Page 8 of Tarnished

I hummed and turned on my heel, heading for the stairs. “Smart man.”

He just snorted, his steps barely audible as he followed me up the stairs. “I try.”

After Beck guzzled down an entire bottle of water, I handed him another and then began to lead him up the stairs. I knew I didn’t have much time to get a bag together for myself, and I needed to get a move on. I also needed to get some cash out of my safe to use down in Mexico. Once we left here, anything that could be used to track me, Clarke, and Beck had to go. Which meant no credit or debit cards.

We had to fall off the grid—like we ceased to exist. It was the only way to keep them safe. If I couldn’t be tracked, then they couldn’t either. Sure, two and two could easily be put together to figure out that I was with them—protecting them—but if they didn’t know where to find me, then I would have nothing to worry about.

When I pushed open the door to my apartment upstairs, Clarke was curled under the blankets in bed, her eyes closed. Beck followed me in, and the moment he laid his eyes on her, he reverently whispered her name in a way that felt too intimate to witness, toed off his shoes, and padded across the room to curl up in bed with her. Her eyes slowly slid open, and they widened at the sight of him.

“Beck?” she croaked.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m here. We’re safe.”

She immediately burst into tears. Burrowing her face against his chest, she clung to him, sobbing and crying. She was a mess, but Beck just held her, whispering words to her so softly, I couldn’t make them out. But somehow, I knew they were everything she needed to hear.

They made a beautiful image together. She was so much smaller than him—so malnourished. Young. And despite him not being a huge guy, it was clear he was a protector.

Her protector.

Turning away to give them their privacy, I headed into my closet, grabbing my rolled-up duffel bag from the top of my closet. I spent the next few minutes in my small closet, rolling my clothes up and stuffing them into the small duffel bag. When that was done, I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of my t-shirts before heading back into the room.

Clarke was back asleep, her eyes a little puffy and swollen, but she finally looked peaceful, safely curled up in Beck’s arms. Beck’s eyes were closed as well, but they instantly opened when he heard me come back into the room.

“Do you want to shower and change?” I quietly asked, not wanting to wake Clarke. She needed the rest after everything she’d been through. I was surprised she hadn’t screamed the clubhouse down with a flashback or nightmare, but maybe her brain was just too tired—still stuck in survival mode.

He nodded and slowly pried himself away from Clarke before easing off the bed, being extra careful not to jar her awake. Once he was off the mattress, he padded across the floor to me, his sock-covered feet not making a sound. I handed him the clothes I’d picked out for him. “They might be a bit big,” I warned, “but the sweatpants have a drawstring on them, so you can tighten them.”

He nodded, looking down at his guard uniform with a grimace. The black cargo pants and black long-sleeve shirt looked good on him, but I knew they bore only horrible memories. I didn’t blame him for wanting to be out of them as soon as possible.

He headed for the open bathroom door, and I settled in my chair near the bed, keeping an eye on Clarke. I knew she was safe here, but I had no idea what kind of torture her mind might be preparing to inflict on her. And if she did end up having some kind of flashback or nightmare, I wanted to be close enough to hopefully coax her out of it since Beck wasn’t.

Why I felt the urge to do any of this—protect them, take care of them, be responsible for them—I didn’t know. Didn’t understand it. But it was there like this was something that had always been a part of me.

But I hadn’t even felt this way about Adelaide, River’s wife, when I’d seen the way her ex, Tristan, had mistreated her. Sure, I’d been concerned. Wanted to help her. But I hadn’t felt this urge. Like I needed to.

But Beck and Clarke? I was desperate to save them.

It was fucking dangerous. I knew it was. Bringing feelings into the equation when having to protect someone was ill-advised. Mistakes were easily made. Judgment was clouded.

But I was forming some fucked-up trauma bond with them anyway.

Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and tilted my head back to stare up at the popcorn ceiling above me, my fingers wrapping around the armrests of my chair. When Clarke made a small sound, I was immediately out of my seat, hovering over her, waiting to gently lead her out of her dream. But the only thing she did was shift and quietly sigh—nothing else.

Fuck.

How the hell was I supposed to survive the next however long days, weeks—fuck, months maybe—with the temptation of these two sweet souls dangling in front of me?

7

Tank

Clarke was quiet the entire trip into Mexico, and eventually, she laid her head on Beck’s shoulder and went to sleep. I’d silently laid my jacket over her, my heart giving one hearty thump at the thankful look Beck aimed my way when I did, which I chose to ignore and not look deeper into. Alejandro was quiet as well on the drive, only opening his mouth when Elaina, the woman he and Joey shared, called him to see when he might be coming home.

The way his tone softened for her felt too intimate to witness, especially when I only really knew him as a hardened, callous asshole.

Halfway through the trip, we stopped and got food at a fast-food chain restaurant attached to a truck stop. My bulky frame kept Beck and Clarke hidden from any of the workers. Clarke and Beck had both eaten their food in silence apart from whispering thank-yous to me for paying for their food.

Getting into Mexico was easy. Alejandro got out of the car and spoke quietly to the guard on duty. The one in charge also came over, and after a brief two-minute conversation, he nodded and told the guard to let us through. Alejandro slipped into the SUV a moment later, and then we were officially crossing into Mexico, where we spent even more hours on the road, only stopping long enough for gas and a bit more food for Beck and Clarke.

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