Every Rose Has a Thorn (The Patriot Romance story)

Chapter 9

(A:N- This one is gonna be kind of short, I deeply apologize!)

Weeks passed and Clara was favored by everyone in the camp, normally because she could sew ripped clothing but that's beside the point. Tavington and Clara became rather "close" during the weeks, very close.

Tavington laid on his bed, holding Clara close to him, rubbing his hand up and down her bare back, tracing patterns along her skin. He looked down at the sleeping girl and kissed her forehead, waiting for her to wake up, the sun was just starting to come up. Clara's eyes fluttered open and she yawned, her messy red hair hung in her face, he kissed her nose and gazed into her eyes.

"Morning love." He whispered, Clara smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Mornin'." She whispered back and snuggled back under the sheets, clinging onto him.

"Cold?"

"A little bit," She shivered slightly, Tavington chuckled and rolled on his back, moving Clara so she'd be on top of him.

"Let me warm you up then love." He says and holds her tight, kissing her lips softly, Clara giggles and kisses him back, putting her arms on either side of him. They continue to *ahem* have their alone time. Tavington's hands roamed on her bare sides. Clara shivered with every touch he gave her, they both loved it.

"Colonel Tavington!" Bordon's voice called out from the tent, "Lord Cornwallis has requested a meeting with you at the fort."

Tavington grumbles and looks at Clara before kissing her hand, "I'll be back love, duty calls."

"I love you William." Clara says, kissing his cheek.

"I love you too my dear." He smiles and gets dressed before leaving the tent. Clara fell back asleep and woke up an hour later, she got dressed and headed to the river to start washing her clothes and sew up rips and tears. She sang softly to herself as she sat on a rock and cleaned up.

"Clara?" She turned and saw a soldier, walking down to the small river, going beside her, "That is your name huh?"

"Oh yeah." She nods and smiles at him.

"Right, I'm Sean." He introduces with a grin, "Need help?"

"Oh, I'm okay right now, but thank you!"

"Of course," He took off his coat and showed her a small tear, "Would you mind fixing it for me?"

"Oh no! I don't mind at all!" Clara says, taking the coat from his hands, folding it and setting it to the side.

The soldier looked around before looking down at her and smiling, Clara suddenly felt... uneasy in a way. Something in her gut was telling her that something was wrong.

She closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate on her work, the last mistake she'll ever make.

The sound of a gun went off, it alerted all the red-coats and they ran to where the sound came from, the river. They came upon Clara in the water, a cut on her lip, a bruise forming under her right eye, blood dripping down her hair, and holding a pistol. Her basket of clothes was dumped into the river.

The soldier's gaze was then fixated on a red-coat face down in the water, lifeless. Blood flowing into the river from his head. One of the men looked down and saw an eyeball and a needle sticking out of it.

"Mary Mother Of God!" He shouted in shock, they turned to Clara who was staring at them.

She killed him.