Clato: Cuts Beneath the Surface

Chapter 21

Cato's mother is a scary witch. I'd like to say I gave her the benefit of the doubt but she gives me the creepers. Her blonde hair is so white it looks like stone, befitting of her statuesque face.
"This is Clove," Cato says again. "She's been in an accident and needs a place to stay." He avoids meeting either parents eyes. Cato's father watches me like a hawk, taking in the bruising around my face. His piercing blue eyes are nothing like his son's. They are hard and cold, unlike the soft twinkling ones I've come to know.

"You know we don't care who you have over." His mother says sharply. Ouch. I didn't know Cato's family was like this at all. Then again, with all the secrets I've kept who am I to judge? "You've had girls over before and never bothered us with them." she snipes. What kind of parent says that?

"Yes, but Clove is just a friend and she may be staying a long time." Cato says awkwardly. I begin to wonder how many girls he's had over and my heart contracts. Cato's father finally speaks.

"As long as this doesn't affect your training I don't care." he grumbles. "You will not neglect your training, will you?"

"No sir," Cato answers tiredly.

"You owe it to us to win. That is the most important thing, understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Then I don't care what you do so long as you make us proud." His father finishes. Cato pushes past them and into the castle of a house. I follow slowly, past the glaring eyes of his parents. I feel mistreated on behalf of Cato. If I ever get out of this mess I've made of my life I will try to help him.

"Scarlett's probably asleep." he whispers as we make our way across the grand black and white house.

"Who's Scarlett?" I ask. That better not be his new girlfriend.

"My little sister. She's seven." The same age as Winter I think. Cato shoves the back door open. "I live in the guesthouse. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." I say politely.

"After meeting my parents I can't imagine it's hard to understand why." I stay silent thinking that at least he has them both. At least their worst crime is caring too much. Cato leads me through a small white garage and up the back stairs to his "room". It's basically a small house set aside just for him. My mouth drops open at the luxurious rooms, couch and kitchens. There's a hug flat screen for most of one wall and several doors leading to more rooms.

"How rich are you?" I murmur and he snickers. I start to take off my coat and Cato helps me with it. I jerk back when his fingers skim my collarbone. There's too many scars for me to be touched. Even casually.

"You're going to stay here with me, unless you feel more comfortable in the big house?" he says.

"No." I say quickly. "Here is good." He smiles and I see a genuine happiness behind the pearly whites.

"I'll find some of my moms old clothes for you and some of mine. When you're feeling better we can buy you new ones." He offers. "Or go back for some of your things." he adds after seeing my face.

"Great." I manage to say, suddenly realizing that we will be alone in his apartment and that his parents don't care. "How many girls have you had here?" The question pops out before I can stop it. Cato gives me a strange look.

"Not as many as everyone thinks. I don't sleep around if that's what you're thinking." he snaps.

"It wasnt." I say and Cato returns my small smile. "I'd really like to shower." I tell him.

"Sure."He says, as relieved by the sudden change of topics as I am. "Do you need help getting the bandages off?"

"No." I say and follow him into a sleek black bedroom. There's a bathroom attached to it. "I'll be fine, I just need to feel clean." then quieter, I whisper, "I need to wash off his touch." I'm ashamed as soon as I've said it. Cato just gives me a warm look.

"I'm here for you if you need me." Somehow I don't think he's talking about the shower. I step into the bathroom and drop my crutches.

"Thank you." I tell Cato, and close the door.

The instant his footsteps fade away I collapse against the wall and burry my face in my hands. What am I doing here? I don't belong in Cato's rich, safe world. I don't belong anywhere this nice. Turning on the water I begin the brutal process of undressing. By the time I get in the water is scorching hot. I leave it that way, hoping it will sear away the marks beneath my skin. Hoping there is a way to erase the cuts beneath the surface.

Blood trickles away into the drain. I sit down, too exhausted to stand and wrap my arms around my knees. It's only then that I start to cry. Deep, aching sobs wrack my body. I don't care that it hurts.

I cry for Favian and the father he used to be. For the pure relief that this secret is no longer just my burden to carry. I cry for the siblings that I never had who never existed to protect me. I sob because the only person who's ever shown me such gentle kindness in my life must die for me to survive the game. And because I'm no longer sure I care about making it out of the arena.

It doesn't matter that we aren't there yet. My whole life has been an arena, a hellish nightmare. It's always been about coming out on top. Now I begin to wonder if maybe survivors aren't the lucky ones. They have to keep on living don't they? Is it better to die than be haunted by scars? I look at all of mine and cry harder.

I don't know how long it's been but I feel as though time has stopped for me. Shutting off the water I wrap a towel around myself. I dig one of Cato's shaving razors out of the cupboard. I'm just about to lift it to my wrist when there's a knock at the door.

"Clover?" his voice is full of concern. I drop the razor and fall to the ground with it. I'm too tired to argue as Cato slowly opens the door.

A/N Hope you are enjoying the story as much as I love writing it! Please comment and vote! Thanks!