Avenger (Impossible #3) by Julia Sykes Read Free Book Online

walking away from the grave.  The service was over.  I wanted to linger.  If I left Clayton, then that meant that he really was gone.  But then I saw his parents again, his mother leaning heavily on his father as she sobbed into his chest.  I had to get out of there before they noticed me.  Walking away from them on leaden legs, I blindly followed the winding path out of the graveyard.  I had reached the wrought iron gates when someone called me from my reverie.
    “Claudia.”  His voice was soft, but I recognized it immediately.  At first I felt bewilderment at his presence, but it was quickly overcome by a flood of white hot rage.  I suddenly realized that I wasn’t the only one to blame for Clayton’s death.  If I had never met Sean, then I never would have known Clayton, and he never would have died in order to protect me.
    I ignored him, refusing to look his way as I strode past him.  His large hand encircled my wrist, stopping me short.  I hated the feeling of yearning that rose up within me at his touch.
    “Wait,” he ordered.
    I jerked against his grip.  “Let me go,” I insisted.  But my struggles were fruitless.  His fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him.  I glared into his gorgeous green eyes, a mixture of loathing and longing washing over me.
    “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
    “You’re sorry? ”  I hissed.  “Fuck you, Sean.  This is your fault.”
    “Claudia, please,” he said desperately.  “I have to talk to you.  Please listen to me.”
    “Get away from me!”  I shrieked.  I beat my fist against his chest repeatedly, trying to force him away from me.  “I hate you!  I hate you!”  I was sobbing now.  He took the blows, refusing to budge.  His arms enfolded me, pulling me up against him in a fierce embrace.
    “I know,” he said brokenly.
    And then I was clinging to him, burying my face against his chest as my tears soaked his shirt.  I might hate him, but he was all that I had.
     

Chapter 5
    I allowed Sean to guide me to my car and drive me home.  My mind was too much of a mess for me to even begin formulating the words to protest.  I was devastated at what had happened to Clayton.  And I was brimming full of so much anger and hate.  It was directed at myself for being alive, at Clayton for having sacrificed himself for me, at Sean for being a part of the violent world that had claimed the life of my only friend.  But the more that I focused on my fury, the more it became directed at one person: Bradley.  He had fired the shot that had taken Clayton’s life, the shot that had stolen him from me.  Furthermore, he was the one who had chosen to abduct me, not Sean.  It was his fault that Clayton had become involved in my life in the first place.  If Bradley hadn’t taken me on that night, then I would still be living my controlled, pain-free life.  There had been times when I thought that, despite the pain, I was better now for having known Sean and Clayton and learning what it was to really be alive.  But I would have traded all of that if it meant that Clayton would still be alive now; I would rather be dead inside than have him dead in the ground.
    I had told myself that I died inside again on the day that Sean left me, but that wasn’t true.  I still hurt.  Surely someone with nothing inside should be immune to pain?
    Yes, if Bradley had never abducted me, then Clayton would be alive.  But a horrible thought struck me: if I hadn’t been there to save Sean that night, then he would be dead now.  And I would never even know it, would never have even known him.  Would some part of my soul have felt a distant sense of loss when his soul left the world, even if he was a stranger to me?  The cold, logical side of me told me that if we were weighing the two men’s worthiness by their deeds, then Clayton most certainly deserved to be the one who was living now.  But I had learned the painful lesson that the world wasn’t that