Claire Torn Novels & Stories

Claire “You haven’t told me what I want to hear, Mrs. Claire. Do you want to be punished again?” he asked, his fingers never slowing, circling my clit with cruel, perfect pressure. “Just kiss me,” I pleaded, my voice small and desperate, trembling on the edge of breaking. He scoffed, the sound low and mocking in my ear. “You’re one stubborn woman, Mrs. Claire. I’ll break you piece by piece until there’s nothing left but the truth.”

“If the doctor says she’s perfectly fine and just milking the attention, I win. You stop this nonsense. You stop checking on her. You stop letting her live rent-free in your head. And you finally treat me like your actual Luna.” She paused, letting the silence stretch. “And if she’s really hurt?” I asked. Claire shrugged one elegant shoulder. “Then I’ll be the bigger person and say I was wrong. But we both know she’s not.” My pulse thundered in my ears. I looked at her. Riven’s voice again, quieter this time, almost pitying. Claire who left you for another man suddenly appears and the next thing you do is welcome her with wide arms?

Every Rogue was holding a gleaming silver blade in their hands. Rays of light streaming from the crowns of the trees glinted off the metal, sending chills down my spine. They didn't give me a chance to run, closing in from front and back, blocking every escape. "Claire! What are you doing?" I snarled. "Making you disappear, forever!" Claire's eyes burned with hatred as she edged closer with her blade. "Once you're gone, they'll come back to me!"

With her hands clasped together on her lap, Claire sat as still as a statue. Her head remained turned toward the window as she cautiously watched the world outside, silently praying that the maniac hadn't followed them. Noah drove swiftly, but his concerned gaze kept drifting toward her trembling figure. Raw fear lingered in her eyes whenever Adrian crossed her mind. Noah still hadn't healed, but her trauma so consumed Claire that she failed to notice the fresh bandages wrapped around his head and hands.

The young billionaire looks terrible, or at least he should if you examine the dark circles around his eyes, and yet, I still find him annoyingly attractive. "No!" Catherine holds up her finger to hush the taller man. "I'm leaving, and don't pretend that you care because I know you don't care about anyone but yourself! You're such a dick, and honestly, fuck you, fuck you, Ariel!" Ariel sighs but doesn't say another word. He silently stands there like stone even as Catherine hurries down the stairs with tears in her eyes. I feel so awkward having watched that, and when Ariel turns around, I immediately return to my food.

“You don’t need to be away as much as you are. You don’t need to work at a diner — what do you do with the money I send you every month?” “I put it in a college fund for Scottie.” “That’s goddamned stupid, Claire,” he said with a shake of his head. “Why won’t you let me take care of you?” “Because I don’t want your blood money, Patrick.” Now I was the one who was raising my voice. “I left because I don’t want to be a part of the drugs and the guns and the fighting and the violence. I left because I don’t want Scottie to be exposed to that shit. I want a better life for him than the ones we had growing up.”

I said, choosing to remain standing. “Maybe I should go inside?” Claire asked, looking up at me. The worried look in her eyes was back. I rubbed her back. “Help your Mommy bring out some drinks,” I told her. She nodded and climbed off her chair, running inside. “Talk to me,” I said, taking the chair Claire vacated. The tough act fell immediately, being replaced with fear. “I can’t find Minerva.” I ran my fingers through my hair and cursed. "I'm sorry to hear that," I said. I meant it, too. From what I last heard, Minerva, Troy’s mate had gotten married but was divorced less than a year after that.

The day before Thanksgiving, my younger sister, Lily, suddenly offered to braid my hair. I had barely sat down when I heard the sharp snip of scissors behind me. The hair I had spent seven years growing for my winter marking ceremony had been cut off at the nape of my neck. Rowan had once promised that when we officially became mates, he would pin up my hair himself and place a moonstone crown on my head. But Lily collapsed onto the couch laughing, still clutching the severed length of hair. “Sorry! I cut off a little too much. Claire, you look like a wolf who failed to shed properly!” My mother laughed too. “It looks better this way. At least you won’t wear it loose all the time.” My father

Aleah continued, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. "I didn’t realize… You’ve been through so much, haven’t you?" Claire said, her tone laced with guilt. "Was it because of Tita Melissa and… our family?" she asked hesitantly. "I noticed your struggles back then, but I turned a blind eye. I thought it wasn’t my place to get involved. I’ve always liked being on my own, so I didn’t think I could understand how you were feeling," Claire admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "But in the future, if you ever feel lonely or need someone, I hope you’ll think of me. I’d like us to grow closer. I’ve always wished for a younger sibling… If you could consider me as someone you—"

“I know it sucks, but I can’t see any other way. As soon as we find help, we’ll send the police and paramedics out here first thing. I promise.” Clare thought about the poor woman, the torture she’d been through, the insanity she’d wrapped around her mind to protect herself from even greater insanity. She was broken, and Clare had such a need to put her back together again. But like all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, she had to face the fact that such reconstruction was beyond her abilities. “Okay,” she said, giving him back the mallet. “None of that even matters if we don’t get through that damn window.”