Page 45 of Claimed By Rage

“I’m not fighting it,” he rasps, eyes fluttering shut, “so why are you?”

My throat closes, making it impossible to answer. But I know the reason—it’s clear as fucking day.

Rage is the kind of man who only knows how to break hearts. He doesn’t know how to fix them.

Mine can’t break anymore. It’s already shattered.

When Rage doesn’t get a response, he tears himself away from me and pries my fist from his shirt. “Yeah. I know.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he avoids my gaze. “I’m a bastard, right?”

This time when the front door closes behind him, it barely locks into place, swinging shut in slow motion. But it might as wellbangfor how loudly it ricochets through my body, tearing through muscle and bone, breaking me down into even tinier, sharper pieces than I thought was possible.

Rebel whistles again and taps his fingernails on the countertop. “Man, you two need therapy.” Shaking his head, he chuckles. “I thought Ruin was the crazy one, but put you and Rage together in a room, and he starts to look pretty fucking normal.”

Pain lances through my chest. I turn my glare on Rebel next. If all he’s gonna do is laugh at my expense, then that makes everything ten times easier. Walking over to the only maskedman in the room, the one who hasn’t said a singlewordsince I rolled out of bed an hour ago, I lace my fingers through his.

The flash of hurt across Rebel’s face makes me hold on tighter.

“I choose Ruin. You ready, big guy?”

Ruin doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me away from the kitchen and grabs a jacket slung over the back of the couch. It’s huge, heavy, and warm, smelling like cedar and smoke. He wraps it around my shoulders and zips it in front, locking my arms against my chest.

At this point, I don’t care about being restrained as long as I get the fuck out of here.

“Seriously?” Rebel hops off his bar stool and blocks the path to the exit. “You’re gonna lethimtake you home? He looks like Jason! You know, the murderer!” His face falls. Quieter, he says, “you’re wearingmyshirt.”

It takes some twisting and turning, but I manage to pull my arms free from the t-shirt and pull it down my body, even with Ruin’s winter coat in the way. I shimmy out of it and let it drop to the floor in a puddle around my feet. “There, now you’re free of me, too.”

“I don’t want to be!” Rebel growls, sounding more like his older brother by the second. “Goddammit, Celia, this doesn’t have to be hard! You can choose all of us!”

I shake my head and wander toward the door. “That’s not how the world works.”

Rebel grabs the bottom edge of my jacket to stop me from leaving. “It’s howourworld works, baby.” Sighing, he grabs my clutch purse sitting on the back of the couch and slides it into my jacket pocket. “When you’re ready for that, call me. I saved my number in your phone.” He pulls me in and presses a kiss to my lips, soft and slow, and it actually makes me feel a littlebetter. Some of my anger dissolves, and all that’s left is a void of uncertainty.

“Okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

Tension in Rebel’s body relaxes. “Can I come see you tonight?”

I look between him and his brother. “You mean I have a choice?”

Rebel flinches. “You get to choose who you want to see. For now.”

Ruin grunts like he’s in agreement. Or growing impatient. I’m not sure which.

“So I can choose none of you?”

There’s a beat of silence. “I wouldn’t do that.”

I want to ask why not, but I think I already know the answer.

Rage won’t allow it.

I’m starting to understand that none of them will.

“I’ll let you know if I feel like having company,” I answer lamely, knowing that in the end, it won’t matter. They’ll always find a way to infiltrate my life, even if I don’t invite them in.

“Whenyou feel like having company,” Rebel gently corrects.

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