Page 21 of Clash
“Turn around,” I whispered.
“Clash—I—”
“Please,” I begged, my voice quivering with rage and speculation. I had to see it with my own eyes.
She turned, presenting her back to me. Very gently, I lifted the back of her shirt until every scar was on display. Red welted skin marred her back, coupled with white shredded pieces of flesh, in the beginning stages of being put back together. Faint bruising could be seen beneath her skin, but it was guilt in her eyes that had me breaking. That look that told me she felt like she deserved this. She didn’t. Not even in the slightest.
My fingertips grazed over each of her scars as unbridled anger built within me.
“I’ll fucking kill him for touching you,” I whispered, thought it came out broken and a bit manic.
“Clash, please. It’s in the past. I left my husband for a reason.” She moved forward, putting her shirt back down. But hiding her scars wouldn’t erase them from my brain. The man hurt Gina, and for that, his death sentence has been issued.
“And Alex? Was it okay for him to hurt Alex as well?”
A few stray tears fell down her face, and instinctively I wiped them away. “I tried to protect him the best I could, taking whatever hits he dished out just to protect my son.”
“But who protected you, Gina? Who was there to stop the pain?”
Taking her hand, I gently lifted it up until her ring was even with her clouded eyes, tears drowning them in her sorrow.
“You could’ve pawned this at any time.”
She kicked her foot. “I know.”
“So, why haven’t you?”
A choked sob caught in her throat, and she sniffed, wiping at her nose. “It’s stupid.”
My fingers laced with hers, and she hitched a breath, her gray eyes staring into my soul with all the sorrow and despair a broken woman could hold. A sputtering of images flashed through my brain, and snippets of last night… the last of her tongue against my own, the softness of her flesh as my hand trailed over her breast, and the punishing grip her hand had around my cock came flooding back to me. I’d give anything to relive that moment again.
“Why haven’t you pawned your ring, Gina?”
“Because I’m scared, Clash?”
“Scared of what?”
She inhaled a long deep breath, a pregnant pause stifling the silence passing between us. “Of moving on. Of admitting I fucked up. It’s a symbol of when life was good with him—of the happy life I always dreamed I’d have when I was married and with kids.”
“I’ll buy you something bigger,” I told her, one hundred percent serious. “Let me free you from his prison once and for all.”
She shook her head. “I’m not ready, Clash. Please, just give me the space I need to grieve and grow on my own.”
I took a step back, knowing I was pushing her without even trying. She was right. Gina just exited a tumultuous relationship, one that I’m just finding out, is far worse than I ever imagined. Pushing her into a relationship so soon would be a mistake. One that I was having trouble letting go of. Something about her made me want to possess her—own her. She was the first woman whose eyes I looked into and I literally felt the feral need to shout “MINE!” at the top of my lungs.
I got lost in her eyes that reminded me of wet pavement when overwhelmed with tears. My soul cried out to hold her and never let her go, but I knew she needed space—she needed me to back off and let her breathe.
So, I will… but I definitely will be playing the long game, I just won’t let her know that, yet.
“Mommy, do you think we can go to the park today?” Alex asked, suddenly appearing between us.
“Sure, Alex. We can go to the park today.”
Alex turned to me, smiling so big every tooth was on display. “Can Mr. Clash come?”
Gina’s eyes met mine, but before I could answer, my phone rang.
Taking a step back, I answered the phone. “Go for Clash.” I shot a glance over at Gina, but kept my words cryptic. “Yeah, I’ll be there in ten.”
