Page 18 of Down Knot Out
Holden
Iwipe down the kitchen counter for what must be the tenth time tonight, my mind wandering as I finish cleaning the last few dishes. It’s late, but my nerves won’t settle.
After dinner, Chloe had vanished back upstairs, and Blake had gone with Quinn to the media room for a movie night. Emily had joined us tonight so she and Nathaniel could go back down to the job site and set up cameras. I don’t know where Dominic vanished to, but the house is too quiet with only the clatter of dishes and the soft hum of the fridge to keep me company.
As I move to the sideboard to box up muffins left over from earlier, I catch sight of Chloe through the front windows. She sits at one of the small, two-person tables on the porch, laptop open in front of her.
The moonlight hits her just right, turning her pink hair into a cascade of silver strands. The glow from the screen highlights the concentration in her face, but it doesn’t mask the tension in her posture. She’s working, but her stillness doesn’t sit right with me.
I set the dish towel down and leave the kitchen, heading toward the door, but before I open it, Dominic’s voice stops me.
“She’s been out there for hours.”
I turn, finding him sitting halfway up the steps, his elbows propped on his knees, and his dark hair loose and spilling over his shoulders. Has he been keeping an eye on her this whole time, ensuring her safety without her knowing?
Dominic shifts, glancing toward the window. “Did she eat?”
“She barely touched her plate.” I rub the back of my neck. “She usually loves pot pie.”
“It’s turning into a pattern.” Dominic rocks on the step, worry tightening his features. “She’s relapsing.”
My gut tightens. The last time Chloe fell into depression, her high school bullies had driven herto the point where she stopped eating or getting out of bed, and she almost died of starvation.
Last week had been rough, but has it gotten to that point? I had hoped her picnic with Nathaniel would brighten her mood. If anything, though, she looked more exhausted when she came down for dinner. Even Quinn noticed. Chloe is keeping secrets again, and I can’t help her unless she opens up.
Dominic doesn’t say anything at first, just stares out the window. “You should talk to her. She’s more open with you.”
I don’t miss the hurt beneath his words, though he tries to hide it. Chloe seemed to be softening toward him. At least, she was, until something spooked her. After Louie’s final attack, we all knew she was having nightmares, but she was still happy and excited to plan for Grady’s arrival. Then, the moment he showed up, everything shifted.
But I don’t think Grady’s the cause. He’s as confused as the rest of us by her sudden change. Over the last week, though, I keep catching her staring off, her brow furrowed with unhappiness.
Is she second-guessing her desire to join our pack? Or is she regretting signing on for the new trilogy in her bestselling fantasy romance? Shehadn’t wanted to write it at first, but she had changed her mind.
There’s no real way to guess what’s causing her disquiet. Chloe’s been through more than most people can handle. And she’s too used to having to deal with everything on her own. After being kicked out of her family pack, it must be so hard for her to believe we’ll never betray her like that.
“Go talk to her,” Dominic huffs, raking his hand through his long hair. “Nothing will change if you keep everything bottled up, just wondering what’s going on. I’d go myself, but I’m the last person she’s going to open up to.”
Squaring my shoulders, I step onto the porch, the cool night air brushing my skin. The lights of the house spill out onto the wooden planks, and the singing of frogs stills for a moment before picking up again to fill the air.
Chloe doesn’t look up, too focused on the screen of her laptop, the soft tap of her fingers on the keys the only sound. She’s working, but it’s obvious it’s more of a distraction than anything. Her eyes are a little too wide, too distant. She’s not really focused on the screen. She’s somewhere else.
“Hey,” I murmur as I approach, trying not to startle her.
Chloe blinks and lifts her head, her expression unreadable. “Hey.”
The distance in her voice tightens my stomach. It’s not the warmth I expect, not the Chloe I’ve been getting to know since she came to Misty Pines.
“You okay?” I crouch in front of her, wanting to touch her but settling for resting my hands on the arm of the chair instead.
Chloe sighs, her focus returning to the screen of her laptop, but her fingers pause. “I’m fine.”
It’s not the first time she’s said that, but I’m not buying it. The words are a shield as she quietly falls apart.
“Chloe.” Unable to stop myself, I touch her arm. “You don’t have to hide from us. We’re not going anywhere. But you need to talk to us.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she gazes out at the trees beyond the porch, the forest stretching out into darkness.
After a long moment, she exhales and closes her laptop, exhaustion in her movement and a level of surrender I’ve never seen from her before. She leans back in her chair, her head turning toward me. “I’m not okay, but it has nothing to do with you or the pack.”
