Chapter 8

Chloe's Point of View

I woke up to find Chase gone. The bed next to me was empty. I shouldn't have been surprised. He most likely left as soon as I fell asleep. Disappointment rumbled through me as I got dressed. It was after ten in the morning, and I wondered briefly if he cared at all about me. Sometimes, just for a moment I think he does, and then he does something that makes me think otherwise.

Like the age gap between us. It bothered him and I knew that. I was a stupid young teenager who had somehow got him roped into my life. He must regret ever going for that run.

I walked up the hall and noticed his bedroom - and the made bed.

Knowing Chase, he would have been up for ages. I walked out of the hall into the open living room when I saw the last person I expected to see.

"Jess?"

She put down her coffee and smiled at me. "Hey, Chloe."

"What are you doing here?" Why would Chase not be here while his sister was? I noticed that she had a gun next to her on the couch as well.

"Chase had to take care of something for me." She flicked the channels on the TV. "Sorry to take him away from you."

How long had Chase been gone for? "Don't be silly. Sisters come first." I went into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Nothing beats fresh coffee. "So, how long have you been here for?" I wanted to know if Chase had left me to help her or if he was asleep in his room when she came, but I couldn't ask her that outright, could I?

"Early this morning. I hope I didn't wake you." She frowned. "Chase was extra careful not to."

So, Chase had slept with me. My feelings started to twist and bend about him. A wave of happiness ran through me knowing he had stayed. That was until his sister got him up.

"He should be back soon," she added.

I nodded my head. I was about to say something when the front door burst open and in came what looked like a scene from a horror movie.

Chase was covered in blood, and when I say covered, I mean his white t-shirt was bright red. Blood was sprayed across his face, and the patches on his leather vest even had blood on them. Now, how did I know it was blood? One look and you would know.

His brothers were just as bad. Some had it on their faces; others had it on their bodies. It looked like something you would see in Dexter.

"What the hell happened?" Jess dropped her cup of coffee. "Why the hell are you all covered in blood?"

I was just standing by the sink. Frozen. Watching it all unfold.

"Did you kill him?" Jess yelled at her brothers. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Fucking little shit was asking for you, Jess. Now stop yelling at us," Marc yelled back at her. He was wiping the side of his face, and then wiping the blood on his leather pants.

"Oh my God." Jess started to freak out. "He's dead. You all killed him, and now everyone will think I did it."

"We aren't stupid, you know. We made it out like he killed himself." Declan walked around Chase to his sister. "We didn't have a choice. When we got there, he started shooting. We only fought back."

"Then, if it was just bullets, why is there so much blood?" Jess exclaimed and pushed Declan's hands away as he attempted to comfort her.

"That would be Oliver’s fault." Declan threw a glare over his shoulder at his youngest brother.

"It was a good idea." Oliver fired back while leaning against the front door.

"You took to his body with a chainsaw! Where you got that bloody thing from, I don't know." Declan looked at him with anger. "Because you were really thinking ahead."

"So it looks like he cut off his arm before he killed himself." Oliver shrugged his shoulders. "It could happen."

"On a scale of one to ten of it happening, it’s most likely a two," Marc snapped.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." Jess struggled to fully understand what they were saying.

So, if I was hearing this right, Chase and his brothers just went out and killed someone. I should be terrified; I should be running. Instead, my brain was clicking over.

I bent down and opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the bleach while they all continued to argue out the details of the murder. Chase was in between Declan and Oliver, stopping them from fighting, when I looked back up.

"Okay, you all need to strip." I said.

And then every pair of eyes was on me. I had gone unnoticed in the kitchen. I could have snuck away and nobody would have known but once you hear something, you can't un-hear it.

"Now," I added.

Chase's eyes were painted in shock as he looked at me, but right now I needed him to be focused.

"You all have blood on your clothes, which is evidence. So strip."

I knew that these six men weren't used to taking orders. Chase's brothers would follow his orders, but orders coming from a girl - very low chance so I was half-shocked when they started to peel their clothes off.

I went to the laundry room and grabbed two baskets.

Walking back out, my eyes widened. They were beautiful. Each one of them. All built, slim and tanned, but my McKenzie brother was extra good-looking. Wait, what was I thinking, my McKenzie brother? Chase wasn't mine.

I snapped back to it and walked towards them.

"Leathers in this one, and shirts in the other."

"Why?" Oliver asked.

"Because I'm assuming you want to keep your leathers while the bloody t-shirts can be burnt. Who fired their gun and killed him?"

All the eyes went to Chase. Chase ripped off his shirt and threw it in the basket, then pulled a gun out of the holster and handed it to me.

"I'll take care of this." I took it from him.

"How do you know what to do?" Declan asked me.

"Because I grew up with a cop. I know what they will be looking for, like matching the bullet from this gun to the gunshot wound in his head."

"We made sure his gun was the same so it should look like he took his own life." Marc handed me his leather vest. "Try and get the blood off the one percentage patch. It's the only one I care about."

"I'll do my best."

So, the boys were all in their boxers when I picked up the basket that needed washing.

"Can you boys burn them?" I asked.

Oliver stepped forward, picking it up. "I'll do it." He walked to the wood fire.

I turned and went to the laundry. Again, I was asking myself why I wasn't freaking out. I should be freaking out. I was still thinking that when I started to scrub the leather vests before putting them in the washing machine.

***

I was putting the last load in the washing machine when a hand went on my shoulder. Jumping, I pushed it off and immediately went and protected my face.

"Chloe, it's just me."

I opened my eyes, lowering my hand. Chase was standing there. He was now dressed and freshly showered. My heart rate slowly went back to a normal pace and the panic on my face disappeared.

Then I took a sharp breath in.

I should be looking at him differently. I shouldn't be admiring how good he looked in that t-shirt or how his muscles bulged. I shouldn't be loving the fact that his green eyes were shining with thankfulness and worry at the same time.

"You okay?" he finally said, not taking a step closer to me but standing in the doorway.

"Fine."

"So, you know what happened." The dread behind his words were so clear. If I hadn't been in the room, I was positive he wouldn't have told me.

"I have been scrubbing blood out for over an hour." I had my sleeves rolled up and blood up my arms. I needed a shower.

"Do you want to run?" His eyes were focused on me.

"Run where?"

"Away from me."

I should be wanting to run. Why wasn't I terrified? I tilted my head to the side, meeting his blazing eyes.

"No. I should, but I don't want to." I sighed and then looked down. "Things are never black and white."

"Still, I shouldn't be getting you involved in stuff like this. I hoped you would still be asleep."

"Well I wasn't, and now I have a stained shirt to prove it."

"Chloe, I'm sorry."

"Chase, you don't have to apologize to me. I got myself involved. I'm sure in the future you will be more careful with what you share with me." I knew it too. I knew that there were slim chances that I would ever be seeing his life up close and personal again. He will do anything to protect me from it.

He nodded his head. "So you probably want a shower, yeah?" He changed the subject.

"Yeah, I should have one. Are your brothers still here?"

"No. Jess is upset, so I sent her to Mom’s."

"She'd be feeling bad."

"She didn't pull the trigger." Chase's words were sobering. "That was all me."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet. Chase crossed his arms, and it was clear on his face he was having a debate. He was regretting ever getting me involved, I bet. I stood awkwardly against the washing machine and watched him, waiting for when he had finished his debate.

Finally, his eyes landed on mine.

"Come here." He opened his arms for me.

I nervously took a few seconds overthinking it before I took the couple of steps and was between his arms.

He gently grabbed the hem of my shirt and lifted it up. I could have stopped him if I wanted to. I knew I could have, but I didn't.

He peeled the wet sleeves from my arms and then the shirt was off. I shook my hair and then ran a hand through it. It was naturally straight, and I admit I never did much more than wash it. Chase was staring at me like I was something special. The look in his eyes was stunning me to the spot.

His hands ran down my sides and stilled on my hips, pulling me slightly in. He dipped his head and I watched his eyes flicker to my lips. He wanted to kiss me, and I had never wanted anything as bad as him. Was it wrong hoping he would give in?

But he didn't.

"You should go have a shower." His eyes were still on my lips. I took a deep breath in, waiting and hoping. His hand moved from my hip to cup my cheek. His thumb went across my bottom lip, then his eyes ran down my body, stilling on my arms. "You better go shower."

I looked down at the dried-up blood. Yeah, I should. "Okay."

Chase moved out of the doorway and let go of me. Immediately, I wanted his hands back on me but that wasn't going to happen because I saw the look in Chase's eyes. He was back to regretting it again.

I walked up the hall and headed for the bedroom. I looked at the dried blood on my arms. I should be regretting what I did but I didn't. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Who was I kidding? There has always been something wrong with me. Wasn't that why I always got hit?

***

I walked out of the bedroom to the smell of food. My stomach rumbled as I followed the smell. Chase had cooked a hot meal for lunch. I never thought he was a cook, but looks like this proved me wrong.

"That smells amazing." I said, walking into the kitchen.

He looked up from the hot plates. "Thought you deserved a hot meal."

"Why? I haven't done anything." I leaned on the kitchen island.

He gave me a pointed look.

Right. That.

"Well thanks," I said. He was trying to do something nice, and I shouldn't make a big deal out of it even though he didn't have to. I was more than happy to do what I did. After all, all I did was wash some clothes.

He placed the food on the table and he even pulled the chair out for me. I couldn't help but think that while his exterior said rough, mean, and I'll kill you with pleasure, inside he was gentle, warm and caring, right down to the little things. I wondered if he had had many girlfriends. Maybe this was something he did for all of them? Then again, I wasn't a girlfriend, was I?

"So, this is where I'm hoping you're a meat eater." Chase said, placing a piece of steak on my plate.

"Always." I smiled at him.

He dished my plate up with veggies. It smelled amazing. We were eating when he cleared his voice.

"So, want to explain why you thought I was going to attack you today?" Chase asked.

I knew what he was talking about. The laundry scene when I panicked. It was out of habit and it wasn't anything against him. Maybe I should tell him that? I calmed down when I realized it was him.

"It's out of habit. Sorry. It's nothing against you. Just not used to people touching me and well, not..." My words dried up. "I guess abusing me." I finished the sentence. "Don't take it personally."

"I'd never hit you." His words were strong, and he held my gaze as he said it.

"I know that."

"You shouldn't be scared of people touching you."

"I don't like it." I squirmed on the seat and stabbed a carrot. "I guess I'm insecure."

Chase went quiet, looking at me. Finally, he said. "We will work on it."

I nodded my head, but I knew I would never not fear the touch of a man. Joe had ruined that for me. The trust you were meant to have wasn't there. I wasn't brought up in a loving environment. I guess when it came down to it, I didn't know what love was.

We ate the rest of lunch in silence. I wanted to ask him when we would leave, but I knew he had a lot of other things on his mind and he didn't need me asking questions.

The whole time we ate lunch, I kept catching Chase staring at me with this look on his face I couldn't explain. I guess when it came down to men, I didn't know anything.

If my real father could see how his little girl grew up, he wouldn't be proud and, in that moment, I doubted if I would ever be proud of myself, either.

Chase's Point of View

The day had disappeared. Chloe was quiet for the rest of the afternoon, and I had to wonder if she was regretting doing what she did. She knew now what I really was. She had seen the other side to my life. If anything, she had seen it at its worst. Yet, she hadn't run.

She was asleep on the couch with her legs tucked up. I was meant to be watching the TV, but my eyes kept being drawn back to her.

She was too sweet for me.

She was too young for me.

She was too good for the likes of me.

I swallowed back the whiskey. I was drinking like a fish tonight. Every life I took stained me. Left a mark. I didn't like doing it, but it always seemed to end up being my job.

The front door burst open, no knocking, and no slightly peeking in. No, it burst open and in strolled Sammie.

"Good, you're awake. Now." She clapped her hands together. "We are going out."

"Chloe's asleep, shut the fuck up." I glared at her and put my whiskey glass down. "We aren't going anywhere."

"Oh come on, Chase. We have to." Sammie begged at me, flashing her eyelashes. "Jess is so upset. She needs to be let loose on the town. Come on, an all-nighter is just what the doctor ordered. I've already got all the other boys ready." Her evil grin spread.

So, I was the last one, and she probably left me last because she knew I'd be the hardest to convince.

"No. Chloe is asleep."

"No, I'm not." Chloe yawned from the couch. "Hey Sammie." She smiled but still looked half asleep.

Great, Sammie had woken her up. I shot a glare at my sister, who was already jumping and clapping.

"Good, so you coming, Chloe?" She asked.

"No, she's not," I answered for her.

"Coming to what?" Chloe asked.

"We are all hitting the town." Sammie's grin was infectious, and it seemed to have Chloe grinning too.

"I didn't know there was a night life is Cardigan," she said.

"There's not," I scoffed.

"No, there's not. Chase is right. That's why we drive about half an hour to a town called Skipton. They have some epic clubs." Sammie closed the front door. "So, what are you waiting for? I'll help you get dressed."

Chloe looked at me, and I think I was giving her the same look. All I wanted was to spend time with her, not in a packed club with every male wanting to be all over her.

Great.

Sammie grabbed Chloe's hand and pulled her off the couch. It occurred to me now that Sammie was already dressed and ready to go.

Chloe was dragged down the hallway.

"We better pack your ID too." Sammie said before I heard the bedroom door close.

Groaning, I ran a hand through my hair. Bloody sisters. I guess I better get changed.

***

I had lost count of how many drinks I had poured myself. Declan was going over how he invited some local girl to join us - again. If there was one thing Declan loved, it was dragging females along. He would hold their interest but keep them at a distance until we left town.

I was half listening to him when Sammie walked down the hall into the lounge room. If she was here, where was…

My question was answered. I swallowed sharply. How the hell was I going to be able to keep my hands off her tonight? Chloe was dressed in a tight red dress, which showed every curve. Her bruise was covered by makeup and her hair was down, stopping below her breasts.

She was stunning and my brothers were noticing.

"So let’s go." Sammie grabbed Chloe by the hand. "Who's driving?"

"Taking taxis," Marc answered. "Seeing as not one of us wants to remain sober."

My eyes were glued on Chloe and she had noticed.

Oliver opened the front door, and everyone started to flow out to the waiting taxis. Chloe brushed past me, dragged along by Sammie.

Tonight was going to kill me. How was I meant to not touch her? More importantly, how was I going to keep everyone else from touching her?

"You coming, Chase?" Jess asked, holding the door open.

"Yeah, I'm coming." To my own personal hell.