Trusting Gibson (Last Score Book 2) (24 page)

“Gibson, she’ll be alright. She’s the strong silent type. Chloe isn’t the kind of girl that is highly strung and full of drama. That’s gonna help her, you understand?”

I glared angrily at Johnny and snorted. “And how the fuck, do you conclude that, Johnny?”

“Military training. Don’t forget, this is some of the shit I had to learn and teach when I was training my men for operational duties in the field. We didn’t just give them a gun and a badge and send them out to fend for themselves, you know. The real world isn’t the fucking Wild West, Gibson.”

Sitting quietly in the car on the way home, I guess I must have looked like I was having a quiet reflection, but the hatred for Kace was bubbling away in my gut and I wanted to destroy him. The doctor said that if Chloe didn’t improve, that she may be given drugs to slow her mind and help her deal with her condition.

I refused to accept that because they wanted to do that to me with my ADHD, and where it is right for some, I knew it wasn’t for me. I was determined to do anything that would make her feel better inside before I’d accept that. Medicine has a place in mental health— I just wanted to make sure we’d done everything else first.

Arriving back at the hotel, we had the same duck-and-dive routine to get me back into the penthouse without being seen. Lennox was waiting in the suite with Charlotte. I hadn’t seen him since the night in the club. He was the first person I made eye contact with when I walked through the door.

Len pushed himself to stand and hurried across, pulling me into a tight hug saying, “Out.
All
of you. Get the fuck out and leave us!” Without speaking a word Charlotte gathered her stuff, Jerry closed his laptop and Johnny opened the door as we stood silently waiting for everyone to leave.

“Thank God. She’s alright, Gibson. When is she coming back? What happened to her? Did she say where he kept her? Charlotte filled me in. You should have told me, Gibson. We’re as good as brothers.”

“Whoa!” Pushing Len away, I shrugged myself out of my leather jacket and let it drop to the floor, swallowing hard to fight back all the emotion that was threatening to engulf me. Since I heard what Dr. Owen said, tears had been choking me, but I had sucked it up and acted all sensible and strong. However, once it was only me and Len in the room, the emotional roller coaster had reached the end of its ride because with all the will in the world, I couldn’t hold the sob that was strangling me since I’d left the hospital without her.

Len moved quickly and caught me as my legs buckled and he kinda slumped to the ground with me. Loud sobs escaped from my throat like some wounded animal and Len just held my head against his chest and rocked me, much like I had with Chloe when she had done the same.

“Gib, I promise you. Whatever has happened with her, we’ll fix her. You got her, dude. Anything that happened before she was with you made Chloe what she is. Not you. Not…whatever has happened this time. Chloe had baggage before, she dealt.

“I have tons of respect for her, and you, and I know that this is going to be okay. You’ve got to trust yourself and find the strength to help her, but you’ll come through it Gib, and so will she. Remember…nobody died. You said that to me plenty of times when we were in the shit, so take your own advice. Chloe’s alive, dude. That’s all that matters.”

CHAPTER 21 - MEET THE PARENTS

Gibson

Somehow I had been persuaded to finish the tour because I wasn’t allowed to see Chloe. No phone calls, no letters, no pictures. Nothing. Even the information I
was
getting was scant. I was not allowed to see her but even worse neither was her father. The doctor’s reasoning was he was conducting research into the recovery of patients with this condition and how attachment theories could be used to help the patient feel secure. His teams’ findings so far were in cases like Chloe’s it could substantially increase the rate of recovery if only the primary carer, usually the mother was accessible during this process.

Charlotte arranged a house rental for George, Cathy and me and we moved in the following day with Johnny. I know that sounds weird considering I’d never met them before, but I didn’t want to stay separately from them because getting to speak to me was tough at times, and they didn’t need the added stress of not being able to do that if they needed to.

So Chloe’s mom was working with the medical team giving them as much information as possible then even asked me to fill in some forms, then after a week, her mom was allowed a visit. That was particularly hard on her dad and me, because all we had to go on was what Cathy shared when she came home and we were desperate to see for ourselves. Chloe still wasn’t talking but Cathy was excited when she came home because Chloe had given her eye contact and smiled. It was a glimmer of hope in a dark space for all of us.

During this time, Kace had gone to ground, like he’d disappeared and become a non-person. No clues to follow. He emptied his bank account on the day before he took Chloe, so there was no money trail to follow.

Kace had no credit card trail, but investigations found he’d withdrawn $31,603 from the bank. With him using cash for everything he needed, our only hope would be if someone asked him to provide his social security number or he rented a car and used his driver’s license, and used either of these as forms of identity.

The two private investigators and detectives were working round the clock, and Kace hadn’t slipped up at all so far, but I was leaving them to concentrate on that because Chloe was in the safest place possible. If someone like me, with my money, status and her parent’s consent couldn’t see her, then neither could Kace.

The night the tour ended, Len and I sat talking right into the following morning. Previously, I had already told him that when the tour was over M3rCy was taking a break.  Len looked shocked when I told him that I had decided that for me, my priority was Chloe, and I wasn’t going to do any band related stuff until I had a clearer idea of what she needed. What happened to Chloe was because of me, and if I hadn’t arranged to meet her she’d still be safe and anonymous in New York.

“You can’t keep beating yourself up about this, Gib. It happened. The important thing now is what you do next.”
What do I do next?
  I was still at a loss and hung around the rented house doing nothing for pretty much most of the day. Food arrived by courier and was dealt with by Johnny and Jerry because we didn’t want anyone to know what was going on. During this time, when Cathy came home from seeing Chloe, George and I hung on her every word.

Three long, emotional weeks later, the pattern was still the same, except when Cathy came home she told me that Chloe was taking care of her own hygiene and dressing, and had fallen into a routine of doing this. Small steps but it was in the right direction. George and I still weren’t allowed to see her, and I was almost at my wits end without her.

Every time Lennon came over I cried. Simon, Mick and him tried to take me out with them for the night, to take my mind off of her, but I was miserable company so I declined. I just lay on my bed listening to playlist after playlist coming through my ear buds. Bruno Mars was another favorite of Chloe’s and when the song “I Won’t Give Up” came on I could completely relate, knowing I would hang in there for her. Some days I wondered if Chloe would ever speak or I’d ever be allowed to see her again, and my heart ached whenever I thought about that.

Week five, and the update from Dr. Owen was they had started to use music to reach Chloe. I was asked for a list of her favorite bands but the music couldn’t be anything of mine or M3rCy’s. Maroon 5, Bruno Mars, One republic, Daughtry and Ed Sheeran, her other favorite artists, were going to be used.

Filling her head with music, they hoped to trigger some positive responses. They had the tunes playing in the background for most of the day. The doc’s assessment was that she was getting more responsive every day and the idea to use music in particular was gaining momentum.

Chloe was left a pile of CDs and a CD player because these were more visible and tactile than a playlist on a digital device. The medical team wanted to try to bring her mind back to the present time.

While all the news about Chloe was encouraging, my memories of how it felt when she touched me were beginning to frustrate me. The only thing I had, apart from some pictures, was her voicemail. I must have listened to that hundreds of times in the first few days, just to hear the sound of her voice.

When I found a little tank top in the bottom of one of my bags that hadn’t been washed, I held it to my face with both hands and inhaled it deeply. It smelt of the perfume she wore. I used this during some of my darker times, and I wondered if we’d ever regain the closeness we’d started to share before her abduction.

Two days after they gave her the CD’s, Chloe suddenly stood and walked over to them. Flicking through them she chose ‘Baptism’ by Daughtry and selected a specific track to listen to. Track two. “Waiting for Superman.” My heart almost burst out of my chest when they told me that because while it wasn’t significant to them, it was definitely a sign to me, because the song that she connected with me was the one she was listening to on a loop.

Five weeks and three days into her therapy, and they gave Chloe a laptop. No Internet. Just preloaded programs of art and word processing software to see what would happen. Initially, Chloe barely looked at it, then during one of her music sessions she put on Ed Sheeran’s CD and played the song, “Give Me Love” and when Cathy told me that, I wondered if she was thinking of me.
Was she trying to tell them something? Was she telling them she wanted to see me?
So I listened to the words of the song and there was definitely something in that for me.

I had another meeting with Dr. Owen and Chloe’s parents, and I almost lost my shit because he still wouldn’t let me see her. I was so fucking frustrated about that, and after some time he suggested the medical team would take some photographs to show me that she looked well and was relaxed in her environment. Her parents had to give permission along with me to allow them to take the pictures, because Chloe was a vulnerable person and didn’t have the capacity to give her consent.

When I opened the door to the rental house and stepped inside without her again, I felt so fucking angry that I rang Len. “Get me drunk. I need to get the fuck out of here. I’m hurting so bad that if I spend another night in silence with the thoughts in my head, I’m gonna go fucking crazy.”

Cathy and George understood where I was coming from, and encouraged me to spend time with the guys. George was particularly kind when he rose out of his chair and hugged me tightly. I was committed to helping Chloe and I knew I had to have a strong mental attitude when she came home to gain her trust. I was up for that challenge, but at that moment I needed something to stop my mind going around in circles.

Len arrived, and he along with Johnny and Jerry took me to an exclusive club we’d been to a couple of years ago. Hearing the music lifted my heavy heartbroken mood and after a few drinks, Chloe was still on my mind, but my thoughts weren’t as overbearing as they had been since she’d been taken. When I updated Len, he was of the opinion that she’d be home in no time.

Len goaded me a lot during the evening and even got me up dancing with a couple of great fangirls who couldn’t believe their luck at being invited to a completely different VIP do, when they came across us by accident. I was fine until some fucker started taking pictures and then I saw red. Furious at the loss of privacy when I was trying to do something normal, I threw a punch. I’m not proud of it and at the time the dude seemed apologetic and full of remorse.

The next morning a repetitive noise dragged me from my unconscious state. I was instantly aware of the dull throb in my head, which wasn’t improved when I answered the phone and Charlotte informed me about the new article posted overnight.

Is Gibson Barclay’s Competition Squeeze Chloe Jenner history?

Bad Boy Gibson Barclay seemed to be back on the market last night as he partied with band mate Lennox and bodyguards late into the night in the VIP area of SPD nightclub. Sexy as sin, Gibson looked a free man without a care in the world when he celebrated his freedom with two unnamed beauties. Gibson was reportedly in a relationship with Chloe Jenner, competition winner, who caused a sensation when photographs emerged of the couple’s sex antics only a day after meeting each other. After spending several hours in the company of the females, Lennox and Gibson left with their security detail alone. The unknown females were unavailable for comment.

After the altercation I thought that had been the end of it, but true to form he’d already sent the picture on to his email before he’d deleted it in the club in front of me.  As if I wasn’t dealing with enough and now there was even more to explain to Chloe at some point.

First I’d have to face her parents about it, so I got out of bed, stepped into my jeans and threw on a t-shirt, then padded barefooted into the kitchen. Cathy had already gone to see Chloe and George was sitting quietly on a wicker chair staring out of the large French doors at the landscaped garden. Pouring coffee into the mug, I interrupted George’s thoughts and he turned his head to look at me.

“This is so draining. I’m out of my fucking head with grief about this. Sometimes my only thought is when Chloe gets out of this, I’m going hunting. The thoughts alone in my head would get my gun license revoked.”

“Indeed.” I knew exactly what he meant. I’d had many of those exact same thoughts myself. I placed my coffee cup down and maneuvered around the counter to stand next to his chair. Both of us stared silently out of the window for about a minute, then I heard George sniff. When I turned to face him, George put his hands over his face and began sobbing. I knew how he was feeling so without hesitation I bent down and hugged him tightly, absorbing the movement of his shaking body that wracked with distress.