Chapter 17

There was a chill in the air, so cold it filtered through her coat and onto her skin. The wind nipped at her already reddened cheeks as she walked briskly along the street. Chloe was nervous for every reason she should be. The wind blew violently, swaying the branches of the barren tress. It was so quiet, so lonely on the streets. She put up her guard. It was times like this she was most afraid, when all she could hear was her rapid breathing and her pulse pounding inside her head.

Chloe would give anything to hear something break the dead silence. A dog barking, children at play, anything to break the silence of the cold winter day. No matter what, she could feel him. As much as she tried to shrug off the sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach, she knew Derek would come for her. She knew she couldn't hide, and that no one would be able to protect her. He always got what he wanted and would stop at nothing until she came back to him. One way or another.

She rounded the corner. Brady's apartment building was in view. Chloe almost smiled as she headed into the tall building. Stepping into the elevator, she was alone, but at the last second, a man in a hooded jacket ran in before the doors closed. Trying not to look at him, Chloe watched him from the corner of her eye. She didn't recognize him, and he didn't seem familiar. Her eyes travelled to his hand. In it, he held an object, silver, shining. Immediately, Chloe tensed up. Derek had friends, people that would do anything for him.

Her mind raced. There was no way she could protect herself. She couldn't fend off someone who was bigger and stronger than she, no matter how hard she tried. The sheen of the metal reflected off the elevator doors, casting reflections throughout the small box. He moved the object in his hand, turning it in his palm. Chloe was almost sure now it was a knife, and at any second, it could be plush against her skin. In a swift movement, he could be pushing into her neck or abdomen. Literally, she began to shake as the evil thoughts entered her head. She looked around the small cube for some way to escape. There was no way out. She would have to face this stranger, no matter what his intentions.

He turned, facing her, his eyes dark, his face shadowed by his hood. Chloe held her breath, closing her eyes to brace herself. The man took a step forward, and Chloe jumped back. ""Hey, are you okay?" the young man asked, taking down his hood to look her in the eyes. He couldn't have been more than 16 years old, with kind brown eyes.

Chloe looked at him, feeling foolish. "Yeah...Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry...it's just when you came at me..."

"I didn't mean to freak you out. I was just going to ask you if I could bum a smoke off ya," he said, holding up the silver zippo in his hand.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't smoke," Chloe stated quietly.

"Too bad," the boy said and stepped off the elevator.

Chloe stood alone again, reeling over what had happened. Derek had made her a quivering mess, and it was all a part of his plan. She knew it. He wanted her to be on the edge, so she couldn't even sleep at night. He wanted to make her paranoid, so she suspected everyone and everything. It was all a game to him, and Chloe was his pawn. She gathered her dignity and bags of groceries and stepped off the elevator, walking straight up to Brady's door.

Chloe knocked on the door to Brady's apartment impatiently. "Brady, open the damn door. I'm going to drop everything."

Brady ran for the door laughing. When he opened it, Chloe smiled brightly at him. He took the bags of food from her hands and set them on the kitchen counter. "I can't believe you talked me into this."

"It's time to expand your horizons, learn new things," she said cheerfully, trying to mask her insecurities and the pain she was going through. The last thing she and Brady needed was more problems. Some things, she decided, were better left unsaid.

"Not that I disagree with you, but do I have to start by cooking?"

"I order out a lot."

"See? That's my point. Now grab those bags, and help me put them away."

"Yes, sir!" Brady mock saluted her.

"Now, I thought we should start with something easy."

"I don't care what we start with. I'm just starving."

"Black, when aren't you hungry?"

"Good point."

They went into the kitchen and flipped through some cookbooks. In the end, they decided on vegetarian lasagna. Brady stood next to Chloe at the kitchen counter, chopping and peeling vegetables while Chloe read the instructions out of the cooking manual. They went to the living room as they waited for their creation to cook. It was actually a pleasant experience for both of them. They managed to not have a single fight, and they didn't let the impending sexual tension get in the way.

"Brady, I have a great idea. Let's make a huge fire and watch a movie."

"Are you sure that's still within the friend boundary?"

"You're such a geek!" she laughed, poking him in the chest. "Lots of people watch movies together. There doesn't have to be anything romantic or sexual about it."

"You've obviously never watched a movie with me," Brady said, laughing at the cute look of amusement on Chloe's face.

"Shut up, and pick out a movie. I'll put some more wood in the fire and TRY to control myself. Okay with you?"

"Sounds great!"

Brady went to the cabinet and searched through his collection of DVDs, selecting an old sentimental favourite. A tale perfect for them, ""Rebecca.""

"What's taking you so long?" Brady laughed as he watched Chloe struggle with the logs of wood in her arms.

"These things are heavy. Why don't you help me?""

"Actually, Chloe, those are really just for show. The fireplace is actually gas, and it works by just pressing buttons on this little remote," he said, smiling and pressing a button, igniting the flames.

Chloe dropped the wood and smiled in spite of herself. "You jerk, why didn't you tell me?"

"Now, where would the fun in that be?"

"Is anything ever simple with you?"

"Afraid not," Brady said, slumping down on the couch.

"Ouch!"

"What?"

"I have a splinter," Chloe pouted.

"Chloe, only you could get a splinter from props."

"This isn't funny, Brady. It hurts."

"Come on over here, and let me take a look at it."

"No, I will be perfectly fine on my own," she snorted, holding her finger protectively.

"Stop being so stubborn, and get your little butt over here."

"Well gee, since you told me so nicely……" Chloe sat next to him and reluctantly showed him her finger.

"Whoa, that is in there pretty deep. We may have to cut it out."

"What!?" she screamed and pulled her hand out of his grasp.

"I was kidding! Let me see it. I'll get it out for you. You won't even feel it."

"No! You're lying. You're going to hurt me."

"I promise I won't."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because I'm giving you my word," Brady said, smiling sweetly at her, taking her hand in his. Ever so gently, Brady examined the menacing piece of wood embedded in her middle finger. He clasped her palm softly in his hands, while he tried to figure out the best approach to get rid of the splinter. Slowly, he brought her hand to his mouth and took her finger against his lips.

Cool, soft breath rolled against her skin to take the sting away. He lightly pressed his tongue against her injury. Chloe watched him, seeing such tenderness and affection in his eyes. Before she even realized what was happening, he took her finger inside his mouth, gently probing the surface of her skin. The feeling took Chloe off guard, and she closed her eyes, as he continued to ease the sliver out. Soft, mounting pressure soothed her as her breathing became strained. Sucking her middle finger inside his mouth, he eased the sliver to the surface. She relaxed beside him as his tongue seared against her tingling skin. There was only a light pressure but like he promised, no pain.

He watched her eyes flutter open when he released her finger and took out the wood. Gently, he kissed her skin. "See? Just like I promised, no pain."

God, if only he had known how much torture he had just played on Chloe, then he might have to redefine that term. "Yeah...Thank you," she whispered, still not being able to believe that Brady Black was real. He had so many sides to him. Finally, he was beginning to show her that underneath all the anger and pain, there was a sensitive, caring man inside. This was the Brady she wanted to know more of. She looked at him, still cupping her splinter-free hand, lightly rubbing his thumb against her palm.

His eyes were full of concern. Chloe felt her own heart melt as she continued to stare into his blue depths. Mesmerized, she let her eyes trail to his lips. Those perfect, full lips that had tasted so much like heaven she had felt like she was floating. She could smell his masculine cologne and was tempted to run her hands through his soft, blonde hair. Chloe almost had to shake herself out of it. She had to remind herself that they were working on their friendship, and she was content doing so. However, she knew sooner or later she wouldn't be able to stand it. She would want to be closer to him, to touch and taste hi, like she had done that night after the party. Only the next time they were together, nothing would be able to make her stop.

"What, no popcorn?" she asked, trying to break the tension coursing through the room.

"I'm on it," he laughed.

They sat beside each other on Brady's couch. Chloe held the bowl for them and ate happily.

Brady turned to face her and smiled. "I'm impressed."

"Impressed with what?"

"Well, we just spent an hour in that kitchen of mine, using appliances I didn't know I owned, doing manual labour, and I actually enjoyed myself. How'd you do that?"

"What can I say, Brady? I have my ways," Chloe laughed.

"You certainly do," he said, moving closer to her. Chloe held her breath as he moved his arm onto the back of the couch, just inches away from her. "Chloe, I think I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

"For all the crap that I've pulled on you lately. I've been in a mood for a long time. Some people think my whole life is one big mood." He laughed, before getting serious. ""I've done a lot of things in my life that I'm not proud of, and I haven't treated you the way you should be treated."

"Yeah. And how's that?"

Gently, he let his hand slide off the back of the couch and rest on her shoulder. "Well, for one thing, I need to stop treating you with so much disrespect. We play this game, Chloe. We have our roles and our parts down. For once, I wish I could just let down my guard."

"In time." She smiled back at him, nuzzling against his chest and letting out a contented sigh.

"Chloe?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, closing her eyes slightly. His hand gently slid up and down her back, slowly, in a rhythmic pattern, making her feel at ease.

"What do you plan on doing with your life?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're not going to work for me forever. There's no future there for you."

Chloe sat up suddenly, awareness entering into her eyes, making the lines on her face harsh. "Are you firing me?"

"No," he chuckled. "Not yet."

"Then what is this about?"

"You once told me that you had a passion for opera, and Jared told me you were on your way to Julliard but you didn't make it in the first time around. It's been a long time, and I just wondered what happened to those dreams. What happened to that four year old girl that used to sing words in languages unknown to her because she loved it so much?"

Chloe turned away from him, standing and fidgeting with a loose string on her sleeve.

"Chloe, I asked you a question," he said, coming behind her and spinning her around. Lightly, he touched her chin, tilting her head to look him in the eye. "What happened to those dreams?"

"That's all they were, Brady, just dreams. I'm not good enough. I'm not four years old anymore. I know now that singing was just a dream," she told him, moving away from him. She went back to staring intently at the thread. She pulled gently, and the string came loose. Twirling it in her hands, she tied it into a knot before she dropped it to the ground.

Slowly, it fell onto the solid wood floor and was whisked away as Brady approached, his steps fast, his eyes determined. "I don't believe you," he stated simply.

"It doesn't matter what you believe. You're not the one that decides who gets in or not. You're not the one that made a fool out of yourself."

"I bet you were just nervous. I bet you'll do better the second time around."

"There won't be a second time. I can't go through that kind of humiliation again. I just can't."

"Humiliation?"

"Do you know what they said to me, Brady?"

He shrugged his shoulders and waited for her to continue.

"They told me that my performance was mechanical. They could see that I knew all the notes, but that wasn't the problem. That's not why I didn't get in. They said an opera is all about emotions. Then, one of the directors asked me if I knew what they meant. Then I went into this spiel, telling them exactly what the opera I had just performed was about. They just stared at me. They said I needed to put a little of myself into it. I needed to forget about being perfect and concentrate on selling the story. I just couldn't understand. I thought I had done so well. I was crushed, Brady, absolutely crushed. They must have seen that, and that's why they offered to give me a second chance. As I walked out the door, one of the women told me, ''It's not easy to let people in, but if you want to go here, if you want to sing at the Met, you have to show people who you are. Until you figure that out, all the lessons in the world won't help you.''"

"Well that sounds like good advice."

"I suppose."

"So what have you done about it?"

"I went to find my mother," she said, making her way back to the couch.

"Your mother?" he asked as he joined her.

"I wanted to find out who I was, and I figured the best place to start was to find out where I came from. She lives in this little town with her doctor husband. They're really a sweet couple, but not what I expected. I just didn't fit in. They didn't understand my lifestyle, and I couldn't conform to theirs. I found out where they lived from some papers once. I guess I just always remembered it. When I was little, I would make up little stories about my parents. It was my own little fairy tale. One day, I thought, they would come and find me and rescue me. I thought I would have my own Daddy Warbucks, and life would be sweet. But I was wrong. It didn't really surprise me, but I still had a little hope left in the back of my mind."

"I wish we had met sooner, then maybe we wouldn't be this screwed up."

"I dunno. I think I was fated to come into that garage when I did. I wouldn't change it."

"But there's been so much pain in your life. Wouldn't you want to give some of that up?"

"No. It makes us who we are. Not everything in my life has been about pain, Brady. I was loved once."

"And did you love?"

"I thought I had."

"And now?"

"Now...I'm not so sure," Chloe admitted, her face flushing a deep red.

They left it at that and got caught up in the rapture of silence, until Brady turned the movie back on. It wasn't long before they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms. It was comfortable. The warm sun penetrated the room, warming the air and painting the walls with colour. It was probably the deepest, richest sleep either one of them had in a long time.

They continued to slumber through the afternoon and into the night. For once, Chloe could be safe. She didn't have to think about Derek or his menacing ways. When she was with Brady, none of it mattered. It was an entirely different world from the one she had known, and it was getting better with each day that passed.