by Sykes, Julia
But even my slight movements made my body ache in the most delicious ways, a sweet reminder of the joy Clayton had given me tonight.
“Making you happy makes me happy.”
Deciding not to let Smith’s words bother me, I closed my eyes and snuggled into Clayton, basking in my post-orgasmic glow.
Chapter 15
When I came home from work the next day, my lingering elation was instantly doused by the sound of low, pained whimpering.
“Greg!” I cried as I rushed to join him in the bathroom. He was lying on the floor, curled up into himself and rocking back and forth. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, and I could see that he had emptied the meager contents of his stomach before I had arrived. Oh, God, how long had he been like this?
“Greg.” I fought to make my voice calm and soothing, and I tenderly pushed his sweat-soaked hair back off his brow. When he opened his eyes at my touch, my own stomach clenched at the sight of the desperate pain that filled them. “You’re going into withdrawal. How long has it been since you last used?”
“Almost two days,” he panted out. “Oh, God, Rosie.” He shuddered beneath my hand. “It hurts.”
“That’s not good, Greg.” I hated myself for saying it, but he still needed some of the drugs in his system or he might die. “I know you want to quit, and I’m proud of you. But unless you’re going to go into rehab you can’t just stop like this. Where’s your stash?” I felt sick at the idea that I was offering to help my brother get high, but I didn’t have a choice.
“I don’t have any,” he groaned. “And they won’t give me any more. The FBI moved in on one of the other tribes. The Kings don’t trust the new recruits anymore. They’ve turned us all away, Rose, and I can’t afford to pay them.”
“It’s okay, Greg,” I assured him. “That’s okay. Clayton will understand. You’ve done all you can. Come on. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Greg’s eyes went wide with panic, and he jerked out of my reach. “No! I…” He licked his lips nervously and ran his hand up and down over the crook of his elbow. “I can’t quit. I mean, I can’t stop. If I don’t go to the Kings, then I can’t help the FBI anymore. I won’t be able to get back at them for what they tried to do to you, and you won’t be safe.” His eyes were feverish with need, and his voice shook. He looked as though he was barely clinging onto his sanity.
My brows drew together, and I looked at him sternly, ready to give him some tough love. “I appreciate that you want to protect me, baby brother, but I’ll be fine. Clayton won’t let anything happen to me. He’ll understand that -”
“Clayton!” Greg growled, suddenly looking feral. “It’s always ‘Clayton’ with you now! What about me, Rose?! I’m your goddamn brother!”
“Greg, calm down,” I tried to make the order steady, but my tone was laced with panic. I could see him slipping away from me as his monstrous addiction dug its cruel claws into him. He wrenched out of my grasp, jumping to his feet and putting distance between us. I followed him into the living room, my movements slow and careful as I held up my hands before me as though to ward off a rabid animal. “Come to the hospital with me. I know this is hard, but you’ll feel better.”
“You don’t know anything!” He bellowed. “You don’t know what this feels like! I’m fucking dying, Rose! Are you just going to let me die, or are you going to help me?”
Okay, now I was pissed. He was trying to manipulate me into buying him drugs? No fucking way. I put my hands on my hips, making my body larger so that I could block his way to the door. “You’re going to die if you don’t quit, Greg,” I said sharply. “So yes, I am going to help you. But not in the way you want.”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and started to dial Clayton’s number.
“What are you doing?” Greg asked, sounding scared and angry.
“I’m calling Clayton,” I informed him. “You won’t seem to listen to me, but maybe he can talk some sense into you.”
Despite his unsteadiness on his feet, Greg moved quickly, and the phone was suddenly flying out of my hand. My back was against the wall, and his forearm was pressing ruthlessly against my windpipe. His mouth was twisted in a snarl and his nostrils flared, insane fury etched in every twisted line of his face. He was physically weakened since his addiction had caused him to start wasting away, but now a desperate, starved beast was lending him strength. My hands were on his arm, struggling to pull him away from me. But he just pressed harder, blocking off my air entirely.
“You love him,” he accused. “You love him, and you don’t love me anymore. Well I’m not going to quit. He can’t make me.”
My heels drummed against the wall where Greg had lifted me from the floor with his grip on my throat. My lungs were burning, and my fingertips were starting to go numb. I was no longer fighting, but my body was convulsing in his hold as dark spots began to dance before my eyes.
Just as I began to go limp, my clawing hands dropping from his arm, I saw Greg’s expression melt from one of mindless fury to horrified anguish. He stepped back and released me abruptly, and I collapsed to the floor, clutching my throat as the harsh gulps of air that I managed to draw in burned their way down into my lungs. When I looked up, I could hardly make out my brother through my watering eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Rosie. I’m so sorry.” His voice was trembling; he sounded terrified. I heard the pounding of his footsteps moving further and further away as he fled the apartment.
“Greg!” I tried to cry out, to call him back to me. But all that came out was a harsh rattle, and I began coughing painfully.
I had to get help. Someone had to stop him before he did something that got himself killed. With a great effort, I forced my limbs to move, and I somehow managed to drag my body across the room to get to my phone.
“Hi, beautiful,” he answered sweetly.
“Clayton,” I forced out raggedly.
“Rose? What’s wrong?” His voice was calm, but I knew him well enough now to detect the hint of fear in it.
“It’s Greg. Please. Someone has to go get him. He’s out of his mind, Clayton. He…” I tripped over the words, hardly able to believe them even though I had experienced it firsthand. “He almost killed me.”
“Where are you now, Rose? Where is Greg?” He sounded truly panicked now.
“I’m okay, Clayton,” I assured him. “But Greg isn’t. He needs help. He just ran out of our apartment, and I couldn’t stop him. Please send someone after him.”
“I’m going to have to hang up now Rose so I can call Sharon and Smith. Sharon will come right up, and Smith will go after Greg. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay,” I breathed. “Thank you.”
I ended the call so that Clayton could get on with it. Having done what I could, I allowed my body to relax, pressing my face against the cool floorboards as I struggled to return my breathing to some modicum of normalcy. By the time Sharon appeared in the doorway, I was starting to feel in control of my muscles again. If only I weren’t shaking so hard, I might have been able to stand.
“God damn it,” Sharon cursed as she came and knelt beside me. “I just keep fucking up, don’t I? I’m sorry I’m so shitty at my job, Rose.” She sounded weary, defeated.
“It’s not your fault, Sharon,” I insisted. “You weren’t supposed to be in our apartment. You’re supposed to be protecting me from the Kings, not…” I swallowed hard to hold back the tears. “Not my own brother,” I finished softly.
She pursed her lips together, saying nothing as she put a supporting arm around my back to help me to my feet. She guided me to my bed and then crouched before me. Her fingers gripped my chin gently, urging me to lift my face so that she could examine my throat.
“You might have some bruising,” she informed me. “Did you hit your head?”
“No,” I assured her. I didn’t want any paramedics, and I didn’t want to go to the hospital.
Sharon nodded, seeming to understand wit
hout me having to say anything. “You’re going to be fine. Your throat is wicked red right now, and you’ll probably be sore tomorrow, but you don’t need to go the hospital.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
She reached out and took my trembling hand in hers, providing me with silent, steady comfort.
“You should leave now, Sharon.” Clayton’s voice was clipped, and all of his muscles were taut with suppressed anger. I knew he would never physically hurt his friend, but the daggers he was glaring at her clearly communicated that staying was not in her best interest.
Sharon sighed and hung her head, looking crestfallen as she stood to leave. I thought about telling Clayton that she wasn’t at fault and she didn’t deserve his anger, but one look at his livid expression told me it was best if I didn’t get involved.
She paused for a moment as she passed Clayton. “I really am sorry, Clayton,” she said, her voice barely audible. “For Rose, for Claudia. And you almost died…” Her eyes were haunted. “I’m sorry.”
Clayton’s eyes softened slightly, but his jaw was still clenched. He didn’t look at her as she walked away, her shoulders slumped.
“She didn’t mean to let me down, Clayton,” I said gently as he sat beside me.
He grimaced. “That doesn’t change the fact that she did.”
I decided it was best not to say anything more on the matter just now, but I tucked it away for later. Sharon had looked like she could use a friend, and she certainly didn’t need to lose one right now. Clayton would come around once he accepted that I really was okay.
He touched his fingers gently to my throat, tracing the line of the bright red stripe Greg’s arm had left behind. His hand that wasn’t touching me was clenched into a fist at his side.
“I can’t believe he did this to you,” he ground out. “When I find him…”
“What?!” I asked alarmed. “You mean you don’t know where he is? I thought you had people following him!”
Clayton looked slightly pained. “That’s the problem, Rose. He knew we were following him. Apparently he’s sharper than we gave him credit for. He figured out how to evade us. We gave him a cell phone with GPS tracking, but he’s ditched it. Smith is looking for him now.” He squeezed my hand, trying to reassure me. “We know he’s going to go looking for a fix, and we know where he’s been meeting the Kings. We’ll stake out the area and see if he goes there. In the meantime, Smith is going to be checking elsewhere. We’re not going to give up on him, Rose.” His expression hardened. “Not that I’m not tempted to after what he’s done to you, but I swore to you that I would protect him. I’m not going to back out on that.”
I hadn’t wanted to cry – I was sick to death of crying – but Clayton’s solemn promise made me break down. He wrapped his arms around me, tucking my head under his chin as I pressed my face into his chest.
“I’m scared, Clayton,” I admitted, my voice wavering.
His arms tightened around me as his muscles tensed. “We’ll get a restraining order against him until he’s gotten clean, Rose. I won’t let him come near you again. You’re not leaving my sight until this whole mess is behind us.”
“No,” I clarified. “I’m not afraid of Greg. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me. I’m afraid he’s going to die.”
Clayton pulled back from me slightly so my eyes could meet his. When he spoke, his voice was tight with suppressed violence. “I don’t care if he meant to or not. I’m not letting him anywhere near you.”
I sighed heavily, accepting that Clayton’s protection was probably the best thing for me right now. “Greg will be angry with you for keeping me away from him. He’ll be angry with me for choosing to be with you. He accused me of loving you more than I love him. That’s not true.” A sudden realization struck me, an absolute truth that had been hiding in the recesses of my mind until that moment. “But I… I do think I love you, Clayton.”
He took my face in both of his hands, and his eyes burned down into mine with a raw ferocity that took my breath away. “I know I love you, Rose.”
I gasped as the power of the words washed over me. They had never felt so right when spoken from anyone else’s lips. “I love you too,” I said fervently, fully committing to my declaration. “It’s a different love than what I have for Greg, but it’s just as strong. I don’t think I could live without either of you. Hell, I was barely functioning when I met you. But you saw something in me that I had never been able to see.” My smile was lopsided. “And you were every bit as ruthless as I needed you to be in forcing me to acknowledge it.”
Something sparked in Clayton’s eyes. “Speaking of my ruthlessness, I think you’re ready to hear something. I’ve been putting off telling you because I was worried you would get scared and pull away from me. Here.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope.
Having no clue as to what was going on, I took it from him with slightly trembling fingers. If he thought this was something scary enough that it would make me want to run from him, then I wasn’t sure I wanted to see it. When I unfolded the envelope, I saw my name on it, but it had been sent to Clayton’s address. I looked at him quizzically. What the hell had he done?
“Open it,” he ordered.
The seal had already been broken, and I shot him a reproving look. He was changing my address and opening my mail? It seemed we needed to have another talk about boundaries.
As soon as I pulled out the letter that was inside, my heart stopped when my eyes fell on the first few lines.
Dear Miss Baker,
Congratulations! You have been accepted at the Fashion Institute of Technology!
A part of me was thrilled, overawed at the fact that FIT would ever accept me. But mostly I was crestfallen. And a little angry. This was just too cruel.
“What is this, Clayton?” I demanded stormily. “You know I could never afford the tuition. Are you trying to hurt me?”
To my amazement, he smiled at me. “Keep reading.”
I glared at him for a moment longer before doing as he said. As my eyes devoured the rest of the letter, my mouth fell open in shock.
“They…” I began disbelievingly. “They want to offer me a scholarship? Why? My grades were never all that stellar.” I glanced down at the letter again. “Wait. It says here that they were impressed by my sketches.” I fixed Clayton with a hard look. “Explain,” I demanded tersely.
“Working for the FBI allowed me full access to your academic records and your social security number. And I took pictures of your sketches one night after I fucked you senseless. That was all the information I needed to submit your application.”
“Aren’t there some kind of laws against that?” I demanded.
“Against fucking your brains out? Not that I’m aware of. And I’m pretty well-versed on the law.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Against accessing my information like that without my consent!” I clarified hotly.
He shrugged, not looking apologetic in the slightest. “Homeland Security gives me a lot of free rein. I do believe Sharon warned you early on that I’m not above using underhanded tactics when it comes to getting what I want. And what I want is for you to be happy.” He was looking at me more seriously now. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that haughty bitch at Ivory. You deserve so much better than that, Rose. You’re passionate and you’re talented.”
I bit my lip, hesitant to admit my fears. “But what if I fail?” I asked, my voice small.
Worthless, useless. A disappointment.
My whole life, everyone had told me that I would never amount to anything. The desire to try to succeed had been stamped out of me a long time ago.
Clayton tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair back from my face. “Take the chance, Rose,” he urged. “If you did fail, I would be there to catch you. But you’re not going to. I believe in you, Rose. And it’s time you started believing in yourself.”
I looked at the letter again, longingly. I
t was then that I noticed the stipulation. “It says I have to come for an interview before they’ll award me the scholarship.”
“I know,” Clayton said. “And I’ve already informed them that you’ll be there.”
“But… What if they don’t like me? What if I’ve gotten so close and then this gets ripped away from me?” That horrible prospect was too much for me to bear. “I don’t want to go,” I said quietly.
Clayton gripped my chin firmly, and his eyes bored into mine, pinning me to the spot. “You’re going, Rose. Even if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming. Although I’m pretty sure they won’t be so keen to accept you if you make a scene like that.” He cocked his head, considering. “But who knows? Creative types can get away with being eccentric.”
I couldn’t believe he was joking about this. Was he really not going to give me the option of refusing?
No. No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t going to let me give up on myself. And I loved him for that. Suddenly, I saw a whole future opening up before me that I had never even dared to dream up. I could have a job I loved and a comfortable lifestyle. And I could have Clayton. It was better than anything I could have ever imagined before I had met him.
“I’ll go,” I whispered. “Thank you.”
He shot me a cocky smile. “I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking. I’m always right, after all.”
I shot him a cutting look, but there was no real malice in it. “In your opinion,” I amended for him. “But I will concede that you were right this time,” I allowed.
He laughed. “I can work with that. For now.”
His grin was positively devilish as he brought his lips down on mine. My mouth clashed with his fiercely as I poured all of my gratitude and my love for him into the kiss. He responded in kind, the possessive strokes of his tongue communicating his devotion to me.
