****
Nick was going to make her say it. Clara folded her arms underneath her breasts aware the shirt she wore rode up her thighs. She had spent the last hour listening to the women laugh and giggle. Every noise made her aware of how she stood out like a sore thumb. He could have any woman he wanted. Instead he’d bought her.
Why would anyone want anything to do with her? The women were gorgeous and didn’t have a single ounce of excess fat on them.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, repeating his question.
“Why me? Why did you pick me?” She opened her arms wide feeling all the years of insecurity clawing up on her.
His eyes looked up and down her body. “Whatever you’ve got to say, Clara, just come out and say it,” he said.
She knew he was angry, but so was she.
“I’m not like other women. I eat food, and I’ve got extra weight on my bones. I’m not beautiful at all. Why me? Why did you pick me?” she asked, glaring at him.
When she finished, she was panting for breath.
“You didn’t learn anything from your punishment, did you?” His hands rested on his hips waiting.
“This morning wasn’t about punishment. You were just looking for any excuse to get me naked. You’re like them.” She pointed downstairs thinking about how the woman left her feeling. “You only want to humiliate me.”
Clara stared at him accusing him at every turn.
“So you think I only want to hurt you, humiliate you?” he asked.
“We don’t know each other. What am I supposed to think?”
Nick took a step back. “I don’t care what you think, but whatever it is, I need to get away from you, otherwise I’m going to hurt you.”
He left the room, leaving her standing, staring at the space he’d been standing in.
What had just happened? Folding her arms, she held onto herself trying to ground her rioting thoughts. Shit, she’d just accused him of using her when the truth was she’d been angry and jealous of the women. When he left the room they’d talked amongst themselves ignoring her.
Why had she lashed out at Nick? He’d not done anything but make her feel special since knowing him. This morning had been the highlight of her life. His touch made her burn in ways she didn’t know existed.
Great, Clara, you’ve fucked up big time.
Feeling awful at blaming Nick for everything, she started walking around the house trying to find him. He was nowhere to be seen. His office was bare along with the kitchen, sitting room and the garden. The doors were no longer closed. Her chance to escape was at her fingertips. Stepping out, she looked up at the sun feeling the heat glowing over her.
“No,” she said, speaking to herself.
She couldn’t leave.
Turning, she walked back into the house and went toward the gym. She found Nick pummeling the life out of a punching bag that hung on a hook. He didn’t stop as she entered.
“You could have run,” he said, hitting out.
“I know. I didn’t want to leave.” She answered him truthfully.
He jerked, turning to look at her. “Why? I’m such an awful person.”
Staring down at the floor she wished it would open up and take her away. “I was an idiot.”
Nick started to hit at the punching bag.
“I’m sorry, okay. I don’t know you at all, and I lashed out. I shouldn’t have done it, but I did.” She ran fingers through her hair, looking around the room. “You bought me with money, Nick. What do you expect me to say?”
“I took you away from cruel bastards who were abusing you.” His eyes shone amber as they stared at her.
“I don’t know you. You’re outlawed.”
She’d seen the silver in his chest showing his outlawed status. The sight didn’t affect or offend her. Clara recalled women saying how ugly it made the person who carried the outlawed mark. Nick wasn’t ugly. Nothing would stop his sexiness, not even silver embedded in his chest.
He lashed out, kicking the punching bag off the hook. She watched the dent the bag made in the wall. His strength shocked her.
“You want to know about me, fine, I’ll tell you what you need to know.” He turned to stare at her.
She glanced down to his chest, biting her lip at the silver. It must have hurt to have his flesh cut apart and the silver poured into the cut.
“I was an alpha. A fucking good one. I ruled my pack and took pride at how they flourished. Every decision I made, I did so to bring them a good life. I’m not a mean son of a bitch like some of them.” He picked up the bag, resting it against the opposite wall. She saw him shake his head at the damage he caused.
“Then one day I invited some of the alpha collective to my place in kindness and celebration of a mated couple.” He stared at something over her shoulder, clearly seeing into his own past rather than at her. “The celebrations were high, the alcohol was flowing, the love building to a combustible level.” He swallowed. “I walked into the house to hear screaming and scuffling. The smell of fear came from the basement. Without calling for any of my pack I went to see what the damage was.”