Page 40 of The Butcher

“Indigo Rae, this is Clayton.” She motions to him but neither of them come toward me, and I can appreciate how thoughtful that is because my anxiety is through the roof now. “Clay, I’d like for you to meet Indy.”

He nods but doesn’t speak, just smiles as he waits patiently on the other side of the room.

Which is when what they’re really doing, clicks.

Strawberries.

The man, this Clayton, smells sweet, and bright.

I know it’s him because Mona smells like clean linen and a hint of lavender, and it’s become a scent I look forward to each time she visits me, so, I know it isn’t her.

Trying to discreetly draw in more of his scent, I take a few slow breaths and find something else sweet, an element I’m unsure of, something I’m not familiar with.

But I find that I like it.

Tilting my head slightly, I look him over from head to toe.

He is nothing like the men I’m used to.

Clayton is tall, over six feet but not by much, and he’s not overly muscular but I can see the definition in his arms and chest through the long sleeve shirt he’s wearing. He’s dressed casually, in some sort of thick cotton pants and even thicker socks, no shoes or coat, or anything else like what Mona takes off when she comes in.

Then I roll my eyes internally.

Because he lives here. Duh.

Despite the comfortable clothes and relaxed posture, there’s something about Clayton that has me on edge.

His shaggy blond hair, dark brown eyes, clean shaven face, and the dimples in his cheeks would suggest otherwise, but the many tattoos sticking out of the collar of his shirt and out the cuffs of his sleeves lead me to think I probably should keep my guard up. There’s more to this man than he’s letting on right now, and the bags in his hands have me getting a little nervous.

“Can he come in, Indy?” Mona asks, pulling me from my thoughts, and redirecting me to the fact that she’s going to leave me alone with him. “I don’t want you to be afraid, but you need to get to know Clay. I promise he’s a good man.”

Clayton’s lips twitch at that, the smile he was wearing taking on an almost sarcastic appearance briefly before he says, “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, and I’ll swear on whatever you want me to swear on that you don’t have to be afraid of me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

I look between them for a few moments, both of them hopeful and patient, waiting for me to give permission for this man to enter my space.

Well, I guess it isn’t actually mine, it’s his, but he’s still waiting for me to allow him in.

Which is why I do.

“Okay,” I whisper as I nod.

“Great.” His smile transforms into something full of happiness and relief, both genuine and beaming again. “I have some things for you, and I’ve been itching to bring them in.”

I frown at Mona who just laughs. “Get used to it, dearie. That’s all I have to say, get used to it. I’ll be right outside for the next twenty minutes or so, if you need me during that time, give a shout, but when I’m gone, I’m not coming back until tomorrow.”

Clayton opens the door for her, the other man who was at the door with him standing right on the other side. Mona pusheshim out of her way, mumbling a few things under her breath, and just when the door is almost shut, I see her make a beeline straight for the man who was pacing, a scary scowl on her face.

I wonder if that’s her grandson.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” Clayton says as he sets the bags on the end of the bed, still keeping a decent amount of distance between us. “But Nan said you didn’t really have any of the essentials, so I made Nash…” he trails off then clears his throat. “I went into town and got you some things I thought you might need.”

He begins emptying the first bag rather meticulously, laying out a hairbrush, a toothbrush and paste, and a few other personal products I’ve been dying to have.

Mona has had to help me bathe up until recently, and whatever soaps she used were purely medicinal, and I came out smelling like dirt most of the time. It worked, they helped soothe my body and get rid of the bruises, but I wasn’t a fan of the scent. It was also pretty clear that it’s been a long time since she’s brushed anyone else’s hair because I was worried about bald spots every time she took the comb to mine, but I never said as much. What she was doing meant too much to me, and it hadn’t happened since my mother was alive, so I wasn’t about to open my mouth.

But seeing these things set out on the bed, knowing they’re mine, that they were bought specifically for me? It has me smiling a bit as I get to my feet.

Clayton watches me but doesn’t stop what he’s doing. “Next time you can tell me what scents you prefer, I tried to keep things subtle and neutral for now, I just figured you’d want more than that mossy shit Nan kept making in the upstairs tub.”

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