Page 63 of Burned By Sin
Standing to his full height, I take in Clayton’s suit over the rim of my glass. He’s wearing a classic black tux, most likely rented if the too-tight fit is anything to go by. His shirt is buttoned up to the neck, a striped tie disappearing beneath the waistcoat. What a nerd. I slide the extra glass toward him as he approaches, his obsidian eyes glancing at the rose laying on the kitchen island.
“May the best man win,” I refill my glass before lifting it. On a grunt, Clayton clinks his with mine and we down our whiskey in one. Standing on opposite sides of the island, I size up my rival. Clayton may hate me, but despite everything, the feeling isn’t mutual.
We’ve both had to face certain trials in life, but I’ve never lost someone I’ve loved. Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone at all. Yet after experiencing both, he’s found the strength to open up his heart to the possibilities once again. I’ve seen the way Clayton treats Harper, how he worships her and knows exactly what she needs and when. He’s well and truly fallen for her, as have I.
Sighing, I swig from the bottle this time, trying to drown my thoughts. There’s no use comparing us now. The time for overthinking is over. I’ve told myself whatever Harper decides, I’ll respect. It’s a pretty lie, and it’s all that’s keeping me from burying Clayton beneath the porch and pretending he went out for milk and never came back.
“You could have stopped all of this, you know,” Clayton sniffs, lowering onto a stool. “You could have argued harder or done something to secure her place here. Instead, you’ve left her to suffer.” Refilling both glasses, much to his disgust, I paint a smirk on my face.
“Why would I change a competition I’m due to win?” It’s a bluff, but it’s plausible. Sitting beside him, I cradle my glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. I could have stood up to my father. Or at least, I wish I could have. Something about being in that man’s presence sends me back to a place in my mind I pretend doesn’t exist. Harper isn’t scared of him, but Harper hasn’t been left bleeding on his office floor.
“What does it feel like?” I ask to distract my mind from the image, finding my knuckles have turned white around the glass. Clayton raiseshis eyebrow. “Loving something. Being loved by someone. What does it feel like?”
Clayton doesn’t move, his ever-watchful eyes staring at me as if looking for the punchline. I have no ulterior motive this time. I’m stripped back and exposed, emotions I don’t understand stirring within. Sensing that I’m genuinely curious, he leans his forearms on the marbled surface.
“I don’t know much about your upbringing, but I’ve noticed you don’t have any photos around and you’ve never mentioned your mother. If that’s the kind of love you’re asking about, it just feels warm. Like you’re constantly wrapped in an embrace and there’s always someone to hold you when life seems too hard to bear alone.” Clayton focuses on swirling his glass in his large hand, watching the amber liquid spin in circles.
“Is there another kind?” I ask, my voice smaller than I’d like. Clayton releases a breathy laugh.
“Oh yeah, there is. But I think you already know about that one.” I frown at this, putting down my glass. My leg starts to bounce, my mind struggling to decipher the meaning behind his words. The intentions of my actions are to make Harper happy, and I can’t deny that I care for her, but anything beyond that is a pipedream. It’s territory I don’t know how to trek.
“Whatever you think you’ve seen, you’re wrong. I’m incapable of emotions beyond anger and hate,” I reply, my jaw clenching. Clayton shrugs and stands, moving to place the glass in the basin. I twist my head to watch him lean against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.
“You’re lying to yourself, but for once I believe your intentions are honorable. You know you’re beneath her and that down the line, you’ll end up hurting her. But I’ve also seen that she’s good for you and makes you want to be a better person. A bigger man might stand aside and let you have her. But I can’t.” I nod slowly at his words, knowing that feeling all too well.
Maybe Clayton and I aren’t so different after all, and maybe Harper likes the notion of fixing our broken souls. However, some things are beyond repair, and the patches over our scars will only hold for so long. No matter who she chooses tonight, she’ll end up miserable. Neither of us will be enough, yet we can’t walk away either.
A door bangs upstairs, the sound hitting me like a gunshot. Jolting me out of my seat, my feet move before my mind has caught up. At least a part of my brain is working and the rose is in my hand as Clay and I stop at the bottom of the stairs. Shoulder to shoulder, the light facing-off with the dark. My palms itch with the need to fidget, so I opt for pushing my free hand into my pocket. Harper appears at the top of the staircase a moment later, the air freezing in my lungs.
Holy…everything.The silver dress shimmers with each breath she takes, the fabric hugging her curves like it’s worshipping her. It pools around her heels, liquid light trailing behind her. The neckline plunges dangerously low, only barely contained by the faintest layer of mesh. The delicate straps roll over her shoulders, tracing the lines of her skin before vanishing into what I know must be an open back. She’s a work of art. A slice of sin. She’s all I want but don’t deserve.
Harper’s hair is pulled back from her face and cascading down her back in a river of soft curls. Her receivers are on full display, as they should be. She’s a goddess of strength, overcoming challenges with such ease, many wouldn’t even know she faced them. I’m nowhere near worthy of her attention or her affection, yet I want them both.
Smoothing a hand over my styled hair, I ignore my heartbeat pounding in my ears with each step Harper takes. Each stair is one closer to me. Each soft click of her heel feels like a countdown to my own destruction. I’ve always been spoiled with things that don’t matter. Money, cars, connections. But now the only thing I care about in this godforsaken world is walking toward me, shimmering like a dream I don’t deserve. I want to grab her with both hands, pull her against me, and never let her go. To claim her. To prove that she’s mine and I’m hers, no matter who’s watching.
Her green eyes come level with mine, and it’s like staring into the truth I’ve been trying to outrun. There’s sadness in them. Not just sadness, but resignation. She looks between me and Clayton, and I feel my throat closing. I force myself to stay still, to not reach for her, to not say a damn word.
My tongue is a live wire in my mouth, filled with arguments, with pleas, with promises I know she’s already stopped believing in. There’s nothing else to say. Harper’s made her decision. I can see it in the hard line of her jaw, the way her shoulders square against the weight of it.
A wave of nausea grips me, twisting deep in my gut. I’ve been in fights that left me bloodied, dragged across the ground, but nothing has ever felt like this. Nothing has ever hurt like this. Harper makes me want to rewrite every mistake, every cruel thing I’ve ever done. She makes me want to beg her to save me. But now, watching her stand there so calm and so sure, I might be about to lose her and if I do, there won’t be anything left of me to save.
Addy appears at the top of the stairs, beautiful in her own right as much as I hate to think it, but my brain barely even registers her. My gaze zeroes in on the two black duffel bags in her hands.
“What’s going on?” Clayton asks in a gruff bark. It breaks through my fog, registering what I have failed to understand. Harper keeps her head held high and crosses her hands in front of her, as if she’s practiced what she’s about to say a thousand times.
“I’ve been asked to make a decision, and I have.” She looks at Clay first, then at me, then at some safe, neutral point between us. I brace myself. “Each of you speaks to a different side to me, but together you both make me whole. I’m just as strong as I am weak, brave as I am scared. I need my protector and my challenger.” Harper smiles weakly to us both in turn before stepping on the last step to take each of our hands in hers. Her fingers are shaking, but they clench tightly as if she’s clinging on in sheer desperation.
“This is what I want,” Harper looks from me to Clayton and back again, tears shining in her eyes. “I can’t lie to myself or ignore the pull Ifeel towards each of you for different reasons. When one of you isn’t here, it’s like a piece of my soul is missing. I understand it’s unusual and incredibly selfish, so I’ve decided that if one of you isn’t on board, then I’ll walk away from you both.”
“Harper,” I breathe, unfamiliar with the sound of my own voice. She shakes her head, needing to finish what she’s started.
“I’ve had a virtual meeting with Dean Lawrence about being switched onto a home learning program if it comes to it. That should appease the new policy your father has put in place. But it wasn’t just about the expulsion. These threats,” Harper sighs with the weight of the world on her shoulders, “I can’t face the threats without you guys by my side, but I can’t have one and see the other everyday either. It’s unconventional, but when all the bullshit is set aside, it works. We work.”
My head is shaking, my mind tripping over itself. Harper doesn’t want to go back to her aunts, she wants to stay here. Where the blood rushes through my veins, threatening to burn me alive, Clayton is the image of stoic serenity. I can’t gauge what he’s thinking, but it doesn’t matter.
“So, that’s my decision. It’s time for you to make yours.” Refusing to let the tears fall, Harper withdraws her hands and takes a step back. Addy places Harper’s bags to the side of the front door, sending a visceral pain shooting through my chest.No. I’m just starting to understand the strength of my feelings for Harper. I can’t let her go, no matter the costs.
“I’m all in.” I announce, closing the space between us to take her face in my hands. My heart forgets how to beat, as if my future happiness is hinged on this moment. “I’ve been a slave to you since day one. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll do it. I need you in my life, Babygirl. You’re it for me.”
