Destroyed(130)

He moved forward a step, crowding me. “It still doesn’t explain what it’s doing in your f*cking pocket.”

I shouted right in his face. “Ever since I took it, I’ve been terrified of it. I didn’t know what to do.” The relief that came with no longer being responsible for such a dangerous thing quietened my anger. “I kept it taped to the underside of my bed to prevent anyone finding it by mistake. It haunted me, and I don’t want the responsibility anymore. I want you to destroy it.”

Without saying a word, Roan grabbed my hand and stalked toward the door leading into the house. He jangled a set of keys, trying to find the right one, never letting go of my hand. The moment he unlocked the door, he dragged me down the corridor and to a bathroom off a room that looked like a shadowed cinema.

The immaculate ensuite looked like a show home ready for viewing. Fluffy turquoise towels with sparkling silver tiles were so different to the black facilities at Obsidian.

“Can’t believe you’ve been walking around with this in your pocket.” Flipping open the lid of the toilet, he threw the tissue and pill into the basin. Flushing it, he snapped, “There. Gone. Now Fox is really dead, and it’s about f*cking time you met Roan.”

I squealed as he scooped me off my feet and carted me up the wide white stairs to the second floor. I couldn’t see much in the whirlwind of speed, but everywhere I looked was white. Not one inch of black.

Kicking a door open, he prowled inside and gave me exactly one second to glance around the room.

White king-size bed covered in silky pillows that looked like pristine clouds. The huge expanse of glass welcomed the sand dunes and sea inside. The carpet was white, the bedside tables and small sitting area white.

Everywhere I looked white, white, white.

And then all I saw was black as Roan threw me on the bed and crushed me against the softness of duck down. I moaned as his body heat smothered me and for one joyous moment I let go of my grief and thought only of him. This man who’d turned my world upside down, back to front, inside out.

His hands went to the little pearl buttons of my dress, fumbling with the dainty buttonholes. His breathing accelerated, and he growled in frustration. His touch brought me crawling out of the fog of sorrow and latching onto life.

I grabbed the back of his head, whispering in his ear. “Tear it off. I never want to wear it again.”

“Thank God,” he groaned. His hands bunched the material and tore. The dress went from encasing my body to being ripped into pieces, laying scattered like death on all the perfect whiteness. His eyes dropped to my black underwear. “You’re f*cking gorgeous.”

He bent over me, biting the swell of my breast with gentle teeth. “I’m going to love you every day. I’ll never get enough of these.” He cupped my breasts, brushing my pebbled nipples with his thumbs. “I’ll never get enough of this.” His right hand trailed down my stomach to cup between my legs.

I moaned as the possessive heat of his palm sent mini explosions in my blood.

My body welcomed the energy Roan conjured, but my mind skittered away. It was wrong to focus on myself. So wrong to thrill in life when Clara no longer had any.

I can’t do this.

I froze.

Roan’s hand dropped from me and he exhaled heavily. “Fuck. I’m an *.”

“No, you’re not.” I shook my head, cursing the trickle of tears seeping from my eyes. Would I ever be able to stomach the thought that Clara was no longer in my world?

Roan scooted backward, bringing me with him. I stood on my black dress and something sharp poked the bottom of my foot.

Bending to rub my sole, I found the My Little Pony badge from the funeral. I picked it up; the girlish horse design swirled with my tears.

My insides twisted until I no longer knew how to live. My heart had to relearn how to beat. My mind had to come to terms with loss. My body had to prepare itself to bring more life into the world.

There was too much. Too much sensation. Life was moving too fast, putting distance between me and Clara every second.

I looked up at Roan, begging him to fix it.

“Shit, Zel.” He dragged me against him and held me tight. His warmth helped comfort but at the same time reminded me Clara was no longer warm. I’d stolen her heat as she grew cold in my arms in his office.

My heart squeezed until I couldn’t breathe.

How can I move on when the guilt will kill me?

I didn’t know how long we stood there. But Roan never stopped stroking my hair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be so strong. Let go. I’m here.” His voice soothed me, rough and masculine. He didn’t pull away, despite the damp patch growing beneath his shirt from the stress of holding me.

Finally, when my silent shudders had stopped, he disappeared and came back with a white bathrobe from the bathroom. Wrapping me tight, concealing my half-nakedness, he asked, “Can I show you something? It might make it a little easier.” His voice hitched. “Or it might make it f*cking worse. I don’t know. I second guessed myself the entire time I did it.”

Trepidation prickled my spine. “Show me what?”

Pulling away, he captured my hand and dragged me from the room. We travelled down a short corridor before he turned a doorknob and pushed me into a snapshot of my past. I felt as if I walked through a time machine.

Clara.