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“Will you leave so I can take my bath?”

“Chloe, I’m worried about you. I think you need my help.”

She shrugged away from my touch and made her way to the bathroom counter and leaned against it. I saw how she avoided looking at herself in the mirror. I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. How couldn’t I?

She stiffened.

“What are you doing?” she asked softly.

“I’m giving my friend a hug. She needs one.”

“Stop.”

I turned her so we were looking at one another.

“You scared me, Chloe.”

“I’m fine. After my bath you’ll see everything is good and you can go.”

“Not going to happen.”

Finally, I got a hint of a smile. “You’re repeating yourself.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. “You need to leave now. I can’t handle you here, either. You’re as intrusive as family.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I stroked my hand up her too delicate back, then I bent and brushed my nose against hers. “I’m not going to peek, but I’m leaving the bathroom door open a little so you can call out if you need me.”

“You need to leave. Please leave, I’m begging you.” I knew I was making her feel desperate, but I preferred any kind of emotion, even that, as opposed to the flat nothingness that she kept falling back into.

“Now who is the one repeating themselves? Use some moisturizer and some lip balm. Take care of my girl.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

I grinned when she used the phrase from our past.

“I might not be the boss of you, but I’m older and bigger. Now move your tushie.” I waited to make sure she was stable as she moved to turn on the water in the tub. I would have done it myself, but I wanted to judge her ability. Damn, she was thin, and she wasn’t moving with her normal grace.

“Use bubbles.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Put bubbles in your bath. I’m going to bring in something for you to eat and drink. I figure you’ll want some semblance of modesty.”

She gave me a considering look, then nodded. I guessed she was done arguing with me for the moment. Now for the sister that was going to require a fight.

Chapter Three

Zarek

Getting rid of Zoe had taken twenty precious minutes when I could have been making food for Chloe.

I took one look at the contents of her fridge and realized I should have packed a bio-hazard suit. Good God, what had she been eating? I kicked myself for not getting the take-out from Zoe’s car. What a dumbass.

I looked around and found that half of the Solo cups had oatmeal residue and plastic spoons. Before I started any kind of food preparation, I went to check on her.

“Chloe, I’m coming in,” I warned her as I pushed open the door.

I saw her dark head, with her eyes at half-mast above a mound of bubbles. She’d taken me at my word. She looked up.