Page 27 of Brazen Mistakes

“Thanks for the fractional compliment.”

“You need to learn when to pull back, Clara. When to run away instead of running toward danger. But yeah, you should probably learn all those things you listed off, too.”

Thundering on the stairs halts the conversation.

RJ strides into the room, anger thrumming through every step. “It’s him. He’s out.”

Trips folds into his chair, and Walker moves to the couch, dragging me from Jansen’s arms into his own. “Explain,” Walker says.

RJ grips the back of the other chair, the skin tight across his knuckles. “He got out of Trips’ assault we pinned on him—hecould prove he was at his apartment texting Clara that night, of all things. And he’s squealing about the kiddie porn ring for a reduced sentence. His plea deal is time served and a record for revenge porn.”

Silence coats the room.

A shiver ripples through me, knowing it was Bryce hiding in the bushes, taking pictures of me with the guys. Did he take pictures of just me too? Changing, dancing, after a shower? Shit shit shit.

“We can’t do anything about that, can we?” I whisper.

Walker’s arms hold me tight. “No. Altering plea deals isn’t in our skill set.”

“Shit.”

Chapter 11

RJ

Watching Clara’s face crumple has to be the worst thing I’ve seen in a long, long time.

“You mean, after all that, he’s just free to walk?” she asks, tears pooling in those dark eyes of hers, not falling, but wavering with every word.

My nails threaten to cut through the back of the chair, and I force my hands to relax. “No. I won’t let him. The monster doesn’t deserve that freedom. He’ll fuck up again. It’s just a matter of time before he’s back behind bars. And I plan to be the dog nipping at his heels to force him into that cage.”

“If he fucks up and gets caught, that means some other girl gets hurt.”

My heart swells knowing this woman wants to protect an unknown victim, some nameless, faceless future problem. But that girl isn’t my priority. Clara is. “I’ve already set sniffers to track his incoming and outgoing data. He has a newcomputer, but I left a back door in his router, so I could still access his network. The photo is from his new phone, which I now have access to. There were others from other days, too. He’s been watching since three days after they cut him loose.”

Clara shudders and Trips curses. Jansen and Walker fold themselves around our girl, as if their bodies could shield her from her crazy ex. An ex we thought we’d already dealt with. An ex who’s getting a slap on the wrist so the cops can find bigger game to mount on the wall of their proverbial hunting lodge. Never mind the girl whose life he nearly ruined.

“At least he doesn’t get to be a doctor,” Jansen says, trying and failing to make this better.

A flash of the asshole’s face when I dislocated his thumb slips into my mind. If I’d known then what he’d done to Clara? If I’d felt the way about her then like I do now, I would have broken both of his shin bones in warning instead. I’d like to see him try to hunt her when he can’t even walk.

Trips’ hand falls heavy on my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’ve done what you can. Go take a minute. Cool down.”

His eyes tell me he remembers the last time someone I loved was put in a bad spot. One glance at Jansen tells me he remembers the same. I rub the back of my neck, wishing they didn’t know this side of me. The one that rarely has a reason to surface.

The part of me that removes emotion and morals from the equation, leaving only logic and obsession.

“Right. Yeah,” I say, turning away from everyone, off to double-check that I have every digital angle of the monster ex under lockdown.

A small hand slips into mine halfway up the stairs as Clara rushes in front of me, nearly tripping over a box of shit Walker bought for New Year’s Eve. “If you want me to, I can keep you company,” she says.

“I’m not sure I’m good company right now, sugar.” God. I don’t want to say that. I don’t want tobethis person for her. Even if she needs it, she shouldn’t have to see it.

“I can just, I don’t know, sit there. Be with you. Be there for you,” she says, trailing me into my room.

My phone buzzes, and I pluck it from my pocket, needing space to build up the barrier of cool logic, to separate myself from all feelings, all sentimental bullshit until I know she’s safe.

She deserves emotions, not some vengeful automaton.

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