Page 80 of Becoming Super

Zack looked crestfallen, “Oh, so it’s a no on the morning run?”

I snorted, “It’s a hell no with cherries on top.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he blew out a loud breath.

I smiled at his look of disgust; even irritated the man was something to behold.

“Cheer up, John Boy, I am sure that things on the farm will all straighten out somehow.”

“My name is Zack,” he snapped.

I laughed again. “I remember your name, it’s just that you remind me of a certain type of person.”

He bit his lip and I just knew that he was dying to ask me more. My body was now fully awake, and I needed to go to the bathroom. Shoving him out of the way I scrambled off the bed and made a mad dash to the bathing chambers.

The moment I sat down I groaned with relief.

“What are you doing in there?” his voice was back to being horrified.

“I am not tickling the ivories, John Boy, I just had to pee.”

“That is disgusting.”

I heard him loud and clear through the door. When I was finished I pushed it open and went to wash my hands. I loved the way their dryers could have my wet hands dry in seconds. And the showers, dear merciful heaven, the showers were to die for.

After I had cleaned up, I noticed that Zack was watching me with a frown on his face.

“What?” I looked down to see if I had forgotten my pants or something.

“Where did you get that scar?” he pointed to the back of my calf where there was a jagged scar that hadn’t healed well.

I shrugged, “It doesn’t really matter.”

I went to move around him, but Zack stepped into my path, “Where?”

Obviously, he wasn’t going to let up until I told him. And honestly, what did I care if he knew? It wasn’t like Zack meant anything to me. Sure, he helped save my life by imprinting with me, but then again, he left me with the Queen of Trash as well.

I went over to my bed and climbed back in. “A man thought he needed my bed more than I did.”

Zack gaped, “A man climbed into your room and attacked you?”

I could feel my body start to relax again. “No, I wasn’t in a room.”

“Where were you?”

I opened an eye. “Does it really matter?”

Zack gritted his teeth, “It does to me.”

I yawned, “I had a good spot out of the wind and it was warm, there had to be heating duct or something on the inside of the building. It was one of the few alleys that didn’t have a garbage dumpster, which wasn’t a selling point, believe it or not. Those things can be the difference between life and death in the winter. Anyhow, he sliced my leg with a broken bottle. I couldn’t tell if he was crazy, high, or just desperate. But honestly, it didn’t really matter. I wasn’t about to give up my spot. I was close enough where I could still get to the hospital for my appointments. They didn’t know I was homeless, or maybe they did and just didn’t say anything?”

“What appointments?” Zack said hoarsely, but I didn’t want to talk about that anymore.

“Go away and let me sleep,” I grumbled burying myself in the covers.

“Chloe, what appointments?”

“For cancer, it’s what killed me, or at least it was supposed to. Night, Zack.”

He wasn’t leaving. I felt him sit down again on my bed. But I was tired and needed more sleep, so I drifted off, hoping to find that sunny beach once again.

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