Saving Little Clark (Brave Daddies #4)

Chapter 23 Clark

The morning of Christmas eve dawned crisp and cold, a light dusting of snow blanketing the ground outside. I watched the flakes drift lazily past the window, nose pressed to the glass, letting the peaceful hush settle into my bones.

It had been a hard few days. The incident with Sterling had shaken me deeply, dredging up old hurts and insecurities I'd thought long buried.

Even with Daddy's steadfast love, I couldn't seem to shake the lingering sense of unease. The fear that I was broken, tainted. That it was only a matter of time before my baggage became too much, before Daddy realized I wasn't worth the trouble and left me behind.

Alex and Uncle Will had arrived late last night, bags in tow and matching grins on their faces. But today, even the sight of Daddy and Will camped out in the living room, whooping at the football game on the big screen, wasn't enough to chase away the shadows clinging to my thoughts.

Worrying, I bypassed the recliner where I usually curled up at Daddy's side. Instead, I shuffled into the playroom, instinctively seeking out the comfort of my safe space.

I'd barely made it two steps before a familiar figure barreled into me, nearly sending us both tumbling to the plushly carpeted floor.

"Clarkie!" Alex crowed. "There you are. I've been waiting forever. We’ve got important business to tend to."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, allowing him to tug me further into the room. "And what exactly does this entail?"

Alex puffed up importantly, putting his hands on his hips. "Why, tea and crumpets of course. Lord Hoppington has cordially invited us to a very important dippy-matic meeting. As princes of the realm, our attendance is mandatory."

I bit back a giggle, already feeling myself slipping into Little space under the force of Alex's playful insistence. "Well far be it from me to disappointment His Lordship," I declared, dropping to my knees and assuming a crawling position.

With a gleeful cackle, Alex scampered off on all fours. I gave chase, losing myself in the simple joy of play and pretend, unburdened by the troubles of the adult world.

We made it about halfway to the elaborately set-up tea party in the corner before Alex abruptly pulled up short, sending me crashing into his back with an oof. Startled, I rocked back on my heels, shooting him a quizzical look. Slowly, telegraphing his movements, he turned to face me head on, searching my expression with a gaze that saw too much.

"Clarkie," he said softly, and the rare note of seriousness in his tone made me stiffen instinctively. "What's going on in that head of yours? You've been awful quiet all morning. And don't even try that I'm fine routine with me, mister. You know I can see right through it."

I struggled to put words to the tangled knot of emotions in my chest. But Alex just waited, patient and nonjudgmental, scooting closer to bump his shoulder against mine.

"I've got all day, bestie," he reminded me, quiet but resolute. "However long you need, I'm here. No rushies."

Drawing a shaky breath, I let it out slow, fighting past the anxious flutter in my gut. "I'm scared," I confessed, barely above a whisper. Felt Alex go still beside me, his full focus zeroing in. "Sterling really did a number on me. Made me believe that no one could ever really want me. Seeing him again brought back those memories. Those feelings. That I was too broken, too difficult to be worth loving. And logically I know Daddy adores me, but I'm just so fucking terrified that one day he'll get sick of dealing with my triggers and my nightmares and all the ugly shit I'm still carrying around and he'll leave, Lex."

Before I could retreat, could curl in on myself and try to shut out the world, Alex was there. Pulling me into his arms and tucking my face into the crook of his neck, one hand cupping the back of my head while the other stroked soothingly down my spine.

"Oh Clarkie," he breathed. "Bestie, no. No, shh, you listen to me now. Just breathe for me. I've got you, bubba's got you."

He began to rock me gently, keeping up that steady stream of reassurance as I fell apart in his arms. Let me cry myself out until I was limp and wrung dry, nothing left but hitching breaths and the occasional shuddery aftershock.

Only then did Alex pull back, just far enough to frame my blotchy face between careful palms. His eyes were red-rimmed but fiercely determined when they met mine.

"Clark, I need you to hear this," he said, low and intent. "Uncle Brody loves you. He loves every part of you, even the messy, complicated bits. There is nothing you could say or do or be that would make that man walk away from you. You’re so much more than your trauma. So much more than the lies that bastard put in your head. You're kind and brilliant and brave. The way you keep fighting, keep choosing joy and light even when the darkness feels like it might swallow you whole..." He shook his head, a wondrous sort of smile playing at his lips. "You amaze me, Clarkie. And I know for a fact that your Daddy feels the same way.”

"How," I croaked, barely recognizable to my own ears. "How can you be so sure?"

He huffed a little laugh, fond and exasperated all at once. "Because I've been where you are, bubba.”

My breath caught. In all the years we'd known each other, all the long, soul-baring talks, Alex had never once hinted that he harbored the same insecurities.

Beside me, Alex squeezed his eyes shut, visibly struggling to compose himself. When he opened them again, they were glassy and pained, but resolute. “But maybe we’ll save that story for another day.” A hitching breath, another unsteady smile. "Just know that my Daddy put me back together, piece by jagged piece. Showed me that I was stronger than my darkest moments, braver than my deepest fears. That the cracks and scars I carried only made me more beautiful in his eyes."

Gently, so gently, he stroked his knuckles down the line of my jaw. "That's how I know. Because Daddy looked the ugliest parts of me dead in the eye and loved them, honored them, until I had no choice but to believe it too. Just like Uncle Brody loves and honors yours."

He was right. Daddy did love me. Unconditionally. He'd proven it time and again, with his words, his actions. His steadfast, unflinching presence, even in my darkest hours.

"How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?"

Alex's lips quirked, a glimmer of mischief returning to his eyes. "Well, I'm like an onion, all layers and shit."

"Really? That's the metaphor you're going with?"

"Hey, don't hate on the onion!" Alex exclaimed, putting on an affronted pout. "Plus, I am a font of wisdom, I'll have you know. I am the Yoda to your Luke, the Gandalf to your Frodo. When I bestow my knowledge upon you, you should be grateful, young padawan."

"I know I haven't said it enough lately," I began. "But I'm really grateful for you, Lex. Especially these past few weeks, with everything that happened."

He just hummed in acknowledgment, one hand cupping the back of my head.

I'd be lying if I said it hadn't chafed, just a little. If some small, petty part of me hadn't bristled and snapped, lashing out in defensive anger when the full weight of Alex’s focus turned my way. But now, I could admit how much I'd needed that unshakable foundation. Even if it meant enduring the occasional burst of smothering overprotectiveness. The sometimes grating enthusiasm of a friend determined to keep his hurting bestie afloat.

It had been a lot. A barrage of increasingly awful puns and gleeful goofiness to cheer me up, delivered at breakneck speed. Each groan-worthy zinger punctuated by jazz hands and exaggerated facial expressions, the kind that threatened to pull a muscle if sustained too long.

By the tenth knock-knock joke, I'd been ready to throttle him. To shove a pillow over my head and scream until blessed silence reigned once more. But it had worked. Startled a laugh out of me, rusty and creaking.

He'd beamed at me. Swept me into a crushing hug that squeezed the air from my lungs, babbling how he knew he could do it, knew his comedic genius would win the day. I'd called him a dork. Swatted at him in half-hearted irritation, grumbling about abuse of power and cruel and unusual punishment.

But inside, that tiny spark of mirth had taken root. Because he'd cared. Cared enough to make an absolute fool of himself, to risk my snappish wrath and pissy ingratitude. All on the off chance that he could bring me a single moment of levity, of reprieve from the anguish threatening to swallow me whole.

He hadn't given up on me. Hadn't let me drift away into the dark, lost to everything but my own spiraling thoughts. He'd grabbed on with both hands and yanked, dragging me kicking and screaming back into the light. Even when I'd hated it. Even when I'd resented the effort, spat harsh words and pushed him away.

He'd held on. Just like he always had. Just like he always would.

"I'm sorry,"

"What for?”

"For before. For not listening, when you tried to warn me about Sterling."

Even now, the name tasted like ash on my tongue.

"You knew," I said, low and fervent. "You knew something was off about him, something bad. You saw right through that charming mask to the poison underneath, and God, Lex, you tried so hard to make me see it too. But I didn't listen. I was so caught up in the fantasy, so desperate to believe I'd finally found my happily ever after. I shut you out, ignored all the red flags you kept pointing out. Fuck, I practically ran headlong into that shitstorm, and then had the audacity to be shocked when it blew up in my face."

A broken, humorless laugh scraped my throat raw. "You did everything in your power to shield me from my own naive stupidity. And I repaid you by cutting you off, by pushing you away when I needed you most."

My lip wobbled dangerously. But Alex was already shaking his head, that familiar fierceness sparking in his eyes.

"No," he said, quiet but implacable. "Don't put that on yourself. You were in love. The kind that makes everything else feel small and distant, that drowns out all reason and logic.”

He huffed a little laugh, rueful and painfully tender. "Trust me, I know exactly how it feels, to be so caught up in someone that the rest of the world just fades away. To want so badly to believe in the fairy tale that you go deaf and blind to anything that might shatter the illusion. You loved him, and he took that beautiful, infinite trust and twisted it. Used it to manipulate you, to bind you to him in all the worst ways."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. For a moment, I saw the fury surface. But just as quickly, it faded. Softened into something achingly gentle.

"He hurt you, Clarkie," Alex continued. "He took your love and he ground it into fucking dust. It's not a failure on your part. It's his. For being the kind of monster who could look at that shining, open trust and see only a weapon to be wielded."

I shuddered. But Alex didn't let me hide, didn't let me shrink away from the intensity of his gaze.

"Listen," he told me, halting but resolute. "I don't regret a single fucking second of fighting for you, even when you pushed me away. Even when you told me I was overreacting, seeing things that weren't there. I knew, Clark. That sick son of a bitch was bad news, and I wasn't going to just sit back and let him destroy you. I had to try. Had to do everything in my power to get through to you, to make you see the truth of what that bastard was doing. And if it ended up costing me you, our relationship..."

A pause, an unsteady inhale. "Then that was a price I was willing to pay. Because keeping you safe, protecting you, even from yourself, was my duty.”

There weren't any words to encompass my gratitude. So I just wrapped my arms around him and held on, felt him do the same in turn. Let the solid heat of him, the slow, syncopated waltz of our breathing, say everything I couldn't.

And then, like a lance of sunlight through stubborn cloud cover, Alex snickered.

I could only blink in confusion. Pull back to shoot him a look of exasperation, one brow inching towards my hairline.

"Seriously?" I demanded, voice still raspy. "I pour my heart out to you, we have this big, intense brotherly bonding moment, and your response is to giggle?"

But Alex just grinned at me, unrepentant as ever. "I was just thinking, we've officially filled our mush quota for the day. Any more heartfelt confessions and we'll turn into a Hallmark movie."

My lips twitched with the effort of maintaining a stern facade. "Well far be it from me to stand in the way of your emotional constipation, Lex. Please, continue repressing your feelings like a proper manly man."

Alex nodded solemnly, eyes sparkling with mirth. "I've got a reputation to uphold, you know. Can't have people thinking I'm some kind of sappy softie who actually cares about shit."