Page 7 of Journey To Sunrise

She was starting to cry in earnest. I got up out of my side of the table and slipped in beside Zoe. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

“It shouldn’t have been anyone,” I whispered softly.

“You know she’s a better person than I am.”

“You’re both wonderful. Neither of you is better than the other, you’re both special in your own ways.”

Zoe gave a watery snort and reached for a paper napkin on the table. She blew her nose.

“God, it couldn’t be any more obvious that you think Chloe’s the bomb and I’m not.” She tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her go. When I saw Pearl make another pass with the plates, I shook my head again. She tipped her chin and made a motion indicating she would box the food. I nodded.

“Zarek, I don’t know what to do about Chloe. She’s holed up in her house, and she’s getting worse day by day, I just know it. She’s having things like groceries delivered. Trenda and I would have called our brother Drake in from California, but his fiancée, Karen is on bedrest with her pregnancy. We decided to leave him as a last resort.”

I had never met their older brother who was a Navy SEAL. He had already left to join the Navy by the time I’d met Chloe.

“Do you think he would hurt or help the situation?” I asked.

“Normally he’d help, but it would be a shit thing to do to him when he’s so worried about Karen and the baby.”

I could see that. “Zoe, I’ve done some thinking and planning. I want Chloe to come home with me.”

This time, Zoe succeeded in pushing out of my arms.

“What?” Heads turned at Zoe’s loud exclamation.

“From everything you said, she’s suffering from PTSD. She needs care. She’s not making it here. It’s time for a change of environment.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Zoe hissed.

“What’s the definition of insanity?” I asked in a calm voice.

“Huh?”

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. Obviously, what’s been going on here hasn’t been working. I’m taking her home with me,” I said decisively.

“You have no idea what you’re walking into,” she protested.

“Actually, I do. I’ve watched my best friend at the station house suffer from PTSD.”

Luke Larkin worked as an EMT back in Dallas with me. He’d served two tours in Afghanistan as a marine medic, and when he and his unit had been attacked, Luke had been shot and two of his friends had been killed. Ever since he’d been sent stateside, he’d struggled with PTSD. When I’d talked to Luke about the little I knew about Chloe’s situation, my friend had warned me that it was going to be an uphill battle.

I’d explained she was worth it. As soon as I said those words, Luke started putting together lists of local support groups and a short list of psychologists and psychiatrists who could help Chloe in Dallas. He was taking care of my dog, Slayer while I was gone, and he’d also said that he would spruce up my house and have it ready for Chloe’s arrival. Whatever that meant.

God help me.

“She won’t want to go with you willingly. You need a plan,” she said thoughtfully.

“You called me. I’m here. We get to your apartment and deal. That’s the plan.”

“We don’t live together anymore. She rents her own house. So, it’s not going to be as easy as you think.”

“Then we make her come out of her house and deal. Zoe, I didn’t think it would be a cakewalk.”

Pearl came up with two bags of food. I pulled out my wallet.

“How much?”

“It’s on the house,” the redhead told us.