Page 506 of Rage

When I glance at Ryan, his head leans against his shoulder. The alcohol has dimmed him to the point of passing out. A quick look at the clock shows it isn’t yet past eight. Which means I’d have enough time to get to the bus station and leave town before he wakes up. I nudge his leg with my foot, but he doesn’t wake up.

Heart pounding, I rush to the bedroom, tossing clothes into my bag. I don’t have any fucking money. I know he is holding everything in his back pocket. Ever since I bought some makeup, he’s taken away my allowance, and I realize how fucked up that is.

I can never escape abuse. It’s going to follow me for the rest of my existence. Every man in my life has shown that I am only seen as a servant, never amounting to anything more.

Something cracks deep within, and I whip open the closet to grab his belts. I can’t leave because he will always find me, but if he’s dead, he won’t ever be able to touch me again. His tongue will never lash me with wicked words, and I’ll be free. My dream of reaching freedom is the only thing I need to focus on.

Returning to the kitchen, I secure the belts around his wrists and the wooden chair armrests. I fasten his legs to the bottom rungs and move everything away from the table. I open the drawers and pull out our old set of knives and utensils.

Tonight will be the last time he will everfuckinghurt me again. Dead men can’t own women.

Chapter Two

Burke

Business meetings being cancelled last minute is always a thorn in my side. I dislike it when nobody bothers to email. Gritting my teeth, I drive my Lexus around the bend to the house. I hadn’t planned on coming home for a few days, and I know Ryan won’t have the rent.

That kid has tested the limits of my patience. He’s like his fucking mother, a drunk. I’ve wanted to kick him out of my house for months, but I hesitate because of Clara. God, she’s so above the trash that he is. She could do so much better.

I’ve desired to take her away from him for years. Something about her drives me wild, and her sweet tone always sets me at ease like we’ve met in another life. I’d do anything for her. She never asks, but I’d love nothing more than to show her the good the world offers.

Clara came to live with us a couple of years ago, after her worthless father kicked her out over something fucking stupid. He’s been in the back of my mind to take care of, but I can’t go around killing people because they piss me off.

Although I have connections, I don’t use them for personal reasons. When the job calls for someone to be put down, we use them, but otherwise I don’t want to bring work home.

After I pull into the driveway, I walk to the side of the house and beer bottles come into view. Fucking hell, I’ve asked him time and time again to not leave them by the side of the house. Jogging over to their patio, I pick them up and notice something red drying on the grey brick of the house.

My stomach twists when I stare through the glass. Clara is standing with her hands on her hips, looking around the kitchen. Her dark hair is pinned up in a high ponytail, but the black shadow across her face tells me all I need to know.

Although I suspected abuse, I didn’t realize it was physical. I believed I’d raised him better. I watch for a few more minutes. She seems frustrated as she waves her hands and sifts through things on the counter.

Clenching my jaw, I stomp away from the door and head to the garage. I pace, wondering what I should do. I’d love nothing more than to be her knight and save her from everything bad in her world, but that’s not what a woman like her wants. Clara is so fucking strong. The armour she wraps herself in is there for a reason, and I won’t minimize her strength.

Setting the bottles down into the recycling bin, I run up the stairs and into the house. After hanging up my suit jacket in the hall, I round the corner to the kitchen and grab my knife block. I don’t want to take away her power, but like fuck, I’m going to let her struggle with whatever plans she has for him.

With one arm holding the block, I make my way to the door that connects our apartments. Anger boils in my stomach. Ryan should have never laid a hand on her. My mind holds me back for a minute. If nothing else, at least she will be prepared. Unlocking the doors, I creep down the steps.

“You fucking cunt, untie me. The fuck you think you’re gonna do?”

“Ryan, you’ve hurt me for long enough. I might be the dumb bitch who stayed, but you will not run my life anymore.”

Her voice is strong, and I inhale before getting to the bottom of the steps and easing the door open.

“Stupid bitch is right. You think you can run your own life? You can’t even shit without medication. What are you going to do out there in the big, scary world by yourself?” His words drip with venom, and I hate that he hurts her and pulls at something that sounds out of her control.

The door creaks as I open it, and Ryan strains against the belts tying him to the chair as Clara whirls around.

“Burke!”

“Dad, she’s fucking crazy. You need to get her out of here and untie me.” Ryan’s face is red as he struggles under the restraints. Spittle flies out of his mouth, and his eyes are bloodshot and glassy.

“Clara, I brought you these. Thought you’d have better luck with something sharper.” I leave the block on the counter next to her dull knife. I step forward, dropping a kiss on her head and squeezing her shoulder. “You got this,” I whisper.

“Some father you are. Don’t fucking touch her.” Ryan growls at me.

“You ain’t no son of mine, laying your hands on a woman? Enjoy what’s coming.”

I tear my gaze away from him and look at Clara once more before nodding to her and walking back upstairs.

---