Page 99 of Sterling Clay

[Clay]

Stepping into the hallway, we both stall after I close the door, leaving it open enough to paint a thin sliver of light across the floor of Dutton’s room.

Tonight, there will be no man peeping through the window. Dutton let it be revealed the man in Walmart was the man who took him and Mavis, and I’m certain he was the same man outside my house.

And Wesley is behind bars on a number of criminal charges.

However, I don’t want to think about either man. My woman and her son are safely back inside my home.

“What do you need from me?” I ask her as we remain in the hallway. I gingerly reach for the skin beneath her eyes. The black and blue marks mixing with exhaustion. “I want to be with you. Hold you tight against my body and be one with you, but I understand if you need space. Time and patience before we touch like that again.”

Mavis stares at me.

“You need control, butterfly.” Her life has been chaos in the past twenty-four hours. Past year. Past years. But not the last few months, because she’s been with me, and I want her to see that we are as stable as it can get. “You tell me what you want from me right now.”

Mavis steps up to me, close enough to be hugged but not reaching out for me. Swallowing hard, she lowers her gaze. Her eyes brim with tears. “I need you to take care of me, Clay.”

Reaching up for her hair, I brush it over her ear.

“Always, baby. But tonight, be specific.” Not more than a second passes when an idea strikes me. “Take a bath with me?”

Her head pops up and she nods once, blinking those normally lustrous eyes which are presently sad and dark. I take her hand and lead her to my guest bathroom, which has a soaker tub. The basin is deep and large enough for two, so I set the water to a comfortable temperature and while the tub fills, I strip her of her clothes before removing mine. The way she wraps her arms around her middle, she comes off as shy, but I don’t want her ever hiding from me.

“Where does it hurt?” I question, knowing not all her bruises are visible.

“My shoulders and neck are stiff,” she admits, reminding us both that she endured an accident first.

Taking her hand, I step into the tub first, then help her over the edge. “Feel good?”

She nods, and I lower us both, settling her between my bent, spread legs. In this position, I pepper her upper back and shoulders with kisses, tenderly covering all her aches.

Then, I press her forward to wash her hair, taking my time to rinse the long locks. I sponge her back with a washcloth and stroke down her arms before settling her against my chest.

I want her to relax, and we sit in silence for a while, soaking up the warmth of the water and the comfort of our closeness.

“If he’d hurt you . . .” I swallow the thickness in my throat. “I don’t know what I’d have done.”

Mavis runs her hands over my arms around her middle.

“I might never be free,” she finally whispers. “I might have to always look over my shoulder. Always worry double time about Dutton’s safety or mine. I don’t want to bring danger to your door.”

“Hey,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You didn’t bring danger here. And I’ll always have your back, butterfly. I’m always going to be equally concerned about you and Dutton. Your safety. Your happiness.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever been happier than being here with you.”

“Then why do you sound so sad about it?” I chuckle, cupping her chin and turning her head so she’ll look at me.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Mavis.” My tone strengthens.

“You heard my dad. I’m different than them.”

I did hear him and he’s an ass for saying such a thing to his daughter. I still didn’t know if it was meant as an insult. He could have intended it as a compliment, meaning she’s smarter, stronger, better in some way. But the comment clearly hurt her. “You’re perfect.”

Her gaze lowers. “When I was younger, I just wanted a simple life. A nice, quiet house. A stable income. A job that made me feel good about myself.”

“You have all that,” I remind her.