Chapter 65

Chloe's Point of View

I don't know what hit me first, the fact he was kissing me or the cold hard feeling that suffocated me. I love Chase. The realization hit me hard and fast in the face. My heart was basically screaming.

How the hell did that happen?

I loved Chase. That fact rolled through my body. That tiny bit of my heart that I had been holding on to, that tiny bit of heart I had gripped on to with all my strength – well, he had it. Chase had it. He had all of me.

I was completely and totally his.

I pushed Marc away from me.

"I love him." The words just came off my lips. HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN? HOW THE HELL DID I LET THIS HAPPEN?

I never loved anyone. Not my parents. Not a pet. Not a person. Never ever did I love someone.

"What?" Marc frowned.

"Chase." I got up. "I love him!" I was incredibly stupid – no, I passed stupid when I came here to live with him. I had put walls up. I had made sure to hold onto that piece of heart. I couldn't - I didn't - I just couldn't love him. Not with my whole heart.

Because I knew. I knew deep down that Chase would leave me. That we would break up. I knew that because nothing good ever came into my life and stayed. I would lose it. And I would be left alone again.

This was no different.

It was only a matter of time.

And this time, when we parted ways, it was going to nearly physically kill me, which had me on my feet.

"Not what I wanted to hear," Marc grumbled. "Wait a sec, where are you going?"

He wouldn't understand, but I did as soon as I realized things. I was doing the one thing I was good at - running.

States. I needed to put states between Chase and I. I had to for my own safety. He had the power to kill me and what was worse, I had given him that power.

My hands landed on the car keys. Marc must have realized what I was doing because he was quick to move around me and block my exit.

"Move, Marc."

"Just because I kissed you, it doesn't mean you should run to him." His words were hard and cold, direct.

But he didn't get it. I wasn’t running to Chase, I was running as far away as possible from him.

"Not running to him. Now move." I pushed him, but he didn't budge. Why did the McKenzies have to be built of fucking stone?

Realization covered his face. "You're running. That's even fucking worse!" He dove forward for the keys, but if there was one thing I had over him, that was speed. So I moved around him, opened the front door, and bolted for my car.

He didn't get it. No one would get it. I couldn't let Chase have that power over me. Because he, like everyone else in my life, would leave. So I was doing it first.

It was killing me, physically hurting me as I unlocked my car. My body wanted Chase. My heart was basically beating for him and him alone now, and even my brain was screaming all the reasons why I should stay. The main reason my brain was yelling was Chase could be different.

He mightn't leave me.

He mightn't abuse me.

He might love me back.

Or he could pull out my heart, stomp on it, and then when he finished doing that, he could physically start using me as a punching bag.

But this was Chase we were talking about. Not once has he hurt me, but one thing that had always sat unwell with me was when he was mad with me, when he got it in his head I was testifying against Jess, not for her.

He said that he wished Joe had hit me harder so I wouldn't have left that night and he wouldn't have come across me.

If he could think that then say it to me, it only confirmed one thing. Chase could hurt me.

I opened the car door after spending way too long debating.

I had it open and was getting in when two arms wrapped around me and pulled me away from it.

"I'm not letting you run." Marc dragged me out of the car.

"LET GO OF ME!"

"No."

"You don't understand. I have to go!"

"Running isn't the answer." Marc dragged me back into the house.

I was kicking. I was yelling. I was doing everything physically possible to get out of his grasp, but that wasn't working.

"Marc, let go of ME! I am an adult and if I want to go, you can't stop me!"

"Yeah, cause an adult really runs from problems," he scoffed.

We were up the stairs and before I could say another word, Marc pushed me into Chase and my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

I had never been this furious before.

I wasn't just furious at Marc, I was furious at myself! I had let myself get into this situation. ME!

I had somehow let Chase get the rest of my heart!

I pulled on the door handle, but it wouldn't move. I didn't know if Marc was holding it closed, but then I heard a click.

How the hell could he lock me in here? Why on earth would Chase have a lock on the other side of the door?

It hit me hard and cold.

Unless he had been planning on locking me in here.

My worst memories revolved around being locked in a bedroom. Panic gripped me hard and fast, and I had to get out of here.

I started banging on the door, pulling at the handle, screaming to Marc, but all that didn't work.

The abuse always came after being locked in the bedroom. My entire childhood, I was locked in a room. I pulled on the door with more aggression.

Panic was flooding me, but what was worse was the memories; the ones of dying to go to the toilet but not being able to because I was locked in the room.

The times they would forget to let me out. The times I would starve. The times Joe would come back for round two.

I remember my eyes being swollen shut so tight I couldn't even make out figures.

All these memories were flooding me as I was faced with being locked in a room again.

Chase was meant to be different, but how the hell was this different compared to what did happen to me? Me being forced to be in a locked room, doing what I was told, having no freedom.

I banged on the door again, yelling, screaming for Marc to let me out. I was basically begging at this point now. The tears were running down my cheeks, streaming down hard and fast.

If there was a God, I prayed to please let me out.

I can't be here.

I can't face my childhood.

But when the door didn't open, when Marc didn't unlock it at my pleas or screaming, I was being forced to face my worst memories.

***

I don't know how much time passed. My knuckles were red raw from the banging. Basically bleeding. The memories had flooded me, resurfacing over and over. I had been suffocated by them to the point I couldn't move.

I was so stuck in the past I didn't hear the door open.

I didn't even realize someone else was in the room until the lights flicked on.

"Geez Chloe, are you okay?" Chase's face was painted with concern as he basically ran for me.

But I didn't care about his concern. I saw the open door. I bolted, pushing past him, running down the hallway. Not stopping when he was calling after me. I just kept running. Down the stairs. Seeing the front door.

"Hey Chloe, are you going to cook… ”Oliver’s words were cut off when I ran out the front door.

Air. Fresh air.

I inhaled as much as I could.

I was out.

I was free.

"CHLOE, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

I was too busy trying to get fresh air to listen to him. Wasn't until his hands landed on my shoulders and he forced me to face him that anger flooded through me.

"Get your hands off me!" I shoved his hands off my shoulders. "YOU and ALL your family. JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

Chase's eyes narrowed. "What the hell did Marc do to you?"

His question was falling on deaf ears, because I wasn't acting like this because Marc kissed me. I was acting like this because of what Chase could do to me.

But how the hell was I going to explain that? Screw it. I don't have to.