Page 509 of Rage

“I thought freedom would feel good, but I’m no better than him.”

Her eyes are bloodshot, and I wish I could take the pain for her. Standing, I run my fingers over her jaw. Angling her face to stare at me, when our eyes meet, I fight the urge to kiss her. Something I’ve been battling against for a while, not touching her.

“You’ve been through enough with that abusive asshole. Freedom will take time. I’m so sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner. You deserve all the good in the world, not the hellish scraps he threw at you. It’s okay to lay your armour down for a minute.”

Clara wraps her arms around my neck, and I pick her up again before heading upstairs. I don’t put her down until we’ve reached my ensuite bathroom. With a twist of the knob, the water flows into the tub, and I add Epsom salts, their lavender scent filling the air.

After a few minutes, it’s filled halfway, and she strips her panties before getting in. “I’m a wreck,” she mumbles, and I sit on the edge of the large built-in tub.

“You survived for how long?”

“Too fucking long. I’m so tired. I’m exhausted to a level I can’t even describe. Burke, I killed your son. Why are you taking care of me?”

“Because you deserved better, just because he’s blood doesn’t make him family. The moment he raised his hand to you, he cut anything we had.” I turn off the tap and lean forward to wet her hair before grabbing the shampoo and washing the memories of tonight from her.

“I’m so fucking tired of fighting. The cops did nothing.”

“Sorry, they should have done something for you,” I mutter.

Anger courses through me, knowing that the system failed her like I did. I can’t believe living under the same roof. I let this slip through my fingers. Even though she always stuck up for him and did such a good job at hiding everything. I should have picked up on something. If she hadn’t already killed him, I’d be doing it myself. I can’t let it consume me. I need to focus on helping her in any way I can. Clara is the person I’ve wanted for so damn long, and I must prove to her she is worth everything to me.

“It’s not just Ryan. I’ve been fighting since I was little. Maybe there isn’t a point of me even living anymore when I can’t even escape the cycle of abuse. I was euphoric while I was torturing him, but now I feel like a broken shell.”

“Bodies are a funny thing. They react in ways we don’t want them to. I can’t speak to your past, but your future is whatever you want it to be. You need rest. Do you want ice for your eye?” I finish rinsing her hair and stand to get her towels for when she’s ready to leave the bath.

“No, it’s fine. Can you help me out?”

I glance over my shoulder and swallow the lump in my throat. She’s so fucking strong, gorgeous, and forbidden to me. With the towel around her, I pull her close and envelop her in a hug. I want nothing more than to put her broken pieces back together with my hands but know that will not work.

“Let’s get you into bed,” I whisper and press my hand on her lower back. Guiding her to the bedroom.

“My clothes are downstairs, but I can’t go back down there.”

Spinning around, I open my closet and pull out a gym t-shirt. I hand it to her, and she slips it on. She’s stunning in my shirt; need bubbles within me but I ignore it. “I’ve got to go make some calls and clean up, but I want you to rest.”

Once she’s under the covers, I lower to kiss her head. “It’s gonna be alright, Clara. I got you.”

She grips the front of my shirt, and her green eyes stare at me. “Can you stay? At least until I fall asleep?” She glances away, like the question is too much to ask for.

“Of course, move over.”

She scooches, making room for me, and I slide under the covers and wrap my arm around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Burke, I’ll try to figure something out in the next couple of days to get out of your hair.”

The crack in her voice breaks a part of me. I aim to protect her from her own thoughts and the shards of past trauma that rip her up.

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t lying when I said I’m here. My word stands.” I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head. I stroke her hair until she falls asleep before I convince myself to ease out of the bed.

Once I get to the kitchen, walking over the wooden floor, I pull out a burner phone from a drawer and call my guy. “I know it’s late, but we never call early.”

His light laugh is forced. “Be there in fifteen. Clean-up crew?” Curt asks.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty gruesome sight. I’ll be waiting.” I glance at the dark grey kitchen walls, end the call, and put away the phone before walking out to the garage to wait for Curt.

Chapter Five

Clara

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