Burn

Six

Ghost

Days crawls by without a single word from Diane, which, I think, everyone was grateful for. I wouldn't—no, I couldn't—go back home so I hole myself up in Derek's room.

My aunt stops by and tries to bring me back but I can't go, I've kicked and screamed and tried to bite her when she comes to pry me away from the only safe thing I have.

"Chloe," says a deep voice I don't recognize as someone knocks on the door.

I scowl.

Derek looks over his shoulder, away from his computer game, something militaristic. His damp hair's slicked back and drips water down the back of his sweatshirt, leaving damp, dark trail of cold water. His jeans were warm from the drier.

"Chloe," says my aunt in a firm voice, "you need to get out."

"No!" I spit, burrowing myself deeper into Derek's nice-smelling blankets. "You won't make me, right, Derek?" I'm looking up at him with pleading eyes.

He shakes his head. "I want you to be happy and safe, not miserable and vulnerable," he murmurs as he shuts down his computer and walks over to me.

I open up my arms and he crawls close.

"Chloe, Officer Malloy is here," Aunt Lauren presses and then the door shudders.

"What're you doing?" Kit demands as the pounding paused, a brief snippet of conversation and then my aunt snarls, "Your menace of a boy had kidnapped her!"

"No, he hasn't!" I yell before pressing my face into Derek's chest, focusing instead on his hands rubbing up and down my back. He is hot and solid against me, familiar, safe. He won't hurt me.

"My boy is not a menace!" Kit spits. I whimpers and Derek hugs me tighter, cooing in my ear.

I inhale his scent, greedy. He smells clean and hot, like warm skin. If I could, I'd bottle the scent and spray it all over my clothes so I can smell him.

"He's cooped her up in that room!" my aunt argues, "and he won't let her out! He's brainwashed her!" I've never heard my aunt freak out so it's kind of funny; I start to laugh. When I peek over Derek's broad shoulder, my blood runs cold and the laugh dies in my throat.

Royce stands there, next to the window, the scratches healed and scabbing but the gun in his hands gleams like Black Death; illuminated by the window, a ghostly figure. I stutter his name. "Hello, hello, Chloe," he purrs, stepping closer. The floorboards creak under his weight.

Derek whips away from me and snarls; "Stay down!" as he lunges at Royce, tackling him to the ground.

Royce laughs, shooting off a few round into the wall. Plaster falls to the floor.

I scramble for the door and yelp as pain explodes under my eye. Blood oozes down my cheek as another shot grazes my arm.

I fumble with the lock, ducking down as the door shatters into a million splinters. "Royce is here!" I sob as I scrambles away, tears pouring down my cheeks. My face burns.

"Hands up!" yells the lead cop, advancing.

Derek obeys but Royce, being the sneaky bastard he is, throws a brutal uppercut towards Derek and he falls, his nose gushing blood.

"Freeze!" the cop bellows and there's a gleam in Royce's eyes that I don't like.

"Liam, Liam, how nice to see you," laughs my ex, a smile growing across his tanned face.

The cop jolts in surprise. "Turned your life around, haven't you?" he sneers and I shut down all the thoughts of Royce sneering at me.

Tears run down my face as my nose dripps onto my sweatshirt, leaking snot. Blood stains the fabric.

"You married?" he asks suddenly.

Malloy hesitates and Royce's hand whips up.

Malloy's men fire several shots and I start to scream, kicking, crying, as Derek vaults across the bed and shields me.

I cry into his chest and he shushes me, rocking me.

The smell of blood and gunpowder pollutes the air as my aunt screams and screams and calls my name.

I huddle closer to Derek as he kisses the top of my head, stroking my bloody hair. I cry and cry until the smoke and I see a body lying face down on the ground.

"Open a window," calls one of the policemen and the smoke thins.

I spot my aunt staring in horror at the body on the floor as Derek checks over my wounds, worrying about whether or not my cheek will need stitches, if my arm is okay.

"I-I think I'm fine. I-It was just a graze," I murmur, eyes trained on the dead man.

"Who…?" Derek whisper as my eyes focus on the man's hair.

Dark, wavy. Thick. Heavy black seeping from his body, staining the carpet.

I laugh.

Royce isdead.

I sob until I heave and Derek keeps my hair out of the toilet. "S-sorry," I pant between retching heaves. My stomach's empty but I continue to heave, the sight of Royce Banks, thank god, dead rolling in my brain.

"That'll be one hell of a stain to get out," Simon jokes and then, "Ow! What the hell?"

"You made a joke about the man we all just saw get shot!" snaps Aunt Lauren's voice.

Strings of saliva falls from my lips as Derek dampens a washcloth and pats my mouth free of disgusting bile. He pulls my hair into a ponytail as he rubs my back and makes me brush my teeth five times until there isn't a hint of vomit smell and I scrub my face until the skin grows raw.

"He's dead," I laugh softly, turning to Derek with a smile. Tears spill out of my eyes, drip down my face. I wipe my nose on my sleeve.

"Yes, Chloe," Derek murmurs, drawing me closer, his hands solid and warm against my back. His voice vibrates through my entire body when he says my name and it makes me feel fuzzy and warm, nothing like Royce.

"He's gone." I'm grinning now.

The EMTs arrive and clean up the body; Derek moves me into the guest room, which had two beds and a separating wall adjoined with a door, and Aunt Lauren nearly gives herself an aneurism when I announce that I'll be staying with Kit and the gang for a few more days.

"She is traumatized," Tori argues, holding her ground against my aunt, who, surprisingly, backs off.

Derek comes up beside me and his warm, rough hand slides into mine.

Where they belong.