I stomped into my small kitchen and fought the urge to punch a cabinet door. Why hadn't I thought things all the way through? We put everything into the expose and left ourselves no small, torrid detail as leverage. All our cards were on the table and I didn't even have an ace up my sleeve.
The kettle barely fit in my sink above the dirty dishes. We hadn't touched a single thing after dinner. In fact, I didn't even remember if we finished our food.
"Maybe she'll run away with me," I muttered.
I spooned out coffee grounds and hoped the caffeine would clear my head. The only problem was I knew before Clarity was even awake that I would be lost as soon as I saw her emerald-bright eyes. She drew out parts of me that I thought were gone. For the first time I was seeing a future, but the best I could come up with was an extended road trip far away from Clarity's home.
There had to be a way I could shield her from retaliation. Barton was out. I would have assumed he'd come after us too, but the look on his face during our golf course confrontation showed a sliver of respect. Our business was over. The mess with Michael Tailor had just started.
Clarity's presence drew me back to the bedroom and I stood in the doorway. It was strange to be so still while inside everything roiled. Her phone started to buzz. If only she could sleep for a few moments longer, maybe I could come up with something for her.
I snatched up her phone and retreated back into the kitchen. The number was blocked and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It could have been anyone, but a cold flicker of certainty made me answer.
"Clarity Dunkirk?" A heavy male voice tried to sound cheerful.
"This is her phone," I said.
The man cleared his throat. "I need to talk with Ms. Dunkirk. She had an appointment with me on campus this morning and I have yet to see her at Landsman College."
"Who is this?" I asked. I crushed the phone in my fingers as I waited for him to respond.
"One of her professors. When is she planning to come to campus? This isn't something she should avoid."
The sharp edge of his voice cut my last scrap of peace to shreds. Tailor's men were waiting for her. Most likely for a harmless conversation that would tie her up in knots that Clarity would never be able to untangle.
I hung up on him and tossed her phone under the sofa cushions.
The scent of coffee permeated the bedroom and I heard Clarity stir in the bed. I sat down next to her just as her eyes opened. She blinked at the unfamiliar pillow, then squinted up at me.
"There you are," she murmured.
Relief made it easier to breathe. There were no traces of regret or even embarrassment in Clarity's sleepy voice. She didn't jump up with a horrified gasp and rail at herself for bad choices. Clarity was happy and relaxed.
Her hand slipped out of the sheets and squeezed my thigh. "Can't we just sleep in a little longer?" she asked.
She slipped across the bed, the sheet pulling aside to give me a glimpse of her pail skin. I leaned down and kissed her, sinking farther into her lips than the mattress. Then both our phones started buzzing and reality dragged us back.
"Don't answer it," I said.
Clarity slipped on a Landsman tee-shirt I had left thrown over my bedroom door handle. She padded on bare feet to the kitchen. "Ooh, good, there's coffee," Clarity said. "Have you checked the websites?"
"No," I admitted. "I've only been up for a few minutes."
"Good," Clarity smiled at me over the rim of a coffee mug. "I was beginning to think I didn't tire you out enough."
I slipped my hands around her waist and leaned us both against the kitchen counter. "I slept like a rock."
"A very solid, very warm, very comfortable rock," Clarity purred. Then she peeked over my shoulder towards my desk.
I let go and stepped aside. "Alright, fine, go check the websites, but I bet I can predict what you are going to find," I said. I poured myself a cup of coffee while she settled in front of my computer.
"You want the good news or the bad news?" Clarity asked.
"Bad news first. Always," I sighed.
Clarity waved me over to the computer. "Well, the article is gone from both your department website and the student newspaper website."
"So there's good news?"