Scandal: The Reckless Series, Book #3 (The Reckless Crew) (2 page)

“
I
t’s bad
, Dad. She’s been beaten.”

“Calm down, son, and let me do my job.” He adjusts the surgical cap on his head before leaving us in the waiting room.

It’s past midnight and the darkness outside the office windows looms in on us. My body is exhausted beyond a point I’ve rarely felt in my life. I can’t even begin to comprehend what Chloe’s fragile frame is experiencing.

The familiar roar of a Harley pulls up in front of the office followed by another car. It’s the boys. The door opens in a flash.

“Rode your bitch. It felt damn good, too.” Rhett adjusts his crotch and tosses me the keys.

“Better have talked to her nice.” I catch the keys to my motorcycle in mid-air.

“Always.”

Zane doesn’t bullshit around and goes directly to Ava. A slight twinge of disappointment appears on his face when she takes Charlie from his arms.

“Momma. Momma,” she chants through sleepy eyes.

“I missed you, baby girl.” She cradles her to her chest and pulls her fingers through her dark curls. “Were you good for daddy?”

“Daddy. Daddy.” She perches up and throws her little body over to Zane.

Ava kisses Zane and he relaxes. “Never again.”

“Uh?” Ava asks, hugging her family.

“She’s blown out of numerous diapers and found a fucking Sharpie marker.”

“Did you let Rhett feed her?”

“Never again, Ava, I fucking missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses him.

The four of them jump into a deep conversation about Chloe and her state of health. Rhett and Zane are certain Zack will come for Chloe or send someone for her. I guess Fuckface is deep in a Senate run and needs nothing but a shiny PR campaign. It’s clear the girls have been through this their whole life and know the game all too well. One thing is clear, Rhett and Zane aren’t going to put their family in danger and Ava and Darby are solid in their ground of keeping Chloe safe.

“She has no one. Just like me, asshole. I’m not ditching her.” Darby slaps Rhett’s chest.

“She left you and Ava, remember?” He sends her a hard stare that’s not willing to budge.

“Remember when I shot and killed my father and wouldn’t even have had a gun if you didn’t come for me?”

“Not fair. Quit being a bitch.”

“Stop.” I stand up and take my hat off, scrubbing my head. I don’t like my idea at all and know deep down it’s the wrong one. But I refuse to watch my friends being pulled apart because of all this.

“My dad and I live five miles out of town. They’ll never come and look for her there. She can stay and heal until shit settles.”

The office goes silent. The slamming of a door grabs all of our attention when my dad steps out from his procedure room.

“All set.” He pulls his cap from his head. “Should heal just fine. I had to put one pin in. It will be a long recovery.”

Ava and Darby put up more of a fight to take Chloe home. My dad is filled in really quickly about the whole situation and agrees with me.

“Listen.” He finally speaks up. “I agree with Kip. We’ve been through this once before.”

I cringe knowing what’s coming next. I’m a fucking quiet person for a reason and keep my shit to myself. I don’t open up.

“Dad,” I warn, but he ignores me.

“Kip’s mom was a victim to domestic violence. Lost her life at the hands of a man. This isn’t something to fuck with.”

I step back when he uses the F bomb. I’ve only heard my father cuss a few times in my entire life.

“We will take her home until she’s healed.”

The stares stabbing me from my friends is exactly why I’m a private asshole. It’s just one puzzle piece to the whole reason I am who I am. I don’t share. I don’t love and sure as hell don’t get close to anyone.

The men from the club are the first friends I’ve even dared to be friends with in a long fucking time. My mom broke my heart and then my career shattered it. I found a mindless job where my back was against the wall of the bar and learned to survive.

Rhett and Zane give me a slap on the back, but don’t say a word. Darby falls back on her charisma and flips me off. It’s just as good as hug from her. Ava is the only one who wraps me up in her arms.

“We’re here for you too, big guy,” she whispers.

She makes me feel weird and I don’t like it. I pat her back and nod. I’m not a fucking fool and remove my hand from her back as soon as it hit to avoid the wrath of poppa bear.

The office is quiet when they leave. I join my dad where he gathers up his jacket and briefcase.

“Dad, why?”

“I didn’t lie, son.”

“No shit. But…”

“I miss her and was hurt just as much as you, son. I chose to handle it differently.”

“They’re my friends. You’ve pushed for that shit since I left the force and now?”

“And now you’ve found a great group of friends to care for you.” He shuts his briefcase. “I’ll order Chinese for dinner and your friend should be awake.”

“She’s not my friend,” I growl.

“Oh?” He scrubs the side of his head. “I guess she was just crying and talking about Kip for no reason.”

He picks up the phone, ordering from our favorite place. The man is determined and when on a mission it’s pointless to argue with him. He’s been hell bent on pulling me out of my shell. He only shed the light of guilt for a few months after my mother’s death and then was determined to not let it ruin the rest of my life.

My new house is weird. My room is more like a closet than my room in my real house. Dad didn’t want me to come here this weekend, but I wanted to see my mom. I miss her. I know moms aren’t supposed to be cool when you’re in the fifth grade, but I’ve always been a momma’s boy.

Her new husband is an asshole. I’m not dumb and know what he does to her.

“Dinner, Kip.”

I race out to the kitchen, smelling my favorite dish. Lasagna. My mom’s scooping out our plates when I’m at her side.

“My favorite.” I hug her middle.

She bends down and whispers in my ear, “I made it just for you. I love you, Kip.”

“I know,” I whisper and then pull the jug of milk from the fridge.

I do know she loves me, but wonder why she can’t love herself.

She sits down at the table and bows her head, saying a silent prayer. George, her latest husband, stumbles in and plops down in his chair. I begin shoveling the dinner in. I could eat this every single day for every single meal.

“Lasagna.” The smell of liquor floats in the air.

“Want something else?” My mother begins to tremble.

He grabs her by the hair and rips her down to him. “You know I fucking hate this shit.”

Her head bounces off the table and she scrambles up. “Please not tonight. Kip is here.”

“Oh, your precious Kippy Skippy is here. I forgot. By all means, let me eat this shit.” His huge hands grab the pan, picking it up, and throwing at her.

The pan cracks her in the nose and the lasagna splatters everywhere. I race to her and stand in front of her.

“Kip, no.” She pushes me to the side.

“Let’s show your Kip just how strong you are, bitch.”

“No, George, no. I’ll make you something else. Please stop.” She pushes me again so I’m feet away.

His hand goes around her throat, he shoves her up against the fridge, and begins beating her head on it.

“Stop,” I scream, trying to pull him off of her.

His other hand backhands me, sending me sailing through air. By the time I get up to my feet, he has her bent over the sink with the spray nozzle shooting in her face.

“Cunt, making me get this shit all over me.”

She gurgles for her next breath, never stopping the fight.

“Momma.” I pick up a pan and whop George in the back.

He finally lets go of her and she drops to the ground.

“You little fucker.”

George is on me, punching my face. I scream for my mom to call for help. I’ve only ever seen the bruises, never the action.

She picks up the pan I hit him with and tries to swing it at him, but isn’t fast enough. George turns and grabs her wrist.

“Let’s just show your Kippy Skippy how to use a skillet properly.”

He has her pinned down under him and swings the pan. The first blow sends blood flying and bones shattering. I scramble to my feet and run to the neighbors’. They’re not home and I run to the next house. I finally find someone to help me, but it’s too late.

The next familiar face I see is my dad’s. I’m wrapped up in his arms crying hard.

“I killed her, Dad.”

“No, son, no you didn’t.”

“He got the skillet from me.”

“I never should’ve let you go. It’s all my fault.”

The taillights to my dad’s Range Rover keep me focused on the drive home. I didn’t fucking expect for that goddamn memory to pop up. As the years have drifted by, it recurs less and less. I can only chalk it up to Chloe’s shattered state.

The roar of the engine underneath me and the night’s cool air hitting my face soothes my soul. I let it hypnotize me on the rest of the ride.

“Buy a fucking helmet, son.”

“Don’t need one, my dad’s a surgeon.” I flip my snapback back around so the brim is facing forward.

“He can’t fix stupid.”

“Go in and get the lights on, old man. I’ll get her.” I point to a sleeping Chloe.

He nods and jogs into the house, flipping on the rest of the garage lights. Her arm is in a sling with a bunch of shit around it. I notice more bruises covering her other arm and up her neck. I have no fucking clue how I missed them earlier.

“Chloe.”

She doesn’t stir. I bend down and pick her up like a newborn. Her injured arm remains in place and she still doesn’t move. I’ve walked into this garage after hopping off my bike a dozen times and most of them were in the pitch dark, not wanting to wake my dad.

I hear the rattle of Boozer’s dog tag and know he’ll be under my feet in no time. He probably holds the world record for the oldest Golden Retriever. His sloppy kisses and floppy ears never get old.

“Back, boy.” I keep my voice low.

Darby and Ava were fearful of Chloe waking up and panicking. They sent videos to her phone and my dad reassured them she wouldn’t wake for several hours. Darby wanted to come with us, but Rhett refused because he missed his woman and it would be pointless because whoever they are would track her here.

“Guest room. It’s ready.” Dad points.

“Really, I was thinking the fucking bathroom.”

He pops me in the back of the head before going to his bedroom. He has the lamp on the nightstand on dim and the bed covers turned down. For being single his entire life, the man sure does know his way around the women.

I lay Chloe down and am relieved to see her in the sweats and baggy t-shirt the girls dressed her in before surgery. I pull the blankets up to her chin and pad out to the kitchen. Dad has her pain pills set out beside a bottle of water. The old geezer sure knows how to take care of a person.

I set them by the lamp on the nightstand and hit the bathroom right off the guest bedroom. I leave the door cracked in hopes of hearing her if she wakes. I have no clue how she’ll react and I’d expect the worse from what she’s been through.

A shower has never been so refreshing in my entire life. The hot water cleansing off the filth of the shelter and airport refreshes every part of me. I’d love to stay longer letting the hot rain of water massage my skin, but I don’t.

I’m out and drying off before I peek into the room. Chloe is still out and in the same position. Boozer is at the foot of the bed waiting for me. My dad must have set up a cot and grabbed my favorite pillow and blanket. He knows all of my weird-ass quirks all too well.

I dim the lamp and make sure Chloe’s pills and bottle of water are on the nightstand next to her. I have tomorrow off from Blue Iron and will be here when she wakes up. I look down to her pale skin and light bruises on her jaw line. They just keep re-appearing. My hands run over my hair and I wonder how in the hell I missed all of her injuries.

After several moments of silently studying her, I make my way to my cot, and collapse. My eyes are heavy and my soul is drained.

I pat the side of the cot. “Boozer, boy.”

He brings his head up from the mattress and only stares at me.

“Damn traitor,” I whisper, but it warms my heart he’s so loving and protective.

T
he room is
dark and my mind swims in fear. I reach over to the other side of the bed and Zack isn’t home. I sit up, pressing down with an arm and realize it’s bound to me. I panic, wondering if he’s tied me up again. My muscles instinctively flex in terror.

Something from the end of the bed stirs and a blood-curling scream escapes. I panic, fighting my way up to the headboard. It’s not my bed. What in the hell is going on? Has he taken me somewhere? A flash of pain blinds me. The feeling is so intense I feel dizzy.

“Chloe, it’s okay.”

A voice comes from the side of my bed and I’m afraid to look over.

“It’s Kip. You’re okay.”

His voice is soothing and threat free, but my mind whirls to figure out who in the hell Kip is. I hear his feet pad around the end of the bed until he’s standing in the dim light flowing from the lamp. It takes me a few seconds and a long dry swallow to see him.

I clutch my chest with my free hand and let out all the fear. The events of the last two days reel in my memory, which only causes the panic to rise right back up.

“Need a drink.” He holds out a bottle of water.

I only nod and watch him twist off the cap before holding it out further. The water is refreshing, taking away the severe case of cottonmouth.

“My dad fixed your arm.” He sits on the edge of the bed. “We thought it would be best for you to stay here in case…”

I finish his sentence for him. “He comes for me.”

Kip drops his head in defeat and nods.

My stomach breaks the long silence with a loud growl.

“Wait here.” He hops from the bed and jogs out the door.

I look around the dimly lit room to see very comfortable surroundings. The big red dog at the end of the bed creeps his way up with loveable deep brown eyes. I love animals, but they were always a no-no in Zack’s eyes. He claimed they only made a house stink and were dirty with hair.

“Hey boy.” I pat the bed next to me.

He creeps up further until he’s lying next to my outstretched legs. The dog is huge and sporting a few grey hairs on the top of his head. He lets me scratch behind his ear.

“Thanks for sharing your bed with me.”

Kip’s voice startles me, but the sweet smell of the food he’s carrying calms my nerves right down.

“It’s not his bed. He seems to like you a bit.” He smirks and hands me a container of take-out before easing himself down on the bed with the dog between us.

“What’s his name?” I ask.

“Boozer.”

“He’s gorgeous.” I pull the fork from the container and swirl around the noodles mixed with sweet and sour chicken.

“You mean manly and handsome, right?” Kip quirks up an eyebrow. “And eat by the way. You need it.”

I grimace at how embarrassing of a state I must be in. Whatever drugs they sent through the IVs before I passed out before surgery must’ve been good because I only remember slivers of the day before. I spear a piece of the chicken and bring it to my lips knowing the exact calorie count of it.

My stomach protests with food so near, so I plop it in my mouth and moan out loud. Once I start, I don’t finish until I’m cleaning the container .

“Cold Chinese is my favorite. Thank you.”

Kip groans. “Sorry, should’ve warmed it up for you. I don’t think of that kind of shit.”

“No, seriously, cold Chinese is my favorite. I’d eat it before every exam in college. Haven’t had it for a while.” I struggle to sit the container on the nightstand.

“Here.” Kip sits up.

“No, go to sleep.” I pat his forearm. “You’ve already done way too much.”

He fiddles with a stray piece of thread from the blanket. “Chloe, just promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Never go back to him. He nearly killed you.”

“I’m so lost.”

He covers the top of my hand. “It’s better to be lost than six feet under.”

I can’t respond as his words nail me in the gut. They are so damn true, but easier said than to actually believe them. I have no idea where on my course of life that I’d lost myself. It’s been years since I’ve seen Chloe in the mirror. I went from a strong and vibrant young woman to a fearful, beaten skeleton.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

He points to a door that’s shadowed behind it with light. “Let me know…well if you need any help.”

His voice is unsure from the awkward topic of conversation. I only nod to him and stand up. With my legs steady under me, my head spins, as does everything else in the room. I begin seeing double and then triple of everything and stumble back on to the bed.

Kip’s at my side holding my good elbow.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“Just get your ground for second.”

My stomach flips and I feel sick. Like the type of sick where I need a toilet and bucket immediately.

“I have to get to the bathroom right now, Kip.” My cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“I’ll guide you.” He steps behind me, wrapping both of his hands around me and walks me forward until I’m in the bathroom.

I look down to my pants and feel even more frustrated. Tears stream without warning. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my sweats and tugs them down. Kip remains behind me and does the same with my underwear. He slowly spins me around until I’m facing him, but never looks down at my parts.

“Sit back.” He nudges me until the cold material of the toilet lid hits my skin. “I’ll be right outside.”

I wipe at the tears with my only arm and nod. Something is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t say a word. The door makes a subdued sound clicking shut. My stomach cringes in pain and I should’ve known better than to wolf down that food. It’s not used to it and mixed with the anesthesia, it isn’t a good combination.

A pale blue wastebasket is near me and I clutch to it. My stomach wrenches in pain once, twice, and then I finally vomit the entire contents of my stomach including nasty bile. The dry heaves echo around the bathroom.

“Chloe, you okay?”

I want to acknowledge him, but can’t between the sobs and dry heaves controlling my body. I lean forward and try to catch myself, feeling my cradled arm in the sling hit the wall and I scream out in pain.

“Chloe.” Kip has the door open, stepping in. His hands are running through his hair and his face is worried.

“I’m fine,” I manage out between sobs.

He turns his back to me.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to look at me right now either.”

“Shut up.”

His two words are point blank and come out in a growl before he starts the water in the sink. In a matter of moments, he’s kneeling in front of me wiping my mouth with one side of the wet cloth and then cleaning the rest of my face.

“Please, don’t.”

He ignores my plea and continues moving about the bathroom, taking the basket from me. Kip leaves the room and returns with his phone, typing something out on it. I want to avoid this uncomfortable situation and make a crack about him texting his girlfriend.

“I’m going to help you stand up.” He laces his arms under mine and pulls me up.

Without warning, he kneels down and drags up the clothes until they’re firmly around my waist again. His actions don’t help the faucet of tears pouring from me.

Kip wraps his arms around me and acts as my crutches until I’m back on the bed. He never lets go of me.

“What’s going on?” A new voice joins the room.

I jump and let out a screech.

“It’s my dad, Chloe.” He places a hand down on my shoulder.

“Everything, okay?” The man scratches his bald head in a white t-shirt and pajama pants. I barely remember his face before falling asleep on the surgery table.

“I gave her Chinese and she threw up. She’s in pain.”

“Oh son, you should’ve known better.”

“She needs to eat.”

They go back and forth like I’m not even sitting here. I soon feel like the third wheel or a hamster perched in a cage in a scientist’s lab.

“He’s right. I was hungry and ate too much,” I finally speak up.

“Go get her crackers, Kip.” His dad steps closer to me. “Minus salami and cheese.”

The doctor shakes his head side to side. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?”

I look up into his eyes like a doe caught in headlights. I’ve been in worse pain, but the pain is bad. I’m not sure how to answer, so I only shrug.

“You need something in your belly before I give you more pain meds. Nibble on the crackers when Kip gets back and take these two pills.” He points to some pills he scatters on the nightstand.

“Thank you.” My bottom lip trembles.

He bends down and places both palms on my knees. “I’m not sure how to approach this since it’s out of the normal, but know you couldn’t be in any better hands than Kip’s.”

I nod.

Kip enters the room with a box of Saltines and cheese in the other.

“Know you too well, son, only crackers for her. Wake me again if the pain persists.” He gives Boozer a pat on the head before walking out.

Kip has me in his arms and places me back in the bed, propping pillows up behind me. He places a handful of crackers in my palm and makes his way to the other side of the bed.

“Try to get at least one down if your stomach can handle it.”

I begin nibbling on the cracker before I have three of them down. My eyes linger over to the pepper jack cheese Kip’s slapping on his crackers. My mouth waters, missing the taste of cheese on my tongue.

I pick the pills up from the bed and swallow them down with a little bit of water, not wanting another chaotic puke session. Kip coughs distracting me, so I pass him the water bottle.

“Thanks.” He gives me a sly smile.

“I have to keep my nurse happy.”

He shakes his head, apparently not impressed with being called a nurse. My eyes catch the time glaring from the alarm clock.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Kip pops up from the bed. Boozer snags the last slice of cheese as it flies up in the air.

“It’s three in the morning.”

“Good hell, you scared me.”

I laugh lightly. It’s an odd sensation, but warms me. “Sorry, and sorry for waking you in the middle of the night.”

“I thought you’d shit your pants or something.” He smiles wide and even though it’s dim in the room, his perfect white teeth shine.

I laugh hard this time, feeling light all of the sudden and very sleepy. I use my good arm to nudge my body lower into the bed. Kip’s up on his hands and knees wanting to help me.

“I’ve got it. You’ve done enough with potty patrol and all.”

We both share a laugh, but mine fades before his does as my eyes grow heavier. He goes to stand up from the bed, but I manage to catch his wrist in my hand.

“Stay here, please.”

He tilts his head in confusion and points to the cot. “I am.”

“No, here.” I push his hand further down into the mattress. I grow shy and shrug my shoulder. “It might help with the nightmares.”

He doesn’t argue, peeling back the blankets on his side of the bed the best he can with Boozer acting as a blanket weight in the middle.

“Up, boy.”

The dog pops up and then burrows under the blankets between us. I roll over on my side, taking my time and lay my arm over Boozer. The bed dips when Kip gets into his side. He rolls on his side, facing me.

“Sleep tight and no pooping the bed.”

My lazy smile warms my heart. I stretch out my fingers until they find his hard abs. Everything from Boozer and the touch of the man who’s fighting to save me cocoons me in a shelter of safety. It’s a long-lost feeling that I haven’t experienced in ages.