Page 4 of Journey To Sunrise (Protectors of Jasper Creek #6)

Chapter Two

Zarek

I got out of my truck and followed Zoe up to the doorstep of the modest sized rambler house. I was happy to see that it sat back from the street—it would make things easier.

“When did you two stop living together?” I asked.

“She rented the place when she left Trenda’s. She said she needed space. We shouldn’t have let her go.”

I looked at Zoe and could see waves of guilt flowing off her.

“Chloe’s a grown woman, you couldn’t have stopped her.”

“She wasn’t thinking straight. It was my job to take care of her.”

“Do you have a key to the house?”

“She changed the locks after Trenda and I let ourselves in to check on her three weeks ago.”

“Shit.” I gave my childhood friend a considering look. “You should go sit in your car. I think it would be best if this was just between Chloe and me.”

“But…” I watched as Zoe’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe you’re right. Please help her.” Zoe’s voice was soft.

“I will, sweetie. I promise.” I watched as she walked slowly down the path towards her car, then I turned toward the door and knocked loudly.

“Chloe! It’s me, Zarek. Open up!” I put my ear to the door but didn’t hear anything. There was a small decorative window beside the door. I hated those damn things. They were a burglar’s wet dream.

I pounded on the door again. “Chloe Rose Avery, answer the damned door!” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. I didn’t hear it ringing from inside. It went straight to voicemail.

“Dammit, Chloe, you better answer your damned door, or I’ll break it down.” Logically, I knew she wasn’t listening, but still…

I counted to sixty. She might be in the shower.

She might be in the bathtub. But she might be in real trouble, and I wasn’t waiting another fucking minute.

I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off.

Then I folded it up into layers, pressed it up against the small window, and slammed my fist through it.

I pushed out the broken glass with my shirt, reached in, unlocked the door, and opened it.

As soon as I stepped into the house, I announced myself.

“Chloe, don’t freak. It’s me, Zarek. I just broke into your house.”

I paused.

Nothing.

“I come in peace.” I stood there in the front hall, waiting for some kind of verbal response.

Still nothing.

My heart clenched.

“Chloe!Answer me!”

I was met with silence.

No fire that I’d ever covered had been worse than this moment.

Please God, let her be okay.

My training kicked in, and I moved forward, my eyes checking every nook and cranny as I headed into the main area of the house.

I saw an open area connecting the living room, kitchen, and dining room.

The dining room table was overflowing with envelopes that I soon realized was unopened mail.

The kitchen looked like a frat party kegger had taken place, with all the red plastic Solo cups littered about.

“Chloe!” I roared.

That was when I saw them—bloody footprints marring the creamy beige tiles in the kitchen. I sped up. The footprints were more pronounced on the carpet down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

I slammed open the first bedroom door. It was being used as an office, and it was empty except for the plates and cups strewn about the desk.

I backed out.

“Answer me, Chloe Rose!”

I pushed open the next door and winced when I saw the smashed mirror and broken glass on the floor of the bathroom.

There was a lot of blood on the floor, and it hopefully explained where the bloody footprints originated.

I stepped in farther and looked in the bathtub. No Chloe. I let out a sigh of relief.

I came to the last door. It was ajar and I pushed it open.

At first, I didn’t think there was anything in the bed.

The sheets and blankets were tangled and I didn’t notice her slight form amongst the covers.

Then I saw strands of her chocolate-brown hair peeking above the white sheet and resting on one of the pillows, but still no face.

I rushed into the room and stood over the bed. She was literally under the covers. Was she hiding?

“Chloe?” I kept my voice to a medium roar. My level of worry wouldn’t allow me to be any softer.

The blankets jerked.

Then nothing.

The fear that had been clawing at me calmed a little, and I was finally able to take in a full breath. I yanked the covers back from her head. Owlish brown eyes blinked up at me, there was no focus, no response.

“Chloe?”

Her eyes shifted and I could now tell she was looking at me. Frown lines formed between her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, then she shut it.

“Say something,” I demanded.

“Am I dreaming?” Her voice sounded like she’d been gargling with gravel.

“No dream.” I studied her face. She looked like she’d been sick for a long time. She was pale and gaunt. Her lips were chapped, and her hair was a tangled mess.

“Zarek? It’s really you?” She tried to push her hand out from underneath the covers. I helped her get free. When she did, she reached up to touch my face. I cupped her palm to my cheek.

“It’s me, Cupcake. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Her eyes looked away from mine. She stared at the ceiling and asked, “How’d you get in?”

“I broke in.”

“You did what?”

That got her attention , I thought with satisfaction. She pushed at the sheet and blanket, struggling to sit up. I immediately bent down and put my arm around her, helping her into a sitting position. I picked up the two pillows on the floor and put them behind her back.

“There, is that better?” I asked.

She nodded her head.

“Did Trenda and Zoe help you break in?”

“Zoe’s outside. I told her to wait. This is between the two of us.”

Her eyes searched mine. “What do you mean by that? You’re just here because my sisters called you and they’re just being them.”

Anger roared up and out.

“That’s bullshit! As soon as I found out what was going on, I dropped everything and broke land speed records to get here.

What the fuck, Chloe? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for months.

We always talk. We’ve been talking for years.

I thought we were friends. Good friends.

When you stopped taking my calls, it hurt, and I finally got through to Zoe.

She told me what was going on, but you should have been the one who told me. ”

She winced, her brown eyes growing darker, and looking even more wounded, but I didn’t let that bother me. She needed to get it through her thick skull that I cared, and what she’d done had scared me. She needed to understand that I was pissed and more than a little hurt.

“Zarek, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.

” I could tell she was trying to sound like her old self, but even that one sentence left her breathless.

She was a wreck. There were still the bloody footprints to contend with.

I yanked off the thick blanket covering her.

What was up with that? It was the middle of summer and the AC wasn’t running.

What was she doing under thick blankets?

“What are you doing?” She tried to take back the covers from me, but it was no use.

My eyes zeroed in on her blood-caked foot. “What have you done to yourself? What happened to the mirror in the guest bathroom, Chloe?” I asked as I gently lifted her leg up so he could inspect her foot.

“Let go of me.”

“Not going to happen.” I wanted to howl as I saw that dirt and carpet threads mixed in with the blood.

“Jesus, Chloe, look at this mess! Where’s your first aid kit?”

“What?”

I looked up into her face. What focus she’d had as she tried to fight me for the blanket was pretty much wiped out.

“Your.First.Aid.Kit.Where is it?”

“Why do you need that?”

“Look at your foot, Chloe. You cut it. There’s blood all over your floor and on your sheets.” That got her attention. She looked at her foot in my big hand, as if she were noticing it for the first time. “Didn’t you even realize you were cut?” I asked in amazement.

“I cut it earlier. I stepped on some glass.”

“Your mirror. Do you know when you broke your mirror? Do you know when you cut your foot?”

“I can’t remember. Do you think it was yesterday?” she asked me.

“Honey, I wouldn’t know.” She was clearly out of it.

“It’s not that big of a deal. It doesn’t hurt now,” she said softly.

“It will when I clean it up. Is your first aid kit in the master bathroom?”

She nodded her head.

I gently set her foot down on the bed and went to the bathroom to get the kit.

At least the mirror in this bathroom was intact, but it was a mess in here, too.

I needed to get her the hell out of this house.

But first I needed to see if she needed stitches.

I wet a washcloth and grabbed the small case with all of the first aid supplies.

I went back into the bedroom. Chloe was sitting up in bed.

She had more color in her cheeks, and she was beginning to look ticked off.

Good.

“You don’t need to be here.”

I sat down on the bed and propped her foot on my lap. She hissed in pain.

“Thought it didn’t hurt,” I taunted.

“It’s your rotten bedside manner.”

As gently as I could, I washed away the caked blood. “I don’t see any glass.”

“I’m not an idiot,” she said as she tried to pull her foot out of my grasp. “I took it out.” I held on and looked closer and pressed. She gasped.

“Cupcake, you still have something in there.” I took the tweezers out of the kit and carefully extracted a small shard of glass from her foot. When I looked up, I saw her biting her lip and I swore. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t. I did this to myself.” She slumped back against the pillows.

I sighed.She was right.