Traitor (15 page)

“Don’t,” I said, my voice sounding foreign in my own ears. “They’ve already been here.” He looked at me in confusion. “It’s not my blood,” I explained.

His eyes narrowed, and he kept touching me, unconvinced. “What the fuck is going on, Claudia?” He demanded.

“I…” I needed to say it, needed to get it out. If I held it in any longer, the agony that was ripping at my insides was going to destroy me. “I killed a man,” I admitted softly.

Sean’s eyes widened. “What?” He breathed.

“I did what you told me to do,” I said hollowly. “I chose myself.”

His arms were around me, pulling me up against his chest. He tenderly stroked my hair as my trembling resumed. An image flashed across my mind: those aqua eyes, so unique in such a tanned face, staring at nothing. My brain was coming back to life, and I dreaded the moment when reality would come crashing back down on me.

“What happened?” Sean asked, speaking softly as though not to spook me.

“I don’t… I can’t… Please. I don’t want to think…” My chest tightened, cutting off my words. I didn’t want to face it; I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think I ever would be.

Sean drew back from me, his eyes dark with worry. I glanced away, but my gaze fell on my bloodstained hand. A small, distressed sound escaped me, like the whimper of a pained animal. He quickly covered my hand with his, hiding it from view.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” he said gently. He moved my body so that my back was supported by the storage cabinets beneath my sink before he stood to turn on the shower. This so wasn’t the way I had imagined showering with him.

He returned to me, grasping me by the elbows and lifting me to my feet. My hips were propped back against the counter, preventing me from falling back onto my ass as Sean carefully undressed me. There was nothing sensual about it; no heat flared in my loins at the act. I just felt cold. I shrugged out of my shirt and stepped out of my shoes and slacks compliantly, my eyes watching him but not really seeing him. Once I was bare, Sean quickly stripped out of his own clothes. I focused on the hard planes of his perfect muscles, idly marveling at his beauty as my mind drifted through nothingness.

Taking my hands, he led me to the edge of the tub. “Careful,” he warned as I fought against leaden legs to step over the porcelain barrier. Somehow, I managed not to trip, and Sean soon joined me under the warm spray. As soon as it hit me, the water turned pink. I felt sick again as I watched the blood-tinged liquid spiral down the drain.

Sean’s chest was pressed into my back, his arm firmly around my stomach. His body was warm against me, but it wasn’t hot enough. I was so cold; it felt as though ice was crystalizing in my veins, the sharp shards of it slashing at my flesh from the inside. I reached out and cranked up the hot water, turning it higher and higher.

Sean’s fingers closed around mine, pulling my hand away from the knob. “You’ll scald yourself, Claudia,” he chided.

“I’m cold,” I muttered.

He said nothing, and I was grateful when he didn’t turn down the heat. Instead, he reached for my shampoo, and I closed my eyes as his fingers began massaging it into my hair. He stopped suddenly, his touch leaving me.

“Did you hit your head, Claudia?” He asked.

“No,” I said, puzzled. Then I opened my eyes and saw that the soapy water trailing down over my breasts was stained pink. I shuddered as I recalled running my bloody hands through my hair. “It’s not mine.”

His touch returned, and I relished the feeling of his fingers moving in a slow, circular rhythm against my scalp. I closed my eyes again, tuning out the world and focusing solely on the sensation of his hands upon me. When he had finished with my hair, I felt his soap-slicked palms running over my skin. If I had been washing myself, I would have been scrubbing furiously, clawing at my flesh until my own blood blotted out that of my attacker.

My mind flinched away from the thought of him, and I returned my attention to Sean’s touch. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he finally spoke.

“Okay, little one,” he said gently. “All better.”

He turned off the water and took me up in his arms, cradling my body against his. I kept my eyes shut tightly, enjoying the sensation of his strong arms wrapped around me protectively. I felt him carrying me out of the bathroom, and he draped a towel around me as he walked. When I felt something soft and familiar beneath me, I knew that he had set me down on my bed. The mattress shifted as he settled down beside me, his arm draped across my stomach. I was grateful for the continued contact.

“Open your eyes, Claudia,” he commanded softly.

“I don’t want to,” I whispered. I just wanted to remain in the darkness where nothing existed but the feel of Sean touching me, his scent enfolding me.

“Do as I say, Claudia,” he said more firmly.

I frowned, but I did as he bade me.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” he said.

My frown deepened. “I don’t want to,” I said again.

His brows drew together forbiddingly, but there was still a softness to his eyes that tugged at my heart. “I need to know what happened to you, Claudia. And you need to tell me. If you keep it bottled up inside, it will destroy you. Let me help you.”

It was so much like what Clayton had said to me. Had that really only been earlier this evening? It felt like a lifetime ago. My whole world had changed since then. I had been a doctor who wanted nothing more to preserve human life. But in the space of a second, I had become a killer.

“He was waiting for me when I came home,” I said, knowing that Sean would press me until I divulged everything. “He had a knife, but I had the gun. I used it.”

“Did he hurt you?” Sean asked.

I glanced down at the now-sodden bandage on my arm. It would need changing. “Just a small cut,” I said.

When my gaze returned to his, I found myself trapped in the green depths of his beautiful eyes. He was staring at me intently. “I know that must have been hard for you, Claudia. But I’m glad that you killed him. You did the right thing.”

“Did I?” I asked faintly.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“But I did!” I suddenly cried out as anguish gripped me hard. “And I chose me! I killed a man, Sean!” I saw his aqua eyes again, saw the look of shock in them just before the light went out of them. There had been so much blood…

“This is all my fault,” Sean said, his voice oddly muffled.

I looked up to find that he had buried his face in his hands. “If I had just stayed away, you wouldn’t be in this position. You wouldn’t have had to do that.” He dropped his hands and looked down at me, his expression agonized. “I’m going to leave you alone, Claudia. I promise I’ll be out of your life, and you’ll be safe again.”

“No!” He couldn’t leave me. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Especially not now, when I needed him most. “Don’t leave me,” I begged.

It was too much. The panic hit me hard, my chest constricting. I curled up into myself protectively, as though to ward off physical blows. The bone-deep cold returned, and my vision went red, crimson filming over my eyes like blood blinding me.

I was dimly aware of Sean shaking me, calling my name. But I couldn’t answer him, couldn’t seem to pull myself from the grip that the clawed monster within me had on my heart.

There was a sharp, stinging sensation on my upper arm. Almost at once, my seizing muscles began to ease, and breath returned to my oxygen-starved lungs. My vision cleared, and Sean’s face came swimming into view. And so did the syringe that he was holding in his hand.

“What?” I breathed.

He touched my face lightly, tracing the line of my jaw. “Don’t worry,” he told me. “It’s just a sedative.”

I blinked slowly, confused. “Where did you get that?” I asked, the words garbled. My tongue felt oddly heavy in my mouth.

“From a friend,” he said. “When you called, I thought that someone was threatening you. I knew that you wouldn’t want me to hurt him if I could avoid it. So I brought this.”

His voice seemed far away. My vision was going fuzzy at the edges, and my eyelids were growing heavy. I didn’t want to sleep; I was afraid of the nightmares that would haunt me when I closed my eyes. I was afraid of being alone in the darkness. I tried to reach out for Sean, but my hand barely twitched. My limbs wouldn’t seem to answer my demands to move. The world was turning darker, drowsiness covering me like a warm blanket.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he said, his voice strained. “I won’t leave you.”

With that knowledge, I stopped fighting and welcomed the black oblivion.

Chapter 11

My body began to stir to wakefulness, but I resisted it. I was warm and comfortable, content. But bright, insistent light was pressing against my closed eyelids. Too much light.

Shit.
I must have overslept. I was going to be late for work. My eyes snapped open, and I groaned when I looked at the clock.

10:30? Really? I never slept this late.

A hand closed around my shoulder, rolling me onto my back.

“Sean,” I gasped. “What are you still doing here? You should have been at work hours ago. And so should I. Why did you let me sleep so late?”

“You needed to rest,” he said simply. “I called your work to let them know that you wouldn’t be in today. I’m taking the day off too.”

“But you can’t do that!” I protested. “Your father will be furious.”

Sean’s expression tightened. “I don’t give a damn what my father thinks,” he said harshly. “I told you that I wouldn’t leave you. And I don’t intend to.”

“Don’t worry, little one. I won’t leave you.”

“You…” I said haltingly, struggling to recall something. “You drugged me.”

“I’m sorry. You were having a panic attack. You weren’t breathing. I didn’t know what else to do.” He raked his fingers through his hair. It was extremely untidy, as though he had been doing that a lot. Now that I really looked at him, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the fine red veins that crisscrossed the whites of them like intricate spider webs. It occurred to me that he probably hadn’t slept.

What was going on? I had been having a panic attack? Why did Sean look so… strained?

I cast my eyes around the room, searching for clues about what had happened the night before. Then my eyes fell on the pile of clothes on my bathroom floor. They were stained with large splotches of crimson. I felt the blood drain from my face, and all of my muscles turned rigid as the memories came flooding back.

“Oh, god,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. I had killed a man, extinguished his life in the blink of an eye. And there was nothing I could do to take it back. How could I have done that? How could I live with it? Who was I now?

I felt hot tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. It was the first time I had cried since it happened. Sean’s arms were around me instantly, hugging me tightly against him.

“Shhh, little one. You’re safe now. You’re okay.” He rocked me gently, and I felt him take a shaky breath. “Do you have any idea…?” His voice cracked. “Do you have any idea how scared I was when I found you? I thought… Fuck, Claudia, I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

“Something did happen to me,” I said tremulously. “What I’ve done has changed me, Sean. I’m not the same person anymore.” I looked up at him, my eyes wide, wild. “I’m a murderer.” I thought of my parents, how the long years of hatred towards their faceless killer had hardened my heart. The man I shot must have a family. Even mobsters had families. Did he have a wife, children? Had I deprived them of their father?

Sean gently wiped at the silent tears that wet my cheeks, but more flowed over his fingers in an unrelenting stream. “You did what you had to do,” he said firmly. Then his mouth hardened to a grim line. “Besides, if he had hurt you, I would have killed him myself, and he would be dead anyway.”

A moment of silence passed between us as his words sank in. They rang with furious, vindictive truth. “Have you ever killed anyone, Sean?” I asked quietly. I was afraid to hear his answer.

“No.”

A strange mixture of emotions swirled within me. First and foremost was relief. I had been right in what I had told Clayton: Sean wasn’t a killer. But there was also sadness, and maybe even a hint of jealousy. He couldn’t understand what I was going through, how my life was now irrevocably altered. I would carry the weight of the man’s stolen soul for the rest of my life. And for all of his talk about killing anyone who hurt me, Sean hadn’t brought any weapons with him to confront an attacker. He had been planning on drugging him.

Because of you,
an inner voice told me. Yes, Sean was trying to reign in his violent urges for me. He knew how much it upset me to see him get hurt, to see him hurting other people. But now he was the pure one and I was the one with blood on my hands. I looked down at them, half-expecting to find rust-red half-moons staining the tips of my fingernails. But there was nothing there.

I drew away from Sean, suddenly feeling unworthy of his touch. And more than a little resentful as a part of me acknowledged that none of this would have happened if I had never met him. That thought made me go cold. Did I really wish that?

No. I didn’t think so. After everything that had happened the night before, Sean was the only person I wanted to see. He was the only one who saw the real me, the only one who would understand. But now I realized that he didn’t understand, that he never could. He could hold me, he could comfort me, he could whisper reassuring words; but he would never really know the depth of my self-loathing at what I had done.

I needed some time away from him to try to sort myself out, to figure out who I was now.

But I couldn’t be alone. I had to go to the FBI for interrogation today. They would ask me questions for their official record. I was going to have to re-live the whole thing. And Sean wouldn’t be able to be there to hold my hand through it. I suddenly felt utterly, starkly alone, as though I stood naked atop an isolated mountain while bitter wind lashed at my skin until it was raw and red.