2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
CLARE
I wanted to die. My head was banging so hard, my stomach was doing disgusting flips in sympathy. Why? What had possessed me to get so drunk?
You know why.
Yeah, I did. Because I wanted to go out with my friends, and because the only way I could dredge up the courage to go was to get drunk and stay that way. We’d knocked them back while I was getting ready at Tammy’s and hadn’t stopped, really.
I was such an idiot, but I wanted… a life . Everything had been good before, and I just wanted to get back to that. Nothing I tried had worked. I’d had tons of therapy. I’d even insisted I move out of Karl’s. I loved my brother. I really did, but he treated me like I was incompetent.
Maybe you are.
Who sets herself up to be kidnapped? Who in their right mind gets fooled into thinking that evil bastard was a good guy?
But I knew why. Anna, my therapist, had helped work through my thoughts and realize it had never been Jeremy I was attracted to; it was what he could offer. And I didn’t mean money. Thanks to my brother, I had plenty. No, it was something else. Something else I’d thought was the missing puzzle piece of my soul. I’d been so wrong, and it would never happen again.
I whimpered as I tried to move my head to get rid of the stabbing pain behind my eyes.
“Clare, baby. You need to take these pills and drink some water.”
My eyes shot open and the cry that left my throat wasn’t just because there was a man standing over me in my friend’s bedroom or the endearment he used. It was that I recognized him and every embarrassing detail of last night came back. Bile hit the back of my throat, and I panicked, shoving the comforter back and scrambling to get out of bed.
But Maddox knew instantly what was wrong and he lifted me, getting me to an unfamiliar bathroom and setting me down in front of the toilet just in time.
And he held my hair.
And wiped the back of my neck with a damp washcloth.
If that wasn’t bad enough, he also helped me to rinse my mouth out and even produced a new toothbrush. Then he asked me if I needed some privacy.
I nodded and he left until he heard me flush the toilet, then he was back and standing behind me at the sink, pumping the soap and taking both my hands in his, even turning to the faucet to rinse our hands. Then he took the towel and instead of passing it to me, he carefully dried my hands.
By this time, I wondered if I was still passed out somewhere in a drunken stupor and imagining this. Maybe I was in the ER getting my stomach pumped. Because I knew this wasn’t real, especially when he stood and made me take two Tylenol and drink all the water before tucking me back in bed. He told me I was safe and to go back to sleep.
It definitely wasn’t real, because I felt him brush a kiss on my forehead after I’d closed my eyes.
The next time I opened them, my headache had at least gone even if my stomach still felt a little off. What I needed was coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Because at least that might give me the courage to open my eyes and acknowledge I hadn’t been dreaming.
I knew Maddox was still in the room, wherever I was. Maybe I was still in the club? That would make sense, I guessed. I rolled onto my back but still didn’t open my eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
Ughh. Why did he have to sound like he cared? I opened my eyes and sat up without answering. He shot an arm out and I knew it was to help me, but the flinch was instinctual, and he immediately dropped his arm and stepped back.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” I mumbled and looked around for the first time in surprise. Because this wasn’t the club. The walls were painted a soft gray accented with crisp, white trim, and everything was wonderfully simple and clutter free but empty , if that was the right word. I’d stayed in plenty of hotels with more personality. The bed was a simple wooden frame with a white comforter and a few throw pillows.
Maybe I was in a hotel? But the wooden door opposite the bed didn’t have any fire evacuation notices on it, and then I caught it. The room had a faint scent of musky cologne, reminding me of the man who called this room his own. I knew what Maddox smelled like.
Sanity. Rescue. Safety.
“Where am I?”
“My home,” he answered softly. “Your friends were in no condition to look after you, and I guessed you wouldn’t want me calling your brother.”
“I’m not your responsibility.” But I so wanted to be . Not that it could ever happen because I knew what he was. Once, in another life, I’d have given anything for someone like him, a Daddy . I inhaled sharply, sweat beading the back of my neck at just the thought of the word.
“I was hoping we could be friends.” I looked at him and nearly called him out on the lie. I was as capable of googling someone as the next idiot and I knew who and what he was.
Maddox Rourke, thirty-six, ex-Marine—though actually they never said that. Apparently, there was no such thing as an ex -Marine and looking at him, I got that. He was one of four owners of probably the most successful group of nightclubs in Florida. Multi-millionaires. Not that money impressed me. I didn’t care what his bank balance was, and I supposed, coming from money, that made me a shallow bitch. There were plenty of people today that would go hungry.
I realized after going down my rabbit hole that he was standing silently and letting me work out in my head whatever he thought I needed to work out. Which wasn’t anything. What I needed to do was go. “If I could borrow a phone I’ll get an Uber.”
He stared down at me. “No need. I’ll take you. Back to your apartment or your friend’s?”
I didn’t have an answer. I knew I should go back to my apartment, but I didn’t want to be on my own, and I definitely wasn’t going anywhere near Tammy’s. I decided to stand and at least look like I was decisive, so I swung my legs around and stood. Two things happened. I realized first that I was dressed in what looked like a man’s shirt, and second that my legs hadn’t gotten the memo about standing. He caught me before I crumpled, and I closed my eyes as humiliation stung.
“Steady there,” he soothed, and laid me back down, arranging my pillow and covering me up. Hell, he was tucking me in and my eyes stung harder. “I know you don’t know me well,” he said gently and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your phone is fully charged and just there.” He nodded to the small nightstand. “But I think you need some food before you try that again.”
I swallowed down my humiliation, but I still didn’t know what to say. “Use the phone. Let anyone that will be worried know where you are while I heat some soup.” And then he patted my hand…like a child . Was that it? Did he still feel responsible for me? He was a Marine so they had to have that drilled into them.
That made sense. It wasn’t me. I was an obligation . I adored my brother and I knew he loved me, but even that relationship carried obligation. He’d stepped in for my parents after they‘d died, and while a tiny part of me still craved a Daddy, I didn’t need another father.
I picked up the phone and read my single text message from Tammy much earlier the previous day asking me where I was about an hour after we’d arrived at Salvation. I’d probably been in the bathroom. I had nothing from today and it was past two in the afternoon. So much for friends. Or were they? I’d paid for everything last night and apart from one token protest from Tammy, no one else had said a word.
Was this what my life had been reduced to? Buying friends?
“Bit of a boring staple, but I know you’re not a vegetarian, so I made chicken soup.” He flushed. “Sorry, it’s out of a can. If it’s something you like, I’ll learn how to make it.”
And just like that he charmed me. Learn how to make it? This man owned many successful businesses, apart from the whole rescuing people thing, and he was going to learn to make his own soup?
“I’m a little worried over the salt content, but the rolls are organic,” he announced. He sat the tray down on the nightstand, then proceeded to gently help me sit up, pile pillows up behind me, then pick up the bowl and spoon because he intended on feeding me.
And I was just going along with it. I knew I shouldn’t. I knew…lots of things. Like accepting care of any sort would bring out my Little.
Which was dangerous and I couldn’t possibly allow it to happen. She was gone for good. But while all this was happening, he’d scooped up a spoonful of soup that smelled absolutely divine and blown on it . I should be freaking out about germs, but the only thing in my mind was that he didn’t want me to burn myself, so when the spoonful headed toward my lips, I simply opened my mouth.
“Good girl,” he whispered and beamed, and my heart just stopped.
I froze, my eyes widening as I stared at Maddox. Those two simple words sent a jolt through my entire body. My Little side threatened to emerge, craving the praise and care he was offering. But I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't.
"I...I can feed myself," I stammered, reaching for the bowl.
Maddox's smile faltered slightly, but he handed it over without protest. "Of course. I'm sorry if I overstepped."
I focused intently on the soup, avoiding his gaze. Each spoonful was a struggle as my hands shook slightly. Part of me longed to let him take over again, to sink into the comfort he offered. But I couldn't trust it. Couldn't trust him, but especially I couldn’t trust myself.
"Clare," Maddox said softly after a few minutes of tense silence. "I know you're scared. What happened to you was terrible, and you have every right to be wary. But I hope you know that I would never hurt you."
I set the spoon down, finally meeting his eyes. "Why are you doing this? Taking care of me, being so...nice?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I want to help you heal, to feel safe again."
My throat tightened with emotion. "I don't know,” I whispered, torn how to respond. This was dangerous territory. I couldn't let myself fall into old patterns, no matter how comforting they felt in the moment.
Jeremy had felt like this at first. Caring, genuine. And look what had happened.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
I set the bowl aside, suddenly not hungry anymore. The weight of everything—my past, my fears, this moment—pressed down on me. I wanted to believe Maddox, to trust in his kindness. I bit my lip and almost gnawed on it. I desperately wanted to curl up in my onesie with the panda bears on and suck my popsie, but I’d thrown them all away. It wouldn’t happen ever again.
"I appreciate what you've done," I said quietly, "but I think I should go now."
Maddox nodded, his expression a mix of concern and disappointment. "Alright. At least let me drive you home. Your brother’s?"
I mumbled about having an apartment, hesitated, then agreed. The thought of an Uber felt overwhelming right now.
As we drove, the silence hung heavy between us. I stared out the window, watching the familiar streets pass by after giving Maddox the address. When we pulled up to my apartment building, Maddox turned to me.
"Clare, I know you're not ready to trust anyone right now. But please know that if you ever need anything—even just someone to talk to—I'm here."
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "Thank you," I managed to whisper, before quickly exiting the car. I knew he wouldn’t drive away until I was inside.
Inside my apartment, I leaned against the closed door, sliding down to sit on the floor. Tears flowed freely now as conflicting emotions warred within me. Part of me yearned to run back outside, to let Maddox take care of me, to feel safe and protected. But the larger part, the scared, broken part, knew I couldn't risk it.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
But I wouldn’t be. Not ever again.