. I’ve come to rely on him so much since I woke up two days ago. I don’t know how I would have gotten through all of this without him.

  “Chloe, how are you feeling?” Sally asks me.

  “I’m getting a headache and I’m getting hungry, actually,” I tell her.

  “I can call down to the cafeteria and order you some lunch. You can have soft foods today and I’ll bring you back some pain medication. I need you to try to rest once you finish with the detective. If you can’t do that with visitors, then I’ll have to make them leave.” She looks at Skye sternly. I can’t help but laugh at her scolding tone.

  “Skye can stay. I’ll rest, I promise. Sally, I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for everything you’ve done, but I just want you to know that I really appreciate everything.” Tears well up in my eyes.

  “You are more than welcome, dear. Now, I’ll be back shortly. Skye, can I get you anything? I know you haven’t eaten today. When I go to lunch in a few minutes I can bring you something back,” she kindly offers.

  He smiles at her and says, “That would be great. Thank you.” He reaches for his wallet and hands her a twenty-dollar bill. “Please buy your lunch
as well.”

  She rolls her eyes at him. “I brought mine, but thank you anyway. I’ll be back shortly.”

  She leaves the room and the detective wastes no time. “Okay, Chloe. I need you to state your name and the date, as well as the time. Then I need your recollection of everything from the attack, or events that led up to it, until today.” His robotic tone makes me nervous.

  “I’m afraid I don’t remember much from the attack, though,” I admit.

  “That’s okay. Just tell me what you do remember. Skye gave us a lot of information from his involvement, and that has helped to form a good case against the suspect.” His tone softens slightly, which allows me to relax a tiny bit.

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath to steel myself for the onslaught of memories that are going to come. I state the formal information of my name, date, and time, like the detective instructed. I dive into my story with as much detail as possible, starting with Todd approaching me at the bar. The more I recount the events before the attack, the more I remember.

  Skye squeezes my hand, silently reminding me that he’s here for me. The tears are now flowing rapidly. My voice is shaking, and I can barely get my story out because I’m sobbing so badly.

  The minutes slowly tick by, but Skye keeps his arm wrapped around me the entire time, making this easier than I thought it would be, and for that, I am beyond grateful.

  Chloe’s retelling of her story is harder to hear than I thought it would be. The only thing saving me from losing my mind is the fact that she’s wrapped in my arms, safe and sound.

  A knock on the door interrupts Chloe, and Sally walks in with a white grocery bag. “Am I interrupting anything?” she asks as she sets the bag down.

  Detective Sanders speaks first. “No, I think we have all we need. Chloe, I’ll be in touch. We still have your phone, and when we get everything we need from it, I will return it. Is it safe to assume that I can reach you through Skye?”

  Before she can answer, I blurt, “Yes.” She lifts an eyebrow in amusement and smiles.

  “Very well, then. I’ll be in contact. Chloe, if you can think of anything else, give me a call. Skye has my contact information.” Detective Sanders stands.

  “Thank you, Detective,” Chloe mumbles. The detective leaves the room just as Sally sets about the task of pulling the food out of the bag.

  She hands Chloe a Styrofoam tray. “There is a diner down the street I went to. Dr. Jacobs said he didn’t mind you getting food from outside the cafeteria, as long as it was soft. I took it upon myself to get you some macaroni and cheese and mashed potatoes. I hope that’s okay.” I can see drool forming in the corners of Chloe’s mouth, and I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

  Sally also notices Chloe’s expression, and starts laughing, too. “I figured you wouldn’t mind. I hope you enjoy it.”

  She hands me a plate. “I just ordered their lunch special for you. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s more than okay. I’m not picky.” I say as I open the plate. It’s piled full of meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes with gravy, and a roll. Sally and I laugh when we realize Chloe is staring at my plate, dumbfounded.

  “Don’t worry, Chloe. You’ll be able to have that kind of stuff soon. Here, take these.” Chloe’s face turns crimson, and she removes her gaze from my food to a spot on the wall. Sally hands Chloe two white pills. I don’t ask questions, and watch Chloe take them, then hold open her mouth as proof that she swallowed them.

  Before Sally and I can blink, Chloe is stuffing her face with cheesy goodness, giving out appreciative moans that have goose bumps breaking out across my skin.

  I unwrap my spork and begin eating as Sally quietly slips out of the room.

  “Ohmygod this is so good!” Chloe moans through a mouth full of food. An amused chuckle slips out and she looks at me confused. “What?” she mumbles.

  “Nothing, I was just noticing how hot you were.” I smile.

  “And that’s funny, why?” she asks as she shovels another helping of macaroni into her mouth.

  “No, love, there is nothing funny about it. What is funny though, is this.” I pull out my phone and quickly snap a picture of her. “See?” I turn my camera to face her so she can see.

  “Delete it now!” she growls. I turn the camera toward me again, and smile. There’s absolutely no way I’m deleting this picture of Chloe. The gravy on her chin, the cheese stuck in the corners of her mouth, and the glassy-eyed look on her face makes her look almost deranged due to my horrible photography skills.

  However, the picture doesn’t do her justice. Her messy hair causes my finger to twitch, and I have to fight the urge to run my fingers through her strawberry locks in an attempt to tame it. The food stuck to her chin and mouth causes my tongue to crave the taste of her, mixed with the Southern goodness from the diner. My stomach is full, but my appetite is nowhere near satisfied.

  Chloe stares at me from her side of the bed, waiting for me to delete the picture. I smile mischievously, sliding the phone in my back pocket.

  “Skye,” she cautions, her tone of voice is meant to be a warning, but I accept it as a challenge.

  “Chloe,” I mimic her tone. The stoic expression on her face cracks. Laughter bursts from her chest as she playfully swats my arm.

  “You’re really gonna delete that picture, right? It’s horrible!” she whines.

  “Nope, I’m going to set it as your caller ID.” Her eyes widen, and I mock the gesture. She starts to speak again but I quickly dip my fork into my mashed potatoes and hold it out to her. Her eyes move from the fork to my eyes. Searching for something, but I’m not sure what. Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip; I mimic her action. Her chest rises and falls faster with each breath as her face flushes.

  I slide the fork past her lips and she slowly wraps them around the plastic utensil. When the fork starts sliding out of her mouth, I watch with fascination as her lips drag across it. I can’t help but be jealous of the fork.

  Chloe clears her throat, it’s then that I realize I’m just sitting here, staring at the damn fork, holding it midair. “Something wrong?” Chloe asks, trying to hold in her laughter. I ignore her question.

  Chloe leans back and pats her belly. “That was good; I’m so full.” I grin, and slide up next to her. With a steady finger I reach up and wipe the gravy that’s still stuck to her face off. “Shit,” she mumbles and blushes. She allows me to wrap my arms around her while we lie in bed.

  We decide to watch TV and settle on a very old rerun of Hee-Haw on CMT. I haven’t watched this show since I was little. My mom and I would sit in my dad’s recliner together and watch it while Dad was gone in the evenings, probably at some bar.

  Chloe must notice that I’ve drifted to somewhere dark. She snuggles in tighter to my side, but says nothing. I intertwine our fingers together and look at her. She must feel me staring at her because a moment later, I’m gazing into her beautiful green eyes.

  “I love you,” she blurts quickly. I think she surprised herself just as much as she has me. Both of us sit there staring at each other, with eyes full of adoration for the other. Her hand hovers over her mouth, and mine is pulling it away. I don’t know if it’s the medication making her bold, but before she can try to take back her statement, my mouth is on hers.

  My hands are all over her, running through her hair, roaming lovingly over the silky skin on her cheeks, like they can’t decide where to touch first. My insides are starting to heat up rapidly, my breaths coming in short, quick pants. I pull away and scramble off the bed, dropping to my knees, my hand still holding firmly to Chloe’s.

  “I love you, Chloe. More than you’ll ever know. I have loved you since the day you walked into that diner eleven years ago. I’ve loved you from a distance for so long. I can’t live without you, Chloe. I need you more than I need my next breath.”

  She interrupts me, “Skye, stop!” My insides tremble in fear. She’s going to take back what she said and I’m going to b
e left broken and rejected. My mind and heart join forces and scream at me in unison, not a chance in hell of that happening.

  Before I can speak, she blurts, “I can’t live without you either, Skye. I love you so much!” It’s her turn to slam her lips against mine. Her tears start to flow and I pull back to look at her face and realize that these tears are happy tears, very happy tears.

  My heart is soaring, my spirits lifted, and my mind at ease. There will never be another moment in my life that will ever cause me this much joy.

  Chloe pulls away from me, gasping for air. After she catches her breath she says, “I want you to know that I knew I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you in Tom’s office.” I smile at her heartfelt words, and take over the conversation.

  “I want to spend the rest of my life loving you, Chloe.” I reach up and cup her face. “When we get out of here, I am going to get us our own place, and we’re going to get married. When we get out of here, I’m going to buy you the biggest rock I can find and place it on that delicate little finger.” I reach for her left hand, bring it to my lips, and kiss her ring finger. “We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, just you and me, and when you’re ready, I’m going to fill your belly with as many babies that look like you as you’ll let me.” I kiss her hand again.

  She’s speechless. Her eyes are glowing from happiness and tears, her head bobs up and down rapidly in agreement.

  Us both confessing our love for one another has left me feeling like there’s a giant weight that’s been lifted off my shoulders. For the first time, I feel at peace. I feel invincible.

  Chloe and I will have the happily ever after I’ve been dreaming of since we were in school. I’ll do whatever I can to see to it.

  When I open my eyes, I’m lying on a bed, in what looks like a hotel room. The thick drapes expand from one side of the small room to the door, blocking the light that’s peeking around the edges and making the room look dim and unwelcoming.

 

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