“The who you didwhatto?!” I thought I might be sick again.
“I must have forgotten to mention that part,”
I spluttered stupidly, “Yeah, I guess so.” James chuckled, and I considered attacking him.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I asked. “Do you swear you didn't hide this from me intentionally?”
“I swear.”
And for whatever reason, I chose to believe him.
Chapter 6
Claire
Afterleavingthemento clean up, I spent about an hour sitting on the tiled shower floor in our ensuite bath. The waterfall showerhead sprayed over me in a constant deluge. My skin glowed bright red from the heat, pressure, and my efforts to get this fucking day off me. Initially, I hoped I could wash what I saw off my skin, out of my hair, and from my mind. But after scrubbing myself half raw, I had to admit that it didn’t work.
The violent images stuck too deeply to be washed away, corrupting my everyday memories. Gavin speaking through mangled lips and regarding me through unseeing eyes replaced the picture of him smiling while offering me my dream job. A zombie dragging his spilled guts across the library’s tiled floor replaced the suspicious way he used to skulk around.
Despite my slight nausea and extremely uncomfortable skin, I didn't regret my decision to go out there. I needed to get used to seeing this kind of thing if I wanted Mason to take me seriously as a part of his world. The men he employed also had to see me in that capacity, or I could get used to them acting as Lawrence had. Hopefully, the next time, I wouldn't puke, and they wouldn’t hesitate to speak in front of me. Without a doubt, I knew therewouldbe many next times.
I crawled out of the shower and toweled myself dry. The scars on my stomach were hurting less. I was unsure whether they were healing or if I thought about them less frequently. The angry pink circles looked just a little less red and no longer made me spiral. I had a purpose larger than drowning in pain. There was an enemy to swing at and real people to save. That knowledge alone was enough to ground me.
Ignoring the festive Christmas pajamas gifted to me that morning, I dressed in black sweats and a long-sleeved tee, comfy and decidedly un-jolly. I put on an extra thick sweater; even though it was warm in the house, I was unable to shake the cold that settled into my soul.
My hair hung wet, freezing the back of my neck as I walked through the house. Unsurprisingly, I found Lawrence patrolling near the front door. No one ever used to watch the front, but Lawrence had taken a more hands-on approach since the explosion. I was immensely grateful for the man who didn’t come from a criminal lifestyle.
His regard toward me went so much deeper than was required of his position. Lawrence gave me a sense of solidarity in this new and scary life despite being a well-trained and seasoned warrior.Thatinformation surprised the hell out of me when Mason had the great bearing of his soul, but it explained why he trusted Lawrence to keep me safe.
I smiled and waved at Lawrence, offering an olive branch. He didn’t wave back, and his stark lack of a smile told me he was still angry I hadn’t followed his advice earlier. Oh well, I was still annoyed with him, and we would both get over it. I continued down the hall, ignoring the people-pleasing part of me that wanted to apologize.
The door to Mason’s office gave quickly, surprisingly unlocked and slightly ajar. He sat behind his desk with a pensive look aimed at his computer screen. His green eyes looked cool and nearly gray with his focus and the blue light from the screen. His hands had done a number on the loose blonde curls, but he looked sexy as fuck, all mussed and serious.
His gaze flicked up, and the hard lines around his mouth tightened. “Claire,” he sighed, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Don’t sound so happy to see me.” I walked toward him, and he held out his arms to welcome me into his lap.
“Of course I’m happy to see you. You’re the only person I want to see.” I relaxed into him. Sighing happily as his arms wound tightly around me, a satisfied moan slipped out as his lips touched my neck.
“And you’re theonlyperson Iwant to see.” I ran my lips over his cheek and across his eyelids, “Not to ruin the moment, but speaking of things I want and don’t want to see….”
“It’s all cleaned up, baby.” His husky, caring way of speaking sent blood rushing through my veins. I felt a little icky responding that way to him telling me they cleaned up a dead body, but in this unreal situation, my sense of right and wrong had suffered greatly. The love and lust between us were as familiar as breathing and easy to fall back on.
“Mm, that’s good.” I looked around the office, thinking of the first time I saw it last week.
Back then, Mason took a call and left the door open, unaware he forgot to mention it among the many secrets he’d kept from me. When I realized one of the places he disappeared to was actuallyinsidethe house, I stormed in, not giving a shit that he was speaking to a client from his law firm, and threw a small but hefty globe against the wall. Mason already had the hole in the drywall repaired as if it had never happened, but it did, and I still felt shitty about it.
I didn’t pride myself on that type of behavior—or a lot of my recent behaviors, for that matter—and the sight of the ever so slightly redder paint filled me with shame. The walls were partially paneled in a glossy black wood and the rest a deep bloody red. So I supposed it was good that I damaged the more manageable portion to fix.
The whole look was intensely masculine and incredibly sexy. The room smelled like cigars and leather couches. I wondered if Mason smoked them while working here; I didn’t know. There were so many things about him I still didn’t know.
He’s trying. I reminded myself, and he was.
He sighed before he said, “I can tell you’re thinking of something unpleasant, so it may not be the time to bring this up, but you can’t go back to the library.” I had stiffened in preparation for what he might say but immediately softened again.
“I think that’s pretty obvious, Mason.” My cheek pressed against his shoulder tiredly, allowing him to bear some of the heaviness. The sight of Gavin’s dead and eviscerated body left me exhausted, sick with nerves, and ready to dissociate.
He pulled back, looking me over dubiously, “You’renotgoing to be difficult about this?”