Enforcer

by Ryleigh Rhodes

  "Where's the thermometer?"

  I pointed to the nightstand. "You should go home. I could be contagious." And my scars aren't hidden!

  "I'm staying." He placed the thermometer in my ear, pressing the button until it beeped. Clay looked down and sighed. He pulled the remaining covers away from me. "One-oh-four point three, go take a shower. I'll bring more peppermint tea," Clay said, as he stood and left the room.

  The thought of a cold shower sent my stomach churning. I rushed into the bathroom and heaved into the toilet. How was there even anything left to throw up? After my stomach settled, I leaned against the bathtub. Pulling my knees to my chest, I rested my head upon them, hoping to relieve the sudden dizziness.

  Clay entered the room, and calmly leaned against the vanity.

  "We need to bring your temp down, or we're going to have to take you to the ER."

  "I'm not going to the ER," I mumbled. It was bad enough I work fifty plus hours a week there. I'd be damned if I was going to show up there on a precious vacation day. Clay offered me his hand. Accepting his help off the floor, I faltered slightly, grabbing onto the vanity.

  His thumb brushed my cheek. "I don't want to go to the ER either, but you're scaring me. So please get in the shower. You'll feel better once the fever is down." Clay turned on the shower.

  "Do you need help?" Clay asked.

  A tear fell down my cheek and I nodded. He swiped the tear away with his thumb. A few pale scars showed on my upper arm. The Kevlar vest I wore during the ambush had minimized scarring to my abdomen.

  My thigh had taken the most damage causing me to spend more time in therapy to regain strength and mobility. With time the scarring had faded from a bright purple to pale pink. My thigh was not sleek and smooth, it resembles something similar to bad acne scars, but worse, bigger. Physically, I was healed. Psychologically, I had baggage and I didn't want people knowing about or seeing my scars. At first it didn't bother me, the scars. It wasn't until C.B. rejected me that I kept myself safe with layers of clothing.

  "I have scars too. They're not as big or badass, but they're there."

  I nodded, as Clay untied the drawstring on my lounge pants, leaving me in black panties and a spaghetti strap shirt. Clay was the only man who's seen me half naked since my husband's death. It left me feeling very wary, more emotionally cautious. He had the power to hurt me, I didn't think he would, but I didn't think C.B. would either.

  "Are you steady enough to stand on your own?"

  "No." I gripped the vanity harder. Clay stripped down to his boxers, swiftly picking me up. The fast movement sent my head spinning. Entering the shower, I tried to pull in a deep breath, as my skin broke out in goose bumps.

  "FUCK! It's cold," I grumbled.

  "I know, baby." Clay continued to support my weight, but allowed my feet to touch the shower floor. He positioned me further into the cold spray. "A little bit longer, okay?" I nodded, tucking my face into Clay's chest. Wrapping my arms around Clay's muscular waist I started to tremble. It was so cold. I had very little control over my body, and if Clay wasn't bearing the brunt of my weight, my ass would have been on the floor.

  Clay brushed my soaked hair away from my face, trailing kisses across my forehead. I guess he wasn't grossed out by my body. I closed my eyes and quivered as someone knocked on the bathroom door.

  "Yeah?" Clay called out, but stayed in the shower with me.

  "It's Jack ..." He opened the door. "Jesus, she's shaking pretty bad!"

  Oh, God. I knew that Jack and Clay are nothing like C.B. regarding my scars, but it was still mortifying. Neither of them showed any look of disgust, and I hoped that they wouldn't. I didn't need that shit on top of being sick.

  "Can you grab the thermometer, by the bed?" Jack returned quickly, handing the thermometer to Clay. Clay eased it into my ear and pressed the button, waiting for the beep. "Down to ninety nine. It was one-oh-four." Clay turned off the shower.

  "It's a start. She'll be better in the morning after sleep." Jack handed Clay a towel. Wrapping the towel around me he carried me out of the shower. I was still trembling uncontrollably.

  "If you need anything come get me," Jack offered, then left.

  Clay secured the towel around me. I leaned back against the vanity still shaking. "Still feeling dizzy?"

  "No. Just cold, tired, slightly embarrassed," I admitted, close to tears. Two people managed to see scars that I'd successfully hidden for years. YEARS!

  "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Let me go change. Then we'll get you in bed." Clay closed the door behind him.

  Removing the towel, I dropped my wet clothes onto the floor and pulled on some lounge pants. I wrapped the towel around my breasts, hiding them, while managing to tie my wet hair in messy bun. Clay knocked on the door as I was putting the wet clothes in the hamper.

  Clay cleared his throat, "I'll grab a shirt." He returned quickly and handed me a t-shirt.

  I held the shirt in my hand. "I appreciate the help, Clay. I'm going to feel horrible if you get sick too." I glanced down at my feet, wishing the day was over.

  ######

  Clay

  Damn. She felt guilty, which made me feel even worse. I was the reason she was sick. Shit, half the hockey team was out with this stomach bug. "Don't worry about it. I'm going to get a few things downstairs."

  Entering the kitchen, I dug out a Sprite, and a bag of pretzels. Returning upstairs with my loot, I found Claire tucked away in bed. After placing the items on her nightstand, I felt her forehead. Claire's beautiful blue eyes fluttered open, watching me.

  "I'm fine." She pushed my hand from her forehead. "Don't you have practice tomorrow? You should be resting, or something."

  How could she even think about my practice schedule when she had spent half the day vomiting was beyond me.

  "Afternoon practice. Mind if I keep the light on for a bit?"

  "I don't mind." She yawned and within seconds was sound asleep. I envied that skill.

  Settling into bed with my laptop, I hoped that she'd let her guard down and start trusting me soon. I tried not to take it personally that she didn't open up easily, but it still hurt. Opening the laptop, I started working on a questionnaire for an upcoming press release.

  ######

  It was blistering hot, my brow was coated in sweat. I felt like I'd been repeatedly run over by a truck. Kicking off the covers I sat up. Clay glanced away from his computer, looking at me. How could I forget Clay was here?

  This wasn't Clay's first rodeo, at least in regards to me being sick. A sinus infection had brought me to my knees when the twins were two-years-old. Jack and Kristen were out of town at the time. The twins were a royal handful then. He bit the bullet by watching the twins, so I could get a full night's sleep and nurse myself back to health. In a way this was new territory, but not really because he'd sacrificed himself in the past to help me out.

  "How are you feeling, beautiful?" I tried to hold back a giggle which came out as a snort, no way did I look beautiful right now.

  "Sorry. It's hot, probably the fever breaking ... How long did I sleep?" I drank the cold peppermint tea. The cool liquid offered a temporary relief.

  "About three hours. It's after midnight." Clay closed his computer, setting it on the nightstand.

  Sliding out of bed, I tread into the bathroom. Attempting to cool myself down I washed my face. A quick glance in the mirror on the way out, told me I'd seen better days for sure.

  I paused to watch Clay, who was quietly watching me. Walking to the bed, I adjusted the covers, sitting on top of them. I snuggled into my pillows.

  "Why aren't you worried about getting sick and missing practice?" I inquired, turning to face him.

  "I had it Wednesday. It's making the rounds through the team as we speak." He seemed remorseful, most likely because he knew exactly how I felt just then.

  "Well, if Kristen comes down with it, I'm throwing you under the bus. She's already pissed at me because of Sarah."
Clay laughed, as if I was joking.

  "Jack knows I was sick. Do I even want to know why Kristen's mad at Sarah?"

  I shook my head, but told him anyway. "Sarah cheated on Q, with Brady somebody, not the brightest crayon in the box. He's friends with Colin?" I looked at him and he gave me a nod, as if he knew who I was talking about. So I continued, "Craig was with all of them at the wake. He was also quick to name Jack as the one asking them to drop in." I raised my eye brow in question.

  "Damn. I do know them. Jack loves you like a sister. He just wanted to make sure everyone was safe. I was too busy hugging the toilet, and wishing for a quick death. If I hadn't been out of it, I would have instigated the same thing. Get use to it, sweetheart." Smiling, Clay adjusted the pillow allowing him to turn and face me.

  Clay sometimes exuded this alpha-male dominant vibe. It wasn't constant, but I think he knew I'd only tolerate so much of that behavior before I went off on him. I wasn't sure if he'd been keeping it on lockdown because he respected me, or if he was waiting on our relationship to progress before he fully exposed me to that side of him. I knew he had to have a certain level of aggression in him to play in the NHL.

  Don't get me wrong, I was curious how intense he could be in the bedroom. Sawyer treated me like a piece of glass, and for a while I did need that special care. Like every couple, we had our fights, and make-up sex, but it was tame. He always made sure I got mine, before he found his, but sometimes you just want rough, wild, and reckless. I was curious how it could be with Clay.

  "We'll talk about that later. We should try and sleep." Clay nodded in agreement.

  "Don't you want to get under the covers?" he asked. I really wanted to snuggle with Clay, but this fever sweating was making it far too uncomfortable.

  "No. I will, once I quit sweating," I replied, as Clay switched off the lamp. I snuggled closer to him. In the safety of darkness I asked, "Clay ... Does it bother you I still wear my wedding band?" I never stopped wearing them. I hadn't even considered it until Colin mentioned it.

  "Did Kristen say something to you?" Okay. That wasn't an answer to my question.

  "Someone else brought it to my attention, but Kristen made a point to snitch about us to Sarah," I complained.

  "Whenever you're ready to stop wearing it. I want a date next week, without the twins." Dinner without the twins, and that wouldn't involve hospital food? I'm in. Totally.

  "We can arrange that. I did miss you." I was never great with communicating mushy-feeling stuff. Sawyer used actions instead of words to communicate his love for me.

  Clay leaned over and kissed me.

  "I missed you, too. Now go to sleep." Rolling away from Clay, I fell asleep smiling.

  Chapter Six

  It took a while for my motivation to kick in allowing me to drag myself out of bed. My clothes felt grimy. And, considering I sweated like a whore in church last night, I decided fresh clothes were a priority. Pulling on some fleece workout pants and a long sleeve t-shirt¸ I managed to stroll downstairs. I found Q, Jack, and Clay sitting at the table with coffee. The coffee smelled fantastic, but my stomach was still in a fragile state.

  "Morning beautiful." My heart did a happy flutter, knowing I looked like crap warmed over. "How are you feeling?" Clay asked me. I noticed Q take a second look at Clay. He knows something's up.

  "Better ... Hey Q. I didn't know you'd be here this morning." I put the tea kettle on.

  "Kristen invited me for breakfast. I wanted to check on you after the funeral, too." This is what sucked about having two of your best friends casually dating.

  "Fair warning, I'm getting over being sick. Clay was kind enough to pass along a stomach bug. I hope the kids won't get it." Dropping a tea bag in my cup, I waited for the water to boil.

  "I'm going to head out," Jack grabbed his coffee, leaving. That's strange.

  "Do I need to ask about the funeral?" Q asked, staring at his coffee cup.

  "Same shit different day. Drunken drama as always." I gave up on the water boiling, pouring lukewarm water into my cup. At the table, I sat next to Clay, across from Q.

  "Did Sarah behave?"

  Double-fuck-duck! Having this conversation so early in the morning, and without alcohol should be illegal. I was furious at Kristen for calling Q. She could have at least told Q the truth about Sarah instead of passing that burden onto me.

  "How about I ask why you're still with her? You've given her a lot of chances, and you keep getting hurt. I'm starting to wonder if I'm to blame for you staying with her and trying to make it work."

  "Why are you to blame for her cheating on him?" Clay questioned.

  Clay just confirmed Q's suspicions. I briefly glanced at Clay, then focused back on Q. Somehow admitting the full truth seemed too insensitive to me. We'd been down this road so many times, and it never got any easier. It was completely unfair. I loathed Sarah every time she put me in this position.

  "If this is about the guardianship, I can take her off. Do not feel obligated to keep tryin' to make it work. We're all scarred, but she's not interested in settling down. I love both of you. You're great friends to me, and my kids. It's getting harder, and harder for me to be impartial, and act like it's not a big deal that she's hurting you."

  When Sawyer and I first made the decision about the kids' future, Q and Sarah had been a steadfast couple. Obviously things had changed and I needed to update my will. Removing Sarah and listing Jack and Kristen, as guardians needed to happen pronto. If anything happened to me, I want the kids in a steady, loving environment.

  "The guardianship isn't why I stay with her. It's hard to explain, but I do love her." Q held this sense of duty towards Sarah. Sort of like good girls going after bad guys, assuming they can change or fix them.

  "I know you do, but you deserve better. I'm going to call Pohl, and tell him to take you to a strip club. Let loose for a few nights. Kristen will set you up." I sipped my tea.

  Kristen called him here, and left me to drop the news. The least she could do was set Q up on a date. A hot, preferably easy, date.

  "Fine. I'll do it, but only because I know you'll drag me down there regardless." Q finished his coffee.

  "You know me so well! Listen, before you hear from anyone else, I wanted to mention that Clay and I are ... sort of ... dating."

  "Sarah did tell me, but I'm happy for you guys." Q stared Clay down. The honorary brother and protector was coming out in Q. That look did not portray happiness. There was about to be a gauntlet thrown and I preferred not to witness it. Normally, I'd be willing to sit and watch the drama, but I was just too exhausted to argue. Retreating may have been cowardly, but at this particular moment I didn't care.

  "Okay, I'm going to go check on the kids, and Kristen. Please be nice to each other." I left the room quickly.

  ######

  Clay

  I watched her go. "I thought we were friends, but you're acting like there's a problem with Claire and I dating."

  "I don't have a problem with it, as long as you don't revert back into the puck bunny asshat that you were when we first met. I'm the least of your worries. Pohl, Sarah and, from what I hear, Kristen are on the fence about this. You fucking hurt her, they won't find your body," Q openly promised.

  Did Claire always put up with everyone's interference? Or was it just now that they were becoming involved, and that everyone suddenly seemed to care? But, fuck this shit was getting old.