31
CLAIRE
There are a million things on my mind right now, but the only one I can focus on is revenge.
For Johnny, for Billy, for all of the girls Griffin ever laid a hand on. For me. For anyone and everyone who has ever been mistreated in this cruel, cruel world.
How can people be so brutal and heartless? The Griffins and Jareds and Franklins…hell, even the Beths that plague this planet. What gives someone the right to abuse and neglect others the way they do?
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Johnny stands there, a hesitant look in his eyes.
“I just can’t believe I let this happen, you know?” I’ve been a fool for how I’ve let people walk all over me my entire life. I thought I was doing the right thing, being passive and not causing any issues when someone wronged me. But what I’ve really been doing is silencing my voice and giving them approval to continue their sick and twisted games.
The more I allow shit to happen, the more they believe they can get away with it. The cycle will never stop unless someone puts their foot down and calls them out for what they’ve done or are doing. And maybe those types of people will never change, but the one thing I do have control over is disallowing them from doing it to me again. I will no longer be the victim, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen to anyone else.
“Claire, you know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Johnny takes a cautious step forward, like he’s afraid I might explode if he makes any sudden moves.
“What time is it?”
Johnny pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Almost ten.” He slides it back in place. “But listen, you can’t answer a question with a question. Not with this. I need you to understand.” He finally closes the gap between us. “You’ve done nothing to warrant the things that have happened to you.”
I study his serious expression—the hard lines and his stern jaw.
His injuries are healing, but they will leave a lasting mark of what he went through. Scars from his journey to save an innocent. It’s interesting to think about the external marks that show our trauma, when in reality, the damage done inside is much deeper than a faded line on someone’s brow.
He’s stronger than I ever could be, and I admire his ability to selflessly protect and fight for those unable. He’s a noble man, one of the many reasons I…
My heart skips a beat, and my cheeks turn up into a faint smile.
There is a vast darkness consuming my soul, but Johnny is my compass, always guiding me home.
“What is it?” he asks with equal parts confusion and curiosity.
“Nothing.” No way I’m going to be the one to spit it out first, especially this soon. We aren’t even an official couple yet. And after he totally avoided having sex with me, I’m not certain he feels the same.
He runs his hand along my cheek and meets my gaze. “Claire, I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but I’m worried about you.”
I weave my arms under his and tightly squeeze his bare torso. I breathe in his scent and bask in the comfort he easily brings me. “You’re right,” I say into his chest. “I don’t want to hear it.” I pause and add, “I’m fine. Just processing.”
“You know I’m here though, that you can talk to me?” His eyes bore into me with the lingering statement that is more like a question.
And despite us only being in each other’s lives for a little over a month, I’ve grown more connected to him than I have any other human. It’s terrifying and somehow incredibly exhilarating.
I rise onto my tiptoes and kiss the side of his face. “I’m going to be late for work.”
Johnny sighs and his energy completely shifts. He wraps himself around me and picks me off the floor, dragging us both back to the bed.
I giggle and squirm and end up landing on top of him when he plops us onto the mattress.
He quickly grabs the comforter and throws it over us, cocooning us in. “Let’s just stay here all day.”
Moments like this, all of my doubts disappear about the way Johnny feels about me. It’s as though his emotions pour out of him and into me, a direct lifeline of adoration. It’s in the glimmer of his eyes when they look at me. The gentleness of his fingers upon grazing my skin. The care he puts into each kiss he plants on my lips. The change in dynamic when we’re together. He goes from hardened bad boy to such a gentle sweetheart. He’d go to any length to protect me but would never hurt a hair on my head.
And for him, I’d do the same.
I run my finger along his forehead and swoop the unruly strand of dark hair out of his face. I trace the curve of his brow and the shape of his jaw. I study him so intently, desperate to memorize every single detail. I smile at the freckle I had tried to wipe away that night I had found him in that alley, beaten and left behind.
His beauty stirs something inside of me I’ve never felt before. A rampant lust and longing I haven’t experienced with anyone else. I attribute the intensity to the powerful connection we have. The safety I feel with him allows me to let down walls I didn’t realize I had, deepening that bond.