Page 11

C lara’s heart beat fast as she walked off the dance floor, every step away from him heavy and wrong. How she could feel hot and needy but also hurt and frustrated all at the same time, she had no idea. But she did. She felt all of it.

He didn’t want to be anything more than friends, but then he danced with her, held her, like she was all that existed in the world. He looked at her like…God, she couldn’t even explain how. Like he wanted her. Really wanted her, and not in a friendship or sisterly way.

She stopped beside Indie, grabbed the martini from her cousin’s fingers, and downed half the glass in one go.

Indie turned away from Deb and Briar and gave her a sympathetic look. “Hey. You okay?” She kept her voice low so it only reached Clara’s ears.

“I don’t know. He makes me feel like this thing between us isn’t one-sided, but then he just shuts down and walks away.”

Indie stepped closer, slipping a strand of Clara’s hair behind her ear. “If he’s too scared to love you the way you deserve to be loved, that’s his loss.”

“Then why does it feel like mine too?”

“Because you love him.”

“More than I should.”

“Who’s to tell us how much we should love someone?”

There should be a rule. If the feelings were unrequited, then the love faded or died or something equally conclusive. She needed to move on.

She opened her mouth to tell Indie exactly that, but Helen passed their table, bumping Clara’s shoulder and looking so unbalanced, Clara wouldn’t be surprised if she toppled over.

She watched the other woman head for the back door, which led to the alley, probably to be sick.

Clara handed the glass back to Indie. “I’m just going to check on Helen.”

“I’ll come.”

“No, it’s okay. Stay. Drink. I won’t be long.”

She wove through the crowd, only stopping when she stepped outside to see Helen throwing up behind a dumpster.

The poor thing. Clara jogged over, which wasn’t an easy task in her heels, and held Helen’s hair back. “It’s okay. I’m here.” She used her other hand to rub Helen’s back.

When Helen finally stopped throwing up, she looked behind her, cheeks red and eyes teary. “Clara?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I’m so embarrassed. You should go back inside.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. Everyone’s been here at one point or another. And I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”

Helen’s brows furrowed but before she could respond, she groaned and looked away, her stomach heaving once again.

Clara went back to rubbing her back.

During chemo, there’d been days where she’d been so sick she hadn’t been able to keep any food down. Her mother and Indie had taken turns rubbing her back, and God, it was the only thing that had even slightly made her feel better.

Finally, Helen straightened once again.

“Are you okay?” Clara asked.

“No.” She hiccupped. “I’m so silly. I shouldn’t have drunk so much. But things are so stressful.” She stood but wobbled on her feet.

Clara wrapped an arm around her waist. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Can you reverse time to when the hospital wasn’t in chaos?”

“What do you mean?”

“A dead patient…other patients going into heart failure and respiratory depression…”

Clara frowned. “Really?”

Helen opened her mouth to respond, but the door opened and two guys wearing leather jackets stepped out, one of them being the guy Helen had been dancing with.

Immediately, dread trickled through Clara’s body, settling in her belly when they looked straight at Helen before starting toward her.

Clara forced herself to straighten. “We’re just going back inside.”

The taller guy smiled, but it seemed…off, and made the pit in Clara’s belly deepen. “I’ll take her home.”

Hell no . “No need. I’m already taking her home.” She pulled Helen closer.

The taller guy stepped forward, his height suddenly feeling threatening. “She and I were having a great chat inside. Really getting to know each other. She’s happy to go with me.”

The jerk said that so confidently.

He took another step forward, and Clara instinctively inched in front of Helen. “ No . We’re going back inside now.”

The second guy lifted a brow. “I don’t think so, honey.” Then he stepped forward, and before Clara realized what he was doing, he slid a strong arm around her waist.

“Hey! Get your hands off me.”

She shoved at his chest, but he just laughed as he tightened his arm and tugged her away from Helen.

Helen stumbled, and the taller guy caught her. “I’ve got you, honey.”

“No…” Helen tried to push him away.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Clara’s pulse took off, and she was a second away from kneeing the guy in the balls when the back door flew open and a very tall, very angry-looking Holden stepped out, closely followed by Jesse.

Holden tipped back his beer, the cold liquid doing nothing to cool the burning frustration running through his body.

She’d seen it. She’d seen everything he was trying to hide. His want for her. His need. Hell, he told himself he’d moved here for Jesse. To be closer to his best friend and his found family, but he wasn’t even sure if that was true anymore.

Jesse came to stand beside him. “Hey. You okay?”

“No. I might head home.”

“Why don’t you have a beer with me first?”

“I—”

Indie suddenly ran up to their table, panic in her eyes. “You both need to go check on Clara— now .”

Holden’s back straightened as he scanned the bar. “Where is she?”

“She followed one of the women from the hospital outside,” Indie said in a rush. “I was watching the door, waiting for them to come back in but they didn’t, and two guys in leather jackets followed them out there. I didn’t get a good feeling from them.”

Holden was moving before Indie had finished speaking, dread burning through his gut.

When he reached the back door, he pushed outside—and what he saw made him see black. One guy with his arms around Helen, and the other holding Clara, who struggled against him.

He was a fucking dead man.

Jesse cursed from behind him. Holden shot forward.

Suddenly, the guy holding Clara threw her to the side and withdrew a gun, but before he could even aim, Holden grabbed the man’s wrist and squeezed. He cried out and dropped the pistol. Then Holden spun and threw him against the dumpster.

Noise sounded behind him, a grunt followed by a hiss—Jesse detaining the other guy. Holden ignored it, because this dumb fuck was getting up.

The second the asshole was on his feet, he growled and ran, body low as he sprinted toward Holden.

He stepped to the side at the last second and grabbed the guy around the middle before spinning—this time throwing him headfirst into the brick wall.

A crack sounded, followed by the guy’s body hitting the ground.

Then he was still.

Holden turned back to see Jesse’s guy down too, and Becket crashing outside, fury on his face. “What the hell is going on?”

Jesse lifted his phone, probably calling the station, while Holden ran to Clara. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She was breathless and her eyes were wide. Shock.

He cupped her cheek. “Did he hurt you?” Because if he did, Holden was turning back to the fucker and murdering his ass.

“No,” Clara said softly. “He didn’t hurt me. They wanted to take Helen, and I said no.”

Holden followed her gaze to Helen. Jesse was by her side, hand on her back.

Suddenly, Becket and Indie were beside them, pulling Clara up and into their arms.

Holden’s hands twitched to bring her back to him. He wanted her as close as fucking possible. He fisted his hands to stop himself.

It didn’t take long for Jesse’s deputies to arrive.

By that time, the guys were starting to wake up and there were even more people in the alley.

Briar, Deb, and Malcolm all huddled around Helen, who was looking paler by the second.

Even Clara’s roommate was there, but she seemed to be more of an observer than anything else.

“Are you okay?” Becket asked, as he came to stand beside Holden.

Holden watched as Clara told her version of events to the deputies.

Then he looked at the back of the sheriff’s car, where the two men sat in handcuffs.

“No. He had his hands on her, and I can just imagine what would have happened if Jesse and I hadn’t come out here when we did. I want to murder them both.”

“Me too, brother. Me too.” Rage coated Becket’s words. Rage that matched Holden’s.

When Clara was done talking to the deputies, Indie slipped an arm around her waist. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Holden stepped forward. “I’ll take her.”

Clara shook her head. “You don’t need—”

“I do.” He needed to see that she got home safely the same as he needed air to breathe.

Indie looked at Clara. “What do you want?”

Clara looked up at Holden, and she must have seen something in his eyes, maybe the sheer desperation to be close to her, because her features softened as she turned to Indie. “I’ll go with Holden.”

The two women hugged, then Holden slipped an arm around Clara’s waist and led her to his truck. He felt her questioning gaze on him as they walked, but he put all his energy into tamping down the fury, especially as he passed the assholes in the car.

They remained silent the entire drive to her place. But he shot her plenty of glances. Her face was always too pale. Her brows knitted too tightly together.

It wasn’t until her door was unlocked and opened that she finally turned and spoke to him. “Holden…I’m okay.”

“That could have played out very differently.”

“But it didn’t.” She touched his arm. “Thank you for keeping Helen and me safe.”

He inched closer, barely leaving a breath of space between them. “Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Walk into a deserted alley behind a bar late at night.”

This time a flash of annoyance shaded her indigo eyes. “I was checking on a friend. I didn’t ask those jerks to follow us.”

“No one ever asks for trouble, but it happens. That’s why you need to be smart.”

“You don’t think I was smart?”

“Not tonight.”

Her lips thinned, voice harder now. “Okay, well. I should get inside.”

She took a step into the house, but he grabbed her arm to stop her. “Clara. Promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll keep yourself better protected next time.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because I can’t lose you.”

The annoyance shifted into something else. Confusion maybe, like she was trying to figure him out.

“Holden, you’re not going to lose me.” When he didn’t respond, she reached up and cupped his cheek. “I’m right here.”

That floral scent hit him so hard that it was all he could smell. Paired with the feel of her palm against his cheek…she was everywhere. Yet still not close enough.

“Tell me you know that,” she whispered. “Tell me you know that I’m here to stay.”

Her thumb moved over his cheek, leaving a trail of heat on his skin.

He couldn’t stop himself. With a small growl, he dipped his head and kissed her.

At first, she was still beneath him. So still that he wasn’t even sure she was breathing. Then she melted into him, her lips softening and moving against his.

It was an instant rush of need. A complete obliteration of the world around him.

He wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer, needing her entirely against him. She was soft and warm and everything he craved.

A feminine sigh slipped from her lips, puncturing his chest. When her lips parted, he took advantage, sliding inside. Then he was tasting her. Curving his tongue around hers and making her a part of him.

Gently, he pushed her against the wall beside the door, crowding her. Surrounding her. Memorizing every little sound she made.

She felt like she was his . And fuck, he wanted that.

He was on the brink of losing his goddamn mind when she moaned. And there was something about the sound cutting through the silence that brought a whisper of reality back. And with it came the familiar fear. Fear of needing Clara. Fear of loving her.

It crawled around his chest, wrapping around his lungs and making his next breath feel impossible.

Quickly, he stepped away, and the second that connection broke, he felt cold. The kind of cold that crept beneath the surface of his skin, settling into places that had been on fire moments ago.

“I’m sorry.”

She blinked once. Twice. Three times. Like she was trying to chase away the haze. “You’re sorry? I’m not.”

He took another step back. Right now, distance was his only protection. “You should go inside.”

“Is that what you want?”

No . A voice inside him screamed the word. It was so fucking loud it was deafening. But there was also this other voice, one that told him to run. Get away. To not look back. And that voice was more familiar.

“Yes. I’ll wait until I hear the click of the lock.”

Disappointment darkened her expression, and maybe a bit of hurt. But she nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Holden.”

She stepped inside, and the click of the lock was loud and so fucking final.

He didn’t move right away. He just stood there, his feet feeling heavy as he wondered what the hell he’d just done.