Sympathy for the Devil

Chapter One

Davis reminded Chloe of a dog. The way he paced the hotel room, finishing the small floor in two strides. The way he withdrew, tail in between his legs, after he did something that didn't please her. And the undying loyalty to her, underneath the lurking savage..

Okay, so maybe Davis reminded Chloe of a rabid dog.

Chloe watched as he stood by the window, pulling the curtains just enough to peek an eye through, letting the sharp rays of the sunrise fill the room. He was vigilant, she'd give him that. He was a watchdog, a prison guard, a bodyguard; but sometimes she wondered if he was just as much guarding against outsiders as he was making sure that what was already in, stayed in.

"Chloe." Davis, calling her name, pulled her out of musings. He stood at the window; the curtains now back in place, looking at her with worried eyes.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off gently, "I'm fine, Davis, you can go back to watching the monsters through your peep hole, stop worrying." He looked at her like he didn't believe her, but chose to leave her alone, turning back to his post.

"I don't know what you're looking for anyway," She said, pretending to flip the channels nonchalantly. "The last place they'd expect us to be is in Rinky Dink, North Carolina."

Davis moved away from the window reluctantly and came to sit beside her. "The feds have their ways Chlo', you know this better than anyone.." He put his hand on top of hers on the mattress. She pulled away, using her thirstiness for an excuse to not make contact. She took a sip of the cold coffee on the bed stand. The temperature failed to register.

Davis sighed and turned off the TV.

"Chloe, is this still about the man in Florida? I said I was sorry-" Chloe felt the nausea begin to rise in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that was all too familiar. She suppressed it, or added to it, she wasn't sure- drinking more of the cold substance.

"No Davis. Accidents happen, I get it." She repeated this mantra, not really registering what her heart was screaming.

Like hell she got it! The day she understood why she couldn't leave him alone for one day without him going on a rampage and killing two cops, brutally, she would cease to be Chloe Sullivan.

But he did. He killed the two cops patrolling the seedy hotel, and they had fled in the opposite direction everyone had suspected. The news flashed with updates on the Davis Bloome murders, suspecting that he'd fled to Mexico, and North Carolina seemed just close enough to throw everyone off their trail.

"I just couldn't control myself Chlo', I regret it so much.." His painfully human eyes bore into her own, and she felt the iceberg that was once her heart melt tentatively.

She cupped the side of his face with her hand and watched him melt into her touch. He leaned forward to kiss her slowly. The urge to explode lapped around in her belly, and she pulled away as inconspicuously as she could.

This, however, didn't fool Davis. His eyes clouded over with a combination of worry and impatience, and she suffered a smile for him. He shook his head and opened his mouth, undoubtedly to bring up the Florida murders again.

"Stop Davis, I don't want to talk about Florida anymore.. or New Mexico, or Texas. Three accidents," She downed the rest of the bitter coffee, "in three years is better than we expected." Her insides screamed out. They began to claw and tear, shouting words that Chloe didn't want to acknowledge.

All three accidents had been recently. Five people had been murdered by the beast within Davis Bloome, the same beast that had seemed tamed, in the past three weeks. All of the other weeks, the many days and hours and minutes of the good days, had ceased to matter when Chloe walked in on the maid, torn to shreds in the New Mexican hotel. That had been the first, followed by two more in the Texan gas station, and the two cops in Florida.

Chloe had been able to fool herself for the past three years when Davis was good. She'd been able to pretend that they were a normal couple, despite his obsession for her and her love for another man, but she'd been able to make believe that they weren't on the run. Sure, they picked up and left every few weeks, but that would settle down eventually right? And maybe one day, one day she could contact Clark and Jimmy..

But after the accidents she put these dreams aside, and a part of her died with those dreams.

She broke out of her musings and turned to Davis, who was sleepy soundlessly on the bed. She could hand that to Davis, when he slept, boy..he slept.

Reaching under the nightstand, she pulled out her purse, and then a smaller bag out of that one. She accidentally pulled out a square card, and realized it was the cleaning service card from New Mexico. A wave of vomit that couldn't be suppressed hit her full force, and she sprinted quietly to the bathroom, purse and bag in hand.

She barely made it to the toilet in time before she retched. She reached out her hand and turned on the shower, glancing back at Davis who had stirred slightly, and then closed the bathroom door. She sat up against it and let the tears fall. She opened the smaller bag and glanced at the box. She emptied the contents of her purse on the hard, unfeeling tile beside her. The signs stared back at her, daring her to disagree.

Chloe shook her head and dropped the box. Why bother? She'd taken five already.

She didn't need another plus sign to tell her what she didn't want to know.

She was pregnant.

She was pregnant with Davis Bloome's child.

She was pregnant with the baby of a murderer.