by Skye Jordan
“And Chloe?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Nothing to do now but wait. Get yourself some coffee. When I’m done here, I’ll meet you in the surgery waiting room. Fourth floor.”
I leave the waiting room with my head spinning. How did this happen? How had I missed the signs? I knew Keith was secretive, and I knew Piper was acting that way too. I should have pushed harder.
In the hall, I stop and lean my back against a wall and scrub my hands down my face. I pull out my phone, and my finger hovers over Chloe’s contact info. But the thought of hashing this out with her when I’m already at my limit has me shoving the phone back into my pocket and heading for the cafeteria.
17
Chloe
Laiyla, KT, and I sit on one of the docks, swinging our feet. The night is a perfect seventy degrees, the lake and marina quiet now that everyone has returned to their houseboats. We’ve been chatting about the guys and the resort and Laiyla’s wedding, but I can’t relax.
I glance at my phone again, checking to make sure the sound is on and that I haven’t missed any messages.
“You’re really worried about this,” Laiyla says. “You check your phone every five minutes.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “I expected one of them to call by now. I’ve left several messages for them both. Maybe I should have offered to mediate the discussion. I mean, in a way, it’s really none of my business, but I know Xavier isn’t going to take this news well. He can be so rigid when it comes to rules and ethics, shoulds and shouldn’ts. Everything for him is so black or white. I hope he’s letting her talk and not shutting her down.”
“What time does Xavier’s shift end?” KT asks.
“It ended over an hour ago.”
“They’re probably just having a heart-to-heart,” she says. “Take it from me, sometimes dad and daughter’s heart-to-hearts can last days. And Xavier is as close to a father as Piper has.”
“Yeah, probably.” But I won’t feel better until I know the result. Only a few more days and this will be over. Maybe Xavier and I can slow down and really start to enjoy our relationship.
KT’s phone rings. She pulls it from her pocket. “Speak of the devil.” She taps the speaker and says. “We were just talking about you. You’re on speaker.”
“Is Chloe with you?” Ben asks.
A chill rolls through my stomach. Maybe it’s the words or the tone or just my amped sixth sense, but I know something bad has happened. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“Have you spoken with Z tonight?”
My hands fist. “No, I’ve been waiting. What happened?’
“I’ve got this confidentiality thing to work around,” Ben says, “but I can tell you that Z’s walking these halls like a caged animal.”
“Is he okay? Is Piper with him?”
“He’s fine—physically. That’s about all I can tell you. Not sure if you want to come down or not, but I wanted you to know, well, as little as I can tell you. If you come, check the waiting room on the fourth floor first. If he’s not there, text me, and I’ll page him overhead.”
I’m already on my feet. I push into my flip-flops and run to my boat to grab my keys, then back to the parking lot, muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the whole time.
Laiyla and KT are waiting at the car.
“Let one of us come with you,” Laiyla says.
“No.” I slide behind the wheel with a brief “I’ll call you” before launching out of the parking lot.
The drive is quick, maybe eight or ten minutes, but in those minutes, my mind has conjured up terrible scenarios. Scenarios that are crazy and unthinkable. Xavier would never hurt Piper. He’d step in front of a bullet for that kid.
Had there been an accident, leaving Piper hurt? Had Piper anticipated the tough conversation and tried to hurt herself? I haven’t seen any signs of self-harm or depression, but in hindsight, her anxiety has been pretty high.
God, did I go too far? Had forcing her to show her hand to Xavier pushed her over some ledge I didn’t know about?
Tears blur my vision by the time I reach the hospital’s main entrance. I’m shaking as I hurry to the elevators. I push the Up button, then glance at the directory and find that the fourth floor is the surgery suite.
“No, no, no.” I press my fingers to my trembling lips. I get on the elevator, push Four, then close my eyes and whisper, “All beings of the highest truth and compassion, please, please, please let Piper and Xavier be okay.”
I walk off the elevator into a small, vacant lobby. To my right is an empty hallway, and to my left there is a wall with a plaque directing visitors to surgery.
Surgery.
I can’t believe this is happening, but all my denial falls away when I turn the corner. Xavier is crouched against the wall, elbows on knees, hands clasped and pressed against his mouth, eyes closed. His uniform shirt is untucked and his body armor lies on a neighboring chair, which is when I notice another cop in the room: Sergeant Lucero.
“Z,” Lucero says, dragging Xavier’s eyes open before he pushes to his feet.
I don’t know what I expected, but I’ve never seen the dark expression or the cold look in his eyes.
Lucero stands and nods to me. “Chloe.” Then to Xavier, he says, “I’m going to refill my coffee.”
Xavier doesn’t speak until Lucero is in the elevator and we’re alone. And even then, I have to prod him. “What’s going on? Is Piper in surgery?”
“Yes.” His walls are twenty feet high. I’ve never seen them before, and I’m beginning to understand why everyone who should be afraid of him usually is.
Instead of being relieved, I’m growing even more frantic. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
He paces away from me, hands on hips, then turns to face me and exhales heavily, as if it’s all just too much. “Piper was in some type of challenge with Smith, Dale, and Willow.”
He’s talking like a cop, clean, measured, official, definitely not the man I’ve spent too few nights in bed with. And not my friend either.
“What kind of challenge?” I ask.
“You don’t already know?”
My stomach chills. “No, why would I know? And why are you using an accusatory tone?”
“Maybe because the last words she said to me were ‘It’s not Chloe’s fault.’”
I gasp, and my hand flattens on my heart. “She’s… Last words…?” I look around for some indication that she’s not dead but in surgery. I return my gaze to Xavier. “Stop talking to me like a cop and just tell me”—I put one hand out and ticked off my demands—“what is Piper’s status right now, what is her prognosis, when will surgery be over, and what the fuck happened?”
I yell the last, tears on my cheeks, my body trembling.
He tells me about the break-in at the dispensary and why she’d done it. Tells me about her injury and how serious it is. Tells me again about Piper’s last words before going into the ambulance. “You knew Piper was hanging with those kids. You knew she was cutting school and smoking with them. You know how hard I was trying to keep her on the right path, yet you deliberately kept all that from me.”
“Just because I caught them cutting school and smoking,” I say, “doesn’t mean I knew anything other than they were cutting school and smoking. I didn’t know anything about any game. I told her that she’s not like the other kids, that she has people who love her, especially you. I reminded her of just what you gave up to be here with her and that she should act like she appreciates your sacrifice.”
He crosses his arms and lifts his chin in a way that’s both knowing and accusatory. I’m getting a firsthand look at the reason so many people are intimidated by him. “You didn’t know about them passing drugs.”
I pull in a breath to say no, but realize I can’t. “I only found out about that today. I told her she had to tell you as soon as you were off work, or I would.”
His arms drop, his hand
s dig into his hips. “Why didn’t you tell me right then and there? Why didn’t you pick up your phone and call me right that second?”
“Because you were working.” We’re both yelling now. “And it wasn’t my story to tell, it was Piper’s.”
“You should have known I’d want to know immed—” He stops midsentence and darkness crosses his eyes like a shadow. “You knew all this when you called me this afternoon. You called to see if Piper had told me yet.”
“I was worried about how you’d take it. How she would respond.” I throw a hand toward him. “And this is exactly why.”
He takes one big step toward me, but I’m not afraid. I’ve never been afraid of Xavier. Only right now, I sure as shit can see my heart teetering on a cliff ledge.
“If you’d told me when it happened, if you’d told me when you called today, I could have stopped the break-in. Hell, if you’d told me the day you saw her cutting and smoking with those fuckers, I could have intervened even earlier.” He slashes his arm toward the OR. “Then maybe she wouldn’t be in there right now.”
Pain cuts through me in a hot swath, and I fall back a step. Then another. I can tell by his expression those words also hurt him. Maybe even shocked him. But he’s right. If I had told him everything I knew, maybe the whole trajectory of Piper’s immediate future would have shifted. Maybe she wouldn’t be in a life-threatening surgery.
“You know how important she is to me,” he says, voice low and shaking. “You know, more than anyone, the challenges I have with her. I explicitly told you she was being secretive and that I was worried about it. You were supposed to be helping me with her, not keeping her secrets.”
Someone comes into the waiting area—a man dressed in blue scrubs wearing a stern expression. “We can hear you all the way in the back of the department.”
He’s scolding, but I guess we deserve it.
Xavier pushes his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. Is there any word on Piper Tenley?”
“I’ll check and send a nurse out to talk to you. Just keep it down. You’re not helping anyone by yelling.”
He turns to head back through a set of double doors just as the elevator dings and Piper’s mother hurries in, disheveled and emotional. She stops and studies Xavier’s face.
“She’s still in surgery.” His words are soft and sweet and patient, yet they hurt me even more than his yelling did. “We’re going to hear more soon. Someone’s going to come talk to us.”
Karen steps into Xavier’s arms, and I watch him comfort her, shell-shocked. The contrast of how he spoke to Piper’s neglectful mother and how he spoke to me drives the knife home. I know more about Piper’s daily life than her mother does. I spend more time with the girl and am more involved with Piper than her mother is. Yet, I’m the one Xavier yells at? I’m the one he blames?
I know right then and there, it’s over between us.
When I left Bodhi, I swore I’d never let another man degrade my self-worth. Anger, I can accept. Fighting, I can deal with. Miscommunications, I’m all too willing to work on.
But this…no. Not this.
18
Xavier
When I release Karen, I glance over my shoulder for Chloe, but she’s gone.
Everything hits me at once—how worried I am about Piper, how pissed I am that I couldn’t see it coming, and yeah, that Chloe didn’t talk to me about her own suspicions. But that conversation got way out of hand. I wasn’t ready to see her, wasn’t ready to talk about it, and we both ended up fueling the anger.
What a goddamned mess.
I don’t have much time to think about it when someone else comes out of the OR. She’s tall and thin with a birdlike but pleasant face.
“Officer Wilde?” She offers her hand, and we shake. “I’m Doctor Macy.”
She turns to Karen. “Are you Piper’s mother?”
“I am. Please tell me she’s okay.”
“She’s okay.” She’s got a kind smile and a soft manner. “Piper is a very lucky girl. She damaged her vocal chords and her esophagus, but managed to miss her major vessels. She came through the surgery strong.”
Karen makes a sound and sags against me. The same relief flows through me, and I suddenly and fiercely wish Chloe were still here.
“We’d like to keep her a few days. But she’s young and healthy, and I don’t anticipate any issues.”
“Oh my God,” Karen says. “Thank you.”
“When can we see her?” I ask.
“She’s in the PACU until she comes out of the anesthesia, and then we’ll take her to a room. Grab food or coffee and call your loved ones. Someone will come out to tell you where she’s being moved.”
Karen and I thank the doctor, and as soon as she disappears behind the double doors, Karen pulls out her phone. “I have to call Henry. He’s going to be worried.” She wanders away and crosses one arm over her middle. “Hi, honey. Yes, she’s okay.”
Honey? Henry? I have no idea who she’s talking to. Last I heard, she was dating a guy named Glen, which was less than three months ago.
I’m suddenly exhausted. I lean my ass against the windowsill and try to soak in the relief. I need to call Chloe. I’m not sure if she’s going to be angry or hurt, but I shouldn’t have been the person to cause those emotions.
“She’ll have to stay in the hospital a few days,” Karen says, “but I can probably get back to work once she can go home.”
Anger creeps up my spine. Since Keith died, I’ve had countless conversations with Karen, all but begging her to put Piper closer to the top of her priority list. It’s been nothing but an uphill battle.
And I’m so done.
I push off the windowsill and stalk toward Karen, pulling up just short of running into her. Startled, she looks up.
“If you don’t make some significant changes,” I tell her while she’s still on the phone, “I’m going to not only report you to children’s services as a neglectful mother, I’ll sue for custody of Piper.”
Karen sputters. “Wha—what? Xavier—”
“I mean it.” I walk away from her and take the stairs to the bottom floor. In the lobby, I find Sergeant Lucero sitting in the lobby reading a magazine.
I wander that direction and sink into a chair across a table from him.
“News?” he asks.
“She’s out of surgery, did well, staying a few days, then home. Expected to make a full recovery.”
Lucero tilts his head. “Then why do you look like you just lost your best friend?”
The cliché hurts. “I might have.”
“Chloe flew out of here. I’m used to seeing you draw women, not repel them.”
I rub my face with both hands. “Fuck.”
Lucero makes a sound in his throat. “I think you’re about to get your ass handed to you by a different woman.”
Confused, I look up and find KT standing in front of me. I’ve never been afraid of a woman, but KT is fucking formidable.
“Drop that duty belt so I can kick your ass.”
“That’s a cue for me to head out.” Lucero pushes to his feet and faces KT. “KT.”
“Carl,” she returns the greeting.
Lucero glances over his shoulder at me before leaving. “Might want to take this outside. Just a suggestion.”
“I agree,” KT tells me.
I sigh. “Why are you mad at me?”
“How can you even ask?”
Well, shit. My family, who isn’t really my family, has all but disintegrated, and now my circle of friends, one of the only places I’ve felt like I might actually belong, is threatening to eject me.
“I’m exhausted,” I tell KT. “If you want to kick my ass, just do it. Otherwise, sit down so we can talk.”
“Fucking coward,” she mutters. But instead of sitting down, she paces back and forth in front of me. “How could you blame Chloe for what happened to Piper? She cares more about that kid than her own mother does. She’s open and loving and gi
ves Piper a place to vent. If you want to blame someone for Piper slipping through the cracks, look in the mirror.
“You’re so fucking rigid, Piper can’t talk to you about the really important shit, and her mother is worthless. Chloe made Piper feel special. Chloe listened and guided. Chloe accepted and supported. So, let’s see,” KT says, gesturing with her hands. “A warm, loving woman, or a critical, rigid godfather? Understanding or judgment? Options or limitations?” She tosses her hands in the air. “If you were a fifteen-year-old girl, which would you choose? Piper did what any kid would do—she hid things from people who judged her and found a place where she’d be accepted. Nothing about that is Chloe’s fault.”
Someone comes up to us, and I glance that direction. It’s Ben, wearing blue scrubs under a white lab jacket. “Whoa, whoa,” he says to KT as if he’s trying to calm a spooked horse. “Take it down a notch, Tiger.” He slides his arm around KT’s shoulders, and I expect her to push him away, but she turns into him and lets him hold her as she mutters, “Asshole.”
Ben makes a face and shakes his head at me as if to say, She doesn’t mean it.
“You’ve made your point,” Ben says, voice soothing. “He almost lost his goddaughter, babe. He’s entitled to a little crazy talk. Let him take a breath.”
“I have to pick up the girls from your sister anyway.” She levels that angry gaze on me again. “Leave Chloe the hell alone. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Ben walks KT out the main entrance, and I’m alone again. At this time of night, the hospital lobby is empty and the quiet closes in around me. I drop my head into my hands and exhale all the air from my lungs. “Fuck. Me.”
19
Chloe
It’s another stunning night lakeside. I’m trying to get some words in on my book before my evening yoga class, but I haven’t been able to find one word of inspiration or instruction or even hope for my readers since I walked away from Xavier four days ago. This is the last evening of the conference before life returns to normal—thankfully, I won’t have Bodhi in my face anymore, but unfortunately, I won’t have Xavier either. Only this time, I won’t even have him as a friend.