Destroyed(81)

I wouldn’t be able to help Fox.

But my daughter could.

My tiny, dying daughter who I would miss for the rest of my life.

My eyes flew open, ready to answer his silent beg. He wanted permission to be around Clara. I could manage for a few hours, and then I would whisk her away and lock her behind closed doors. There was only so much tempting danger I could handle.

You hurt her, I’ll kill you.

I’ll do it with no hesitation.

But okay…

His large shoulders rolled inward and a faint smile kissed his lips. “Klyanus' moyey zhizni ya ne budu yey bol'.”

Clue shifted beside me, crossing her svelte arms. “Um, care to repeat that in English?”

Fox shook his head, eyes flaring wide. “Sorry. I didn’t know I slipped. I said, I swear on my life I will not hurt her.” His answer was for Clue, but he never looked away from me. His eyes resonated with truth. I honestly believed he would kill himself before he let whatever madness inside him hurt Clara.

A small smidgen of worry evaporated; I nodded.

Fox closed his eyes briefly, glowing with thankfulness.

Ben came forward, eyebrows drawing together. “Hang on, what do you mean you won’t hurt her?” His tone was sharp. “Of course, you won’t. Who the hell says something like that?”

Tension gathered in our small group, causing my skin to prickle. “It’s okay, Corkscrew. I know what he meant.” Ben looked at me with concern on his face. I nodded. “It’s okay. Truly.”

Clara bounced in her dusty black shoes. “I know what he means. I do. I do.”

My heart stopped, waiting for her declaration. Fox seemed just as anxious as he repositioned his knees uncomfortably.

“He means he doesn’t like hugs or being touched. I think the bad man made him hate hugs because bad men don’t like love. They’re evil and cold, and I don’t like them.” Her large eyes met Fox’s. “I’m right, aren’t I? You really do want my mummy to hug you even though she was mean and yelled at you, but you don’t know how. It’s easy, you know. All you have to do is wrap your arms around her.”

An eternity passed before Fox nodded infinitesimally. “You’re right, little one.”

The sweet surrender in his voice set fire to my blood. I just granted him the right to spend a few hours with Clara, not an eternity. I couldn't have him falling in love with her. She wasn’t his to keep.

I hurled upright onto my feet. “Don’t, Fox.”

His eyes met mine, frowning. “Don’t what?”

I glared harder, hoping he’d get my silent message. Don’t you dare fall for her. She isn’t yours to fall for.

He stood too and took a step back. He didn’t say a word.

Clara spun to face me, hands on her hips, looking far too opinionated for her young age. “If he gets to be called after an animal I want to, too. Call me Pony…no wait, call me Horse.” Her nose wrinkled. “They’re not as pretty as a Fox.” She spun to face him. “Why does my mummy call you that?”

Fox glanced at me before very cleverly changing the subject. “Why do you want to be called Horse or Pony? I think Clara is a very pretty name.”

Clara giggled, moving back toward him as if he was the largest sunflower and she was a hungry bumblebee. “It’s because I love horses. My favourite show in the whole entire world is Flick the pony, and I want to grow up and own lots and lots of horses and be a jockey.” Her bright, hopeful voice made me want to burst into tears.

She had an obsession with horses—it would be a dream come true to be able to afford her own equine or even riding lessons. In a different world. A different life maybe. A different existence where she didn’t have a death sentence hanging over her head.

Fox smiled. “I like horses, too. All animals. I make them if you’d like to see?”

A cloud rolled over the sun, casting us all in shadow. My body tensed, sensing an omen, a premonition of doom. I didn’t want Clara anywhere near his house. I would never get her out of there with all the fascinating artwork and statues. I’d agreed to let Fox talk to her, but I didn’t agree to more time than a brief acquaintance.

Clue moved closer, whispering in my ear. “I’ve never seen a man so besotted with a kid before. No wonder you like working for him. Beneath the scary appearance, he’s a massive softy.”

I snorted. Fox. A softy? Was I the only one who saw past the livid scar, the surliness, and into his soul? His dark and damaged soul?

No, I’m not the only one.

Clara did, too, but instead of being afraid of him, she suffered the same malady I did. She wanted to fix him. She stupidly thought a bit of glue and paperclips would fix him. And it would break her heart when she realized it wasn’t possible. But how could I prevent her from trying?

“Do you have horses and ponies…and sheep? Oh, I like sheep.” Clara once again moved far too close to Fox.

He pre-empted her touching him and took a step back. “I have many animals, but no sheep.”

Clara chewed on her cheek in thought, looking as if that was a deal breaker. Her eyes lit up. “Can you make a sheep?”

Fox smiled softly. “I could make a sheep if you wanted one.”

She nodded. “Good. Yes, I want one.”

Fox moved away a little more, stress lines and shadows darkening his face. He’d run the gauntlet, and he looked as if his reserves were dwindling. How much longer could he hold onto his self-control?