Chapter 6

Dominick

Opal is in full swing as I watch the club bounce from the silence and security of my office. I usually keep an eye on things from up here, and it's no different tonight.

At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

I've been glued to the sight of Chloe in that fucking outfit since she came out. Even more surprising is that she seems to have settled into the routine of things pretty quickly.

I mean, I know I'm up here and can hardly get a great read on the situation, but by the number of Flaming Opals she's made, Chloe has to be feeling more at home in the club.

"Not that you should fucking care, Dom." Christ, get a grip, man.

My grumbling comes to a halt when I notice there's someone else keeping tabs on Chloe. The bird's-eye view from my office provides a better visual layout of the place, and as she's been walking through the club taking orders, a dude in a black hoodie has been subtly following along.

It's common for guys to get interested in a waitress or bartender and decide they want to ask her out. So why isn't this sitting right?

Grabbing the walkie from the charging station near my desk, I radio for Sean, head of my security team.

"Hey, you guys have eyes on Hoodie who's stalking the new girl?"

It's only a moment before he replies.

"Yeah, boss. He's been here for most of the night. He's ordered a few, but nothing too excessive. What's up?"

I'm not sure what to tell him. Something just doesn't feel right; call it the years in the military, but I'm usually right about these kinds of things. I continue to watch the guy for a few more seconds when Chloe breaks for the restroom near the back.

"I'm not sure. I don't like it. He's not just some drunk. Trust me."

"Of course, Dom. You want me to have someone go check on him?" Sean sounds relaxed but focused, which is exactly why I like the guy.

"Yeah. Please do."

Setting the walkie down on my bar, I see Sean send Jason to chat with hoodie dude. But before Jason can get to him, the guy splits off from the crowd and toward the bathroom where Chloe went.

Yeah, coincidences happen, but as I watch the asshole take a less than direct approach to the stalls, my internal alarm bells start to flare.

"No. You're up to something."

I don't wait another minute, jogging down the stairs to the main floor, intent on finding that guy fast. I'm just at the bottom of the steps when I hear a muffled yell from the back.

"Chloe."

It may be nothing, nothing to go on in any other situation, but it's enough. I sprint, hauling ass to the back and toward the exit I know is there.

My feet hit the unpolished cement floor as a loud smack echoes, and when I round the corner, I see the fucker dragging Chloe close to the door by the arm.

She's holding her cheek, her eyes wide.

Oh, fuck no.

Barreling forward, I smash my shoulder into the guy and launch him away from Chloe. She's yanked to the floor by the abrupt impact, but it breaks his hold on her, which is all I need.

As the asshole starts to right himself, he swings. I have to admit he's fast, not a newbie by any stretch, and he lands a punch right across my jaw.

I've been hit before, though, so I don't slow down, returning with a blow of my own that lands the guy on his ass.

He's up quickly, surprising me again while giving me a clue to his skills, but then security rushes in around me and works together to pin the guy to the floor.

"Cops are on their way. Called as soon as I saw you running." Sean stands over the guy while Jason and the others keep him under control.

"Thanks." I immediately turn to Chloe. "Are you all right?"

From the floor, she just stares up at me, wide-eyed, like I've only seen during my years of service, and I can tell she's overcome with shock.

"Hey, Chloe. It's me." I kneel down in front of her, blocking her view of the guy still thrashing on the cement. "Can you look at me?"

Her gaze eventually flicks to mine, and the red on her cheek has me inches from turning back to the scumbag and snapping his neck.

"I…what just…"

"It's okay." She clearly can't work like this, and I'm not making her stay in the fucking breakroom while the cops come. "Let's get you out of here."

I help her to stand, and Chloe is wobbly on her feet. The adrenaline is wearing off, and I can see the shake start in her fingers.

"Um, my, um…my stuff."

"We'll grab it. Come on."

I take her under the arm and guide her to the lockers. I don't know which one is hers, and I'm not sure if she can remember the combination to her lock, either.

"Which number, Chloe?"

She looks up at me and then over at the line of small doors. "That one."

Chloe points to locker six, and I reach for the keys in my pocket. I keep the master on the ring in case of emergencies, and I'm really glad I didn't leave them in the office this time.

Opening things up, I grab Chloe's bag and sweater from the locker. I help her to put on the cover-up, then look back inside for a coat.

"Do you have a jacket?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay, here." I take off my blazer and slide it over the sweater she's got on. Chloe just stares off, her eyes settling on nothing.

"Is this your only bag?"

"Yeah." She takes it, slinging it over her shoulder clumsily. "Thank you."

"All right, let's go."

She looks up at me, coming back to herself a bit more. "Where are we going? Don't we need to talk to the police or something?"

"They can find us if they have questions. They know where I live."

Chloe's mouth falls open a bit. "You're taking me to your house?"

I meet her eyes, unwavering. "Yeah."

The wheels turn behind Chloe's eyes, and I can see her deliberating with herself.

"Just till you feel more like yourself. Okay?"

She stares at me for a while before nodding. "Okay."

When we get to my penthouse, I make sure to set Chloe up on the couch with a blanket after locking the door and engaging the security system.

"Okay, hang tight for a minute. I'll get you something to drink."

Chloe nods, and I hit the kitchen for a glass of water. I move quickly, not wanting to leave Chloe alone for even a second, which I know is insane, considering where we are.

Still, she's on the verge of panic. I recognize the look, and I don't want her falling apart. I sit next to her on the couch, handing over the water.

"Drink up. You'll need it."

She takes a few sips and then sets the glass down on my coffee table.

"Thank you."

And then it's like her brain catches up to everything, and her stare blows wide.

"Oh my God, you hit that guy! He was trying to drag me out of the club. No, no, no."

Chloe covers her face with her hands, shaking it repeatedly, and I put my hands on her shoulders.

"Whoa, calm down. You're okay. You're safe. He's long gone by now, and I'm sure he's being processed by the cops."

She suddenly looks up, true terror behind her eyes, and goes to stand up. "You don't understand. I can't be here! No, this is so messed up. I need to go."

Reaching for her arm, I immediately pull back as she flinches away like I might hurt her.

"I'm not…I won't hurt you, Chloe. What's going on? You can talk to me."

Chloe shakes her head, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. "No. No, I can't. I—look, I appreciate this. I do. But you need to just stay here and let me go deal with this."

I stand up, putting myself between her and the door. "Absolutely not. You're clearly in some kind of trouble. So spill."

"God, you're so bossy. This isn't your business. I can handle it."

With a glare, she moves around me, and damn, if I haven't heard that before. It's just like with my mother.

She would never accept help, accept the truth about who she was hanging out with. Dammit, is that what's going on? Is she in with some creep?

My eyes go to the growing bruise on her face, and Chloe's face drops to the floor. She covers the mark with her hand, not making eye contact.

It's like watching a movie on live replay. I can see my mom busted up, on the floor, bleeding from her lip as I help her to stand.

I can see her stumbling all over herself as I kick away the last of her most recent score.

Chloe's not a junkie. I can tell that much, but she's running from something. And she's in serious denial if she thinks she can "handle" it.

"Sit." I gesture toward the couch as I lower myself down. "I can help."

"You can get hurt. I'm not going to be responsible for that." Chloe pinches back her frown as she shakes her head.

"Trust me, I'll be fine. I was in the Marines, remember?"

"Oh, so that makes you some kind of expert?" Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears, and I can tell she doesn't want to let them fall.

With a sigh, I rake my hand through my hair. "I've also got some personal experience dealing with shitty exes."

As I look up again, I raise my brows at her, nodding down at the cushion next to me.

"Ugh." Chole drops herself onto the couch. "Fine. But I'm just sitting down. I need to get back home eventually, and I can't walk from here."

"Fair enough." I pick up the glass. "Drink your water."

She glares at me, grinding her teeth as I refuse to set the thing back down. Eventually, Chloe takes the cup, sipping at the water until a good amount is gone, and she puts it back down.

"Good. Now, let me see that."

I reach for her face, and while she does flinch again, she doesn't stop me from turning her head so I can inspect the injury.

"He slapped you?"

Chloe nods. "Yeah."

"Well, then, I'm glad I punched him." I stand up. "You need ice."

Without another word, I head to the kitchen again to grab an ice pack and return to the couch with it wrapped in a towel.

"Here. Put it on the center to keep the swelling down."

She takes it, but not without eyeing me. "You really like to play doctor, huh?"

"Like I said, I was in the Marines. I'm good with injuries."

Chloe scoffs. "It's hardly an injury. I was just slapped. It's not like I'm going to lose a leg or something."

An image of my brother's leg being blown off rushes forward in my mind, and I can't stop the scowl. When I look back at Chloe, she's a bit taken aback.

"Sorry. I guess that's…I shouldn't have said that."

"Yeah." I pull the ice away from her cheek, holding my hand around hers as I look at the contusion again. "It's not bad. The skin didn't break."

"Okay." Chloe bites the corner of her lip, her eyes finding the floor.

It's then that I realize I haven't let go of her hand. In fact, we're both apparently content to keep them together because Chloe's not making a move, either.

I need to help her. This was just today, and I know it won't be the last time. I just know it.

"Talk to me, Chloe."

Her gaze comes back to me, and I hold it. She takes her hand from mine, crossing her arms around herself as she looks down at the coffee table.

"I can't."

"You can."

My fingers go to her chin, forcing her eyes up to mine again.

"My patience isn't the greatest, you know. So just tell me before I go find out what's going on from that asshole at the club."

I watch the shock play over her face, keeping her attention locked on me with my grip on her chin. That's right, Chloe. So what's it going to be? Trust me or not?