For Wrath and Redemption (The Hometown Heartless)

by Brit Benson

This woman is going to give me trouble.

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

“And here’s something you should understand, Mr. Hendrix. Managing public relations is a lot like chess, and I am very good at chess.” My eyes flare at her words, and her lips twitch, almost as if she’s fighting a smirk. Chess. Managing public relations is a lot like chess. The analogy isn’t lost on me. I can read behind the lines. If this is chess, then I’m about to be her pawn.

“Do I need to be worried about you sneaking out? Are you sixteen now?” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need a babysitter when I was sixteen.” “Hm. Regression, then.”

Damn Claire 👏🏼

Without the rock star façade to hide behind, you’re everything you hate. Fuck her for being right. Fuck her for seeing me so clearly yet getting it so fucking wrong, too.

You let me get you across the board, and then you can take over the game. I hand you the crown.” I bite my cheek to keep from letting my smile free and look right at her face. I can’t tell if she looks back, but I think she does. “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.”

♟️ 👑

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.

As soon as I saw the small wooden queen, I thought of her. I grabbed it and painted it blue, like her eyes. It’s strategy. It’s a stealthy move.

I spend the rest of the ride listening to her breathe. I time my breaths with hers, each inhale like a knife to the chest. Filling my lungs with lavender and sugar. Taking hits of her like I need a fix.

It’s such a strange form of temptation. I’m attracted to her shadow and captivated by her trauma. Drawn to darkness and pain.

“Do you know what, Claire?” I swallow roughly. “What?” “I. Pay. Attention.” Jonah leans closer, invading my space completely, and puts his lips against my ear. My eyes flutter shut. I breathe him in when I know I shouldn’t. I revel in the way his cheek feels against mine. The way his heat sears my skin. “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,” I whisper, and I feel him smile. “Trouble is my weakness.”

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. Claire Davis could be my penance, but I’ll be damned if I admit my sins out loud. They’re mine and mine alone to contend with.

I don’t know what to do moving forward, but I do know that I’m going to do my best not to hurt her again. I’m not leaving because I care. I’m not leaving because you matter. I replay her words over and over in my head. She cares. I matter to her. She chose to stay. I hold on to that. I let it propel me through the rest of the afternoon. Through the whole show. I sink my teeth into it and refuse to let go as I lie down to sleep. She matters. She fucking matters. And I can’t lose her.

He’s enchanting, is what he is. It’s the only word I can think to describe it. Jonah Hendrix is fucking enchanting, and I’ve been enchanted.

He might mean I’m his right now, but my heart will be his forever. Checkmate, Jonah Hendrix. You’ve won.

“I just feel...I just feel everything.” I laugh into her hair, then press a kiss to her head. “I know. Me too.” Fucking everything.

We’re two disasters, he and I. Two broken, damaged people who’ve made so many mistakes. But this sesame seed? Something tells me it’s not one of them. Together, we can grow back better. We deserve to grow back better. The three of us. It’s the revival that feels so sweet.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me.

He reaches up and fingers one of my loose curls, tugging it down before letting it spring back up, and then he smiles.

🥹

“I hope you’re prepared. I’m going to love you so fucking hard, you won’t know what hit you.”

“Checkmate, Trouble. This win is all mine.”

The two loves of my life, and not for the first time, I’m so grateful that I’m experiencing these emotions unhindered. Raw and real and overwhelming in the best, most moving of ways. In this moment, I can’t bring myself to regret any decision I’ve made, no matter how reckless, because it brought me to her. To here. To them. This is healing. They are my purpose. This right here. This is my redemption.

“I didn’t know I could love someone so much so quickly in such a new way. It’s like...it’s like a new part of me was born with her. Created for her. Does that make sense?” I look back at Claire and find her smiling softly, and she nods. “Yeah. It makes perfect sense.”

Endlessly.