With a speed I didn’t know I still possessed, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Desperation filled me. I need him. Craved closeness and comfort. With him in my hold, I dragged him onto the bed beside me.
I tried to tell him thank you for being there, but nothing came out. My voice was just another casualty of the day; the intense sobs for the loss of my father had stolen it away.
Clay twisted us until he was on his back with his arms cradling my waist, and his hands were crossed at the small of my back. Resting my chest against his, his fingers trailed across the bare skin at the base of my spine. My body melted against his and my tears fell in earnest as my grief found a fresh outlet. He kissed the top of my head and sighed. As he held me tight, his tears mingled with mine.
My head rested against his shoulder, my nose brushing against the curve of his neck, and I pressed my knee between his thighs. Curled in his arms, I laid with him until all of my tears were spent.
If it had been anyone else, I might’ve been embarrassed by my outburst and weakness. Not with Clay, though. With him, it was easy to give this part of myself—my weakness—to him.
To be cared for, safe, and not alone.
I HAD NO idea how long I’d spent curled against Clay’s side, but the dull sunlight of an overcast day was peeking around the curtains when I next became aware of anything. Uncertain of exactly what I was doing, but needing to force my grief away somehow, I pressed my lips against his collarbone.
“Evie?” he questioned, his voice gruff from his own tears and lack of sleep.
I twisted in his arms and moved my lips to his. He tasted of salt and sorrow as I pressed my tongue into his mouth.
In response to my kiss, his hands trailed the length of my spine and into my hair. His fingertips rubbed gentle circles against my scalp. A fresh round of tears build within me.
I fought them off by deepening the kiss.
His other hand traced along the outside of my thigh, brushing life and sensitivity into my numb skin. His mouth was hungry and wanting as it devoured my sorrow. I moved to straddle his lap, but he flipped us before I could.
Almost instantly, his lips were back on mine as he rested his weight over me, with his hands on either side of the pillow under my head. He pulled away as if to ask me something, and I saw the ravages the previous day and night had done to him. I’d been so consumed by my own grief, I’d forgotten about the gash across his cheek and the bruise that ran the length of his face. In addition, a myriad of bruises trailed the length of his arms, crisscrossed in places by tiny cuts. Dark black circles ringed around his eyes adding to his sorrowful appearance. I wanted to kiss away his pain and let him take mine from me.
Resting his weight down onto one elbow, he used his free hand to brush the hair back off my face. He seemed to regard me carefully, as if only just seeing me for the first time. A frown crossed his features, and suddenly he’d pulled himself into a sitting position. I followed him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
“Evie, wait,” he said, grabbing my hand to pull it away from him.
I wasn’t so easily deterred though, instead continuing to press my lips over the stubble on his jawline. I placed my hand behind his head and dragged him closer to me.
“Please don’t,” he said with a sadness I didn’t understand.
“Kiss me,” I whispered.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I pressed my finger against his lip. “Don’t think. Just feel.” My hands pushed up the bottom of his tee, but he brushed me off and pulled away.
“Evie,” he growled.
“Please, Clay?”
“I can’t, I just . . . I can’t.” He left the bed completely, dragging himself from the comfort of my arms and pacing the room in front of me.
“What is it?” I asked as I tugged the T-shirt I wore lower to cover myself, without him pressed against me I was suddenly aware of how little I had on. Something had shifted in the last few minutes, and I didn’t understand what.
“I don’t know how to say this.” His hand scrubbed the back of his neck with such ferocity that I thought he might tear away his skin. It was almost as if he thought he could erase the day if he rubbed hard enough. “I thought we could make this thing work between us, but I was wrong.”
“What are you saying?” Despite my desire to sound casual, my voice caught in my throat, and my fingers shook.
“I didn’t want to do this just yet,” he murmured and then looked at me before groaning and turning away. “But I can’t go on like this. Being here with you, like this, your kisses . . . Your body . . . It all just makes me want to take you in my arms and never let go.”
“Then do that,” I said. “It works for me.”
“I can’t stay. Not after yesterday. Everything that happened, it was my fault.” He choked on the words as they rushed from him. “I can’t let that happen to you. I won’t.”
“Is this about what I said?” I asked. My memories of the last twenty-four hours were fuzzy at best, but I recalled my desire to make him hurt.
“No. Yes. But it’s not for the reason you’re probably thinking.”
“Then why?” My voice was so quiet in my own ears, I was certain he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the drumming of my heart.
“Being here with you, it isn’t my place in the world.”
“I don’t care about the world,” I growled. “I didn’t think you did either?”
“I do, Evie. At least, I do now.”
“Why? I thought I was important to you? More important than any of that stuff,” I challenged. Everything was going wrong and it seemed as though he had one hand on the door. Despite having already cried myself dry, my eyes stung with the threat of a fresh bout. He couldn’t come into my life, turn it all around in a week, and then leave again as if nothing had happened.
“You are. So important,” he said, his own tears stealing away his voice. “If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be leaving. I can’t see you hurt because of me.”
A sob escaped me as he said the last word. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
He covered the distance between us in less than one of my racing heartbeats and pulled me into him again. “I know it doesn’t, but I can’t explain it better. Yesterday . . . God, Evie, I thought you were dead. And your father . . . It’s my fault. All of it. If I hadn’t tried to find you . . .”
I closed my eyes and held him tighter. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t go.”
“I have to. My family, they expect me to go with them. If I don’t they’ll come back for me. They’ll try again and again to find me. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but if I stay it’s as if I was putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger.”
“You won’t hurt me,” I said. It was something I’d almost meant when I’d said it a week ago, but now I had no doubt it was true.
“I won’t, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be safe with me either. I was a fool for thinking that I could ever escape my past. Too many people know me. Anyone from the Rain could recognize me and report that they’d seen me. I can’t save you from that.” He gasped for air and raked both hands roughly through his hair. “Don’t you understand? I’m not strong enough to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“I know you don’t. You’re so strong, Evie, strong enough to do this on your own. I know you are. That’s the reason I have to leave. My being here with you, it’s only put you in more danger. I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, and he fell to his knees is front of me. His eyes were glazed and red as he glanced up at me. “I can’t be the reason you die too,” he said in a broken whisper.
“So that’s it?” I said, turning away from his sorrow. “I’ve just lost my father. I’ve lost everything! And you choose this moment to leave? You turned my life upside down and you’re just going to leave me here alone?”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I promise I’ll make this right someday. I just . . .” He swallowe
d audibly, “I don’t know how.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked. Despite my earlier assertion that I didn’t need protection, I didn’t really know how to survive without my father either. He’d tried so hard to infuse all of his knowledge in me, teaching me the same lessons time and time again, but there were still a number of massive gaps in my own knowledge. I’d always promised myself I’d learn more and planned to listen better “one day.” I choked on the fact that there wouldn’t be a one day anymore.
Clay pressed his hand against my cheek, but I pulled away from his touch. He curled his fingers into his palms before standing and forcing his fists into his pockets. “I don’t know, but I know you’ll figure it out.”
I wanted to scream and rant at him. To tell him he couldn’t do this to me. It was all too overwhelming though. My heart splintered a little more with each step he took toward the door.
The air between us was heavy and strained, enforcing the growing distance that loomed ever closer. The weight of it seemed to spur him into action, and he walked away from me. He stopped briefly to glance back at me before grabbing his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder.
I couldn’t let him have the last word. “You said that you might as well have put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger,” I murmured. “Well, you know what?”
I waited until his feet had stilled, and I could be sure he was listening.
“It would have been kinder if you’d just killed me.”
He roared loudly and smashed his fist into the wall as the words I’d issued with every intention of inflicting pain hit their mark. I yelped with fear and shrunk away from his outburst.
Resting his fist against the dent he’d left in the drywall, he took a few deep breaths until he gained control over himself again. “I’ve left all of my cash and there are some clothes for you in that bag.” Without looking back at me, he nodded his head in the direction of a brand-new bag resting against the wall. “The room is paid for until Wednesday morning,” he murmured as he reached for the door handle.
“And then I’m on my own.” Completely alone.
He held his hand on the doorframe and, for a moment, it seemed like he was going to change his mind and stay, but then he nodded. “One day, it might be safe for us. When that day comes, I’ll find you.”
“Don’t bother,” I said as I curled into a ball on the bed. “One day” was a lie we told ourselves to make up for our inaction. I understood that now. I’d never know whether or not he heard me though because the moment the words left my mouth, the door slammed shut. The loud bang was the sound that finally broke through the dam restraining my tears.
I rushed from the bed and ran to the door, kicking it in frustration as the tears streamed from my eyes. Clenching my fingers into a tight fist, I copied Clay’s earlier action, smashing my fist into the same spot he’d hit. Over and over, I punched the one reminder of Clay left in the room. My fingers grew numb, and then the familiar burn flickered across my skin.
“Damn you!” I screamed.
I continued my assault on the room until there was a knock on the door.
With tear-soaked eyes, I ripped it open, expecting to see an apologetic Clay on the other side.
Instead, it was the manager on duty warning me that if the noise didn’t cease I would be ejected from the premises. Once she’d left, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Seconds later, I slid to the ground, consumed by the sorrow of losing both of the men in my life in such a short time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE MOTEL manager had to threaten to call the cops before I finally left the room on Wednesday afternoon, hours after the check-out time. After taking just one change of clothes—a T-shirt, hoodie, and a pair of jeans—I left the backpack Clay had bought for me behind. I assumed he’d left it for me as penance. That it was supposed to somehow be his repentance. He didn’t deserve that. He hadn’t earned it. His actions, the way he’d forced his way into my life and heart just to leave me alone in my desperation, made me hate him as much as I’d once loved him.
How could he leave when I needed him the most?
The one consolation I had was that he hadn’t taken advantage of my desires before leaving. I could only imagine how much more I would hate us both if that had happened.
The only other thing I took from the hotel room was the cash that Clay had left. I hadn’t wanted to, but I didn’t have the survival instinct Dad had possessed. Only fragments of information had stuck with me, and the thought of doing some of the things he’d done in order to survive, made my stomach twist. I wasn’t cut out for a life of crime; it was part of the reason I had rallied so hard to get the part-time job that I’d had. The job that had allowed Clay to find me.
The simple fact was I’d thought I would have Dad for years to come. I could only hope the pieces of knowledge I had gained would be enough to keep me alive.
Even though I shouldn’t have, I returned to the place that Dad and I had called home for a few short weeks.
It was nothing like I’d expected it to be.
I’d envisioned the twisted, blackened mess I’d seen just a few nights before, but it wasn’t. The cleanup was already in full effect—it was almost as if the house had never existed in the first place. I wondered whether the Rain were instrumental in getting things resolved quicker than they usually would be.
Despite the fact that the charred remains were gone, I gagged as if smoke still filled the air. It didn’t hold any solace or peace for me, just the bitter memory of Clay’s promises and betrayals.
Finding no peace, I turned away and headed to the only other place in Charlotte that I needed to see before I left town for good. It would be just as unsettling for me, but I couldn’t force myself to leave Charlotte without going there first.
An hour and a half later, I stood in front of the warehouse where Clay and I had spent seven days living someone else’s life—one where we could be happy and have each other. I couldn’t bring myself to go any closer than the broken fence. When I turned to leave, knowing that I could find no comfort inside the crumbling walls. A single magnolia lay on the ground with a ribbon tied around it.
Certain that the flower was intended for me, even though the thought broke my heart all over again, I bent to pick it up. A tiny scrap of paper was hidden beneath the ribbon listing a cemetery name and a plot number. My knees buckled as it dawned on me that Clay had arranged for my father to have a proper burial. It was impossible for him to have organized it all so quickly though, not unless the Rain helped him somehow. I desperately wanted to go visit the site and see whether my suspicions were correct. I couldn’t risk it if there was Rain involvement though.
It was bound to be a trap. Even if Clay had organized it all, and had intended to give this to me as a parting gift, there was no way his family, or someone else in the Rain, wouldn’t have corrupted it. Even if Dad hadn’t told me enough about their underhanded tactics, I’d seen it with Louise. Hadn’t Clay said she’d promised him two days? If it was impossible for Clay to trust his own family, how could I trust that Dad’s funeral plot was untainted?
I doubted Clay had taken my comment that it would have been kinder if he’d just killed me to heart to set it up. If he had, I wouldn’t still be walking. He’d known where I was the whole time.
I’d meant it when I’d said it.
I still meant it. The pain of death would have nothing on the perpetual ache that resided deep within my chest after losing everything important to me. That didn’t mean I wanted death though.
On the contrary, death would have been an easy choice for me but it would add nothing more than insult to my father’s memory. I didn’t know the details of his death. Asking the how’s had seemed so unimportant in the face of everything. My father had tried for so long to keep me safe. His death would’ve somehow ensured my survival. I was certain of it.
Knowing that the piece of paper in my hands with the details of his cemetery plot would always be a
draw for me, a piece of bait to lead me to whatever trap the Rain had laid, I forced heat into my fingers and watched as the flames took away the danger.
If only the pain could be burned away as easily.
EACH NEW day on the road became harder rather than easier.
After weeks alone, the minutes and hours melded together in an empty blur. Every night as I tried to sleep, I thought that the pain had to lessen eventually. Each morning when I woke from a fitful rest, the same agony dripped from my broken heart and the same dark circles looped my eyes.
The worst thing was that even though I was so careful about where I stayed and what I bought the money Clay had left for me seemed to disappear all too quickly. I only stayed in the cheapest motels and ate once a day, but it didn’t help.
Within two months, I was homeless, penniless, and utterly alone.
Not long after the money ran out, I was nearly arrested. Two officers spotted me wandering down the side of a state highway. One of them gave me a warning about the dangers of hitchhiking, but the other just stared at me. His withering stare and hawkish eyes sent my heart racing.
His gaze jumped between where my hair was secured in a ponytail and my eyes. I tried to avoid meeting his gaze, but he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. A slow smile spread across his face. It was the devilish grin of a predator. I was certain he understood more about my nature than any normal person could.
He could only have been a Rain operative, or at least working alongside them.
While he had me pinned in his gaze, the other officer found an open warrant for my arrest over a murder charge. My throat constricted as I learned I’d been framed for my father’s death forced its way into my mind. As if losing him in the first place wasn’t bad enough.
When the officer with the beady eyes and eager stare pulled out his handcuffs, one thing became clear. If I allowed myself to go with them, I would never be coming back. There would be no trial, just a swift execution.
Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire Book 1) Page 9