“News?” he asks.
“She’s out of surgery, did well, staying a few days, then home. Expected to make a full recovery.”
Lucero tilts his head. “Then why do you look like you just lost your best friend?”
The cliché hurts. “I might have.”
“Chloe flew out of here. I’m used to seeing you draw women, not repel them.”
I rub my face with both hands. “Fuck.”
Lucero makes a sound in his throat. “I think you’re about to get your ass handed to you by a different woman.”
Confused, I look up and find KT standing in front of me. I’ve never been afraid of a woman, but KT is fucking formidable.
“Drop that duty belt so I can kick your ass.”
“That’s a cue for me to head out.” Lucero pushes to his feet and faces KT. “KT.”
“Carl,” she returns the greeting.
Lucero glances over his shoulder at me before leaving. “Might want to take this outside. Just a suggestion.”
“I agree,” KT tells me.
I sigh. “Why are you mad at me?”
“How can you even ask?”
Well, shit. My family, who isn’t really my family, has all but disintegrated, and now my circle of friends, one of the only places I’ve felt like I might actually belong, is threatening to eject me.
“I’m exhausted,” I tell KT. “If you want to kick my ass, just do it. Otherwise, sit down so we can talk.”
“Fucking coward,” she mutters. But instead of sitting down, she paces back and forth in front of me. “How could you blame Chloe for what happened to Piper? She cares more about that kid than her own mother does. She’s open and loving and gi
ves Piper a place to vent. If you want to blame someone for Piper slipping through the cracks, look in the mirror.
“You’re so fucking rigid, Piper can’t talk to you about the really important shit, and her mother is worthless. Chloe made Piper feel special. Chloe listened and guided. Chloe accepted and supported. So, let’s see,” KT says, gesturing with her hands. “A warm, loving woman, or a critical, rigid godfather? Understanding or judgment? Options or limitations?” She tosses her hands in the air. “If you were a fifteen-year-old girl, which would you choose? Piper did what any kid would do—she hid things from people who judged her and found a place where she’d be accepted. Nothing about that is Chloe’s fault.”
Someone comes up to us, and I glance that direction. It’s Ben, wearing blue scrubs under a white lab jacket. “Whoa, whoa,” he says to KT as if he’s trying to calm a spooked horse. “Take it down a notch, Tiger.” He slides his arm around KT’s shoulders, and I expect her to push him away, but she turns into him and lets him hold her as she mutters, “Asshole.”
Ben makes a face and shakes his head at me as if to say, She doesn’t mean it.
“You’ve made your point,” Ben says, voice soothing. “He almost lost his goddaughter, babe. He’s entitled to a little crazy talk. Let him take a breath.”
“I have to pick up the girls from your sister anyway.” She levels that angry gaze on me again. “Leave Chloe the hell alone. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Ben walks KT out the main entrance, and I’m alone again. At this time of night, the hospital lobby is empty and the quiet closes in around me. I drop my head into my hands and exhale all the air from my lungs. “Fuck. Me.”
19
Chloe
It’s another stunning night lakeside. I’m trying to get some words in on my book before my evening yoga class, but I haven’t been able to find one word of inspiration or instruction or even hope for my readers since I walked away from Xavier four days ago. This is the last evening of the conference before life returns to normal—thankfully, I won’t have Bodhi in my face anymore, but unfortunately, I won’t have Xavier either. Only this time, I won’t even have him as a friend.
I look over the screen of my laptop and soak in the pink-and-coral sky, slowly darkening. Another day gone. Another day alone. I haven’t figured out what this experience was supposed to teach me. There are so many possibilities—exposure of my trust issues, the consequences of holding information back, ruling Xavier out as boyfriend material once and for all. Every time I try to figure it out, my mind spins and spins but doesn’t gain traction. I probably can’t see it because I’m not ready to let go of the anger. Anger is judgment. Judgment is ego. But I’m sure as soon as I let go of the resentment, the tears will come, and I’m terrified they’ll never stop.
My phone pings with a message. I don’t look because I’m pretty damn sure it’s from Xavier. He’s been calling and texting and coming by since that night in the hospital, but I’m no more ready to talk to him now than I am ready to let go of my anger and hurt. It’s a simmering cauldron of poison I know I have to dump, but it’s still too hot to touch.