“Brutus, he…” she swallows. “I can’t even say the words.”
I don’t say anything. I wait. I’ll wait forever for this woman.
She sucks in a breath and tries again. “When I was twelve, Daddy had a party downstairs. I was hidden in a secret compartment in the wall, listening. But I got bored so I snuck out and went to bed. I woke up to a noise in my room. My bed creaked and a man climbed on top of me. He pinned me with his knee. He held his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream. He whispered in my ear, ‘Let me show you a man, baby girl’.”
I can’t move.
I can’t breathe.
I remember Brutus saying that to her, over and over, the night we found him here. I remember Claudia screaming at him not to call her that. But I had no idea what it meant and now that I do, I want to resurrect Brutus from the dead so we can kill him all over again.
Death is too kind to him.
But I can’t do that, and I know I can’t do a single damn thing to make this better for her. I’m helpless again, and it’s a terrible feeling. But this isn’t about me. I grip Claudia tighter and I do the only thing I can do right now. I listen.
“After, I found Antony. He helped me get through it. He taught me to be strong, to use my fists so I could never be hurt like that again. I never truly understood what Julian’s over-protectiveness was about until that night. I was Claudia August, and that man brought me to my knees. He took away my power before I even understood what it was. I swore I’d never allow that to happen again.”
She balls her hands into fists. “Baby girl. Brutus wrote that on the note he left on Brentwood’s body. That’s how I knew he was the man in my room.”
“And Nero said it today.”
“That’s right. Brutus probably told him because he knew it would disarm me. Nero said it today to threaten me. I hate it. I hate that he got to me.” She slams her fists onto her knees. “I hate that it’s been years and those two words can still bring me to my knees.”
“You’re Claudia August. Nothing can bring you to your knees.” I hold her and rock her and kiss her head while she thrashes and rages and sobs. I hold her until the tension flees her limbs, until she’s spent all that hurt she’s been holding inside. “Are you sure it wasn’t Nero who did this? It could be the other way around – he told Brutus about that night.”
She shakes her head. “Nero was a big guy even back then. The man without a face was leaner, but strong.”
I lift her face to mine. I kiss the trail of tears along her eyelids. “Not as strong as you.”
“Eli,” she whispers. “I need…”
“I know.” I wish I had the power to take away this memory, to give her only the happy memories she deserves. But that’s not what life is, and this evil that was done to her has made her the woman I love. I know what Icangive her – I can take her hurt and show her how it can be good and beautiful, because she is good and beautiful.
I lay her along the swing. She lays exactly where she was that night when I almost lost her, only this time her eyes fix on mine, and the moonlight dances on her hair, framing her face like a halo. She grips me with both hands while I pull off her dress and g-string. Her skin feels like silk, beautiful and light and impossibly delicate. I’ve never seen Claudia as breakable before.
I bend over her and lap at her swollen clit. Her nails dig into me – as if to let me go is to give up on life. She throws her head back, and it doesn’t take her long to come, her tear-stained cries lost in the vastness of the night.
I pull her into my arms. Dust and sand circles around us, blown up from the remnants of my crumbling legacy. This ranch is just like us – broken and laid to ruin, but still standing, still fighting, still defying.
I undress slowly, taking care with my buttons. Her fingers brush over mine, leaving trails of starlight on my bare skin. Everything about it feels like a dream.
I slide inside her. She’s so hot and warm and needy and perfect. I slide my hand under her neck, pulling her face up so I can kiss away her tears as I thrust inside her. I taste her sorrow. I swallow her pain. I devour the sins that make her who she is. I drink deep of her, but I know I’ll never have my full.
Claudia, Claudia…
Her name is a dream, a ritual that cleanses me and makes me anew. I’m no longer helpless.
In her arms, I am home.
37
Noah
We all gather in the theatre room for a different kind of movie night. George sets up the projector while Gabriel starts the popcorn machine. I bring in a tray of brownies from the kitchen. No one touches them until I give assurances I ordered them fromBread and Circuses.
Ingrates.
My cooking isn’tthatbad.
