To me, children were the embodiment of everything I tried to preserve: innocence, fragility, trust, and unconditional acceptance.

I deserved none of it, therefore I wasn’t fit to be around them.

The little girl inched forward again, encroaching on my space. I didn’t know how most children should behave, but she was forward—so fucking brave and inquisitive. Shouldn’t she be timid and meek? Too frightened to talk to a scarred stranger?

“You look scared. What happened? You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone.” She drew a cross over her heart. “I promise. I have nightmares sometimes. Do you?”

Everything about her intoxicated me until I couldn’t move an inch. She came forward another step. “You’re not like the other adults. You look like one, but I don’t think adults get scared. You shouldn’t be scared. My mummy taught me to not be afraid of anything.”

Her tiny fingers flew to her lips. “Oops. She said I wasn’t allowed to talk to strangers. Um, you won’t tell on me? She gets real mad when I talk to people. I don’t know why. I know when they’re bad, and you’re not bad. Mummy also gets mad when I cough which is so silly.” Her eyes met mine. “Do you have a mummy who tells you off for making friends with strangers?”

She moved until she stood directly in front of me. My body shuddered and vibrated. Memories of Vasily and my past kept battering me all the while this perfect angel chattered on—seeing deep into my black-ridden soul further than she had any right to.

“Whoa. What happened to your cheek?” Her little hand pointed upward, eyes squinting in the sun behind me. “It looks like a bad man hurt you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Did the bad man hurt you? I hope you made him pay. Those sorts of people shouldn’t be allowed to go around making other people ugly.”

Every word lacerated me until I felt like a large tree being hacked at with an axe. Every syllable and consonant chipped away at my already crumbling foundation, and my roots began to snap.

My left leg gave out, slamming hard against pebbles. My right leg joined until I kneeled before the one thing in my world I couldn’t fight.

I toppled to the ground before her, undone by her pristine innocence.

Every organ howled against conditioning, every bone bellowed in agony—my refusal to inflict anymore pain brought mind-numbing orders, amplifying and amplifying, enraged by my disobedience.

I no longer needed fists to find redemption. I found punishment just by staring into the eyes of someone so pure.

“Do you understand English?” the girl asked, moving to stand right in front of me. Her eye level was slightly higher than mine, making me feel as though I should bow to her, obey her, worship her.

I didn’t know what compelled me to reply, but I couldn’t stop. “Yes. I understand English.”

She smiled, clapping her dainty hands. “Great. I thought you did seeing as you told me not to touch you. What language were you talking just now?”

“Russian.”

“And your cheek. Did a bad man do that?”

“Yes.”

Her smile increased and a flash of anger that shouldn’t be seen on a little girl’s face crossed her features. “Did you kill him? I would’ve killed him.”

Who was this child? This perfect, brilliant, brave, little child.

I hung my head. “No. He’s still alive.”

She tutted. “Well, I would kill him.” Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she announced, “I like you.” Her face scrunched up as if I’d passed her test of likeability and stuck her hand out. “I’m Clara. What’s your name?”

A lazy, warm wind drifted across the driveway, rustling the trees ringing the perimeter. I gawked at the little girl dressed in a purple sweater and black leggings. Her hair hung loose, strands kicking in the breeze. A single purple ribbon twirled around her jaw.

My vision blurred around the edges.

This girl was everything I needed. Everything I was running from and to, and I didn’t even know it.

Her sweet fearlessness clutched my heart and in a matter of moments, she’d monopolized my every thought.

My gravity shifted.

I fell madly fucking in love.

I knew I shouldn’t do it.

I knew I should run and never look back.

But I didn’t.

Holding out my hand, I moaned when her little fingers squeezed around mine. Tears sprang to my eyes in overwhelming gratitude. Gratitude for being able to retain my self-control and gratitude for this perfect creature.

Her touch shattered me.

Her touch awoke me.

Her touch destroyed me.

“Hello, Clara.” I looked up into her liquid eyes. “I’m Roan.”

Chapter 13

I’d always known life had its favourites. Like a parent sometimes has a favourite child, life lavished attention and gifts galore on the ones it favoured. The ones it didn’t care for were forgotten. Allowed to survive, but given no special treatment.

I was one of the ones allowed to survive—to carve my own journey with no help.

But Fox, he was someone else entirely.

He was the child that every parent hated. The one no one understood. The one everyone pretended didn’t exist.

Not because he was evil or awkward or cruel—but because he was damaged and needed too much repairing to be feasible.

Ignorance and hatred pushed that child into the dark and their only chance was to turn inward, suffer silently.

I wanted to hate him.

I wanted to despise him.

He hurt me.

He used me.

Again and again.

But ultimately, I understood him.

I forgave him.

But I would never be able to save him.

Three life changing events came in quick succession.

The first happened when Clue charged through the doors of Obsidian’s fighting floor and almost knocked me on my ass. I’d been on my way out—about to leave Fox’s world forever—when she burst in out of nowhere.

I whirled backward, only to be caught by Corkscrew as he appeared right behind her.

One look from her tear-swimming eyes—I knew.

Something had happened to Clara.

“Is she okay? Tell me!” Panic lashed in my blood, flaying me alive. “Tell me, Clue! Now!” Nightmarish scenarios crushed my brain.

Clara dead.

Clara in a coma.

Clara gone forever.

My eyes grew wider; heart pounded harder. “She’s de—dead?”

Corkscrew’s fingers dug into my elbow, keeping me steady as Clue captured my cheeks and shook her head. Her almond eyes were red from crying, but she seemed calm. “No! She’s fine.”

She’s fine. Thank fucking God.

Panic gave way to undiluted anger.

“You gave me a fucking panic attack to come and tell me she’s fine?” I shrugged Corkscrew off, clutching my rapidly thudding heart. “I don’t understand.”

Clue shot a look at her backup support. Ben was the one who swallowed and said, “She collapsed at school.” His voice was soft and smooth, keeping me calm even as my body felt as if it exploded with shrapnel. “She suffered a seizure for three minutes. The school called an ambulance who took her to the ER.”

My brain swam. My worst nightmares were coming true. Too soon. It’s too soon!

Her coughing fit the other night and now this? Her symptoms had increased rapidly.

I’d have to ask Fox for the money now. I’d have to come up with a story that warranted him parting with another one hundred thousand dollars.

Clue stroked my shoulders, her warmth and support doing wonders for my scattered thoughts. “She’s alright. The doctors don’t know what caused it—”

I snarled. “Of course they know what caused it. Fucking idiots for not catching it sooner.” I clutched my chest as a huge ball of agony lodged in my heart. “They didn’t catch it, Clue. Because of their mistake, they sentenced my daughter to death.”

I’d always held such tight rein on my grief, but in that second I wanted to explode. I wanted to tear through the globe like an angry typhoon and wreck as much destruction as possible.

I wanted to destroy the doctors who ruined my life and my baby’s.

I didn’t want to put up with anything anymore. Fox had hurt me. Life had slapped me in the face. My past had almost ruined me. I just wanted out.

I’m not strong enough!

A massive sob bubbled in my chest and I bent over, sucking in gulping breaths.

If you start crying now, you’ll never stop.

“It’s okay, Zelly. It’s going to be okay.” Clue stroked my back, murmuring, “It’s a bitch of a situation, but she’s alright. Honestly to look at her you’d think she faked it just to get out of school. You don’t have to worry.”

I threw my hands up. “I don’t have to worry?” Tears shot up my spine in a tingling wake. “How can you say that? Every night I lie in bed, counting her breaths, making sure she’s still with me. One day, there will be no more breaths, Clue! Then what? What the hell do I do with my life?”

The regret and hatred for myself crashed like a tidal wave. Where had I been while Clue picked up my daughter from the ER? Instead of soothing my child, I was being fucked by a man who I had no hope of saving.

Your priorities are all screwed up.

I hate myself.

I’ll never forgive myself.

Everything that happened with Fox seemed trivial. So what if he hurt me? So what if I had some saviour complex? So what if it was my fault he’d snapped?

I’d pushed him too far, and I could only blame myself for the consequences. He hadn’t meant to hurt me—beneath the scariness, he was just a man looking for a way out—same as me.

His issues were vampiric, sucking my soul and energy dry until I was empty and shrivelled and on the very ledge of my wit’s end.

I had nothing left to give, but I had to keep going. I didn’t have the luxury of forgetting or indulging in tears.

Clara was the one who needed me.

She was all that mattered.

A whimper escaped, and Corkscrew gathered me into his large midnight arms. His body heat helped burn some of my unhelpful thoughts, granting me a moment of lucidity.

He and Clue barely knew each other, but he’d become a huge part of both our lives. Every night I’d return home, and he would be there. A fabulous cook, considerate houseguest, and completely besotted with Clue.

His deep voice vibrated in his chest. “It’s okay. We’re here for you if and when that happens. For now…Clue. Tell her.”

I went from slouched to stressed again in a second. “Tell me what?”

Clue took a step back. “After the ER, we headed home, but Clara threw a huge tantrum and made us come to you. She refuses to go home without you. I’d never seen her so upset or stubborn. She was a little spitfire.”

My ears rang, clanging with loud, terrifying bells. Please don’t say it—

Ben cleared his throat. “I know it’s not the best idea to bring a kid to an illegal fight club, but…well, she’s here.”

“What?” I screeched, attracting the attention of two burly men warming up in the boxing ring.

They brought my dying daughter to a monster’s house!

“She’s in the car waiting for you. Corkscrew came with me to get into the club. I figured we could all go home together.” Clue stroked my arm, trying to calm me. “It’s okay, Zelly. We’ll have a quiet night—just the three of us—like old times.”

I didn’t listen to a word she said. “You left my daughter in the car in front of an illegal club. How stupid can you be?”

My body was consumed with the thought of Clara being so close to the devil inside Fox. Two parts of my life I wanted to keep separate. Two parts that should never ever mix.

“It was the only way. We couldn’t exactly bring her in here,” Clue said.




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