Breaking the Cycle (9 page)

Chloe didn’t come out of her room until it was time for work the next day. Max hated it. She was already too thin to be missing meals. As they drove to Hard Drive, she kept her eyes trained to her hands, refusing to look at him. He had no idea how she was actually going to do any work that day.

As the gym grew busier, Max snuck out, jumping into his car. He flipped on hard rock as he flew down the highway toward downtown Minneapolis. He said nothing to Chloe when he left. He knew she would protest his plan.
It doesn’t change anything. I’m going to take care of her. And her mom.

He could hardly contain his excitement as the day wore on. He nearly spilled it in the car on the way home. Once there, he grabbed Chloe’s hand as they sprinted up the ramp and into the house. Liz was fit to be tied when they stepped inside. She had the portable phone fisted in one hand and the cursed hospital bill in the other.

“Those idiots at the billing department can’t get anything right!” she screamed.

“What happen now?” Chloe asked.

“I called to set up payments. When they gave me the balance in their computer systems, it didn’t match the statement they sent. They put some poor sucker’s payment against my bill! Not that I mind. It was ten thousand dollars. Still, someone sure as hell doesn’t want to be in the position I am. Anyway, I told them to find who the money belonged to, and they said they can’t. I don’t want to live with that on my conscience.”

Chloe stared at her mother as worry creased her forehead. Max glanced from mother to daughter. He couldn’t stand to see them panic over the chance this hurt someone else.
It’s reasons like this that I love them so much.

He cleared his throat. “There’s no mistake. They didn’t misapply the payment. It was me.”

“You?” Liz demanded incredulously.

“Yeah. I went to the bank this afternoon then the hospital. This way, you can continue your therapy.”

“But Max,” Chloe breathed. “Ten thousand dollars? Where did you get it?”

Max swallowed hard. “I closed my savings account.”

“Your savings account?” Liz’s voice grew to a shriek. “As money toward a new car? Or a down payment on a house when you start your real life?”

“Real life?” Max questioned. “This is my real life.”

Liz shook her head. “Max, I know how you feel about Chloe. But someday you’re going to want a real woman. One you don’t have to take care of all the time. One who can be your companion, not your charity case. You may not think that now but after doing this for ten or fifteen years you will. And you just shot every dime you saved to start that life on a hopeless situation.”

“I was trying to help,” Max growled.

“It didn’t.”

Max glared at Liz and Chloe. Without a word, he spun on his toe and slammed out the front door. He stormed to his Mustang, threw it into drive, and floored it, racing as far away from that house as he could get.

Max flew through the streets without a plan, his mind not focused on anything but Liz’s words. His temper peaked to a raging inferno. It didn’t take long for him to be sick of driving. He wanted to get out. He wanted to hit something.

An evil grin spread across his face as he slid into park. There was no better place for him to be. Instinctively, he had driven to Hard Drive.

He stared at the dark windows of the empty gym as he climbed out of the car and strode to the trunk. Popping open the lid, he reached inside for the neglected, blue duffle that had slid into the far corner. Then, he slammed the trunk closed, each step to the building hard with purpose.

Max unlocked the door. The motion-detecting lights popped on in greeting. He grinned as he focused on his goal. Four punching bags hung in the corner waiting for him. He pried off his tennis shoes and unzipped the duffle, pulling free a pair of red and black gloves. They weren’t as thick as boxing gloves. These were designed to inflict far more damage on an opponent.

Max tugged each glove on his hands, securing the Velcro closure with his teeth. He took a moment to let the feel of them sink in. His blood ran lava hot in his veins. His heart pounded in his chest. His blue eyes turned to ice as he focused on one of the bags. Crossing the gym, he lowered himself into an attack stance.

He punched, the force in his fist doubling the bag. He moaned. He had forgotten just how good this felt. He was a recovering addict getting a taste of his favorite vice. And he needed more. Much, much more.

He jabbed again. He hated Liz for every word she had said. He crossed, the bag resonating with the impact. He hated the hell Chloe was going through. He half stepped, his leg lightning as it struck the vinyl. He hated himself for thinking the very thoughts Liz had said as he waited for the banker to close his account. His hate flowed through him with every punch and kick.

“Holy hell.”

Max spun around. Rico stood behind him. His eyes were wide in awe, his own duffle bag hanging by his fingertips at his side.

“Rico,” Max scrambled. “What are you doing here? The gym is closed.”

“Jack gave me a key. And I could ask you the same question.”

Max slowly exhaled. “Releasing frustration. Not a great night. Liz is going to lose her house.”

Rico chuckled. “I take it I need to get a new place. Or are four of us going to squeeze into the apartment?”

Max half laughed. “I don’t know.”

Rico cocked his head as he examined Max. “So, how long have you been fighting?”

“I don’t fight.”

“Try again.”

Max stared at him then sighed. “I fought in college. I was going to be the next big thing in MMA. I had agents pounding down my dorm door and harassing my parents. Then, I got hurt. I gave it up.”

Rico shook his head. “Tough break.” He paused. “You want to spar?”

“Me? Fight you? I’ll get my butt kicked.”

“You look like you could be the closest thing I’ve had to a challenge in a long time. And I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“Especially Chloe. I’m having a hard enough time holding onto her. I don’t need to terrify her with my past.”

“No worries. Lips sealed.”

Max punched the bag once more for good measure while Rico kicked his flip-flops off and slipped on his own gloves. He strode to the mat while egging Rico, beckoning to him with a gloved hand. Rico laughed as he joined him in the circle.

Max shed the rust quickly in a flurry of punches and kicks. He was right. He landed on the mat more times than he could count. But it was exhilarating when Rico stared up at him from the flat of his back, rubbing the stubble of his jaw to loosen the impact of a nasty hook. Rico stood, grumbling “rookie’s luck.”

A few moments later, Rico was kissing the mat again. Max laughed triumphantly as he helped Rico to his feet.

“Water break,” Rico gasped.

“If you say so. I can go some more,” Max taunted. Rico snickered as he reached in his bag for his water bottle. Max popped the cap on his own as he woke up his cell phone. His face turned to stone. Twenty missed calls. All from Liz. Max tapped the last missed call and listened as it rang. He was greeted with a sob.

Max frowned. “Liz?”

There was another sob. “Max. Chloe…started in again…just after…you left. She’s…upstairs. I…can’t get…to her.”

“I’m on my way home. Just calm down. I’ll be there in a minute.” He hung up, not bothering to take off his gloves. He turned to his sparring partner. “Rico…”

Rico’s voice was grave. “Get home to your family, Max.”

Max ran to his car, throwing his bag and shoes in the front seat. He broke one speed limit after another as he raced home. He sprinted into the house, not bothering with the ramp, but taking the slightly exposed steps two at a time.

Liz’s body was shaking as she huddled in her wheelchair. “I heard her vomit then she choked and wheezed. I haven’t heard anything else. Max, I think she aspirated…”

Max didn’t wait to hear more. He leapt up the stairs as his heart slammed in his chest.
Lord, please no…

He found his worst nightmare lying on the bathroom floor. Chloe was unconscious, slumped on the fluid-covered tile. Her chest didn’t rise and fall. Her perfect lips were tinged blue.

“Chloe!” Max fell to the floor as he scooped her into his arms. He couldn’t breathe himself. He whacked her across the back in panic. She lay limp against him. He smacked her again, cringing at the hollow sound of his hand hard against her back. She coughed violently. Her breath escaped in thready gasps.

Max felt his own throat constrict as tears burned his eyes. “Liz!” he shouted. “Call 9-1-1!”

“I did, Max! They’re on their way!”

He held Chloe tight against him, feeling for every shallow lungful. His nerves quaked in terror. Everything he had ever wanted in his life, almost gone forever.
And it’s my fault. I did this.

Max looked up as the paramedics swarmed the bathroom. His eyes pleaded with them for help as they took Chloe from his arms. He kneeled in the cold vomit long after they had disappeared with her down the stairs. Slowly, he rose and stiffly walked to his room. He peeled the soiled pants and T-shirt from his chiseled body then tugged on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt.

Without a word, he wheeled Liz to his car and helped her inside. A quick glance at his cell phone confirmed what he had hoped. Chloe was now in Mark’s care. He slumped into the driver’s seat as a knot grew in his stomach.

The hospital emergency room was eerily quiet. Max hunched over his knees, his elbows digging into his thighs as he rested his forehead against his folded palms. Liz sat beside him in her wheelchair. She stared at the wall ahead of her, her complexion nearly as white as her cotton shirt. He clenched his eyes as he felt every nerve in his body shake.

He didn’t look up as Liz spoke. Her voice cracked with each word. “I’m going to call and schedule my therapy tomorrow. I need out of this chair.”

Max bristled. He wanted to lash out at her.
Had she just recognized what I did and not condemned it, we wouldn’t be here.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He bit his tongue. Literally. He didn’t need to crucify her for what she had said. She was crucifying herself.
Just like I’m doing right now.

“Max. Liz.”

Max instinctively rose to his feet. His thundering heart rushed the blood through his veins, creating a whoosh in his ears. He swallowed hard then forced a half smile at Mark. He had never seen the big man dressed for work before. Max was surprised they made a medical coat that fit Mark’s frame. The thigh length coat covered a blue, button-down dress shirt and khaki pants.

Max fought to find his voice. “Mark…”

“We have Chloe on oxygen. She’s going to have to stay a few days. She’ll probably develop pneumonia. However, I talked to Chad. Since she’s going to be here, we’re going to run those tests he wants. Hopefully, Chloe will leave with a diagnosis and treatment. These things,” Mark waved his hand in the direction of the ER, “have to stop.”

“How can you run those tests? She almost…” Max’s voice faded. It hurt too much to think about. He certainly couldn’t say it.

“We’ll wait until she’s stronger.”

“Is she awake?” Liz squeaked.

“Not yet.” Mark glanced briefly at the chart in his hand. “They’ve taken her upstairs to settle her into her room. I’ll take you both up to see her.”

Mark slapped the thick folder against Max’s chest then took the reins of the wheelchair. He pushed Liz into the corridor toward the elevators as Max watched them, dumbfounded. Then, he jogged to catch up, meeting them just as they stepped into the elevator.

Mark dutifully pushed Liz’s wheelchair to the doorway of Chloe’s room. Absentmindedly, she gripped the wheels and maneuvered herself inside, leaving the men behind in the hall. Max sighed. Liz was a mixture of spooked and devastated. Was this the first episode she had caused? He swallowed back a growl.
Helped cause. I certainly did damage of my own. I’m just as much to blame.

“I could have pushed Liz up here,” Max mumbled in objection.

“It’s all right.” Mark shot him a grin. “From what I understand, you were on the verge of World War Three with her.”

Max frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

“Rico.”

“Is nothing sacred anymore?”

Mark laughed. “You should know that nothing at Hard Drive is sacred.”

Max paused. “What else did he tell you?”

“Nothing. He just said you were probably on your way, that Chloe had started up again. Why? What is the great Max Thomas hiding? Do you secretly work for the CIA? Is Rico your sidekick? Am I unknowingly part of some secret government plot?”

Max let go a chuckle. “No.”

“Yeah. You aren’t pretty enough for the CIA.” Mark’s smile grew mischievous as he stepped into Chloe’s room. Max shook his head as he followed.

Liz sat alongside Chloe’s bed in the dimly lit room. The low hum of the machines standing guard around Chloe provided the background noise. Liz took her daughter’s hand in hers and squeezed it tight.

“This is by far the worst one she’s ever had.” Liz’s voice broke. “Are you sure the vomiting is over?”

“Yeah, I am. When she was stable, I called Chad. Chad gave me the anti-anxiety and anti-nausea medications recommended for adults with Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome. We injected them into her IV. I think that’s why she’s sleeping so peacefully.”

Max could see the glimmer of tears against Liz’s cheek. “She’ll be awake in the morning?”

“She should be.”

“All right. I suppose we should go home.”

“I’ll take you home,” Max agreed. “But then, I’m coming back.”

Liz’s head snapped in his direction. “What? Why would you come back?”

Max gazed at Chloe’s sleeping features.
She looks like an angel.
“I caused this. All of this is my fault. And I nearly lost her forever. I’m not leaving her side until she can go home.”

Max didn’t look at anyone but Chloe as silence filled the room. He could feel their eyes on him.
Do they condemn me for what I said? They can go ahead. I don’t care. The only thing I care about the woman in the hospital bed.