Page 35 of Brazen Criminals

He shifts from pleading to furious again. “Clara, you’re being ridiculous. Look at this place. Look at these, these…people. You don’t belong here. Come on. We’re going home.” He holds out a hand, as if he expects me to heel like some well-mannered dog.

“No.”

He takes one step into the room before he vanishes, pulled from the room by an invisible force. Everyone is on their feet, sprinting to the front, Walker and Jansen pressed close beside me as we barrel through the hallway.

Trips stalks across the top of the porch stairs, Bryce lying sprawled on the front lawn. Unthinking, I go down the stairs, but Trips snags my arm. I glare, and he lets go, but stays beside me as I skirt around Bryce, kneeling a good two feet from my ex, not wanting him within arm’s reach. “Bryce, we’re done. I never want to hear from you again. Do you understand?”

He pushes himself to sitting, eyes crystalline in the dark. “You’ll come around. I know how important perfection is for both you and me, Clara baby. And together, we’ll be so perfect no one will ever give us a second glance, we can be untouchable. So come home, baby.”

Emotion boils, one I’ve never purposely directed at Bryce before: rage. My heart rate spikes, and I want to slam my fist into his face, to make him understand in a visceral, Cro-Magnon kind of way that we’re through. That I will never be his perfect little doll again.

My fists curl, my legs tense, ready to pounce, and just as I leap, someone snatches me from behind, arms braced against my sternum and stomach to halt my charge. “Shh…” Jansen whispers as he pulls me back.

Bryce rolls to his feet, brushing the dirt from his pants. “I’ll give you a week,” he says. “We can try again when you’re in a better frame of mind.”

A shriek tears from my throat as I try to break free from Jansen’s arms. Trips steps between us, RJ rushing down from the porch to stand beside him. Prowling toward Bryce, Trips forces my ex to take two steps back.

Trips’ fists clench and unclench, his feet sure. “When a girl fucking says you’re done, you’re done. And when I fucking tell you to get off my property, you fucking leave. Get.” He points at the street, his growl making me shiver, and his rage feeding my own fire.

Bryce goes to shoulder check Trips, but RJ reaches out, dragging Bryce back. A clearpopricochets in the hush.

Bryce screams, clutching his hand to his chest, horror, pain, and anger warring on his face.

“This is your one warning. You touch him, I won’t stop him from doing whatever he damn well pleases.” RJ motions to Trips, as if a broken finger is a safer and wiser option than whatever the other man would do. I shiver again, Jansen still whispering calming nothings in my ear.

Bryce backs away from both guys, tears on his cheeks, his hand cradled close to his heart. “You’re fucking crazy. You’re all fucking crazy. Don’t worry, Clara. I’ll be back, I’ll help. I’ve got you, baby.”

A strangled yawl comes out of my mouth as I break free for a moment, not sure what I’m doing, just knowing that I’m going to explode and that Bryce deserves the brunt of it. I make it three steps before Jansen’s arms snake around my waist again, lifting my feet off the ground. RJ turns around and steps between Bryce and me, blocking my line of sight. “Deep breaths, sugar, deep breaths,” he murmurs.

Trips stands sentinel between Bryce and the rest of us.

I hear Bryce’s shoes on the sidewalk, then the street, moving faster than a walk, but not quite a run. A car door slams. Lights pivot across the lawn—a U-turn—spotlighting first Trips, still unmoving, then Walker and Emma on the porch, Walker grim, Emma stunned, and lastly lighting up RJ’s curls from behind, a momentary halo. The engine purrs and he’s gone.

The fight leaves me, and I’m limp in Jansen’s arms. RJ reaches out and wipes my cheek, tears I didn’t know I was crying coming off on his fingers. He nods to Jansen behind me, who lets go. I try to catch myself, but I can’t seem to stand on my own, so RJ pulls me to his chest and helps me to the house.

Glancing behind me as I go up the stairs, I catch sight of Jansen carefully skirting around Trips, soothing murmurs dropping from his lips, more of a lion tamer than a friend. Emma and Walker follow us inside, and Emma pushes through and cuts in, taking me from RJ. “I’ve got this,” she says.

“Straight back, last door on the right,” Walker says, and with that, my best friend and I are alone in my room. The sobs escape.

Chapter 19

Clara

Idon’tknowhowlong we lie on my bed together, her stroking my hair while I cry, but at some point, I come back to myself. “I’m sorry,” I say.

“For what? For crying, or for getting angry, or for having gotten away from that possessive delusional jackass? What in the world would you have to apologize for?” She turns me around so we’re facing each other. “I’m serious.”

I sniffle, wiping my face with the bottom of my shirt. “It was supposed to be a fun movie night.”

She hugs me tight. “It was a very fun movie night. So don’t you worry. The rest of that? That’s not on you.”

That starts a fresh wave of tears, Emma holding me through them. After I’m spent, I push my pillows up, propping myself up in the bed. Emma does the same with the other two pillows. “Can I ask you something?” she asks.

“Shoot.”

“Was it always that bad? Was Bryce always like that and I just didn’t see it?”

Thinking about it, I gather my hair to one side of my neck. “He was always particular, he always wanted us to present a ‘perfect face’ to the world, but I don’t know, it felt more like an intense infatuation, like a crazy way to be in love.”

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