Forever & More: The Friend Zone series (5 page)

“What was that?” I say again. She offers me a lazy smile, her eyes shining bright, threatening to light up the entire room. While gazing into her eyes, I can’t help but notice the way her pupils are so dilated that they almost take over the green of her irises. Before she can answer my first question, another is out of my mouth. “What did you take, Chloe?” She’s still on some mild pain medications because she suffers from severe migraines from her head trauma. On top of that, Chloe’s on a small dose of Xanax for anxiety.

Even though all her medications are safe enough to be taken within small amounts of time together, if she takes to them too soon or takes too much of them within a certain time frame, the effects can be damaging and leave her without the ability to function like a normal person. Basically, she will be high as a fucking kite.

She gives me an annoyed glower and I can see her mind trying to come up with an excuse that will appease me and lower my concern. “It’s okay, I just took half of my usual dose of Xanax. I feel a little light headed, but I haven’t eaten either.” She shrugs casually, as if it’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have ignored all those warning signs that were gnawing at me. She gets up off the bed and when she stands on her feet, her body sways slightly. In the time it takes her to blink, I’m by her side and holding her up.

“Chloe, you need to tell me what’s wrong?”

She snatches her body away from me.

“I told you I’m fucking fine, Skye! I just wish you’d believe me!” she screams as she jerks her clothes back on. Once she’s fully dressed, she storms out of the room and slams the door.

When I enter the kitchen a few minutes later, Sara’s at the table talking animatedly with Harley. They both silence the moment I step in the room.

“Everything copasetic?” Sara asks, looking at me, then at Chloe leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen.

“YERP,” Chloe spouts before walking around the bar into the kitchen. The door rattles loudly from across the room.

“Put your knickers on, ladies, I’m comin’ in.” Without waiting for our acknowledgement, Brady barrels in. The slight glossy sheen to his eyes tells me he’s hammered.

“What’s up, rot cock?” Harley says and Brady glares at him. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Harley’s innocent expression causes everyone but Chloe to laugh.

Brady notices that she’s not finding the moment as humorous as the rest of us. ”See, the rest of you assholes think you’re fucking hilarious. But, not boss lady. She’s got my back.” He slides in next to her and wraps an arm around her.

I’m just about to grab him by the throat and rip him away from her when she cringes and pulls away. Brady immediately looks guilty. We all know that since she’s come home, she doesn’t like to be close to anyone emotionally or physically, until today. Something has happened in the last 24 hours that caused her to flip a switch. I would say it’s a good thing since we were intimate for the first time in months. The sudden change in her moods and the way she wants it is what baffles me the most. Just yesterday, she would cringe when I touched her. However, since we’ve gotten home from the cemetery, every time we’re alone, she pounces on me. I notice her throwing herself at me with her body but in her eyes, she’s so withdrawn. We used to have sex so sweet it would rot your teeth.

Now I know what Brady meant when he would refer to slow, passionate love making as sugar sex. Today was something entirely different though, it was like an inferno. So extremely hot, so consuming that at any given minute, it will engulf you in flames and burn you alive. I love inferno sex, but is it really what she needs? With her past looming in her present, someone holding her down and pulling her hair, or slapping her ass and pounding into her mercilessly can’t be good for her psyche.

We’re grasping at each other desperately trying to hang on to the other, but the only thing still linked are our pinkies. The ultimate pinky promise to never let go, to hold on to her forever.

I’ve got to get with Sally to see what I can do to help pull her out of her mind and the horrible place she seems to be content on staying in. This is not my fierce, strong Chloe; this person is an empty shell of who Chloe used to be.

No matter who she has become, I refuse to let her stay inside herself. I will build her back up and get her back.

“Man, you ready?” Harley asks, eyeing me cautiously. I look at him in confusion for a moment until it suddenly dawns on me what he’s talking about.

Wary of leaving Chloe alone, I glance at her. She nods her consent, knowing I don’t want to leave her. Before I leave the room with Brady and Harley, I find my resolve; I have to try harder. If I don’t, I will be giving up on myself, my life, and my happiness, and all of these things sit in the palm of her sullen hands.

I walk over to Chloe, place both hands on the counter, pinning her in between my arms. I lean my head in toward hers and smile when I see her lips part as she takes in a small, harsh breath. I clash my mouth into hers with newfound vigor. She responds immediately and wraps her arms around my neck, completely losing herself in the kiss.

It starts off as a kiss meant for goodbye, but rapidly turns into a “hello” that rocks me straight to the core. I feel the rush of blood that was swarming my head and making me dizzy, stream straight to my cock.

A throat clears from behind us, but I couldn’t care less. Chloe, however pulls away, gasping for air. A pink hue burns her neck and slowly works its way to her cheeks.

Brady decides that this is the perfect moment to open his mouth and say, “If you’re done with the peep show, which was worth half a woody by the way, can we go?”

Harley slaps him on the back of the head, causing everyone to laugh. He leans down and plants a small kiss on Sara’s cheek. I turn back to Chloe.

“You sure you’re all right to get Sara to BAR alone? I can come back if you need me to.”

She smiles softly, her eyes are still hazy, her smile somewhat lopsided. “Yeah, I can handle it. We shouldn’t be far behind you. I’ll call if I need help.” Her words drag out and slur together.

“All right.” I plant another kiss on her lips and pull away before she can reciprocate. I start to follow the guys out the front door, but then realize I’ve gotta give her the keys to the Jeep so she can get Sara to BAR. I tell the guys to go ahead, that I will be right behind them. The keys are in my pants pocket on Chloe’s bathroom floor, so I head that way to retrieve them.

When I enter the cold room, I immediately spot them exactly where I left them earlier. I reach down and pick my blue jeans up. A soft tinkering sound bounces off the walls, I look down and spot the source. Six tiny, blue pills are scattered haphazardly across the floor. For a few long moments, I just stare at the small ovals as apprehension settles over me.

I lean down, scoop up the pills, and toss them in the toilet. I wait until they sink to the bottom of the bowl and flush. The water swirls, dragging the pills away with the undertow. For a moment, the thought of flushing the whole bottle is extremely appealing, but then I think about how it will affect Chloe. I know what she’s doing; I’ve been seeing all the signs for the past month. I’ve just been praying I was wrong, but her behavior, combined with the haze in her eyes, all prove my theory. Chloe’s self-medicating; I’m just not sure if it’s her pain medication or if it’s her Xanax or both.

Icy tendrils of dread replace my blood. How the fuck am I going to approach her with this? First thing I need to do is catch her in the act, that way she won’t be able to deny my accusation. Apparently, I’ve conjured her up because she stands in the doorway, watching me intently. Her body language is sluggish and lazy.

“Hey, they’re waiting on you.” Chloe nods in the direction of her bedroom door. I want so badly to confront her problem, to start the process of getting her off the medication, but I don’t. Instead, I walk to her and wrap my arms around her. The top of her head sits right under my nose and I can’t help my body’s natural reaction to her. I inhale her intoxicating aroma of strawberries and vanilla. She starts shaking with laughter so I pull back.

“You sniffing me?” She raises a playful eyebrow in question. Since she’s being playful for the first time in months, I decide to hold my tongue and continue the banter.

“Can’t help it. You smell good enough to eat.” I wag my eyebrows.

“Mmmm,” she groans. “I’m gonna hold you to that.” She presses herself against me. It takes everything in me to rip myself from our embrace, and she grumbles in protest.

“I have to get going; the guys are waiting,” I state while placing another kiss on her forehead.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll see ya in a bit,” she says.

I make my way out of her bathroom, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Sara’s sitting in her wheelchair; when she notices me enter the living room, she perks up. I pull the Jeep key off the ring and hand it to her.

“Here’s the key to the Jeep. Y’all be careful and call me if you need anything!”

She salutes me and grabs the key from my hand while saying, “Yes, sir.” I laugh under my breath at her antics and leave. I quickly dash down the stairs. The moment I step onto the pavement, I’m blinded by the hot Georgia sun. The sun may be blazing, but the chill in the air indicates fall is in full swing. I rush to where the guys are waiting, taking in my surroundings as I go. It’s hard not to notice the beauty of all the oranges and yellows of the changing foliage.

“Hurry the fuck up, man. I need another drink,” Brady belts from the driver’s seat of his candy apple red, 1970 Chevelle. I rush over to the passenger side and get in. As soon as the door shuts, his tires squeal and we peel out of the parking lot, leaving a cloud of smoke in our wake.

BAR is a couple of blocks up from Chloe’s apartment, but Brady drives there like we’re going six hundred laps at a NASCAR race, pedal to the floor, white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, and determination in his eyes. This is a man on a mission, and the mission for tonight is to drink, sing, and party like it’s his last night on earth.

“Slow the fuck down, dude. You’re going fifty in a thirty-five. You’re gonna get pulled over,” Harley yells from the back seat.

“Why don’t you let your nuts out of those lace panties and be a man for a little bit,” Brady throws back at him. Thank God we pull in to the empty parking lot at BAR a moment later.

The engine is silenced before the wheels stop rolling. Brady jumps out of the car and hauls ass to the front door.

“Ya think he’s thirsty?” Harley chuckles from the back seat. I just laugh and shake my head as we exit the car.

Before we reach the door, Harley speaks. “Man, you wanna tell me what’s going on with Chloe?” He waits patiently for me to answer his question.

I sigh deeply before replying, “I don’t know, man.” I rub my hands over my face and realize they’re softer than they usually are. “Something’s going on inside that pretty little head of hers, but she ain’t lettin’ me in. We have to go see the detective tomorrow, so I’m sure it’s gonna get a hell of a lot worse than it already is before it gets better.” It’s in this moment I realize, I fucking forgot to tell Chloe about the meeting with Detective Sanders.

I sigh in exasperation, tomorrow’s gonna be one long ass day.

The moment Skye disappears around the corner, I strip down to nothing. The chilliness in the room causes goose bumps to assault my skin. I float into the bathroom and turn the shower on. I feel amazing for the first time in forever. Everything is numb and tingly; my body is running on autopilot. I exist without having to force myself to do so.

The thousands of flutters on my skin makes me smile a lopsided grin until I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Dark, soulless eyes, pale skin, my cheeks are sunken in while my ribs stand out. In the last few months, I haven’t noticed the weight I’ve lost. Sure, I realized my pants were too big, but I’ve never taken in the way my bones bulge out. I look like someone from one of those “save the starving people” commercials.

I stare at myself, lost in thought. Is this what Skye sees when he looks at me? Does he like this half-starved, mental head case version of me? Somewhere deep within me, I’m disgusted at what I’ve allowed myself to become. I feel exactly like what the stranger staring back at me looks like, haggard and beaten. I swiftly spin my back to the mirror, the room tilts and I barely catch myself before hitting the floor.

“Chloe, you ‘bout ready?” Sara screams from the living room.

I bat my eyes a few times to clear the haze before I respond.

“Yeah, give me a few. I gotta shower,” I shout back. I jump in the shower and clean myself. The whole time I wash myself, I can’t help but enjoy the way my hands glide over my body. By the time I’m done, I’ve worked myself into such a mess; there’s no way I’ll be able to function if I don’t do something about it.

The white foam from the bath gel is lathered thick on my skin. I drop the rag and slide to the floor of the shower. Slowly, I run my hands over my slick skin until I find my nipples, hard and ready. I tweak them and release a moan, but it’s not enough. I need more, so I squeeze them harder, until they’re stinging. When the ache registers in my mind, it shoots straight to my sex. My head becomes so heavy, I rest it against the wall behind me.

With the meds, everything feels so much more intense. Every touch is like a feather tickling my senses; when I walk, it’s more than that, it’s as if I’m floating. On the few occasions I laugh, I truly mean it, because the things that are constantly stomping on my heart and running through my mind don’t matter. I’m able to push them into the darkness to be lost until I come down from my levitating cloud of bliss.

One hand remains focused on my nipple while I move the other slowly toward my sex. The bubbles collect on my hand as I glide it down my wet body. I part my legs and allow the warm water to rain down on my hot core. My hands finally find my clit and the moment my fingertips make contact with the sensitive nub, my body jolts and a feeling of white-hot heat shoots through me.

My lips find their way between my teeth and I bite down. The twang of blood explodes across my taste buds, exciting me further. My fingers begin a circle motion and apply a little more pressure, but it’s not enough to set me off. I grunt in frustration, I need more. I need this so badly so I work my fingers faster. The orgasm moves closer, but it’s not enough. I’ve never been so agitated in my life; I want this so bad and just like so many other things in my life, it’s just out of reach.

A thought comes to me, but I’m not sure if I can do it. It would be the first time I’ve ever imagined. My fuck-it-all is firmly in place when I slide up the wall and sit on my right wrist. I start to work my over my breasts again, tweaking and pinching until my clit throbs so hard I think it may explode. I lean to the left slightly and slide my middle and ring finger into my wet heat. My fingers curl and stroke the walls of my sex, causing me to quiver. I’m so close but again, I need more.

I think about Skye and how rough he was giving it to me earlier, my sex clenches around my fingers.
Oh god yes!
I continue to slide my fingers in and out, while clamping onto my nipple, hard. I’m riding my fingers furiously and have moved my pointer finger so that every time I thrust forward it hits my clit. A few flicks of my overly sensitive nub later, my body explodes into a million pieces, I scream in agonizing bliss. I continue to rock myself back and forth until I’m spent and sated.

When I remove my fingers, I slump against the wall. My mind wanders to places I try to hide from, but it’s no use, the darkness always finds me. I think about the last time I was at BAR, the night of my attack. Things between Tom and I weren’t left on a pleasant note. When I woke from my coma, I had hoped we could patch things up but it was too late. He was too far-gone, too deep down shit creek and then he was thrown from this life into the next.

A tear slides down my cheek. I’m so close to falling over the edge into full hysterics until I hear Sara’s suspicious voice. “Girl what the fuck are you doing in there? Are you okay?” I hear her chair squeaking against the hardwood floor.
Fuck, I bet she heard me scream, she’s coming in here.

I scramble to get to my feet, grab the soap, and begin to wash my hands and body again.

“Yeah, I slipped and almost busted my ass. I’ll be out in a minute.” I shout back. The way the lie coats my tongue has become a familiar taste lately. They’re piling up around me like manure in a barn full of horses.

I kill the water and reach for my towel. After I’ve patted down, I look into the mirror hoping that I look a little more like myself, but that’s not the case. With a heavy sigh, I wrap the towel around my body and walk into my room. My head feels a little clearer and lighter. My movements aren’t as sluggish and heavy.

I walk quickly to my closet, knowing Sara she’s about to storm in my room and wonder what the hell is taking me so long. I grab the nearest ripped up pair of blue jeans I can find and pair it with my sleeveless Jack Daniels tank top. This is a shirt I picked up online, I love it I just never had the guts to wear it, but I’m feeling brave tonight for some reason.

I slip on a hot pink bra and the matching thong. I search the floor for my black cowboy boots, when I can’t find them I drop to the floor.

I’m on all fours searching underneath the racks of clothes when I hear Sara say, “Well this is definitely a side of you I haven’t seen before.”

I jump a foot in the air and hit my head on a shelf. “Fuck Sara!” I growl. I reach up and flinch when I feel the goose egg forming right at my hairline. Something warm starts trickling down my forehead. I reach back up and touch the knot, when I pull my fingers away they have blood on them.

I get up and run back to the bathroom. When I turn on the light, my head starts to throb lightly. The girl in the reflection looks exactly the same as she did before but with one exception, the already purple bulge on her head.

It hurts like hell, but there’s nothing I can really do about it. I open the medicine cabinet, and once I find what I’m looking for, I open the cap and pour two of the giant white pills in my hand. For a moment, I debate whether I need one or two, but eventually I settle on taking just the one.

“You alright?” Sara’s voice makes me jump.

“I will be when ya’ quit sneaking up on me.” She laughs at me.

“What was that?” She asks.

“What was what?” I play dumb.

“The meds? Was it pain or anxiety?” I stare at her for a moment wondering if I should really tell her what I took.

I decide against it and say, “Tylenol.” pointing at the angry golf ball sized lump as explanation. She looks from the bulge to my eyes for a moment then rolls out of the doorway so I can get to the bed and finish getting dressed.

As I pass her, she says, “So you and Skye seem to be getting along.” Her voice is laced with sexual innuendo.

“Yeah, we’re good.” I shrug.

“Just good? Sounded like it was way more than “just good.”“ She laughs. I turn to face her, when my eyes meet hers the first thing I notice is the way her eyes are lit up more than they usually are. The sadness and concern are still there, just not as much as they have been.

“Yeah, we’re good.” I smile at her.

“That’s good. How you been holding up?” She carefully asks. I huff in exasperation. I knew this was going to happen. The moment we are alone the shoe would drop and she would wanna talk about feelings and what happened. Unfortunately for her I have no intentions of discussing anything to do with this topic and ruining my night and I tell her so.

“Look, I know you’re worried, but I really don’t wanna bring down my mood and ruin tonight with all the depressing heavy stuff. Just for tonight can we avoid all things drama and just have fun?” I beg.

She gazes at me for a moment before saying, “Alright, but you realize we need to have this conversation eventually. We’re gonna let sleeping dogs lie for now. Now get ready I need a drink.” She wheels out of the room.

Sara’s resilient; she won’t let this go until I bleed my emotions dry on her shoulder. I resolve to deal with it when the time comes. I pick up my discarded clothes off the floor and spot my boots lying not too far from my outfit, hidden under a mountain of dirty clothes. I make a mental note to find time to do laundry in the very near future. Once I’ve shimmied into the skintight jeans, I slide the black tank top over my head.

I enter the bathroom, my phone is on the bathroom counter so I grab it and set it on the docking station and hit the Pandora app.
Love in an Elevator
by Aerosmith comes through the speaker, lifting my spirits instantly.

A few minutes later, my hair is dry and I begin to apply my makeup. As per my usual, my makeup is light and natural except for my eyes. Tonight I opt for a grey smoky eye, which makes my green eyes shine like a beacon in the night.

“Yo, hoe face, you ready or what?” Sara shouts from the living room. I flip my head upside down and ruffle my hair. When I stand back up, I glance in the mirror and approve of my bad girl appearance. Before I walk away, I pull my top down to show off my cleavage.

I enter my room, sit on the edge of the bed, and slide on my black cowboy boots. My standing jewelry armoire sits directly in front of me against the wall. I pick out a silver, multi layered cross necklace that dangles to my chest. I slide a bangle bracelet on one wrist and a black leather strap on the other. My earrings are simple, oversized hoops, once they are slid into my ears, I go to the living room.

Sara’s parked at the kitchen counter with a bottle of Jack in hand. When she sees me coming down the hall she whistles. “Fuckin’ A. Do a lil’ turn for me hot momma. Let me see that tight little ass.” My cheeks flush, but I play it off by rolling my eyes at her. “No shit Chloe you look amazing. Ya wanna shot?” She holds up the bottle.

I haven’t had a drink or a cigarette since the night I was attacked. I can still hear the music playing from the bathroom so I nod yes to Sara and run back to my room to grab my phone and keys before we leave. When I get into the bathroom, I notice the light on my phone blinking, indicating that I have a message.

I tap the screen and see a missed message from Skye.

I miss you. How much longer are you going to be?

Leaving in 10.
I reply. My phone chimes.

You need me?

Na. I got it.
I send back.

K. Love ya. Be careful.
Instead of responding I slip the phone into my back pocket.

When I get back into the kitchen Sara is patiently waiting on me, two shot glasses sitting in front of her filled with a brown liquid. I gesture to the glass in front of her and say, “That for me?” She picks it up and extends her arm. I reach over and take it. She holds hers up in the air to say a toast, so I copy her gesture.

“To the scars that remind us of our past and the mistakes we made to get them. To the healed flesh that reminds us that everything fades.” We clink glasses and down our shots. The burning from the alcohol has nothing on the burning in my eyes from the tears I’m desperately trying to hold back.

“Suck that shit up! There will be no crying tonight.” Sara backs her chair up and wheels herself into the living room. “You ready?” She tosses over her shoulder as she passes me.

“Yup.” I croak. I grab my ID and keys before Sara and I leave the apartment. After I lock the door, I push her chair to the elevator and hit the down button. We wait silently for a few minutes until the bell chimes, signaling that the doors are about to open.

We enter the empty carriage right before the doors shut, a small feminine hand reaches in between the doors. Her black fingernails curl along the edge and hits the trigger that makes the door open back up. When the doors are completely open, I’m a little surprised to see the dark haired stranger enter the elevator.