AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Gabriel, look at me.” Claudia grabs my wrists, tugging me back down onto the sofa. Those frosty eyes fix on mine. “I need you to understand. You can’t do this. I need you, Gabriel. I know you’re not used to being needed. I know it’s freaking you out. But I’m not going to bullshit you or sing you lullabies and hide what’s really going on. You told me yourself people have done that to you for your entire life, and I respect you too much to be one of them. So I’m going to lay it out for you, but you have to listen.”
I nod. I can’t move even if I wanted to – those fierce eyes of hers make it clear that to move is to die, and while I imagine death by Claudia August to be an exquisite way to go, I can’t help but be aware of her knee dangerously close to my dangly bits. Noah’s warnings about her echo in my ears.
“Just because we sorted out Brentwood and Alec doesn’t mean I’m safe. There are bad people who will kill me to keep me from my father’s empire, even though I don’t want it. I need you to not fuck shit up for me because it will end with one of us getting a bullet between the ears. Got it?”
I stare at her, trying to make the words sink in. This is the same speech I’ve heard a million times before, from my parents, my manager, from Dylan. I mean, it’s never been delivered by a hot, badass queen before, so maybe that’s all I need to make it stick. I reach out to run my fingers along her thigh. Although she shudders with need as I trail fire across her skin, she slaps my hand away.
“Here’s where things are different – I’m not your parents. I’m not Dylan.”
How is she reading my thoughts?
“I’m Claudia August, and maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you because you know nothing about my world, but trust me, the very mention of my name alone will have men in Tartarus Oaks quaking in their boots. I may have been in hiding for years, but I am my father’s daughter. I’m Claudia August and I’m here to protect you. I won’t leave you. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I will die for you. Got it?”
I won’t leave you.
They’re just words.
Four words that don’t even sound that great put together. They’re not exactly poetry worthy of being immortalized through the ages.
But on Claudia’s lips, they bring tears springing to my eyes.
I know all too well the power of words to heal or maim. I walk out on stage every night and swing words as weapons. Poetry is the knife I wield against my enemies, but it’s also the knife I use to cut myself. Every cruel word my parents spoke to me is etched under my skin.
Disgrace. Degenerate. Pervert. A worthless blight on our family name.
Claudia speaks aloud the secret wish of my heart. That someone, somewhere, believes I’m worthy.
I swallow. I can’t speak or I’ll burst into tears – not the manly kind of tears women find endearing, but heaping great snotty sobs that’ll turn Claudia away in disgust. And she’s still kneeling over me with no panties on. No bloody way do I want her going anywhere.
I swallow again. The demons do a stabby dance on the inside of my eyeballs. She tilts her head, waiting.
I do the only thing I can do. I kiss her. I claim her lips and I pour my pain into her. I open her lips with mine and I open the wound that is my heart and I let her see. I let her see it all.
I let her see my father’s rage, my mother’s cold cruelty. I let her see the duchess throw my guitar over a parapet, smashing it to pieces on the cobbles. I let her see the duke walk in on Dylan and I kissing and throw us both out on our arses. I let her see the empty seats in the audience when I invited them to my Royal Albert Hall concert, and the statement they made to the press when I changed my name. I let her see Dylan’s cold, dead, angry eyes when I found him in the hotel bathroom, the scrawled note in his hands.
I let her consume all the dark secrets I held close, all the times I made the wrong decisions, the times I pushed away people who wanted to love me because I was afraid they’d turn into my parents. All the times I believed that this would be different, this time they would see me, and I was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Claudia’s lips open mine. She draws my pain into herself. What she gives in return is the ice of her strength – she cools the pain until it is beyond numb, like holding ice against your skin for too long. It becomes needles that stab and stab and stab but it’s not pain, not really, but a euphoria. It’s knowing you’re alive.
When I pull away, Claudia’s cheeks are glistening. “Oh, Gabe.” She strokes my face. And I realize it’s not her tears wetting her skin, but mine. So much for not crying in front of her.
Behind her, a shadow descends the stairs. Noah. He’s been sleeping in my bed, the bastard. I hope he didn’t use any of my toys. He’s got on a pair of black jeans slung low over his hips, and no shirt. His chest is covered in deep scratches. Claw marks stretching beneath his clover tattoo. And are those… burns?
Envy stabs at me. I am such a bellend. It should be me with Claudia’s claws across my skin.
“You lucky bastard,” I croak out as he moves into the kitchen and flicks on the coffee machine. “I missed all the fun.”
“Serves you right for getting shit-faced,” Noah calls from the kitchen.
Claudia puffs out her bottom lip. “I had plans, Gabriel. I’d love to show you sometime.”
“How about now?” Nothing like Claudia August’s naked thighs to silence the dancing demons in one’s head. I stroke her hair, letting the golden strands fall between my fingers. “I had plans, too. You don’t know what you missed out on. Marlowe might have that mopey dark horse thing going on, but does he know what to do with a jar of honey and a colonial butter churner?”
“You’re ridiculous—”
I don’t care that Noah’s watching. I lay her back against the sofa and run my fingers down the inside of her thighs. All I want to do is make her feel good. Safe. Wanted.
All the things I’ll never be.
