23. Clara

CHAPTER 23

CLARA

We’ll get through this. We can handle anything that comes our way

as long as we have each other. - Nick

Iwoke up in the dark to loud pounding at my front door. I’d slept longer than I had planned.

Nick wouldn’t bang on my door like that.

When I made it to the base of the stairs, the door flew open, thudding against the wall. Squinting into the dark of my foyer I tried to make out who was standing there. “Malcolm?”

I was disoriented from my nap and still exhausted from my perpetual lack of sleep. Belatedly, I ran my hand up the wall next to me to flick the light on. Taking my eyes off him would not end up good for me. His energy was off; it sent a chill up my spine.

“What did you tell her?” His voice cracked through the silence like a whip.

“Who?”

“Morgan broke off the engagement. She called me a couple hours ago and ended everything with me. What did you tell her?!” he repeated in a crazed shout.

“Malcolm, I haven’t said a word to her. I’ve been here sleeping. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I fumbled for the light switch again, plunging us into darkness once more as I debated backing up the stairs to find something to hit him with, or lock myself in my bedroom—something, anything to get away from him. He was not here to have a coffee and a chat; I knew that much.

“Get back here!” he snarled.

There was something going on; he was off. I had the feeling he’d follow me then I’d be trapped upstairs without my phone to call the police.

“We have to talk. You’re going to fix this for me or⁠—”

“Or what?” I shrieked as I flew down the rest of the stairs, tackling him and taking him down to the hardwood floor. “Help me!” I screamed through the open door. “Help!”

The thunk of his head against the doorjamb as he fell was sickening, but it didn’t stop him from struggling beneath me.

He took hold of my wrist, but I managed to twist out of his grip and dash into the living room.

He was disoriented but he stood up to follow me further into the house. Flipping my coffee table over to stall him, I made it to the fireplace to get to the poker, but he grabbed me from behind in a bear hug before I could reach it.

“Get off me!” I lurched back, shoving my full weight into him as I twisted and struggled in his grasp. “Get out!” I shrieked. “Let go of me, you asshole!”

“Take your fucking hands off her before I rip you apart.”

It was Nick. In two strides, he was there prying Malcolm’s arms apart so I could slip free.

“Mind your own goddamned business and get the hell out of here,” Malcolm grunted as he stumbled in my direction. Unbelievably, he tried to hit me, but it was weak since he had to break out of Nick’s grasp to do it.

Nick missed catching his arm, but I dodged his wild swing. Nick wrapped his arms around Malcolm and I used the opportunity to shift my weight and let loose an uppercut designed to smash Malcolm’s smug face in. I didn’t knock him out, but it stunned him enough that Nick was able to tighten his grip and walk him back toward the front door and out to the porch.

I met his eyes. “The cops are on the way,” he told me. “You’re okay. Baby, take a breath.”

I did as he said and inhaled a deep breath as I found the light switch by the door and flipped it on to light up my porch and foyer.

Malcolm struggled in Nick’s grasp. “You will not file a report. This dies here⁠—”

This asshole’s entitlement knew no bounds. “Fuck you, Malcolm. You broke my door and probably trampled through my flower beds. You bet your ass I’m filing a report!”

“Watch yourself, Miss Hill.” His voice was a snarling gasp. “Or I might have to give up our little secret.”

I whirled on him, waving my pointer finger at him for emphasis as my temper came back online. “I’m going to tell him everything, Malcolm. And I don’t care who else finds out what I had to do to put myself through college. Not everyone is born with a silver spoon in their mouth like you were. Some people have to work for what they have, you pathetic, whiny little bitch.”

He ground his teeth together and tried to glare me down.

I poked my finger into his chest. “I’m going to sue you until I own everything you have. I’ll tie you up in so many legal knots you’ll never be free. And I’ll do it all by myself, just for fun. Destroying you will be my new hobby. Fighting me in court will cost you everything, because you’re stupid, Malcolm. Your paralegals did all your real work—we both know that.”

“You?” he scoffed. “You’re nothing but a stripper whore. No one will believe what you have to say against me.” He tried to lunge forward once more, but Nick was taller and stronger and there was no way Malcolm could break his grip. “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m smarter than you,” I hissed. “I work harder than you, and I know more than you—that’s why you couldn’t stand it when I was about to make partner with you. All you are is a spoiled little trust fund baby with an overinflated sense of entitlement and a legacy law degree bought and paid for by your daddy. You should have just kept your fucking mouth shut and left me alone.”

“You wouldn’t dare⁠—”

“Really?” Now I was the one lunging at him to shove my finger in his face. “Try me and see. What do I have to lose now, you moron? That was my only secret.”

He kept quiet.

“He’s already lost everything.” Nick’s deep voice echoed in the charged silence. “Morgan played you at your own game, didn’t she?”

“What?” I had no idea what Nick was talking about.

“Morgan is set to inherit millions once she can access her trust fund,” Nick explained. “That’s partly why my mother is so obsessed with me getting back with her and why Morgan was always after me to take the job with my stepfather. Her problem is she can’t get to her money until she’s thirty-five. I just got off the phone with her. Her dad dug into you, just like you must have done to Clara. Right, Malcolm? That law firm of yours isn’t doing too well, is it?”

He looked at the floor and continued to say nothing as Jackson James and Wyatt, the sheriff’s deputies in town, entered my house and took command of the situation.

In a daze, I followed, watching in disbelief as they led Malcolm outside and read him his rights.

How someone could look so conceited and entitled while being handcuffed and shoved into the back of a deputy sheriff’s cruiser was beyond me.

He was huffing and puffing and talking about his father and his connections as if he had a leg to stand on. As if my freaking security cameras didn’t exist to capture this entire thing, as if there weren’t a crowd of neighbors outside watching the ridiculous aftermath play out.

Wyatt closed the door and pulled me into a hug. “You’ll be okay with Nick? Should I call your sisters? An ambulance? Are you hurt?”

“I’ll be okay, I’ll call them. No ambulance. I’m just shaken up a bit is all. Thanks, Wyatt.”

“We’ll be in touch. And if you need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” He exchanged a look with Nick.

“I got her. Thanks, man.”

“Hey.” Wyatt turned back. “I’ll call Everett to come secure that door for you, okay?”

“Thank you.”

As they drove off, Nick pulled me into his arms to lead me back to the house.

“Holy shit, Clara. My life flashed in front of me back there. The thought of not having you in it is intolerable. I can’t live without you, not anymore. You know that, right?”

“I was so scared,” I whispered as my arms tightened around his waist and the sob I’d been holding back shook me from head to toe.

He squeezed me back. “I’m here, I’ve got you, and I don’t think I’ll be able to let go of you anytime soon.”

“He broke into my house.” My tears stained the front of his shirt, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

“It’s okay, baby, we can fix that.”

“My therapist is going to make so much more money off me now . . .”

His chest rumbled in a laugh. “Baby, let’s get you inside.”