If she hadn’t already killed him, I’d be doing it myself. I can’t let it consume me. I need to focus on helping her in any way I can.
Clara is the person I’ve wanted for so damn long. I must prove to her she is worth everything to me and help her reclaim her self-worth. Love doesn’t heal everything, but having someone in your corner could help.
“It’s not just Ryan. I’ve been fighting since I was little. Maybe there isn’t a point of me living anymore when I can’t even escape the cycle of abuse. I was euphoric while I tortured him, but now I feel like a broken shell.”
“Bodies are a funny thing. They react in ways we don’t want them to. I can’t speak to your past, but your future is whatever you want it to be. You need rest. Do you want ice for your eye?” I finish rinsing her hair and stand to get her towels for when she’s ready to leave the bath.
“No, it’s fine. Can you help me out?”
I glance over my shoulder and swallow the lump in my throat.
She’s so fucking strong, gorgeous, and forbidden to me. With the towel around her, I pull her close and envelop her in a hug. I want nothing more than to put her broken pieces back together with my hands, but know it won’t work. My desire wraps me in guilt.
She needs to heal and find her own path in life before giving me a chance I don’t really deserve.
“Let’s get you into bed,” I whisper. Pressing my hand on her lower back, I guide her to the bedroom.
“My clothes are downstairs, but I can’t go back there.”
Spinning around, I open my closet and pull out a gym T-shirt. I hand it to her without turning around and she slips it on.
As I walk toward her, my gaze sweeps over her body. She’s stunning in my shirt. Need bubbles within me, but I ignore it. “I’ve got to go make some calls and clean up, but I want you to rest.”
Once she’s under the covers, I lower to kiss her head. “It’s gonna be alright, Clara. I’ve got you.”
She grips the front of my shirt, and her green eyes stare at me. “Can you stay? At least until I fall asleep.” She glances away, like the question is too much to ask for.
“Of course. Move over.”
She scooches, making room for me, and I slide under the covers and wrap my arm around her shoulders. Clara rolls against me and lies her head against my chest. Her hair wets my shirt, and I stroke her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Burke, I’ll try to figure something out in the next couple of days to get out of your hair.”
The crack in her voice breaks a part of me. I aim to protect her from her own thoughts and the shards of past trauma that rip her up. It’s the least I can do for not saving her sooner.
Hell, if I could have sent her away to school like I asked her a few years ago, this might have avoided the deep trauma she’ll have to work through.
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t lying when I said I’m here. My word stands.” I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head. I stroke her hair until she falls asleep, then convince myself to ease out of the bed.
Once I get to the kitchen, walking over the wooden floor, I pull out a burner phone from a drawer and call my guy. “I know it’s late, but we never call early.”
His light laugh is forced. “Be there in fifteen. Clean-up crew?” Curt asks.
“Yeah, it’s a pretty gruesome sight. I’ll be waiting.” I glance at the dark grey kitchen walls, end the call, and put away the phonebefore walking out to the garage to wait. Grabbing some of my cleaning supplies, I tinker around in here until headlights pull into the driveway.
Opening the garage door, Curt backs his dark car in. After he turns it off, he steps out of the car. His dark tee clings to his muscles, and he grunts instead of looking at me before popping the trunk and pulling out gear for us to wear.
“Never had a house call before. What’s up?”
Pulling on the lookalike hazmat suit, I put the gloves in my pocket. “Ryan. Turns out he’s into beating women.”
Curt stops fucking with stuff in the trunk and moves at a slow pace before looking in my direction. “He dead?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, ‘cause if you didn’t handle it, I would’ve.” Curt hands me a bag and grabs another before closing the trunk.
“Well, I didn’t, either. She did.” I direct him through the doors, and we head to the gruesome scene.
