The moment Antonio grabbed Clara by the throat, a wave of fear washed through me like I hadn't felt in a long time. As soon as we got back to the clubhouse, Carrigan told me to shower and get my head right, and she took Clara to the kitchen. More than likely for a drink. If anyone is good at dealing with extreme trauma, it's the ol' ladies. They've all been through hell at the hands of others because of their affiliation with this club.
That's the only reason I haven't officially claimed Clara yet. Right now, I'm sitting on my side of the bed, facing the bathroom. She's wrapped in a towel, hair still damp, standing in front of the mirror, putting lotion on after her shower. There's faint bruises on the side of her neck from Antonio's grip. All I can think about is how much she means t
