Chapter 14 #2
His voice comes out broken as he stares at me with wide, pleading eyes, begging me to see him. To understand something, I’m not sure I can.
“I told you I wasn’t good for you. I told you that you deserved someone better. I knew you would, but part of me hoped you wouldn’t go and stay away.”
“I was eighteen.” My defenses start to rise, old wounds piling up on top of each other, festering.
“I know. Fuck. I know that. I fucking hate myself for what I did to you that night. For the way it changed everything here.” Both hands reach up into his hair this time, fingers pulling at the ends of his curls. His eyes are wide and glassy as his chest heaves in breath after breath.
“Clay.” I start towards him, jumping back when he puts his hands up to stop me. They fall back to his sides, chin tucking into his chest, defeated.
“Jesus Christ, you’re terrified of me. How can I stand here and tell you that I want you when you’re scared of me?”
“Want?” I breathe, my vision tunneling onto him, because it’s always been him. “Not wanted?”
“Yes, Leni. Want.” Clay backs up, bracing himself against the wall as his hands drop to rest on his knees. His head lifts, enough to take me in. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I never stopped wanting you. How could I? You’re my home.”
“Then why did you let me go? Why didn’t you come after me? Why did you write me all those letters and never send them? Why—”
“Because you were dead!” His voice explodes, spittle flying from his mouth as he sinks to the ground.
Head in his hands, he takes in a shuddering breath.
“You were fucking dead. I watched my own hands kill you in that nightmare.” Shaky palms turn up to me; tears streak down his face.
“I killed you. I know—I know it wasn’t real, but I watched it like it was. ”
“Clay,” I croak, voice sounding foreign to my ears. Dropping down next to him, I pull his open palm to my face. I press a kiss to the heel of it, then press it to my cheek, shifting my gaze back and forth between his.
“I can’t risk you. Anything but you. Anyone but you.”
I nod, squeezing my eyes shut to try and stem the tears welling in my eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He snorts, wiping at the moisture on his cheeks. “I think the evidence proves otherwise. It’s okay,” his voice softens as he runs his thumb along my cheekbone, tucking a loose wave behind my ear. “I don’t blame you for being scared.”
“It’s not you,” I reiterate. Pulling my knees up into my chest, I wrap my arms around them, fisting my hands so tight that I can feel my nails dig into my palms. “I lied,” I whimper.
“About everything. I wasn’t mugged.” My voice cracks, all the bravado from earlier gone.
Clay sits up straighter, his eyes never leaving mine as he gives me the time to find the words. “My ID was in my phone case.”
Reaching back, I pluck the little plastic card out of my pocket and toss it at him, watching his eyes widen.
“I couldn’t take a plane, so I got on the bus.”
“You took a bus? In the middle of the night?”
I turn my face away, shame burning my cheeks.
“Sorry.” He squeezes my ankle gently, leaving his fingers there, wrapped around it like an anchor. “What else were you supposed to do? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should've gotten you a new room, made sure you got back safe.”
“It’s not your fault.” I turn back to face him, dropping my head down to rest my cheek on my knee. “It wasn’t a mugging. I told them that to make up for having no phone and no ID. I even threw my backpack away in the hospital to sell the story.”
“Why?” He looks at me softly now, no judgment, no disapproval. His eyes full of an understanding no one else would ever give me.
“I didn’t want them to know. I didn’t want anyone to know because then they’d all know how stupid I am.”
“Leni…”
“No, it’s okay. I know it was stupid. I did so many things wrong that trip. So many things that should have ended so much worse than they did. I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of the way men move sometimes, not you. I just…I know the kind of violence some men are capable of now. I’ve felt it.”
All the color drains from his face as he takes in my words.
“I was in a stupid little dress,” I mumble, talking into my hands so that I don’t have to look at him.
“I fought him off as hard as I could. Bought myself enough time that he didn’t finish what he started.
Fought back hard enough that he forgot to lock the door, and someone happened to walk by and hear me scream. I got lucky.”
Clay is quiet. When I tip my face up to his, I see a fury like I have never seen before. Sure, Clay throwing a chair at the wall was scary, but this? This is an anger that supersedes any I have witnessed in my lifetime.
“I’m alright,” I offer halfheartedly.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” he whispers as his face softens. His fingers flex in and out, going through the motions of cracking his knuckles, like Ethan does.
“But I am,” I insist, even as my bottom lip starts to tremble. The pressure in my chest is too much. The weight of everything I’ve been keeping secret spills out of me as the tears fall like rain. “I’m okay.”
“No, baby.” He spreads his legs wide so he can pull me into his chest. “You’re not, but that’s okay.” Settling my legs on either side of him, I fit perfectly around his body, burying my face in his chest as I sob.
I don’t know how long we sit there, but Clay never complains.
He holds me while I soak his t-shirt, practically washing it as I drain every last drop from my eyes.
He continues to hold me, even after I stop crying.
Deft fingers smooth my hair back, letting me sink even further into him as exhaustion washes over me.
As I’m about to fall asleep, he slips his fingers into my hair, pulling my head back a little.
“Leni,” he whispers, one hand reaching up to smooth the hair away from my face. I wait for him to continue; the intensity on his face steals my breath away. “I really need a shower.”
I grin, a little laugh huffing out of me as I start to push away from him.
“Wait.” He grabs the side of my face. His warm fingers spread across my cheek as he darts his eyes back and forth between mine. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry you feel like you have to keep that buried. Thank you for telling me.”
I nod, not trusting my voice to answer him. His thumb moves over my bottom lip, light enough to make it tickle. Fire licks up my skin where he’s touching me.
“I’m dying to kiss you.”
Butterflies unleash in my stomach. A bolt of something raw and needy shoots down into my core when I realize how badly I want him to kiss me. “So kiss me,” I breathe, leaning back as my eyes flutter closed. He tips his face toward me, and soft, warm lips press a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose.
“I’m still not sure I should.” His breath is hot on my face, while his words feel like a dagger to my heart. I can’t fucking do this with him. The back and forth. The not knowing if he’ll choose me one second and change his mind the next.
“Right,” I growl, scrambling off him. I flee to the other side of the room as fast as I can.
“Leni…”
“No. It’s fine.” I’m too exhausted to cry anymore. All my tears are gone, and this rejection isn’t new. It’s another chapter in what he’s dealt me before.
“Leni, it’s not that simple. It’s…” He sighs, gripping the back of his neck as he stands in front of the bathroom, swiveling at the waist like he’s trying to figure out what to do. “No, you know what?” Something sparks in his eyes, a hunger I’ve never seen from him before. “Fuck it.”