10
OLIAS
I sent Clarity back inside to grab her coat from the back of the restaurant ten minutes ago. It shouldn't have taken that long.
Part of me hopes that fucker Jonah is in there, but when I open the door, I see Clarity standing off to the side, speaking with a much older guy. He wears a black McDonald's uniform, different from Clarity’s, so I assume it's her boss.
I walk over, not liking the frown on Clarity's face or how fucking loud this dick is raising his voice at her. "You can't just leave work early, come late, and miss days, Ms. Red!"
My jaw tightens as Clarity speaks, "You can't fire me; I tried to explain my situation as best I could."
"Why the hell are you firing her?" I interrupt before the shithead can talk. "Can't you see she's having a bad day?"Customers begin to stare, but I couldn't care less.
The nearly balding, pop-belly motherfucker crosses his arms, disregarding my words and looking straight at Clarity.
"And I'm also tired of your boyfriends . You're fired, Ms. Red. You can drop your things off tomorrow."
"But—" Clarity starts.
I clamp onto Clarity's arm as the asshole walks away. "You don't need this job."
" Yes , I do!" she whisper-screams, not wanting the attention on us. Her fingers thread through her hair. "I have things to pay off, and I don't have time to find another job—"
I grab ahold of her jaw, making her stare up at me. "Trust me when I say you don't need to worry about this."
Her face sinks into my hand, and I want nothing more than to taste her pouty lips. Fuck, why did I have to have morals?
She's clearly having trouble financially. And I want to give her everything. And that's what I'll do. Even if that means tapping into my father's business so she can never worry about money again. Shit, I'd do it all just so I can fire that bald bastard myself.
"Do you trust me?" I question her, seeing that her face hasn't changed from worrying.
She nods. "Of course."
I brush the flat of my thumb against the corner of her mouth. "So, listen when I say that you don't need to worry. I got you, okay?"
She huffs and bobs her head. "Okay." I drop my hand so she can put on her coat. She says bye to a few people. One curly-haired girl in particular hugs her and winks, whereas the others wave and go about their business. Why do I have the urge to yell at them and make them hug her?
She walks back to me, and we leave that shit place, walking towards my car.
"What did you eat today?" I ask her, opening the door to the passenger seat.
Her lips twist. "Um..."
I raise my eyebrows as she fails to answer. Lifting my phone, the time reads four thirty-two in the afternoon.
"Clarity, you haven't eaten all day?"
"I just haven't had the time," she tries to justify.
"The time to eat? Why didn't you use your breaks?"
"I was busy..."
I sigh, motioning her to get in the car. She does so, and I close the door. I walk around and get in. Twisting the key inside the ignition, I start the car.
Looking at her, the curve of her chin and the perfect way her hair falls down and over her shoulders catch my eyes. I also notice how her mouth twists when she's thinking too much and how her large eyes display every emotion she feels with just one stare.
She's unreal. Like she fell from fucking Heaven, but yet she hides behind her hair like she doesn't know she's an angel.
A chill runs down my back. Got-dammit, it's not the time for my body to react like this to her.
"You can't go all day with no food. That's terrible for you."
"I know," she utters softly. I rip my gaze from her once she looks my way. I can't look her in the eyes; if I did, I'd have to stop myself from leaning over to kiss her, and I’m not sure I can.
I pull out of the parking lot and begin down the streets of NYC.
***
Clarity chuckles as I fail to pick up my chicken with chopsticks. We sit on the carpet of my living room, Family Feud playing on the TV as we eat Chinese Food. She insists we sit on the floor to avoid dirtying my couches.
The black couches with plastic protection on them.
"I'm glad you find my struggling hilarious ," I deadpan, raising my brows as she topples over on the floor with laughter.
She suggested that we use chopsticks to eat as a bet.
What she failed to inform me of is that she can use them with no fucking problem.
"You do know this isn't fair, right? You're practically a chopstick master. I take my bet back," I say, picking up the chicken with my fork instead and eating it. Clarity leans up, tears of hilarity in her eyes.
She snorts, picking up the chicken on her plate with chopsticks without struggle. "Nope," she mumbles as she chews. You have to give me Dog. I'll sign the adoption papers tomorrow."
"You named my cat, Dog ?"
"Well, you named your cat, Cat !?" she giggles. "You can't give him that name; it's like naming your baby Human."
"As if your name is any better. Calling him Dog is like naming your baby 'Bald Eagle'."
At that, she throws her head back again, wheezing. Her cheeks are a bright shade of red, and her perfect row of teeth is showing the entire time. I should not feel this happy for making her happy. But I do.
She is wearing my red plaid pajama pants again and a black T-shirt. Her hair is damp from getting out of the shower half an hour ago. I chew slowly as I watch her. I'll never get tired of seeing her like this in my clothes, fuck. The goofy smile on my face proves it.
She leans up once again, tears rolling down from her eyes.
"Clare, it wasn't that funny."
Picking up one of the few shrimps left on her plate, she munches on it and then looks at me. "Shut up, yes, it was," she mumbles.
Did she tell me to shut up?
I drop my chopsticks on my plate and turn my ear towards her. "What was that?" I smirk, cocking my head, my voice deepening.
She leans back on her hands as I get closer, a smile spreading ear to ear on her face, " Nothing, sunshine."
Sunshine? I like that. A little too much. Blood runs down my groin.
I shake my head, finding myself hovering over her, my hand pressing into her waist, tickling her. She burst into squirms, sliding away from me with a yelp.
"No, go ahead, say it again. I didn't hear you," I hum, pulling her by her foot.
"I didn't say anything!" she laughs, "Don't tickle m-"
I bring both hands to her sides, under my shirt on her. She cackles loudly, shifting so much I think she might punch me if I continue. I give her a moment to breathe, keeping her pinned to my carpet as she pants, her chest nearly pressing against mine with each inhale.
I'm setting myself up with this position.
Her brown hair sprawls out under her as she looks at me. "I'm sorry, I won't say it again."
"I didn't ask you to apologize, Clare," I speak softly. "I asked you to say it again ."
I try to ignore her eyes, shifting back and forth between my eyes and mouth as her lips part to speak. "Shut up, Olias," she says quietly, her breath fanning against my lips.
Jesus, take the fucking wheel.
I close my eyes, biting down on my jaw and dropping my forehead to the crook of her neck as I inhale.
That shouldn't have turned me on as much as it did, holy shit.
As if she wants me to fuck her right here on my carpet, her fingers thread through my hair, lifting my head to her. "What? Do you like it when I tell you to shut up?"
I swallow, fuck me.
"Mhm," I hum. "I'm going to need you to stop saying it now."
"Usually, people don't like being told to shut up," she said, a smirk rising. She knows what the hell she's doing.
She's gonna make me spill without stripping off an ounce of clothing.
"I don't either. But when you say it, it's different." I lean my weight on one hand and my knees, her legs between mine. I bring my hand to her face, brush a strand of hair from her forehead, and drop it with the rest under her.
It's then that I see a dark bruise on her temple.
I tilt my head, brushing it with my thumb, and she flinches. She immediately slides out from under me and stands up as if the person she was seconds ago never existed.
I stand as well. "Clarity, how did you get that bruise?"
She raises her eyebrows as if she doesn't know what I'm saying. "What bruise?"
I step towards her and take her head in my hand. "Right here," I say, gently rubbing the black and blue spot on her temple at her hairline.
"Oh, yeah, right," she laughs breathlessly. "I had bumped... into something." The laughter and happiness she was emitting are now gone. Despite this weird fake smile she's trying to sell me, her face turns grave.
"Did someone do that to you, Clarity?" I ask her. Even the question alone makes my stomach turn.
She shakes her head. "No, I told you I bumped into something." But I know she's lying. I can see it all in her eyes.
Other than a fist , what the fuck creates a bruise like that when you bump into it? And also, last time, with her thighs? Something doesn’t make sense. Nobody falls that much. Maybe once, but never like this. At least not often enough for me to ignore it again. So who the fuck is hurting her?
I turn around, my hand going to my hair, pulling at it. I spin back around with realization. "Does that asshole do that? Did Jonah do that?" I walk closer to her, an inch away from her. The frown on her face says all I need to fucking know. I need to hear it come from her mouth.
She shakes her head. "No," her voice is small and quiet.
I rest my hands on the sides of her face, making her look straight up at me. "Clarity. Does Jonah lay his fucking hands on you?" Each word comes out like molasses, and the anger in my tone is showing.
Her chestnut eyes flicker between mine, tears surface, and her frown becomes more prominent.
Her silence says all I need to know.
Fuck the words.