and think.
He was left standing in a bathroom, propping himself up against the sink so he wouldn’t fall over.
Just a few minutes alone. That’s all he needed to make sense of all of this and figure out what to do.
He slumped down onto the lid of the toilet. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably. A mixture of rage and despair slammed through his veins.
In the past few minutes, his world had been scrambled, leaving him swirling around, trying to find something solid to hold. Every thought he grasped was even more fucked-up than the last, making him wonder if he was completely sane. His mom hadn’t exactly been the most stable woman on the planet. Maybe all of this was some kind of delusion—something he’d inherited from her, along with his creepy amber eyes.
And if he wasn’t insane, the alternative was even worse. He was a puppet. Used. Just like he’d been when he was a kid. He’d promised himself it would never happen again—that no one would ever use him for any reason.
Here he was, a toy for the amusement of others, and he hadn’t even known it.
Clay wasn’t sure how long he sat there, letting his brain spin, trying to make sense of something where there was no sense to be had. His body settled, and the shaking eased enough that he felt like he could stand without puking or falling over.
What was waiting for him on the other side of that door was a fucked-up mess, but one he would face head-on, the way he always did. He wouldn’t let anyone stop him from setting this right and finding the people responsible.
Clay wasn’t the only one they’d hurt. Apparently, they’d hurt Leigh’s brothers, too. That put her and Clay on the same side, somehow. It didn’t mean he trusted her, but she might be the only person who had some clue of what he was going through. Doctor or not, he couldn’t push that away. Not now, when he had nowhere else to go that wouldn’t risk Mira’s life.
He splashed water on his face and left the bathroom. Leigh was sitting near the door, coffee in hand, as if waiting for him to come out.
When she saw him, she straightened in her chair. “How are you feeling?”
“Pissed. Caged. Used.”
She nodded, a flash of sadness dulling her eyes. “Garrett never tells me the truth when I ask him that. He always says he’s fine, even though I know Stho, a flash he’s not.”
“Is that your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“Did they find who fucked with his head?”
“No.”
“How does he manage? Is he hiding out in some posh vacation house, too?”
“No. He’s in prison.”
The thought of being locked up made Clay’s core temp plummet. He’d drive off a cliff before he let someone put him behind bars. “What did these fuckers make your brother do? Did he hurt someone?”
She sniffed, staring in her coffee cup while tears glistened in her eyes. After a moment, she was back in control again and the tears were gone as if they’d never been. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He was going to make her talk about it, but she didn’t seem like the kind of woman he could bully. Better to get her to drop her guard and then pull the information out, nice and gentle.
Clay pretended that he didn’t mind changing the subject. “Where’s Payton?”
“He left to start tracking down answers. He said he’d text me when he had news. We’re supposed to stay here until we hear from him.”
The clock on the kitchen wall said it was nearly dawn. “You look tired. You should get some rest.”
She lifted a dark red brow at that. “You really think I’m going to be that easy to trick? I go to sleep and you sneak out without me?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he lied.
She went to the counter and dug in her purse. When she turned back around, a shiny pair of handcuffs was dangling from one finger. “Payton left them.”
“Kinky.”
“In your dreams. He also said you knew how to pick the lock, so if I’m going to rest, it’ll be with you and me locked up together so
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