Chapter 5
Five
Burke
After cleaning up my bloody face, I put a bandage on to cover a gash on my forehead and pace the wooden floor.
Agitation runs through me. With my head throbbing, I take some painkillers and sit at the table.
When I saw the damage Ryan had done to her face, I wanted to kill the little prick. I don’t care that he’s family.
I have never shown a hint of violence toward any woman when he was growing up. I thought I had led by example on how to treat a woman.
Clara never so much as asked for help. I should have paid attention sooner—I could have saved her long ago.
As I walk past the door to the basement, her powerful voice is gone, replaced with gut-wrenching sobs. I’ve held back, letting her have the time she needed, but now it’s my turn to take care of her.
Heading down the stairs, I beeline for Clara.
Ryan’s eyes are no longer bloodshot—instead, they are vacant. She took her pound of flesh, as evident by his shredded corpse. There are also various body fluids that cover the floor, but it's a problem I’ll take care of later.
Clara sits with her knees pulled up to her chest, gore splattered around her.
I walk carefully around the mess, doing my best not to slip, and I pick her up. She’s a lot lighter than I thought she’d be. I can feel her bones through her clothes.
“Burke?” she whispers, clinging to my shirt.
“I’m so sorry, Clara. He should’ve been mine to take out, but I felt you needed it more. You did good. It’s okay. It’s over, I’ve got you now.”
Guilt for my failure as a father and a natural protector of women burns in my stomachs as I gather her closer to me in my arms. This strong, beautiful woman has suffered so much but never gave up.
When I bring her to the living room, I nuzzle her hair before putting her down. Lifting the shirt off her body, I undo the buttons to her jeans and slip the blood-stained denim off her legs.
As I kneel before Clara to help, her nails dig into my shoulders, and I stare up at her as I remove her socks.
“I thought freedom would feel good, but I’m no better than him.”
Her eyes are bloodshot, and I wish I could take the pain for her. Standing, I run my fingers over her jaw, angling her face to stare at me.
When our eyes meet, I fight the urge to kiss her, something I have been battling against for a while.
“You’ve been through enough with that abusive asshole. Freedom will take time. I’m so sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner. You deserve all the good in the world, not the hellish scraps he threw you. It’s okay to lay your armour down for a minute.”
She hesitates, and I hold out my hand, offering it like a sign of peace. “I killed him.”
“You sure did. It’ll be okay. I’ll take care of it.”
“He said you’d kick me out,” she chokes out.
“Never. I’ve got you.”
Clara wraps her arms around my neck, and I pick her up again before heading upstairs. I don’t put her down until we’ve reached my ensuite bathroom.
With a twist of the knob the water flows into the tub, and I add Epsom salts and bubble bath, their lavender scent filling the air. After a few minutes, it’s filled halfway, and she strips her panties before getting in.
“I’m a wreck,” she mumbles, and I sit on the edge of the large built-in tub.
“You survived for how long?”
“Too fucking long. I’m so tired. I’m exhausted to a level I can’t even describe. Burke, I killed your son. Why are you taking care of me?”
Repeating herself might be good. Maybe she’ll start to process what happened. I’ll get her hooked up with the best therapy around if she’s willing to stay.
“Because you deserved better,” I tell her. “Just because he’s blood doesn’t make him family. The moment he raised his hand to you, he cut anything we had.” I turn off the tap and lean forward to wet her hair before grabbing the shampoo and washing the memories of tonight from her.
“I’m so fucking tired of fighting. The cops did nothing.”
“Sorry, they should’ve done something for you,” I mutter. Anger courses through me, knowing the system failed her like I did.
I can’t believe I let this slip through my fingers while living under the same roof. Even though she always stuck up for him and did such a good job at hiding everything, I should have picked up on something.
If she hadn’t already killed him, I’d be doing it myself. I can’t let it consume me. I need to focus on helping her in any way I can.
Clara is the person I’ve wanted for so damn long. I must prove to her she is worth everything to me and help her reclaim her self-worth. Love doesn’t heal everything, but having someone in your corner could help.
“It’s not just Ryan. I’ve been fighting since I was little. Maybe there isn’t a point of me living anymore when I can’t even escape the cycle of abuse. I was euphoric while I tortured him, but now I feel like a broken shell.”
“Bodies are a funny thing. They react in ways we don’t want them to. I can’t speak to your past, but your future is whatever you want it to be. You need rest. Do you want ice for your eye?” I finish rinsing her hair and stand to get her towels for when she’s ready to leave the bath.
“No, it’s fine. Can you help me out?”
I glance over my shoulder and swallow the lump in my throat.
She’s so fucking strong, gorgeous, and forbidden to me. With the towel around her, I pull her close and envelop her in a hug. I want nothing more than to put her broken pieces back together with my hands, but know it won’t work. My desire wraps me in guilt.
She needs to heal and find her own path in life before giving me a chance I don’t really deserve.
“Let’s get you into bed,” I whisper. Pressing my hand on her lower back, I guide her to the bedroom.
“My clothes are downstairs, but I can’t go back there.”
Spinning around, I open my closet and pull out a gym T-shirt. I hand it to her without turning around and she slips it on.
As I walk toward her, my gaze sweeps over her body. She’s stunning in my shirt. Need bubbles within me, but I ignore it. “I’ve got to go make some calls and clean up, but I want you to rest.”
Once she’s under the covers, I lower to kiss her head. “It’s gonna be alright, Clara. I’ve got you.”
She grips the front of my shirt, and her green eyes stare at me. “Can you stay? At least until I fall asleep.” She glances away, like the question is too much to ask for.
“Of course. Move over.”
She scooches, making room for me, and I slide under the covers and wrap my arm around her shoulders. Clara rolls against me and lies her head against my chest. Her hair wets my shirt, and I stroke her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Burke, I’ll try to figure something out in the next couple of days to get out of your hair.”
The crack in her voice breaks a part of me. I aim to protect her from her own thoughts and the shards of past trauma that rip her up. It’s the least I can do for not saving her sooner.
Hell, if I could have sent her away to school like I asked her a few years ago, this might have avoided the deep trauma she’ll have to work through.
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t lying when I said I’m here. My word stands.” I pull her closer and kiss the top of her head. I stroke her hair until she falls asleep, then convince myself to ease out of the bed.
Once I get to the kitchen, walking over the wooden floor, I pull out a burner phone from a drawer and call my guy. “I know it’s late, but we never call early.”
His light laugh is forced. “Be there in fifteen. Clean-up crew?” Curt asks.
“Yeah, it’s a pretty gruesome sight. I’ll be waiting.” I glance at the dark grey kitchen walls, end the call, and put away the phone before walking out to the garage to wait. Grabbing some of my cleaning supplies, I tinker around in here until headlights pull into the driveway.
Opening the garage door, Curt backs his dark car in. After he turns it off, he steps out of the car. His dark tee clings to his muscles, and he grunts instead of looking at me before popping the trunk and pulling out gear for us to wear.
“Never had a house call before. What’s up?”
Pulling on the lookalike hazmat suit, I put the gloves in my pocket. “Ryan. Turns out he’s into beating women.”
Curt stops fucking with stuff in the trunk and moves at a slow pace before looking in my direction. “He dead?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, ‘cause if you didn’t handle it, I would’ve.” Curt hands me a bag and grabs another before closing the trunk.
“Well, I didn’t, either. She did.” I direct him through the doors, and we head to the gruesome scene.
He lets out a low whistle while glancing around. “Shit. I’d hate to be on her bad side. I’m glad, though. If she didn’t do it, I’d be here for her and have to kill that cocksucker myself.”
“Agreed. If I would’ve noticed things sooner, I could’ve helped her,” I tell him, running my hand through my hair.
Slipping on the gloves, I head toward the kitchen and start removing Ryan. I don’t always help Curt, but it feels right this time.
We work together, and he puts Ryan in a body bag. We carry it out to the trunk together before heading back to clean up the apartment and get rid of any evidence. Curt will take care of it all after he leaves.
He grips my shoulder, and I stare at him. “You couldn’t have helped, unless she wanted you to know.”
Picking up the many utensils she used and bagging them, I sigh. “Still, I could’ve forced her away or something.”
“No, you don’t get it. Ryan was likely Prince fucking Charming for a good chunk of time, made her fall in love with him and put her under a spell. Each time he hurt her, there was an apology and maybe gifts. You couldn’t have saved her.”
We work together on the congealed blood and clean up the shreds of skin on the floor. “How come?”
“The best analogy I ever got was, if you put a frog in a pot of boiling water, it jumps out, eh?”
I nod, and some of my guilt for not saving her dissolves.
“You put the same frog in a pot of cool water, and slowly turn up the heat? It lets itself be cooked. Burke, there’s nothing you could’ve done. Even if you tried, she would’ve turned against you.”
Gritting my teeth, I nod. “I wish it was different. I didn’t raise him this way, and I wanted to save her as soon as I found out.”
“My ma was in a bad relationship for most of my teen years. I begged for her to leave—hell, I stood up to the bastard myself. By the time she was ready to go, I was heading into college, but I was there that night, and when she left…” Curt pauses wiping and looks out the kitchen window.
“He hunted her down and gutted her in front of me. In the abuser’s mind, they own them, and leaving is so fucking dangerous. It’s kill or be killed.”
“Man, I’m sorry. I had no idea.” I go back to scrubbing.
He nods and continues mopping. “Yeah, no one does. It’s not something we bring up. I want you to know that what you’re doing now will help her. Show her the right way to be loved and get her some help.”
“Will do. Thanks for all of this.”
He laughs lightly. “It’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
We continue working until the kitchen is spotless, then take all of Ryan’s belongings out of the apartment.
If she wants to return here, she can decorate any way she wants without the ugly reminders of fear haunting her.