Enemy Beloved

18 | for her

★

V A U G H N

The man grunts when I press my knee over his chest as I reach for his mask. Behind us, Claire stands as quietly as a stone.

The moment Rose told me she couldn't find Claire, I rushed here only to see my sister crying as she held Claire's bag tightly in her shivering hands. I asked her to go to the car while David and I started searching at different ends. Fortunately, I found her just in time.

The man tries to reach for his knife but I shove it away from within the reach of his hand. When I face him again, he uses my momentary distraction to pick up a stone from the ground and hurl it toward my face.

A shearing pain grapples me and he pushes me off him, toppling me to the ground. I groan in pain and when I open my eyes, he has disappeared.

Fucking bastard!

I get up, intending to follow his muddy footsteps but then decide against it. I turn around quickly and my eyes fall on Claire.

She is looking at me with a terrified look in her eyes. She trembles as the rain drenches her. Droplets fall down her long lashes as she takes a step toward me.

"Claire." I move forward. "Are you okay?"

I extend a hand towards her and she looks at my hand, then at me. Before I know it, she rushes towards me and collides hard with my body. Her arms wrap themselves around my waist and she presses her head to my chest, hugging me like she would never let go.

I freeze, unable to move at all as I feel her heart beating rhythmically against mine. I hear her sobs and it paralyzes me. I put my shaking arms around her, keeping her close and letting her cry her heart out.

"Shh...it's okay, Claire." I trail my hand through the long length of her hair. My fingers get tangled up in her wet strands but I don't care. I only care that she is safe. "You're safe. You're safe..."

I press my lips to the crown of her head and keep repeating the words again and again.

***

Hours later, Claire finally gets the chance to take a shower after the cops take her statement, and Mom and Rose try their best to comfort her. She hasn't spoken a single word to me ever since the incident and her tears have dried up.

"What kind of mask was it?" my private investigation officer inquires over the phone as I sit on the bed and give him the details.

My bedroom hasn't changed the least bit even though it has been a day since Claire moved in with me. It is still my lonely, grey-walled room with a guitar hanging on the wall near the walk-in closet, a stereo and a TV, and a bed in the center with silky white sheets.

Claire hasn't touched anything and it makes me feel a pang in my heart.

There should have been changes. She hasn't even unpacked her luggage.

I withdraw my eyes from the bathroom door where Claire is cleaning herself off the attacker's touch. She has been there for an hour already.

"I don't know what it's called. It was something like..."

"An Arlecchino mask." Claire's voice makes me look at the bathroom door again and I find her standing outside, changed into a white nightgown.

Her eyes are still bloodshot with the tears she spilled before and the towel in her hand is quivering as she looks at me.

"An Arlecchino mask," I repeat over the phone, keeping my eyes on Claire.

"Hmm..." the officer hums. "I have taken note of the important details. If I need any other information, I'll let you know. I wanted to call personally to see if all the details were correct. Thank you for your time, Mr. Jackson."