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I seal her lips to mine so I can taste her scream. I pull her head back by her hair so I can hear her sobs as she flies apart.
I hold her to me, make her look at me, so she can see what she does to me when I pour my own release inside her.
I love her.
I love her.
I love this beautiful, broken, beyond-my-wildest-dreams woman.
It’s a mantra on my lips as I feel myself surge and pulse inside her. As the liquid warmth spreads through her, around me, and reminds us both that I mean it when I say it.
I love her.
And I will kill anyone who tries to hurt her or take her away from me again.
22
CLARA
I wake up in Demyen’s bed to a text pinging on my phone.
DEMYEN: SOS
I take in a sharp breath. Is it…?
DEMYEN: Willow
My heart drops into the pit of my stomach.
DEMYEN: In my office
DEMYEN: Come now
I throw on the closest clothes that I can find—a shirt and shorts of Demyen’s—before I fly out the door and down the pathway to his office.
Willow is supposed to be at school by now. I should have been woken up to get her ready, to see her off or even take her there. Why didn’t my alarm…?
Demyen.He let me sleep in. He probably thought everything was going to be fine and that I needed the extra few hours of sleep after last night.
Since we didn’t do much sleeping.
Focus!I give myself a little shake and pointedly ignore the delicious ache between my legs—the kind that’s a result of having one’s bed rocked into the wall and then some.
Really, it was his bed. Because that’s where I apparently live now.
You. Are. A. Terrible. Mother.
I shake that thought from my head, too. Because no, I am actually a fantastic mother who’s finally found someone who is a fantastic father to my—our—beautiful daughter.
Who, I discover before even opening the door to his office, is screaming her head off at the top of her lungs.
Bambi meets me on her way out, flustered and doing her damned hardest not to show her frustration. “I swear, Clara, everything was fine! She was fine! We ate breakfast, we got into the car, we drove into the city…”
Oh, no.This was meant to be her first day back to school since the shooting.
The shooting that happened at that exact same location.
“Did it start when you pulled in?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
