Page 111 of Brittle Heart

“My mom passed some years ago too,” I share. “Cancer.”

“I’m so sorry, Clay,” she says, her eyes filled with genuine sympathy.

“My father was never in the picture anyway. I know what it feels like to be the child of no one,” I say softly.

Tears well in her eyes once more. “Life can be so fucked up and unfair,” she mutters.

“Agreed,” I commiserate, refilling our shot glasses before clinking them together again. We throw back the shots, and I feel the warmth spread through my body. “Ugh…” I say, feeling the pleasant buzz. “Life is way too short to fight over stupid shit, though, too.”

She nods, tears still making their way down her face. “Seems like I’m the one who needs to apologize to Joshua.”

I use my thumb to wipe away one of them from her cheek, marveling at how shiny her eyes are now that they glisten with tears. Her cheeks are flushed, and it’s evident that the vodka is hitting her faster than it is me.

“True, but let’s let him stew a bit longer. You overreacted, but he messed up in the first place,” I say with a casual shrug.

The warmth in my stomach spreads throughout my body, making me feel cozy. I push up the sleeves of my uniform, revealing my forearms. Her gaze follows, and she reaches out to turn my left wrist, examining the inside of my arm.

She bursts into laughter. “Dio,Clay, what is this? It’s the worst damn tattoo I’ve ever seen. Is that a lion?”

I smile at her, unable to hide my amusement. “It sure is.”

She traces the tattoo with her fingertips, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. “Why?” she asks, peering up at me through her lashes, and my heart races in response.

“This was Xander’s very first tattoo on human skin,” I say, a smile playing on my lips. “He needed a guinea pig and promised to cover it up once he got better, but I love it. I love my man, and I’m so damn proud of where he came from. I could never get rid of this.”

She smiles at me with warmth in her eyes, and I hold up my other arm next to it. “This lion he did last year, a little bit of progress, don’t you think?”

“Wow,” she breathes out, her gaze fixed on my two lion tattoos. One resembling Mufasa after the wildebeest stampede, and the other a stunningly realistic lion that could have jumped out of aNational Geographicdocumentary.

“I understand why you kept it. It’s so special and cool,” Carolina says, her eyes meeting mine. “Just like you, Clay. You’re so special, and I’m so happy you didn’t let me get rid of you.”

I chuckle. “Jesus, kitten, are you already that drunk?”

“Drunk or not, it doesn’t make it any less true,” she whispers.

I shift my chair closer to hers, our knees touching, and gently rub hers with my hands. “I’m very grateful you didn’t kick my ass to the curb too,” I say with a grin.

Suddenly, she stands and pushes my knees wide so she can stand between them. She wraps her arms around my neck, holding me in a tight hug.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me,” she whispers, her voice filled with vulnerability.

I can’t stop the tears pooling in my own eyes as I squeeze her to me.

“Promise.”

CHAPTERFORTY-THREE

Carolina

What the fuck happened?

I wake up and groan, my head pounding worse than when Roberto pushed it against the kitchen counter that one time. I manage to open my eyes and find myself in an unfamiliar room. It’s pretty, mostly beige tones, but it lacks any personal touches, giving it more of a guestroom vibe.

“Good morning,” Joshua says from my right side.

I sit up, holding my head and whimpering. “Not so loud.”

“I’m whispering,” he replies, with a hint of humor in his voice. “Here, drink this.” He holds out a glass of orange juice and a pill.

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