by Sykes, Julia
I couldn’t look at Clayton as he settled himself in the driver’s seat, and I stared resolutely down at my feet. I was flooded with feelings of terror, resentment, hatred, even. How could he do this to me?
His fingers gripped my chin, turning my head and forcing me to face him. His gorgeous blue eyes were blazing with a furious light as they regarded me censoriously.
“What the fuck are you thinking, Claudia?” He demanded angrily.
“How did you find me?” I asked shakily.
“You have GPS on the phone we gave you. I knew that something was wrong with you, so I tracked you down. But I never imagined that you would be doing something so goddamn stupid and reckless.” He released me, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why, Claudia? Why would you go after Ronan on your own? If you had just helped us, you could have put him away for life. But now I’m going to have to arrest you. Fuck!” His eyes snapped open, glaring at me as he half-shouted the last word.
“Clayton, please.” My voice was ragged, desperate. “He killed my parents. He ruined my life. And Sean’s. Please…”
His brow furrowed. “Why do you think he killed your parents?”
“Sean told me that the gun used to belong to his father,” I explained quickly. “And when I confronted him about it, he figured out that I had been spying on him. Now he hates me. And I’m the reason he’s in jail.” I wanted to hug myself, but my hands just jerked against the cuffs.
Clayton’s eyes softened ever so slightly. “I understand how much you must hate Ronan. But this isn’t the way, Claudia. If you had just trusted me, Sean wouldn’t be in jail and Ronan would have been arrested.”
God, I really had fucked up. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. The words were laughably insufficient to rectify the clusterfuck that I had put myself in. That I had put Sean in.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Clayton said, his voice hard-edged.
“I know,” I whispered.
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “God damn it!” He turned the key hard in the ignition, over-cranking the engine. The cold, hard reality came down on me: he was going to take me to the FBI. This time, he really was going to interrogate me.
I sat beside him in silence, no longer able to look at him. I couldn’t even bring myself to hate him for what he was doing to me. This was all my own doing, and all I felt was self-disgust. I was supposed to be smarter than this. But it seemed that ever since I had met Sean, I had fucked up over and over again as my life crumbled around me. I was self-destructing, spiraling out of control, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I stared out the window, hardly seeing the city passing us by as I retreated into myself. But after a while, it registered with me that we had been driving far too long to be headed to the FBI offices.
“Where are we going?” I asked. I saw Clayton’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, and he grimaced. He didn’t answer me. But it soon became apparent where we were headed: he was taking me home.
What was going on? Hope welled within me at the prospect that he might let me go. Would he really betray the FBI for me? After everything I had done to him? I pursed my lips, holding back further questions. I didn’t want to push him lest he change his mind and turn around.
When we parked up outside my house, a long moment passed before Clayton pried his fingers from the steering wheel and turned to face me. I swallowed hard, but I forced myself to meet his eyes. His expression was closed off, enigmatic.
“Let me see the cuffs,” he said, his voice gruff. I twisted awkwardly in my seat to give him access to them. I couldn’t hold in my sigh of relief when he released me from their cold bite. The feeling of them around my wrists had dredged up memories of the early days of my abduction, of my abuse at Bradley’s hands. It made me recall how Sean had stood up for me, revealing his protective side. Had he been as entranced by me as I was by him even then? Maybe. But I knew that he was goodhearted, and he never would have stood for Bradley hurting an innocent. I felt a pang in my heart as the injustice of what was being done to him struck me all over again. He didn’t deserve to be locked up; he was a good person. And it was all my fault.
Clayton was opening the passenger door for me. I was surprised when he took me by the hand to help me out of the car. He maintained the contact, gripping me gently by the elbow as he walked me to my front door. I was grateful for the support; I was shaking like a leaf.
I paused when I got to the door, remembering that my house keys were in my purse, which was currently on the floorboard of my car. I hoped to hell that no one would break a window to steal it. I didn’t want to have to get new keys, new locks, a new cell, and change my credit cards again. Sighing, I extricated myself from Clayton’s grip and retrieved my spare key that was hidden in an innocent-looking rock beneath my azalea bushes. The beeping of my new alarm system as I entered the house made me jump slightly. I still wasn’t used to it. But it was a necessary precaution. No way was anyone breaking in without the cops being notified. I punched in the code and the shrill warning noise stopped. Clayton followed me into my living room, where he situated himself beside me on my couch. I was grateful that he hadn’t sat in the armchair across from me. Despite the strained atmosphere around us, I found comfort in his closeness. He had proven time and again to be someone I could rely on, who I could trust with my secrets and my grief. And now that I was in his presence once again, it dawned on me just how out of control I had been without him being there to steady me. I should have gone to him as soon as Sean had thrown me out. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.
My hand reached out for his as though of its own accord, seeking his warmth. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath when we touched. He turned his hand so that our palms were pressed together, and his fingers entwined with mine.
“Thank you,” I whispered. When I met his gaze, I found him regarding me seriously, but there was a hint of doubt, of trepidation in his eyes.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself. “We need to talk, Claudia,” he said solemnly. “You need to tell me what you’re going through, explain to me why you decided to go after Ronan on your own. It was dangerous and reckless, and I know you’re smarter than that. Do you know how much danger you’ve put yourself in by forcing me to take my security detail off of you? What if it hadn’t been me who found you in that garage? What if it had been Bradley? What if you had missed and Ronan saw you? He would kill you, Claudia. Even as it is, it’s highly likely that he’ll come after you once he finds out why Sean and Bradley were arrested. You have to let me help you. You have to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” I said quietly. “I know that I fucked up. It’s just… I went a little crazy when I found out that Ronan killed my parents. He ruined my life. He’s the reason I was in foster care, the reason that I’ve been alone for fourteen years. And when Sean threw me out… Oh, god, Clayton. I just couldn’t handle it. I completely fell apart.” I was crying again, and Clayton squeezed my hand reassuringly.
“I can understand that, Claudia. But I wish you had come to me.” Then his brow furrowed, lines of anxiety appearing around his eyes. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t kissed you… That was wrong of me, Claudia. I know that that’s why you stayed away. I just… I can’t help caring about you.” His voice was strained. “Even though I know how you feel about Sean, I allowed myself to act rashly and selfishly. I’m sorry.”
Now it was my turn to squeeze his hand. “It’s okay, Clayton. I never should have said those nasty things to you. I didn’t mean them. I was just desperate for you to stay away so that I could get at Ronan.” I lowered my voice. “And I care about you too. Just not in that way. I’m sorry.”
The lines of his face tightened further, but he just nodded. “I know that we haven’t known each other very long, but our relationship means a lot to me. I don’t want to lose you, Claudia. I hope we can repair what I’ve damaged between us.”
I looked at him earnestly. I want
ed nothing more than to wipe the pained expression from his handsome visage. “There’s no damage. Clayton, I haven’t had a friend since I was thirteen years old. Other than Sean, you’re the only person that I’ve trusted since then. I’m not going to give that up. I’m not going to give you up.”
He let out a long breath, some of the tension leaving him as he gave me a small smile. “Thank you.” He regarded me gratefully for a moment, but then he turned serious once again. “Now please explain to me what you were thinking going after Ronan. I can understand that you want revenge and that you want to protect Sean from his father. But you were so distraught after what happened with Garcia. What changed?”
We were back on the painful topic again. I wanted to shy away from it, but I realized that I needed to share with Clayton. I knew that he would be able to help me sort myself out. I took a shaky breath before diving in.
“After Sean found out that I betrayed him, I just fell apart. It was too much for me to handle. Rage was a much friendlier emotion than what I was going through.” I swallowed back the lump in my throat so that I could continue to force out the words that I needed to release. “And then… What I did to Garcia rocked me to my core. I can’t help feeling like a murderer, even if it was self-defense. And I figured… I figured if I already was damned I might as well take Ronan out.” I hugged an arm around my stomach, trying to physically hold in the grief that was threatening to overwhelm me. “I don’t know who I am anymore.” My voice cracked, and I looked at Clayton beseechingly. “Nothing used to hurt me, but now everything is so… sharp.” I gasped out a soft sob.
His fingers curled under my chin, lifting my face so that I didn’t have the option of dropping my eyes. His electric blue stare was so intense that it took my breath away. “What’s happened to you has changed you, Claudia,” he said seriously. “After everything you’ve been through, you couldn’t possibly be the same person that you were before you were abducted. But I think it goes further back than that. You haven’t been you since the night Ronan killed your parents. I can understand why you hate him, Claudia; he took everything from you that night. You should be nothing but perfectly happy. You deserve that. And you can have it now, if you just help me.”
“I want to help you, Clayton. But I don’t think that happiness is possible for me. I don’t think I possess the capacity for that anymore.”
His thumb lightly traced the line of my jaw. “Of course you do.” His voice was low and intense. “You’re intelligent, resourceful, brave, and strong-willed to a fault. Even after everything that’s happened to you, these are qualities that Ronan was incapable of stamping out. This is who you are: a survivor. And you will survive this, Claudia. Even if I have to dive into the depths of the ocean and drag your ass back to shore, you’re going to come out okay. I promise you that.”
I stared at him, thunderstruck and at a loss for words. I had treated him like shit, and yet he was doing everything he could to help me. I knew that I had done nothing to deserve his unwavering support.
“Why are you so nice to me?” I asked, truly unable to comprehend the motivations for his kindness.
“I told you, Claudia: I care about you. You’re a good person.”
“But... But I was going to murder Ronan.” A spike of ice stabbed through my gut as I came to a startling realization. “And I still want to. I’m a killer, Clayton. You were going to arrest me, and you should. I deserve it.”
He gripped me by the shoulders, holding me firmly as he stared into my eyes. “I don’t blame you for wanting to kill him. Hell, the bastard should be dead. You deserve justice, Claudia, but not at the expense of your own freedom. And not at the expense of your soul. I know you; you are a good person, Claudia.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he spoke right on over me. “You killed Garcia because you didn’t have a choice. You’ve told yourself that you might as well kill Ronan because you’re a murderer, but that just isn’t true. Despite everything that has happened to you, you are one of the most compassionate people I have ever met. Don’t let your hatred of Ronan take that away from you. He’s taken so much from you already; don’t let him destroy that part of you. You’ve said that you want to help me. Let’s do this the right way. Together.”
So many emotions were swirling through me, moving with the swiftness of a raging torrent: anger, self-loathing, wonder, incredulity, gratitude, grief. I was completely overwhelmed, stunned by the lengths that Clayton would go to in order to help me. And I realized that he was right. What I had been forced to do to Garcia had fucked with my head, had made me question everything that I was. And when the loss of Sean came so hard on the heels of that earth-shattering, bloody night, I had spiraled out of control. But now, with Clayton grounding me, I remembered who I was. I was Dr. Claudia Ellers, a woman who hated violence, who couldn’t stand to see people in pain. And while killing Ronan Reynolds would end the suffering of many people, it would rip another hole in the foundations of my very self. He wasn’t worth that; I refused to give him any more of my life than what he had already stolen from me. Overcome with gratitude and relief at my realization, I threw my arms around Clayton, tucking my face against his neck as I held him to me tightly. For a moment, he stiffened in my hold, but he quickly relaxed, wrapping his arms around me in kind.
“Thank you,” I whispered. If Clayton hadn’t shown up, if he hadn’t forcibly taken me away from that garage that would have been the scene of Ronan’s murder and the slaying of the remnants of my own soul, I didn’t know who I would be right now. I had thought that I didn’t know who I was anymore, but Clayton had reminded me. Ronan was going to face justice - and in a fashion it would be by my hand - but we were going to do this the right way.
I basked in the warm, reassuring heat of Clayton’s embrace. A small part of me wondered if I should feel guilty for initiating such intimate contact when I knew how he felt about me, but I selfishly clung onto him. I realized that I could have this is I wanted to. I could have him. He was the sensible choice, really. He was solid, stable, safe. And he saw me for who I truly was, even when I couldn’t see it myself.
My heart ached at the thought of being with a man who wasn’t Sean, but I knew now that there was no way he would ever forgive me, even if my testimony did secure his freedom. He had opened up to me, trusted me. And I had betrayed him.
I breathed in Clayton’s salt-kissed leather scent. It was undeniably comforting. Maybe when all of this was over, I should give him a chance. Maybe I could find happiness with Clayton. I would never share with him what I did with Sean, but it occurred to me that perhaps no one was meant to share something that brilliant and all-consuming. It was unstable, volatile, and in the end it had only resulted in our mutual destruction.
I clung to Clayton more tightly.
Chapter 3
Clayton’s mouth was hot on mine as his tongue traced the line of my lower lip. I opened for him, and he drew it into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. His body radiated a gentle heat where it pressed against mine. Being kissed by Clayton was… nice. And his gorgeous body was more than nice. I unconsciously ran my fingertips across his rippling abs, my touch tracing upwards until the flat of my palm rested against the hard planes of his bare chest. The light dusting of hair on his tanned skin tickled my flesh. I could feel it brushing against my hand and lower down at my hip, where no clothing separated our bodies. His hard cock pressing against me insistently was a testament to how badly he wanted me.
But did I want him? Clayton was caring, intelligent, and sexy as hell. There was no good reason why I shouldn’t be with him.
Well, there was a reason, but it certainly wasn’t a good one.
Sean.
But that was over. There was nothing I could do about it now. Sean would never want me, and Clayton was here. Here in my bed with me while Sean was locked away in a prison cell.
Why couldn’t my brain just shut up and accept the pleasure that Clayton was offering? Maybe one day I could. But it was too soon. I didn’t want
Clayton out of my life, but I certainly wasn’t ready for him to be in my bed. Turning my head slightly, I broke the kiss.
“Wait,” I whispered, pressing both hands against his chest in order to push him off of me.
Strong hands ensnared my wrists, jerking my arms above my head and pinning them there. I gasped and my eyes widened as I stared up at Clayton incredulously. This was jarringly different from his slow, sweet touches a moment before. Instinctively, I tugged against his grip, but he held me fast. His expression was cocky, the twist of his full lips slightly cruel.
“Isn’t this what you want, Claudia?” His tone was colored with amusement as he pinned me with a knowing stare, his green eyes cutting to the core of me. There was a strange lilt to my name as his voice caressed it, making me shiver as heat bloomed at my core.
Wait. Green eyes.
I blinked hard, and when my eyes opened again my breath caught in my throat.
“Sean!” His name was a strangled whisper. He was looming above me, his gorgeous, deep green gaze burning into me. The lines of his face were drawn into a terrifying expression, something ruthless, merciless. The sight of it made my heart race and my clit pulse. A sharp cry escaped me as I was suddenly impaled by his cock. The intensity of his thrust made my body jerk beneath him, but he held me in place. He had done little to prepare me, and the ecstasy that shot through me at the feeling of being filled was laced with pain. But he didn’t give me time to adjust; he forced my body to accept him, to accommodate him. And I couldn’t help but respond with delight. The twinges of pain within my sex and his pitiless, bruising grip on my wrists only served to heighten my pleasure. What had been little more than a pleasant warmth under Clayton’s tender ministrations was ignited to a bonfire as bliss soared through me.