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31
‘What the fuck is goingon here?’
Chloe walks around Tate and joins the others in his living room. If first impressions are anything to go by, Tate is less than happy about the ambush, but he doesn’t have a choice. They had found him barely conscious chained to a bed a mere six hours ago. No amount of arguing or pleading had convinced him to stay in hospital for observation.
Apart from a few cuts and bruises, he wasn’t too badly injured so there was no reason to keep him there as much as Chloe would have liked. He looks absolutely terrible. He’s far too pale and can barely hold himself upright.
Then again, it was probably a good idea to get him as far from Dara as possible. His cousin was currently secured to a hospital bed waiting to have his nose reset. Tate had done an impressive job demolishing it. It’s less than he deserved.
Chloe takes a deep breath and faces him. ‘Okay, so we’ve all been talking.’
‘Is that right? I’m guessing about me.’
Dillon crosses his arms and stares over at him from the couch. ‘Hey, shut up and listen to her.’
‘We’re all moving in with you. Just until you’ve over this.’
‘What? You mean like fucking babysitters?’
Gregg snorts loudly. ‘No, you dick. Not like babysitters. We’re going to get you through this as a family. Cause despite your monumental efforts to keep us out of your problems, we are your family and there isn’t a hope in hell you can push us away. So, like Chloe said, we’re all moving into your place. We’ll eat and watch embarrassing 80’s action films. You’re going to rest when you can, then we’ll work out together, go for a walk, go for a drive, take the bikes out, whatever we have to do to keep you distracted. Then, when you’re up for it, we’re going to finish the damn album and get it out there.’
Chloe holds her breath as she watches Tate’s face. There’s no doubt he’s tempted to tell them all where to go, but the fact he hasn’t said it in as many words is a definite plus. For the last few hours he’s been in a foul mood. If he wasn’t biting someone’s head off he was glowering, and both were equally effective. She knows it’s all part of the aftereffects of what Dara gave him and the fact he was craving more, but that didn’t make him any easier to deal with.
Tate eventually sighs and nods. ‘I’m not going to be fun to live with.’
‘When are you ever?’ Luke asks, smiling to soften his words. ‘We want to do this. So, you going to let us?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
Gregg shakes his head. ‘Nope.’
‘Guess there’s no point arguing then.’
∞
Tate wakes suddenly and takes a few seconds to realise he’s in his room in his house. He slowly looks to his left and relaxes when he sees Chloe asleep beside him. It’s hard to believe he started this day chained to a bed in a derelict house and now he’s back in his own house with Chloe. Strangest fucking few days of his life.
He slowly rolls out of bed and creeps into the bathroom, closing the door quietly so he doesn’t wake her. Physically he’s going to be fine which is a relief considering how crap he feels. The two impressive bruises colouring his stomach and his side hurt, the lesions surrounding each wrist are itchy, and the bruise on his cheek complains when he moves his jaw. The worst of the lot is the angry red trail of irritation the length of his arm thanks to the tape Dara used to secure the IV. Removing that had been worse than all the punches combined.
