Page 84 of For Wrath and Redemption
“I’m sorry for messing everything up. I never should have?—”
“No. No, Claire. It wasn’t a mistake.”
“It was, Jonah. Itisa mistake. You just said you regret it.”
“I regret it because you fucking own me now. I regret it because youconsume me. But God, I want it. I want it even if you’ll just trap me and take all my money.”
I gasp, cycling through emotions. It’s insulting and ridiculous and so fucking wrong, but for some stupid reason, I also find it endearing. I slip my hands from his grip and hold his gaze.
“I’m not going to trap you, Jonah. I’m not interested in your money.”
He gives me a small, lopsided smile. “I wouldn’t mind.”
I sigh and close my eyes. “You need to sleep this off.”
“I’m not that fucked up, Trouble.”
“Yeah, well, after all that, I am.” I tilt my head to the ceiling. Fuck, I can’t even begin to process all of this. “Go to sleep. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”
He doesn’t say anything, so I take a giant step back. He’s looking at me, studying, as always, but this time, he looks sad. Sorrowful. He looks like he thinks he’s just made his last move and lost.
“Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you throw something else at me.”
I give him a small smile and shrug. “Check?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Maybe. For now.”
My brow furrows, concern flooding me. He shouldn’t be alone, but I can’t be the one to stay with him. It would only make things worse. I force a smile.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nods. “In the morning.”
I turn and walk out. I send one text to Torren, asking him if he will stay with Jonah tonight. When he doesn’t answer within fifteen seconds, I shoot one off to Callie, too. She answers immediately.
Me
Hey. Can you tell Torren to check his phone? I need someone to stay with Jonah tonight.
Callie
Everything okay?
I think so, but I’d feel better if someone stayed with him. It just can’t be me.
He’s on his way.
Thank you.
Anytime. Seriously.
I shove my phone back in my pocket, then scan the hallway for José. When I find him, all my anger returns. His eyes grow wider as I stomp my way toward him. He’s over six feet tall, so when I’m in front of him, I have to tilt my head up to meet his eyes, but he doesn’t scare me. He should be the one who’s scared.
“How fucking dare you,” I growl, my voice low. “You’re supposed to be looking out for him, not enabling?—”
“I’m not?—”
“I’m talking,” I shout. He flinches. “I know you’re helping him get fucked up. If you’re not supplying it, you’re turning a blind eye to him buying it. It might have been okay before, but it’s not okay now.”
