Page 44 of Clover

“I am not.” I try to smack him in the chest, but my body is so limp and ooey-gooey satisfied that I basically just lift and drop my hand right back where it was on his damp chest.

The hand he has wrapped around my back is slowly drawing circles on my skin, and the soft touch is lulling me to sleep. He’s quiet, and that’s not normal. I can tell he’s thinking. Internalizing whatever it is that’s running through his mind. You wouldn’t think it to look at him, but he thinks quite a lot. Not the normal,what-are-my-plans-for-tomorrowmulling either. Deep and intense things.

“You know—I’m not a good guy Clover, and I won’t ever be. There are things I do that you wouldn’t like. There are times where things will get ugly. Where people can get hurt, and no matter how much I want to protect you every second of every fucking day, I won’t be able to.” His chest rises and falls with a shaky breath, and with my ear pressed to him, I can hear his heart beating. Usually steady, strong and rhythmic is now wary and quicker than normal.

“I know. But I’m not afraid. I can handle it. Braxton was… a lapse in judgment. That won’t happen again.”

“I just, if I lost you, fuck Clover, it would kill me.” He’s quiet again, pressing his lips to the top of my head holding me close. There’s more than just possibly losing me eating at him. I hadn’t thought much of it before, not wanting to overstep, but Rosie and Lily were very tight-lipped about what happened to his little sister Robin. It hadn’t occurred to me till this very moment that he could be reliving whatever it was that he experienced with her death while hunting for me.

“Is this about what happened to your sister?” His arms tense around me. Shit, he’s going to clam up just like Rosie and Lily did. I shouldn’t have asked. “I’m sorry you don’t have to answer.”

“It’s okay. I want to. You should know.” A long pause fills the dark room as I allow him the opportunity to organize his thoughts, giving him all the space he needs to process. Neither of us moves. I just hold on tight to him, listening to his heart pick up pace before he speaks again.

“Robin was five, I was eighteen almost nineteen, and I thought I was top dog. Knew everything there was to know about everything. I was so fucking stupid. Obsessed with women and partying. I didn’t care about anything but getting high and laid. Guess not much has changed. Suppose that’s because after she died, I couldn’t bring myself to face the ugly reality of it all. It hurt too much, the guilt and self-loathing. Guess you can say I became an addict then, using booze, sex, and drugs to numb everything. Except I never came out of it. I just stayed there numb. Forgetting was better than facing the truth that it was my fault she died. I was supposed to be the one watching her. Instead, I left to get some pussy.” Taking in a steadying breath, I can tell he’s mentally preparing himself. “It was just me and my cousin Hunter and Robin. I don’t remember why we were the ones tasked with babysitting, but we were. Probably the first mistake. Hunter and I were troublemakers, but mom knew I loved Robin and would always say yes to watching her for them. While we were watching some cartoon with her, a friend I had gone to school with texted me about a party and that this one particular girl I’d been trying to get with for weeks would be there and was asking about me. I convinced Hunter to watch Robin alone, and I would be back in two hours tops. That everything would be fine. Everything was not fucking fine. An hour later, I got a frantic call from Hunter, sirens wailing in the background people yelling. He was a fucking mess. All I heard was Robin was shot. My heart shattered. I broke every traffic law driving back home. The entire time telling myself she would be okay. She would be fine with a scar we would make stories about. I would tell her she fought off wild bears and saved me. Everything would be ok. When I got home, I found Hunter, mute sitting on the front lawn, rocking and crying. He wouldn’t say anything to anybody. Not even the cops.”

My quiet tears are impossible to hold in. It must have been so traumatic to be a teen boy thinking life was dandy to get a call like that. I know all too well what it is to lose a loved one. Only I had time to say goodbye and prepare myself, and it still tore open my chest and ripped out my heart when that little green line went flat. Learning of a death so sudden to someone so young must have been devastating.

Lifting my head, I rest my chin on his chest and cup his scruffy cheek in my hand. Caressing the soft skin of his cheekbone. Those golden hazel eyes finding mine and staying there as he continues.

“She was so young and innocent and sweet. She had big round green eyes like Beau and so much thick dark brown hair we never knew what to do with it. Falcon was always braiding it and putting it up in pigtails. She had it in two long braids that night with pink little dinosaur charms on the ends. She loved dinosaurs. I bet she would have grown up to do something that involved them. Land Before Time was her favorite. She would have been fifteen by now. Probably dating, and me and Griff would be scaring the boys shitless whenever they would look at her like we looked at girls at that age.”

His chuckle is low and forced and reminiscent of good times past and missed.

“You guys didn’t exactly have it easy growing up, did you?”

“No. But Mom and Pop made the best of it. We were loved and happy. Just a little unorthodox.”

“Did you ever find out who shot her?” He failed to mention if anyone was ever caught or how exactly she was shot.

“Since Hunter wasn’t talking after that night, all we had to go on was the evidence in the house and his few descriptions of the men and their car. He was beaten to shit, must have put up a hell of a fight. We don’t know why he wasn’t shot. There were bullet holes everywhere. From what we could tell, it looked like a drive-by, but it also appeared that they had come into the house. Maybe looking for something? Someone? We don’t know. Hunter never told anyone the whole story. Mom and Pop may know, but they never told us much about business details back then. Anyways, Pop said they found the guys and dealt with them, and that was that. No cops ever came around investigating or anything. That’s when I first learned how much reach and control the Syndicatereallyhad in this city.”

“Your poor mom, she must have been so crushed.” He nods. His normally bright golden eyes are dull and sad. I didn’t want to make him sad.

“She was. She’s a tough bird, though. We all worked our way through it in our own time, except Hunter. Life would have been so different if I’d just stayed home. Robin might still be alive, and Hunter wouldn’t still be blaming himself for it. You know he didn’t speak for a year after the accident?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no one could ever get him to say a word. Once I caught him out in the woods behind his parents’ house. I was being a total creeper and watching him from the bushes. All he did was scream into the trees. Arrow says he heard him do it a few times. It was the only reason they knew he still could speak.”

“Jesus. Poor Hunter.” He only nods and says nothing more. I can feel the weight lifting from his chest as the seconds tick by. Knowing this family, he probably never went to therapy for the trauma, and talking about it helps, I would know. Then he speaks again just when I thought he might be falling asleep.

“I’m not good or perfect, but if you’ll have me, I’m yours.” Now his eyes are brightening as he watches me, waiting for me to say something—anything. I want to say everything. All the tingly butterflies he gives me, all the times I catch myself smiling thinking of him, and the way his touch soothes every uneasy ache and all the chatter in my mind. How much I truly love him no matter his past or future.

“Guess it’s a good thing I don’t love you because you’re a good guy. I love you because you’re unapologetically you. Crass, impulsive, aggressive, raw edges and all.” Golden eyes, bright and focused, now stare back at me. Hanging on my every syllable. The darkness from reminiscing about his dead sister is gone.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Nix.” In half a second, he’s rolling me under him and sealing his mouth to mine.

Our mouths have been stuck together for the better part of an hour. With how demanding and desperate his touch is, it feels like I haven’t been kissed in years. Wanting to wash away the sadness and guilt from both our pasts and reinforce this newfound solidity we’ve created together.

Fingers tangle in my already tangled hair pulling me even deeper into his lips. It’s unforgiving and filled with promises to always love me. To always be by my side and make me feel exactly how I do now. Admired, happy, loved, protected, safe. Nix tells me all the things he doesn’t have the words to describe with his mouth, touch, and love. He sure as hell is getting pretty fucking good at kissing to convey his emotions. It might just be our own language.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead on mine and closes his eyes, his fingers still running through my hair.

“I told you, you loved me.” His smile is infectious, and when he lays down dragging me to his chest once again, two broken and misshapen chunks, we fit together perfectly.

Chapter 23

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