For Wrath and Redemption (The Hometown Heartless)

by Brit Benson

What they don’t seem to get is how desperately my life might depend on this tour. I’m not exaggerating. Without it, I worry I’ll spiral. I’ll circle the drain without a call time or an adoring crowd to fish me out.

How can you truly love someone if your life, your happiness, depends on their acquiescence? If it’s conditional on their loyalty and obedience?

I was right. She’s trouble. With a capital fucking T.

if the tabloids hadn’t confirmed it, the exchange in his hotel room did: Jonah Hendrix is going to be a pain in my ass, and I am in way over my head.

If I can keep the upper hand over Claire Davis, I can ride this out. I can play this game. As long as I can control little Ms. Trouble, it will all be fine.

Are you just a pretty little lie, Claire?

“I don’t think you’d be so celebrated back home if they knew the real Claire Davis. Do you?”

“Without the rock star façade to hide behind, you’re everything you hate. Just a spoiled little rich boy from upstate New York. Youngest of two sons. The baby. Set up for success by your parents in every possible way. Went to the best private schools on Daddy’s generational wealth. Got a legacy acceptance to Yale. A trust fund, a mega yacht, a summer house in the South of France, and absolutely zero consequences for any of your bad behavior. The perfect little pride and joy. Until now.”

I don’t know if I’m going to succeed with Jonah Hendrix, but goddamn it, I will die trying. He’s a brand. Nothing more. As long as I remember that, I’ll at least get out with my sanity intact.

The way my simple compliment shocks her is almost sad. The confidence and attitude she exuded seconds earlier are gone, and now she’s just an uncertain, insecure girl. Yearning for acceptance, but so unaccustomed to praise that she collapses in the face of it.

“Are you saying you’re my queen, then?” “Your words. Not mine.” “The queen’s the most important piece on the board, Davis. Sounds to me like that’s you.”

Photos like this always make me want to smile and cry. Smile because I never thought my brother would get here, and cry because I’m not part of it.

“You have to forgive yourself, even if they can’t.”

You’re allowed to move on. It sounds like you’ve punished yourself enough.”

“Sometimes you have to cut away the worn-down parts of yourself,” Mabel says. “The shit weighing you down. You’ve got to shed it so you can move forward.”

It takes effort to tear my eyes from hers, but I make myself do it. I don’t like the way my heart starts to race the longer I look at her. I don’t like the way my neck starts to heat, or the way I can almost smell her lavender and sugar scent from across the room. I don’t like the way my motives start to blur at the edges. I don’t like any of it.

“I’m not jealous, but I’m struggling with feelings of abandonment, and I don’t need a therapist to tell me that. I understand my emotions and actions perfectly. Callie chose Torren, and Torren chose Callie, and now I’m stuck with you.”

Breath play has always been my kink, and she has such a pretty little neck.

I’m attracted to her shadow and captivated by her trauma. Drawn to darkness and pain.

I fucking hate it. I hate it because I’m not just starting to understand her, I’ve started to like her. To respect her. I’m a little in awe of her, to be honest, and that’s probably the biggest problem. Developing feelings for my nanny could cause a serious fucking mess. The plan was to charm her. Not be charmed.

He may have handed me the match, but I’m the one who struck it and set everything ablaze.

Even in the best friendship I’ve ever had, I still kept secrets. I still spent every day pretending to be something I wasn’t. And when it mattered the most, I let down the people I loved.

It’s not a good idea to fall for Jonah Hendrix, but I’m not an idiot. I know I’ve got a crush.

“Do you know what, Claire?” I swallow roughly. “What?” “I. Pay. Attention.”

“I pay attention to every single thing you do, and it’s driving me fucking crazy.”

“I pay attention. The way you blush. The way you think. The way you fucking smell. You’re all I can think about, and I want you. I want you, Claire, and it’s going to get me in so much fucking trouble. But you want to know a secret?”

“Yes,”

“Trouble is my we...

You just had to do it, didn’t you?” “Do what?”

“Be fucking irresistible.”

“You sure you want to feed my ego like that? You think I’m an arrogant asshole now? The way you’re staring at my cock is about to make me insufferable.”

“Tell me you’re going to give me exactly what I’ve been wanting since I first saw you in that hotel room.”

“Fuck you.” He squeezes his eyes shut and groans. “Fuck you, Claire Davis.”

I’m obsessed with her. There’s no other way to explain how she’s invaded my mind, tormenting me with her presence while I’m awake and asleep.

And the thing I don’t want to admit, even to myself, is that I want to keep her. I want her to be mine. I just don’t know in what capacity. Sex slave? Soulmate?

I get no peace from Claire Davis. I am in so much fucking trouble. Fuck her for being so fucking tempting. Fuck her for being everything I dream about. But fuck, do I want to fuck her.

It’s hard for me to deal with my feelings for you.” Got her. Her eyes widen. “Toward me, you mean?” “I said what I said. I told you in Lisbon that I want you. Almost having you has only made it worse.”

Of all the women I’ve met, why does this one have to be the one who fucks with me? Why here? Why now? Supreme temptation. It’s my punishment.

I want her. I want to hurt her. I want to hurt my father. I want to light our pasts on fire so I can keep her for myself, knowing damn fucking well that it’s impossible.

Fuck her. Fuck Claire Davis for being the only woman I’ve ever wanted to keep.

He hurt me. He devastated me, in fact. But he didn’t break me, and I’m not going anywhere. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, anyway.

Jonah Hendrix is my penance. I meant it when I said he would regret it if I left. What I didn’t admit was that I would regret it, too.

“Tell me you feel it. I know I’m not imagining this. I know it. Tell me you feel it, too, whatever this is.”

“I regret it because you fucking own me now. I regret it because you consume me. But God, I want it. I want it even if you’ll just trap me and take all my money.”

“I expected the worst so I wouldn’t hope for the best,” I confess. “You’ve gotten under my skin, Trouble, and I like it. I like it too fucking much. And I just kept thinking, when she leaves...”

“I kept thinking, When she leaves, she’ll go back to him, and she’ll take my heart with her.”

She matters. She fucking matters. And I can’t lose her.

“I don’t want privacy, Trouble. I don’t want a longer leash. You could tether me to your leg, and I’d fucking love it.”

I don’t deserve her. I’m sure of it. But fuck me, I’m going to keep her.

I’m not much of a reader.” “That’s a shame, Trouble. I don’t fuck girls who don’t read.”