Page 31 of Taken By the Ripper
Gasping in a breath of fresh air the moment she stepped outside, she leaned against the cold bricks of the building as she tried to catch her breath. Because Claude had stolen it. And she didn’t know if she could get it back.
She paused, doubting herself as she glanced down at the basket in her hands. Claude was a good man. Deceiving him like this tore her heart in several different directions. This was wrong. But what about Jack? She had growing feelings for the ghoul. HeandClaude could get hurt if she didn’t help and do what he’d asked of her.
But Claude…
Indecision warred within her as she bit her knuckle. She liked both JackandClaude. It was impossible not to. She could not be courting two men. What would Jack do when he found out what happened today?
First things first. She had to burn the documents. And then she would figure out what to do from there.
C
lara knew she’d made a mess of things. She just didn’t know how bad until she hadn’t heard from Claude for days, which turned into a week. And she hadn’t seen an inkling of Jack, either.
“What is wrong with me?” she murmured to herself, running a hand down her cheek after a long day. She’d never been so focused on men in her life. They distracted her from her patients and earning the living her family desperately needed, and they distracted her now. She needed to focus. No more fantastical thoughts or wayward emotions.
And certainly, no more men.
She released a long sigh as she tidied up the newest available cot in the infirmary, placing supplies in the drawer and smoothing down clean sheets with her hand. The cot would be filled by tomorrow, without a doubt. They never stayed empty for long.
Behind her, the curtain drew open and closed with a hiss. Clara spun around, one hand to her heart while she reached for a scalpel with the other. But before her fingers closed around the small item, her arm dropped to her side in shock.
The Ripper stood a few paces away, his arm wrapped around his torso while his chest heaved with each labored breath he took. Thick, black liquid coated his hands and dripped between his fingers, and only then did she realize what it was.
Blood.
“Jack!” she gasped, abandoning her fear to rush toward him. Concern pushed out any previous caution as she pulled his hand away just enough to reveal the deep gash in his torso and the blood spilling out.
She thrust a wadded cloth onto the wound and instructed him to apply pressure while she hastily sifted through her medical supplies located in the drawer beside the empty cot. The wound appeared deep, and a part of her feared he might either bleed out or faint from blood loss if she moved too slowly. The heavens only knew she couldn’t lift his massive body enough to move him somewhere safe and discreet before the police found him and killed him on sight.
“Clara!” Norma shouted from the opposite side of the room. She froze. “Where are the extra bandages? I thought we ordered more last week.”
Taking a deep breath, Clara answered as calmly as possible while maintaining eye contact with Jack’s yellow, beastly eyes, “I haven’t had the chance to put them away. They’re still in the crate.”
Several moments passed with Clara holding her breath, hoping her sister would stay away from the curtain.
But then Norma replied, “Ah! Found them. Mrs. Griffon is in need of a change of bandages. If you are busy, I think I can manage it.”
Busy?Jack mouthed with the quirk of his brow and the faintest smirk on his lips despite the evident agony in his expression.
She pointed a finger at him and mouthed back,I will smack you.
And then she cleared her throat to answer, “I appreciate the help, Norma. I have to see to a patient, but then I’ll return shortly.”
Or perhaps not so shortly. It was a bad wound.
Realizing she couldn’t perform the stitches in the infirmary without putting Norma at risk of finding out about the Ripper, she snatched Jack’s hand and slipped out of the curtain when her sister’s back was turned and rushed down the hallway into the darker corridor leading into the private section of the estate.
Jack followed behind without a single complaint, his labored steps the only indication of his discomfort.
In a sudden, disorienting movement, Jack took her by the waist, spun her quick enough for wind to whip through her hair, and pinned her quietly against the wall in the corner of the hallway where the darkest shadows lingered.
Her breath hitched. Heat flushed through her body at his sudden nearness. No, it most certainly wasn’t fear coursing through her veins. It was excitement. Anticipation.
And…
Oh, dear.
She’d made a mess of things. She needed to tell him about what had happened with Claude.
