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What kind of man would do this to a woman?
I face the fucker, ready to finish him off, but as I lift my hand, she speaks again. "Let him go, Matthias."
"Clarissa. No!"
"Just let him go." She barely has the energy to speak, and she's wasting it asking for mercy for him?
Patrick takes advantage of my hesitation to straighten up, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor. He takes a step to the side, pushing my hand off him. "You asshole, you heard what my fiancée said. This is between her and me." His breath is thick with alcohol. Is he still drunk from last night? He takes another step, this time forward toward her, and I shove him back against the wall.
"Stay away from her," I hiss.
"Can't do that. I need to give her a little taste of what to expect when she doesn't listen to me when we're together."
I grit my teeth, and before Clarissa can stop me, I spin him around, grab by the hair and slam his face against the wall. The sound of breaking teeth makes me smile.
I yank his head back. "No. Listen to me, and listen carefully, you're done here. I don't ever want to see you around here again. She's not your fiancée anymore."
"Then whose is she?" he snickers, as if he doesn't expect me to actually have an answer.
But today is not his day.
I grip the back of his neck and slam him against the wall again.
"Mine."
Chapter 10
Matthias
IleaveClarissaaloneonly long enough to drag Patrick's barely alive body out of the club and dump him in the back alley. I text Kevin to come and pick him up and drop him off somewhere, anywhere; I don't fucking care.
Just away from the club.
Away from Clarissa.
As I run back up the stairs to her, I'm scared of what I might find when I get there.
She's still sitting on the edge of the couch when I get to the room, her hand touching the side of her cheeks, her eyes almost as colorless as her face. Staring off into the distance, I can only guess what's going through her head.
The silence is eerie.
I wish she were crying or screaming or something...anything...
The thumping in my chest has evolved into an urgent tugging on my rib cage, pulling me to her, an inexplicable need to comfort her, snap her out of this trance.
I run over and kneel by her side, my hand reaching out to touch her before realizing she might not want that.
"Hey... he's gone." My voice comes out shakier than I expected. "Are you okay?"
She doesn't say anything, doesn't even move, not a breath, not a blink.
"Hey... Clarissa." I reach out and this time I make contact, touching her shoulder as gently as I can.
She flinches and her pupils visibly focus and she looks at me, as if she's only just noticing me there.
"Hey." I clear my throat. "Are you okay?" I ask again, because, what else do you ask at a time like this? "Can I get you something?" Every inch of the skin on her arms is covered in goosebumps. "You're cold. Have you got a jacket somewhere?" I get up to grab a sweater I see hanging on the back of a nearby chair.
"No!" she yells, color finally flooding into her eyes. Her scared, glistening eyes. "Don't... don't go... please."
