Divorced, Desperate and Dead (Divorced and Desperate Book 5) (35 page)

She nodded. “And when he does, he’ll call me, and I’ll tell him then. He hasn’t had an easy day.”

Sheri’s frown grew deeper. “You know, when you break up with someone you aren’t supposed to really be concerned about how they take it.”

“I’m not.” Oh, yes she was.

“The Chloe I know would pick up the phone and get it over with right now.”

“I know. This is my new persona.”

“What persona is that?”

“Screwed-up bitch.”

• • •

Six hours later, reports done, the evening sun hanging low in the west, Cary walked into the hospital. As bad as he wanted to go home, to lose himself in the happiness he felt simply from being with Chloe, he needed to know how J.D. and Pablo were doing.  He’d called earlier, and their conditions had been upgraded from critical to serious. But he wanted to see for himself. Well, he at least wanted to see J.D.

Seeing Pablo wasn’t on his list. But damn if he wasn’t relieved that he was okay.

He considered what he wanted to tell J.D. He wouldn’t be able to talk to the DA for a few days, but the kid should at least know he had people behind him.

As he waited on the elevator, he tugged his phone from his pocket and checked it.

For about the hundredth time.

He’d sort of expected to have a reply text from Chloe. He pushed the disappointment aside, telling himself it meant nothing.

She was at his house waiting on him. They’d talk.  Talk about all that went down today.

About her being nervous about him being a cop.

About the fact that he wasn’t afraid of her anymore.

He was ready.

Ready to have her on his arm when he went to see his sisters.

Ready to have dinner with Jason and Sue, telling the world they were a couple.

Ready to put his past behind him.

All of a sudden, he remembered something else he needed to do: call Paula, telling her that he wasn’t available for booty calls anymore. Well, he was going to have to say it nicer than that. He didn’t want to be disrespectful. He just didn’t want it anymore.

He wanted Chloe.

Chapter Thirty-eight

It was almost nine that night. The angel had answered J.D.’s prayer, and it hadn’t hurt when he was shot. But he’d hurt like hell since he woke up from surgery and now she wasn’t listening. Maybe she’d realized who he was, and decided he deserved some pain.

But damn, how could it hurt more to take a bullet out than to put one in?

There was a light knock at the door. J.D. had heard the officer assigned to sit outside his room speaking with the nurses. So far the guy hadn’t wanted to be social.

That was okay. He wasn’t up to being social himself.

The knock came again. When he didn’t answer, the door swished open about six inches.

“Want some company for a few minutes?”

J.D. knew the voice. When he squinted, he recognized the face peering through the door. Cary Stevens reminded him of someone. But he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The fact that he was nice enough to ask if he could come in said a lot. “Yeah, sure.” His memory flashed that this guy hadn’t been out of the hospital too long himself. J.D. couldn’t be sure, but thought he noticed the cop favoring one leg.

“It probably does your heart good to see me shot.”

“Not true,” the man said and eased in the door.

For a second, J.D. wondered if somehow the guy was slow putting the facts together. Could he not know J.D. had shot him?

“You do know. . .” Damn, that was stupid. He closed his mouth.

“That you shot me?” he finished J.D.’s sentence. He kind of smiled. “I know.”

J.D. nodded. “So, are you like religious or something and forgive people?”

The cop hesitated before answering. “I wouldn’t describe myself as religious, per se. But I believe in . . . the whole afterlife stuff. And yeah, I believe in forgiveness.”

“So you’ve really forgiven me?” For some reason, J.D. needed to hear it.

“Yeah, I’ve forgiven you.” The cop said. “What about you? You religious?”

“I believe in angels,” J.D. said.

“Seen any lately?” Cary asked.

“Would ya think I’m crazy if I say yes?”

“Hell no.” The man moved a little closer to the bed. He stuck one hand in his pocket. “You hurting?”

“Like hell,” he said.

“You want me to get your nurse?”

“Nah. She just came in. Said I’ll get something in an hour. Gotta tough it out.”

He stood there quietly before saying.. “Thanks for taking Jax out. It could have turned out differently if you hadn’t.”

J.D. stared at him. “I just figured out who you look like. That actor. The one who played in the pirate movies.”

Cary smiled. “I get that a lot. But I’ll bet he makes a hell of a lot more money than I do. Not to mention gets a lot of girls.”

J.D. grinned. “Probably.” The pain in his shoulder started radiating down his arm. He let his head fall back just a bit.

“Look, I just came by to let you know that I’m gonna do what I can to help.”

J.D. looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I found the phone. Saw the video. CSU found another video. The one where they killed Marc Jones.”

“I didn’t know he took that one. I wasn’t there.”

The cop nodded. “I know. I appreciate you turning this in. Can I count on you to testify?”

“I’d hoped you’d ask me,” J.D. said. “They hurt my friend. He didn’t do anything except not tell them where I was.”

“I heard. He’s doing ok, by the way. I just asked his nurse.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been asking, too.”

“Like I said, I’m going to do what I can for you. I’ll talk to the DA.”.

J.D. figured it wouldn’t hurt to mention something. “The Black Bloods have a lot of members in prison. I need to be put in one far away. Real far.”

The cop looked surprised. “Look, I can’t promise anything, but with what you’ve done, I’m gonna ask for probation.”

J.D. wasn’t sure if he heard him right. “Ask for what?”

“Probation.”

“Why would you do that?”

“’Cause I don’t think you’re really a bad kid. Just made some bad decisions.”

J.D. felt his chest tighten. “The only one who ever said that about me was my grandma.”

“She must have been a smart woman,” the cop said.

• • •

Chloe refilled her glass. They had gone through one and a half bottles of Cab. They weren’t drunk, but were on their way to being non-sober silly. Thankfully, they’d only talked about good things. About Sheri cold-cocking Bradley Butler for trying to look up her dress. About the hot quarterback in eleventh grade, David Mosely, and the time he decided to run naked through the gym. They had, of course, been two of the lucky ones who got to see it all.

Unfortunately, at the first lull in conversation, Sheri had turned the television on, minus sound.

The local news was on and Chloe gasped when she saw the screen fill with Cary’s face. He looked miserable. “Turn it up,” Chloe insisted.

The reporter’s voice boomed into the room. “Glencoe’s mayor had already held a press conference, expressing sympathy for the family of the teens who are in the hospital. “The detective who shot the sixteen-year-old Pablo Santiago is being questioned, and an investigation is ongoing.”

Chloe covered her mouth, her chest filled with empathy. “He shot a kid?” They showed his image again, and she could see the emotion in his eyes. He was hurting.

And right then her phone, buried in her purse, rang.

• • •

Cary couldn’t freaking believe it. He’d called her name out as soon as he’d walked in. Only silence echoed back. He dropped the pizza on the table and went to see if she’d fallen asleep in his bed.

She wasn’t there, asleep or otherwise.

He stopped in the hall. “Cupcake? Kitty, kitty?”

Not a sound, not even a low meow answered his call. He made his way to the extra bedroom. The litter box was gone.

“Shit! Where is she?” He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed. It went to voicemail.

“Hey, Chloe, it’s me, Cary. I’m home and . . . you’re not home . . . I mean, you’re not here.” This wasn’t her home, but . . . “I, uh, I guess maybe I just assumed you would be. I mean, now I remember you saying something about not staying more than one night, but . . .  I don’t know, I just thought. . .” He paused again, realizing he sucked at leaving messages, but he kept talking. “Where are you? Is everything okay? Call me. I was really looking forward to seeing you.”

• • •

By the time Chloe got her phone out, it had gone to voice mail. She waited a few minutes and then listened to his message. It felt as if her heart broke apart.

“What did he say?” Sheri asked.

She swallowed. “I have to call him.” She started to dial his number.

“Wait,” Sheri said.

“For what?” Chloe asked.

Sheri frowned. “What are you going to do?”

Chloe bit down on her lip. “I don’t know. Should I go see him? Make sure he’s okay?”

Sheri made a face. “Maybe. I mean . . . could you do that and not end up jumping his shit?”

Chloe sighed. “For about five minutes.” She dropped her face in her hands. “What am I going to tell him?”

“The truth might work,” Sheri said and frowned.

Chloe nodded. “But doesn’t he have enough on his plate.”

Sheri sighed. “See there it is again. You’re worried about hurting him. If he’s guilty of what you think he’s guilty of, he deserves to be hurt. Do you think he’s guilty?”

When Chloe just stood there unsure of anything, Sheri sighed. “Okay, he’s had a hell of a day. I wouldn’t tear him a new asshole right now, but just tell him you met his girlfriend. Who knows, maybe he’ll have an excuse.”

She nodded. “ Okay, I can do this.” She dialed the number. Her heart raced, her palms began to sweat.

“Chloe?” he answered on the first ring and sounded so relieved.

“Yes.”

“Where . . . where are you?”

“I . . . I had. . .” Oh, hell. She recalled the look on his face when he’d appeared on the television. “I saw the news. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’d be much better if you were here.”

“Yeah, well, I had to . . .” The words stuck in her throat.

“Had to what? Is it your grandmother?”

She took another deep breath. “Yeah. I . . . I’m at the airport. About to go to Florida.” Chloe saw Sheri shake her head.

“What? Damn, I really. . .” He paused and then said, “How bad is it?”

He sounded so concerned that her chest filled with liquid pain. “Not . . . real bad. I was just . . . I felt I should be there.”

“Okay.” He got quiet. “What about your bakery?”

She paused. “Sheri and Amber are helping me.”

“Where in Florida are you going?” he asked.

She closed her eyes. “Clearwater.”

There was another pause. “Would you like . . . I could come there. You know, just to give you some moral support. What time does the plane take off?”

The knot in her throat doubled in size. “No. I . . . uh. It’s gonna be crazy. I’ll call you when. . .”
When I feel strong enough to tell you and I think you’re strong enough to hear it
. “When I’m back in town.”

Silence filled the line. Awkward silence. The kind so void of noise that it sounded loud. “I really wouldn’t mind coming,” he said.

She swallowed. “No. Take care of yourself. And I’m really sorry. I hope things go okay?”

She hung up and immediately turned off her phone.

Tears slipped from her lashes. “It’s official,” she said.

“What?” Sheri asked.

“I love him. It wouldn’t hurt this much if I didn’t.”

• • •

Sorry about what?
Take care of myself? I hope things go well? Why did that sound like . . . goodbye?
Cary tried calling her back. She didn’t answer. He finally went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He downed it in a matter of minutes. Then he grabbed another one.

He tried to call her again. She still wasn’t answering. Something wasn’t right. It felt as if . . . as if more was going on than just her sick grandma. Combing his memory, he tried to think of what he’d said on the way out. The only thing he could remember were her words
. I just realized one of the downsides of dating a cop.

That had to be it, didn’t it? But shouldn’t she at least give him a chance to explain the real odds. Sure, this had been a hell of a two weeks. He’d gotten shot at twice, died, and escaped certain death because he’d been wearing a vest. But most of the time he spent running down leads that went nowhere.

He needed to explain that. Or was he overreacting? Her grandmother was old and having heart problems. She could really just be concerned about her.

He didn’t even know her grandmother, but he was concerned for her, too. And more concerned about Chloe. Why hadn’t she wanted him to come?

Moving to the bathroom, he stripped off his clothes and started the shower. He was under the water, sipping the last of his beer, when the memory of Chloe in the shower hit him.

Shit, he wanted to see her.

He had just soaped up his hair when he heard the phone ring. Had she changed her mind? Calling to ask him to come? Running out of the shower, he slipped and landed on his ass. That was gonna bruise. But not wasting any time, he bolted back up, ran naked down his hall and snatched up the phone and took the call.

“Chloe?”

“Uh . . . no. It’s Kelly.”

“Kelly,” he said and ran a hand over his face to get some of the suds out of his eyes. Then he rubbed his ass where he’d probably have a bruise later.

“Yeah. Kelly, your sister? Remember me?” she asked with sarcasm.

“Yeah, it took me a minute,” he replied with the same tone.

“You okay? I saw the news. Why didn’t you call me?”

“The news made a big deal of it. The kid is fine. I’m fine,” he lied. Nothing was fine. Chloe wasn’t here. And he was gonna have a bruise on his ass to match the one on his ribs. And he’d almost killed a kid today.

“I picked up Pooch like you asked.”

His mind raced. “Did you see Chloe? Was she okay?”