Breaking the Cycle by Tricia Andersen Page B

didn’t wait to hear more. He leapt up the stairs as his heart slammed in his chest. Lord, please no…
    He found his worst nightmare lying on the bathroom floor. Chloe was unconscious, slumped on the fluid-covered tile. Her chest didn’t rise and fall. Her perfect lips were tinged blue.
    “Chloe!” Max fell to the floor as he scooped her into his arms. He couldn’t breathe himself. He whacked her across the back in panic. She lay limp against him. He smacked her again, cringing at the hollow sound of his hand hard against her back. She coughed violently. Her breath escaped in thready gasps.
    Max felt his own throat constrict as tears burned his eyes. “Liz!” he shouted. “Call 9-1-1!”
    “I did, Max! They’re on their way!”
    He held Chloe tight against him, feeling for every shallow lungful. His nerves quaked in terror. Everything he had ever wanted in his life, almost gone forever. And it’s my fault. I did this.
    Max looked up as the paramedics swarmed the bathroom. His eyes pleaded with them for help as they took Chloe from his arms. He kneeled in the cold vomit long after they had disappeared with her down the stairs. Slowly, he rose and stiffly walked to his room. He peeled the soiled pants and T-shirt from his chiseled body then tugged on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt.
    Without a word, he wheeled Liz to his car and helped her inside. A quick glance at his cell phone confirmed what he had hoped. Chloe was now in Mark’s care. He slumped into the driver’s seat as a knot grew in his stomach.
    The hospital emergency room was eerily quiet. Max hunched over his knees, his elbows digging into his thighs as he rested his forehead against his folded palms. Liz sat beside him in her wheelchair. She stared at the wall ahead of her, her complexion nearly as white as her cotton shirt. He clenched his eyes as he felt every nerve in his body shake.
    He didn’t look up as Liz spoke. Her voice cracked with each word. “I’m going to call and schedule my therapy tomorrow. I need out of this chair.”
    Max bristled. He wanted to lash out at her. Had she just recognized what I did and not condemned it, we wouldn’t be here. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He bit his tongue. Literally. He didn’t need to crucify her for what she had said. She was crucifying herself. Just like I’m doing right now.
    “Max. Liz.”
    Max instinctively rose to his feet. His thundering heart rushed the blood through his veins, creating a whoosh in his ears. He swallowed hard then forced a half smile at Mark. He had never seen the big man dressed for work before. Max was surprised they made a medical coat that fit Mark’s frame. The thigh length coat covered a blue, button-down dress shirt and khaki pants.
    Max fought to find his voice. “Mark…”
    “We have Chloe on oxygen. She’s going to have to stay a few days. She’ll probably develop pneumonia. However, I talked to Chad. Since she’s going to be here, we’re going to run those tests he wants. Hopefully, Chloe will leave with a diagnosis and treatment. These things,” Mark waved his hand in the direction of the ER, “have to stop.”
    “How can you run those tests? She almost…” Max’s voice faded. It hurt too much to think about. He certainly couldn’t say it.
    “We’ll wait until she’s stronger.”
    “Is she awake?” Liz squeaked.
    “Not yet.” Mark glanced briefly at the chart in his hand. “They’ve taken her upstairs to settle her into her room. I’ll take you both up to see her.”
    Mark slapped the thick folder against Max’s chest then took the reins of the wheelchair. He pushed Liz into the corridor toward the elevators as Max watched them, dumbfounded. Then, he jogged to catch up, meeting them just as they stepped into the elevator.
    Mark dutifully pushed Liz’s wheelchair to the doorway of Chloe’s room. Absentmindedly, she gripped the wheels and maneuvered herself inside, leaving the men behind in the hall. Max sighed. Liz