Chapter 17

17

Clarke

T he bed was empty when I woke up, both sides of me cold, which I decidedly hated . Frowning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes with a yawn big enough to make my jaw pop. Despite having the best night's sleep I'd had in… well, ever, I still felt as if I could sleep for at least another few hours.

The air was cool on my skin as I slid out of bed. The clothes I'd had on the night before were neatly folded and sitting on the nightstand. Silently thanking whoever was kind enough to do that, I quickly dressed before padding barefoot out of Tank's room and into the living room.

Pausing, I stared at the sight before me. Tank and Beck were on the floor, and Beck was crying into Tank's chest, clinging to him as if Tank was his lifeline. Sensing my presence, Tank looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine. I swallowed thickly, my chest tightening, my fingers twitching at my sides.

What happened? Why was Beck crying? He was so distraught—I'd never seen him like this before. And honestly, it was freaking me out. Beck was always the strong one out of the two of us. I wasn't even sure if I'd ever seen him cry before.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice still husky with sleep. My hands began to tremble at my sides, so I curled my fingers into fists, trying to quell the panic rising inside me.

Beck jumped back from Tank and swiped at his cheeks, but it was too late. I'd already seen how much of a mess he was; there was no hiding whatever was happening from me. And I wasn't dropping the matter until I found out what'd caused Beck to fall apart.

I could protect and heal him, too.

"I, uh, I'll take a shower," Beck croaked, standing to his feet. Tank watched him rush past me, the door to our room shutting just a little too hard and loudly, making me flinch. Tank sighed and hung his head for a moment before standing to his feet and holding his hand out to me.

I stared at his hand for a moment, my heart in my throat. Beck hadn't even been able to try to hide how upset he was. That was enough to know that whatever happened, it was fucking bad . My gut churned, nausea rising in my throat.

Slowly, I uncurled my fingers and placed my hand in his. He led me over to the couch and tugged me down onto his lap before gently beginning to play with the ends of my tangled, messy, blonde hair. "I need you to brace yourself," he began. I tensed, my muscles going rigid. "I've got something to tell you. The news hit Beck pretty hard, so I'm worried it might hit you even harder."

I licked my suddenly dry lips, my hands beginning to tremble. I clenched his forearm, digging my nails into his skin. "What is it, Ash?" I croaked, turning my head to look at him. "Just spit it out. I can't take the suspense."

He drew in a deep breath before reaching up to cup my cheek. His fingers sank into the hair right behind my ear. "Your parents sold you." I just stared at him, unable to even do so much as blink as I attempted to process his words. "In exchange for weapons, they sold you to the Bradley crime family, and every time you were sold, they earned fifteen percent of that profit as well."

They sold me. They earned money off me.

I should have been surprised. I should have been angry. Upset.

Something .

Instead, I just felt… numb. Empty. Hollow. Like something in me had completely shut off to protect myself. To keep my mind from just… snapping.

"I shouldn't have left you," Beck croaked from the end of the hall, making me turn to look at him. His chest was bare, only a towel wrapped around his waist. I could hear the shower running from our bathroom, but he obviously hadn't used it yet. "I failed you, Clarke, and I'm so goddamn sorry. So fucking sorry, baby."

I shook my head, blinking at him. "Why? It's not your fault our parents are shitty and value money over a human life."

Beck stepped a little further into the room, frowning at me, concern seeping into his eyes. "Clarke, are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." It wasn't a lie. I was. A little empty at the moment, but I was okay. I didn't feel like bursting into tears. Didn't feel like I was going to fall apart.

"She's fine," Tank assured him, his hand still cupping my cheek, his fingers still in my hair. "Go on and take your shower, baby boy. I've got her."

Beck sighed, his shoulders slumping a little before he nodded and disappeared back down the hall. But this time, I didn't hear the door shut, and I could still hear the shower.

Tank turned my head to face him, running his eyes over my features. "Feeling a bit numb, little one?"

I frowned at him. "How'd you know?"

Tank gave me a tiny smile. "Because I've been in your shoes, Clarke," he said softly. "For the first fifteen years of my life, I endured what you have for the past few months. Becoming numb… it's your mind's way of keeping you from breaking. Over time, you'll be able to cope with what happened to you in a healthy way, but right now, what you're feeling is okay. It's normal, even."

"Ash, I'm so sorry," I whispered, my heart breaking for him. I cupped his face in my hands, stroking my fingertips along the top of his stubble. "Fifteen years ?" I'd only been trapped in that hell for a few months. I wouldn't have managed years .

He nodded. "Yeah, little one. Fifteen years."

My lips trembled, tears burning in my eyes. "Ash—" I croaked.

He shook his head before turning to press a kiss to my palm. I drew in a shaky breath when he let his eyes meet mine again. "We're not doing that, little one. No tears for me, you hear me? I'm okay. I've healed, and for me, it was a long time ago." Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to mine in a soft, chaste kiss. "I need to make all of us something to eat. Will you be okay?"

I nodded. "I'll be okay," I promised him. "I'm going to take a shower with Beck." Standing from his lap, I blew out a soft breath. "I think he needs someone."

Tank reached out to gently squeeze my hip before he stood to his feet. "You both do, little one." He pressed a kiss to my temple before heading into the kitchen. I headed for our bedroom and quickly stripped out of my clothes before padding naked into the bathroom.

Beck had his hands pressed to the shower wall and was leaning forward, his head hanging between his arms as the water beat down on his skin. I quietly slipped in before wrapping my arms around his waist. When I pressed my cheek to his back, he dropped a hand from the wall and pressed it over mine, a shuddered breath ripping from his lungs.

"I can't believe—" his words broke off, pain in his voice. " God , Clarke…" He turned in my arms before holding my face between his palms, so much pain for me—for everything we'd gone through—in his eyes. "I love you, baby, and I'm so fucking sorry they hurt you like that."

I leaned forward and rested my head on his chest. He dropped his hands to wrap his arms around me, squeezing me to him.

"I'm numb to it right now," I warned him, "but Ash said that's okay, and that it's normal." I lifted my head, tilting it back to look up at him. "But when I inevitably fall apart over this?—"

"I'll be right there to hold every piece of you in my hands," he promised, his voice raspy. I swallowed thickly when he pressed his forehead to mine, our eyes locked together. "I swear to you, I will, Clarke."

That was all I needed. So long as I had him—and Ash—I would be okay. Always.