Scandal: The Reckless Series, Book #3 (The Reckless Crew) (6 page)

“I’m sorry.” I look up to Kip. “I’m sorry that happened. There was no warning, it just nailed me in the gut.”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. It’s not your fault, Chloe.”

“But it is and that’s the thing I’m worried about never being able to get over. It’s my fault for staying. I knew better than to have my hair done.”

Kip looks over to Ava and Darby who are silently crying for me.

“It’s. Not. Your. Fault,” he bites out. “You need to go to a counselor. This is horrible shit.”

“I agree,” Darby whispers.

Ava nods in agreement. “He will not win this or own you any longer.”

“I hate my hair.”

Kip smooths a hand over my hair and Ava follows him.

“What do you want to do about it?” he asks.

“Let me shave your head.” Darby wipes the tears from her face. “It’s on my bucket list to shave a best friend’s head. Please!”

A light laughter fills the air, taking some of the heaviness from us.

“I like her hair.” Kip pulls me further into him and protecting me from the blades of a clipper.

“No clippers, Edward Scissorhands,” Ava spouts.

“You have to learn to love yourself.” Kip grabs a hip and twists me to face him. “Life has broken you. The cruel reality of a society so desperate for power and greed consumed your soul. Every single day, unfair things happen to innocent people all over the world.”

I swear I see tears form in his deep brown eyes, but they never spill over. He talks to me like Darby and Ava don’t even exist.

“If you live in the prison Zack has put you in then you’re there forever. The memories will never fade and the hurt will only multiply on a daily basis. You have to fight to right his wrongs. It’s so unfucking fair, but it’s the only way to survive.”

His large hand cups my cheek. I flinch for only a second and then relax into him.

“Fix your soul, Chloe; the world deserves it.”

“
K
ip
,” I holler from the inside of the bathroom.

“Yo, dawg.”

He’s been light and funny all evening from my major meltdown earlier. I’m exhausted; actually, I think I’m two more minutes from all my major organs shutting down from exhaustion. I’ve never experienced a panic attack in all of my years and as the hot water was pouring down my back in the shower I couldn’t believe what had happened. Why didn’t my body ever experience one of those when with Zack? It’s like I accepted the fact I actually deserved the punishment.

“I need help.”

I blow my bangs out of my face as he opens the door.

“Sorry, I’m pathetic.” I tug the towel tighter around me.

“Do you know how some people train their dogs with shock collars?”

“Uh…”

“Well, I need to like pick my nose or scratch my balls every single time you put yourself down. You know, break you of the habit.”

“You’re weird. I didn’t put myself down.”

“You called yourself pathetic.”

“Well, I’m an adult who can’t dress herself because I have no energy to mambo into my clothes one handed and that’s pretty pathetic.” I place a triumphant hand on my hip, proving a point.

Kip places his pointer finger up a nostril, digging for gold to prove his point.

“Gross, stop.”

“Next time you put down yourself, I’ll pull one out.”

I gag and try to pretend like it’s a fake one, but it’s really not.

“A beautiful man like you shouldn’t be picking your nose to teach me a lesson.”

“I’m not teaching you a lesson, I’m helping a friend break a habit and I’m handsome, not beautiful.” He rolls his eyes for added effect before spinning on his heels to wash his hands.

“If you insist, but I’d prefer ball grabbing.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“Maybe for a treat.” He smiles. It’s not a pervy smile or I want in your panties smile, but a friendly and joking one. “What do we have going on here?”

He points up an down at my towel covered front.

“I tried really hard.”

“And you did awesome,” he finishes for me.

“Okay, Mr. Rogers, it’s a wonderful day in the neighborhood too.” I drop the towel from my body, not knowing how to explain the mess without putting myself down.

He covers the smirk on his face with his stretched palm.

“I’d ninja kick you if I wasn’t hobbled.”

He bends down without saying another word, slipping one of my legs from the tangled mess of panties. It’s not as easy putting them on exhausted, one armed, and did I say exhausted? I appreciate the fact Kip didn’t say anything else and instead bent down to help me out.

I place a hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I pick up one leg and wait for him to glide my panties back up. When he has them mid-thigh he leans back a bit, looking away, letting me wiggle them the rest of the way up.

He surprises me when he doesn’t rise to his feet immediately. I finally look down to see what he’s staring at. It’s the long scar on my outer thigh. Goosebumps race over my flesh when he runs the pad of his finger over it. I stare up at the ceiling, fighting back the threatening emotions.

His hot breath is on it and then his lips. Kip peppers every inch of the scar with his lips. My legs begin to shake nearly out of control. Both of his palms cup the backs of my legs. His lips pull back a bit and my scar burns. It actually fucking sears with pain the moment his lips are gone.

I sink down until I’m face to face with him. Kip falls back to his ass on the tile floor and brings me down to straddle his lap. I bury my head in the crook of his neck and cry again.

“Keep touching me there,” I whisper between tears.

His fingers strum along the raised line and I feel the shredding pain begin to disappear.

“You make it feel better.”

He brushes my short hair over my shoulder with his other hand, leans down and kisses my cheek.

“Good.”

I’m not sure if it’s on purpose or not, but he then runs his hands through my hair. He plays with it like it’s his favorite thing in the world. I want to ask him if it’s another training tactic of his, but I don’t want to break this moment between us.

“Kip.”

He moans out a sort of yes.

“I can tell you were a really good cop. It was your voice and words talking me down today. Thank you.”

T
he bed is
warm and soft. I roll over and realize I must’ve fallen asleep in Kip’s arms on the bathroom floor. I stretch my legs and feel Boozer at the end of the bed. The alarm clock shining in the room lets me know it’s only four A.M. Kip’s sleeping face is barely visible by the stream of moonlight shining through the window.

He kept his hand draped over my side when I rolled over to him. I trace the worry lines on his sleeping face lightly with the pad of my finger. I reach over and kiss his chin. I’m so lost. It’s been only a few days here and I thought for some strange reason the past would just fade, but it hasn’t.

I’m broken, wandering an endless path of despair, but it’s him who is keeping me grounded. I want to float away and not feel anything. Reliving the past or even attempting to heal from it seems inevitably hopeless.

“Crackers?” he mumbles, not opening his eyes.

I giggle. “No.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Go back to sleep.”

“You first.” He pulls me into his chest and runs his hand through my hair.

I smile against his chest and only nod. It takes a few seconds for the rise and fall of his chest to coax me back to a deep sleep.

The next time I open my eyes, Kip is much hairier and slobbering. It’s Boozer who’s taken his spot in the bed.

“Morning, boy.” I pat his head and he cuddles closer.

I roll over to my back and stretch my good arm up, wiggling away signs of sleep. When I sit up, I’m not dizzy or even feeling any pain. The first thing I notice is that my heavy hair isn’t coating my shoulders. It feels good, almost like a bit of freedom.

“Sleep okay?”

I look up to Kip standing in the doorway to the bathroom with a toothbrush dangling from his lips. He’s fresh from the shower with a towel tied around his waist.

“I did. Actually.”

“Love the hair.” He winks at me before turning back to the bathroom.

I hear the water running and him spitting out the toothpaste before he comes back into the room. I find myself playing with the short ends of my hair and feel a bit victorious.

“I have an idea,” Kip announces when he walks back in.

I raise both eyebrows in question and wait for him to spill it.

“Let’s go on a road trip.”

“A road trip?” I ask, feeling my nerves flare up.

“You feel good enough to ride on the back of my bike? It’s about a thirty minute drive.”

“Honestly?”

He nods.

“I feel up to it health wise, but mentally it’s like I’m just beginning to feel comfortable here now.”

“It’s a place I went to after all my shit went down on the force. I’m assuming you know about it from your comment last night.”

“Sorry.” I look down at my cotton candy pink painted toes. “Darby told me.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Glad she told you. We have more in common than you know.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Think about it. We could leave for three or four days. I think it would really help you.”

“I’ll think about it.” I nod.

He walks out of the bedroom and I’ll admit I followed his strong backside until he vanished into the hall. The man is so opposite of Zack in every single way. He’s tatted, tanned, muscular, and dark in his own way. He’s the stereotypical man every woman should be terrified of.

Zack is clean cut, professional, all-American, and the man every mother wants their daughter to marry. But he’s the devil. Where Kip is the unconventional angel.

I pick up the cellphone Ava left me the first night and dial her number.

“Wello.”

“Charlie.”

“Momma, Momma, Momma.”

I hear some rustling and then Ava’s voice comes over the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Chloe.”

“Morning.” Her words are cut off by a screeching Charlie and then I think I hear Ava gag.

“Um, are you okay?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m knocked up. I’ve been fighting morning sickness non-stop.”

“Oh my God, Ava. Congrats.”

“Thanks. Zane has been dying for me to take a test, but I don’t need to know. I’m exhausted and dry heaving twenty-four seven.”

“Well, at least your beaver will be shiny when you go to the doctor.” I giggle.

“That it is. What’s up?”

I nearly forgot the reason for calling. “So, Kip wants to take me away for a few days. Says it’s a place he’s gone to when he was in a bad spot.”

“How do you feel about it?” she asks with trepidation in her voice.

“I’m not sure.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t want to experience another panic attack and I like it here.”

“I get that, but don’t you think it would be good for you to get out of your comfort zone?”

An evil laugh escapes me. “I don’t even know what a comfort zone is or if they even exist.”

“Honestly, Chloe, I think it would be good for you. A few days away to gather some thoughts and make a game plan.”

“A game plan?” I fiddle with the loose thread on the hem of my nightshirt.

“The next steps in life like divorcing Zack and taking your life back.”

“He won’t allow it. I just know it.”

“He won’t have a choice, Chloe. You need to heal and take your life back.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“We’ll be here for you.”

“I’m afraid he’ll kill me, Ava.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I do know it’s time for you to take a stand.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, how about I pack some beach clothes and Charlie and I will come over to help you pack.”

“How do you know he’s taking me to a beach? Is this a staged intervention?” I begin to panic thinking this is all a set-up.

“Dumbass, we live on the coast. It’s a guess, but if you want to lounge around in sweats on a beach then by all means.”

“Fine, get over here.”

“Give us thirty minutes.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you, too,” Ava replies.

“Daddy, love you.”

Charlie chants in the background before I end the call.

After using the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and washing my face, I find Kip in the kitchen with music blaring. I wonder for a moment if the fast paced songs are from his stripper list. I cannot picture him wiggling his wiener on stage. I bet it kills him.

“Bacon?” He crooks an eyebrow at me.

“That’s dangerous.” I point.

He peers down searching for what I’m pointing out.

“That’s like cooking 101 there, you never fry bacon shirtless.”

“Oh, really?” he asks.

I climb up onto the barstool and prop my elbows on the cool marble countertop. “Very dangerous for several reasons.”

I decide to shut up and drink the orange juice he hands me. I’m not just talking about the possibility of him being burned, but also about the potential of him lighting women’s panties on fire.

“My dad’s a doctor.” He shrugs.

Katy Perry’s song “This Is How We Do” begins blaring over the speakers and it makes me laugh.

“Didn’t figure you for a teeny bopper jammer.” I cover my mouth, trying to stop the laughter.

“Working on my dance moves and shits,” he grunts out.

“For your wiener whistling show?”

“Jesus, did Darby tell you my blood type, too?”

“Type O.” I wave, taking a wild guess.

Kip slides over a plate of perfectly cooked bacon. I despise burnt bacon and am pretty sure it should be illegal in all fifty states.

“Over easy eggs okay?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

He leans back on the counter across from me and begins eating.

“You know what, Kip? You’re going to make someone a fine piece of ass one day.”

He bites back a laugh and only nods.

“I’ll go. Ava is coming over in a bit to help me pack.”

“Great. You’ll love it. It’s a peaceful beach house of my dad’s in a quiet little town. It’s helped me in some pretty damn dark times. If nothing else you’ll be able to clear your mind.”

“Thank you, Kip.” I swirl around the little bit of eggs left on my plate. “I’m really scared of the next steps.”

“It’s normal.”

“He’s not going to be happy.”

“They never are. I saw it happen year after year when I was on the force.”

“I’m afraid he’ll kill me.”

“You took the first steps before he could. He’ll be pissed you stood up for yourself.” Kip’s words become choked and it’s like with each one that escapes his mouth, it becomes harder to talk. “When I was little…my mom.”

The sound of the front door opening and Charlie yelling her “wello” stops him. The little angel comes running down the hall with a dump truck under her arm and hair flying in every direction.

“Charlie, I told you to knock.”

“Hi.” She smiles up at me.

I hold my good hand out to her and she takes it without reservation, hoists her hot pink sneaker on the bar and climbs into my lap. Her total trust and openness inspires me to try.

“Pretty.” She plays with the ends of my new haircut.

“Thank you.”

She then pets the side of her hair and repeats the words. That’s when I see some of her hair missing.

“Yep, found the scissors.” Ava plops down a few bags.

“Oh no.” I cover my mouth to hide my smile.

Charlie turns to Kip, petting her hack job. “Pretty.”

“I like it.” He nods.

Ava sends him a glare, warning him to not encourage her.

“Charlie.” I tap her shoulder until she faces me. “Big girls go to a salon to get their hair pretty. I’ll take you next time. No scissors.”

“Okay. Momma mad.”

“She may be my twin, but she has all of Zane’s defiance and strong will,” Ava says.

“Hungry.” Charlie rubs her belly.

Kip stands up from his leaning position to make her a plate and then hands it to her.

“I’m going into town to tie up some loose ends. Be ready in a couple hours.” He stares at me and I nod to him.

Ava helps Charlie with her food, but most of the time Charlie swats her away. We don’t talk until the roar of Kip’s engine vanishes.

“Darby made some really solid connections when she went through her shit back home. There are some great detectives who aren’t on anybody’s payroll and believe in the justice system. She’s making some calls to figure out your options.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, it may seem bleak now, but there are really some good guys out there that will help us out.”

Charlie leaps from my lap and tears off towards Boozer. The dog is less than amused as Charlie lays on his back and begins tapping all of his facial features, naming the parts.

“She’s hell on wheels. Never stops.” Ava stares at her daughter.

“I love her. She cracks me up.”

“I just need energy to keep up with her.”

“You will.” I grab Ava’s hand. “When I get back. I want to come over and help out.”

I know it’s a sensitive topic with my baggage, but hope in time I’ll be able to be an active part of all their lives.

“I’ll take you up on that. I have a few editorial spots in magazines to write, but can’t seem to ever find the time.”

“Deal,” I beam with a wide smile.

Ava begins pulling clothes from a bag. “Okay, I brought you a few sun dresses, bikinis, and shorts.”

“Jesus, that looks like floss,” I say picking up a bright yellow string bikini.

“Zane threatened to throw that one away, so I hid it in the back of a drawer. You can have it.”

Ava plugs in a straightener under the bar top and goes about doing my hair without question. We fall into easy conversation about our futures and even enjoy a laugh or a hundred with Charlie’s antics.

“Do you want a boy?”

Ava shrugs. “Zane claims he wants me pregnant the rest of my life. The man loves me pregnant.”

“Your poor vagina.”

“No shit. I think if we have a boy we’ll be done. He’ll be getting snipped no matter how sexy he thinks I am pregnant.”

“Oh good lord. Good luck with that.”

“I’ll have Darby drug him and then we’ll drag his ass in.”

“I can so see that happening, too.”

“Your hair is on point.” Ava hands me her phone that’s on selfie mode.

“I actually like it and hell it looks like my face has gained five pounds over the last three days.”

“You look good, momma.”

“Thanks, Ava.”