She’d put the one she bought him in the same spot.
He took his phone off the pad and looked at the screen.
His dad was calling.
“It’s early,” Chloe whispered, staring at his screen, seeing the time.
At any given moment, Jameson Oakley knew what time it was in pretty much every corner of the world.
He wouldn’t mistakenly call at six-thirteen on a Sunday.
He wouldn’t call at all that early on a Sunday.
Unless something was up.
He turned his gaze to Chloe, took the call and put the cell to his ear.
“Hey, Dad,” he greeted warily.
“Judge,” Jamie Oakley said, his voice heavy.
No.
Weighty.
Christ, it weighed so much, some of it landed on Judge.
He’d heard his dad sound like that once.
When Rosalind had passed away.
Judge turned onto his back, pushing up on the pillows against the headboard, hauling Chloe with him.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Chloe wrapped her arm around him, held tight and pressed close.
Zeke moved from the foot of the bed and pressed close too, on Judge’s other side.
“Son…shit.”
Judge sat up straighter, gut twisting, hoping like fuck whatever this was, it was not about Dru.
Zeke’s head popped up.
“What’s happened, Dad?” he demanded.
“Last night…yesterday…they found her.” An audible sound of a forceful blown-out breath as Judge held his own on the word “her.” “Goddamn it, son, a friend of your mom’s found her last night. She’d overdosed. She was, I’m so sorry, Judge, by the time anyone got to her, she was already gone.”
Judge didn’t move.
“Judge?”
Judge said nothing.
“Judge!” That was sharper, authoritative, meant to be heard and obeyed.
He stayed still.
His phone was slipped from his hand and he heard, “Mr. Oakley? This is Chloe Pierce, Judge’s girlfriend.” Pause and, “Yes, that’s right. What’s happened?”
He felt her jolt against him when she heard the news, felt her push up farther.
Then she said, “Okay, right. What now?” Pause and then, “Yes. You’ve sent a plane? Okay. Yes.” Pause and, “No, can they divert? He’s in Phoenix.” A shorter pause and, “We’re in Phoenix.” Another and, “Yes. Thank you. Yes. I’ll handle it. He’s…reacting right now. I’ll get him to call you when he’s had some time to let this sink in.” One last pause, “All right. Of course. We’ll see you soon. Thank you.”
Then there was a clatter of phone to nightstand, and she was straddling him, his face in her hands.
“Baby, you with me?” she called.
She’d overdosed.
“Judge, honey, are you with me?”
She was already gone.
“Judge, darling, you’re worrying me.”
“I assume I’m required to attend the funeral?” he asked.
She blinked.
Then she said, “Yes.”
“Dad’s sent his plane?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Erm…yes. I…of course. He’s meeting us there. In Dallas.”
“Right,” he muttered. “I’m all she’s got so I should probably sort that shit.”
He then lifted her off him, tossed the covers from his legs, and knifed out of bed.
Zeke jumped off with him and followed, close to his heels.
He was in the bathroom preparing to use the toilet with Zeke as his witness when she arrived.
“Baby, I’m about to take a piss,” he told her.
They spent a lot of time together, and it wasn’t like they closed the door anymore when that went down, but she didn’t tend to keep him company, and vice versa.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Sure, though I’d be better if I could empty my bladder.”
She hung on that a beat before she nodded and made a kissing noise to Zeke.
In the past months, Zeke had defected to his beloved Chloe. Judge didn’t mind, he totally got that.
But now, Zeke wasn’t moving.
“C’mon, baby,” she cajoled, “Daddy needs some privacy.”
It took a second, but when Zeke looked up to Judge and he jutted his chin toward Chloe, his dog trotted to her, and they both walked out of the room.
He did his thing, including brushing his teeth, and when she came back, he was in the bedroom, having pulled out his overnighter that he’d left there and hadn’t touched for weeks. He hadn’t because he didn’t use it much anymore. After she made the herculean effort to clear a couple feet of space out of her closet and a drawer and a half, he’d packed heavy a few times and left a bunch of shit at her house.
She had two mugs of coffee in her hands and no Zeke. This meant she’d either fed his pup and he was busy scarfing, or she let him out in her small back yard. Food or outdoor time were the only things that kept Zeke out of Chloe’s sphere, or Judge’s.
Her eyes went to the bag on the bed.
She came to him.
He took the coffee, also a sip.
She said, “I’ll call Rix and ask him to stop by your place and bring one of your suits when he comes. You don’t have one here. But you do have one, yes?”
“Rix?” he asked.
“Yes. Rix.”
“What do you mean, when he comes?”
She stared at him.
And hesitantly, she said, “When he comes to Dallas. For you.”