Chapter Two

Not long after he had gotten home from seeing Clare, he was drunk.

He, in his drunken state of mind, wanted to blame Clare for why he was drunk now. The pain that she had showed him. The depth of the hurt in her heart. How badly Jake Martin had hurt her and not just physically. She was the one who gave him a glimpse of what her pain was like.

And that had opened all sorts of old woulds that he thought had healed over time.

"Damn it!" He yelled at no one in particular, his voice sounding different; even to him. He was thankful that the tenets on his floor had other plans this evening because his music was loud and he was doing his best not to stumble around his apartment for fear of hurting himself.

So he just sat at the kitchen table, pouring what remained of his bottle of liquor. He looked through the top and into the bottom of the bottle with a disapproving frown.

"Shit."

He wasn't done drinking. He wasn't nearly as drunk as he would like to be. All he kept seeing was Clare and her tears and her exasperation. He needed to forget that image.

He needed more alcohol.

Which meant he needed to go to the store. Which meant a whole lot of things that, at the moment, he wasn't sure he could do without attracting the attention of the police.

Then an idea struck.

He picked up his cell and scrolled down until he saw her name. She was the newest addition but at the same time, an old one. He hit call and waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Clare?" Eli said as soberly as he could. "It's Eli. How... How are you?"

There was a short pause before she answered; "I'm fine. What's up?"

Jake must be listening. Eli thought to himself grimly. She wasn't being as friendly or as open as she had been at the coffee shop. "Um... I just wanted to know if you wanted to have a few drinks or something." He said, closing his eyes as the sound of that. Sounded like a desperate booty call. He didn't even know if Clare drank.

"That... that would be nice." Clare said softly. "Where... where should I meet you?"

Right. She couldn't let Jake know where she was going. He couldn't go and pick her up, even if he wasn't drunk. That meant meeting her at a halfway point. He mulled that over before dismissing that idea.

It would have to be here.

"My...my place?"

A longer pause followed. He hoped that she wasn't going to deny him now. She had already agreed to a few drinks. The place shouldn't matter. When she didn't reply right away, he added, "It's only a few blocks away from the coffee shop.. My car is in the shop and I would pick you up..."

"It's fine." Clare finally answered and he heard the muffled yet distinct chime of keys. She was leaving. "I'll be over there. What's the address?"

He gave her the address and had begun to give her directions when he said; "I just checked my liquor cabinet. I... don't have anything. Do you mind stopping to buy some more? I'll pay you back."

"You bought the coffee." Clare replied as if coffee and alcohol were the same price. "I've got this one. I'll... I'll see you soon."

And she hung up.

Deciding that he needed to sober up, he made his measure way to the bathroom and got a shower as quickly as he could. When it was finished, he felt sober enough to answer the door when Clare came and hopefully she wouldn't know that he had been drinking when he called her.

Almost half an hour passed when he heard the knock on his door. He got up and answered it, putting on his best smile despite not really feeling like it.

It faded fast.

Clare had tried to cover it up with makeup. Even with the coverup, he could see that there was a nice, deep bruise forming around her right eye. "It's what I get for being late." She replied to his unspoken question. "May... May I come in?"

He nodded mutely and gave her room to come in. She glided past him and as soon as he closed and locked the door, her arms were around his neck. She buried her face against his chest and sobbed.

He suddenly felt very sober.

"Ssh..." He patted her back gently and allowed her to sob. "It's okay. He won't get you here..."

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally managed to dislodge herself from his chest and look up into his eyes, tears still spilling from the corners. "I... I'm sorry..." She apologized, pulling away and wiping her eyes to no avail. "You wanted to have a good time and here I am, ruining it."

He shook his head. "No, not at all. You know-" He caught himself and corrected, "You knew you could always come to me. Just because we haven't spoken in years makes it any less true. I meant it then. And I mean it now."

She finally managed to get her tears under control. Her makeup had, unfortunately, smeared and exposed more of the bruise she had been attempting to cover up. He cringed as she reached into her pocketbook. She caught his gaze, just for a moment. She read him instantly. "It's bad, I know. I guess I'll go re-apply the makeup.. Where's your.."

He caught her arm as she turned to search for his bathroom. "I don't want you to put anymore on." He said softly. "I want you to remove it. I want to see what this bastard has done to you."

She flinched at the curse but looked up into his eyes, pleading with him. She didn't want to.

"Please." He said, even softer. "Please, Clare.."

She looked down after a moment and nodded. "Where's your bathroom?" She repeated her voice a whisper. Her bottom lip trembled and he couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and took her hand, leading her to his bathroom mirror and the wash cloth she could use. With a ragged sigh, she picked up the cloth, dabbed some warm water onto it, and slowly began removing the makeup inch by inch.

Eli watched, transfixed, as the twenty-six year old Clare turned, just for an instant, back into the fifteen year old Clare he had loved so deeply. With each centimeter of the bruise being revealed, the more his heart broke. He fought back tears and needed to look away when she was done. Her own eyes brimming with fresh tears as she looked onto his pained features.

"Eli..." She turned, grabbing his hand gently. Forcing him to look at her. "It's not your fault."

It sure feels like it. He retorted mentally. He shook his head. "I know. I know damn well whose fault it is..." His other hand curled into a fist as he thought about beating Jake Martin within an inch of his life.

Clare apparently could read minds as her expression softened. She reached out and cupped his cheek. She leaned closer, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered into his ear, "It's what I deserve for not giving you another chance."

He felt his heart break into two. Not being able to contain himself any longer, he pulled her close to him, setting his lips to hers hungrily.

She didn't pull away...