Beneath These Scars

by Meghan March

  “Have you contacted the senators on my list?” I asked, not wasting a breath on greetings or small talk. That wasn’t how Colson and I worked.

  “Yes. Hendricks and Shuman are willing to meet for dinner to discuss it. They of course picked the priciest place in town, and you know it’s on your dime.”

  “Like I care.”

  “I know you don’t, but I never cease to be amused by the greed of some of these politicians.”

  “Good. What else?”

  Colson said nothing but his gaze darted to the windows, telling me there was something he didn’t want to share.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Have you thought about just agreeing to Haines’s request? It’s one favor. Your marker. It’s really not that big of an ask, Lucas, and it would get us over the finish line without having to deal with all these other politicians and environmental groups.”

  The question was a fair one, but that didn’t mean it didn’t grate on me. “I don’t pay you to question my judgment. I’m not going there unless we have no other alternative.”

  Colson shrugged. “Your choice.”

  And it was. This was my empire, and no one but me would decide how it moved forward.

  But it seemed Colson wasn’t done. “I know how much this means to you—”

  “Don’t. Do not fucking psychoanalyze me. This is business.”

  Colson crossed his arms and stared me down. “Anyone else might believe you, but I know the truth. You won’t be able to rest until you’ve proven your father wrong—and made billions doing it.”

  I slammed my palms down on my desk. “Leave it alone.”

  “You wanna lie to yourself, go for it.”

  I’d said something very similar to Yve earlier, and I hated having my own words thrown back at me.

  “Get out. Go do your damn job.”

  Colson nodded. “Fine. Be a stubborn bastard.”

  AS I FLIPPED THE OPEN sign to Closed, I could feel Jerome’s eyes on me even as I heard him shuffling around the interior of the store. He’d been an amazing help today. We’d been inundated with people, and while I could have survived without him, I would’ve had a lot more unhappy customers because they would have been waiting much longer while I helped others.

  Wondering if my unease at going home was actually visible, I frowned. The shrewd old man seemed to read me too easily. His next words answered that question.

  “I’m more than happy to follow you to your apartment and lend my assistance in any way I can.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, really,” I said with what I hoped looked like an unconcerned shrug. “But I’m fine. Besides, you probably have the master’s dinner to prepare.”

  I’d gotten used to Jerome’s easy chuckle during the afternoon we’d spent working together. It rippled across the store again.

  “The master rarely dines at home in the evenings.”

  I bet he doesn’t. Probably wining and dining half the town, especially the female half.

  Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Lucas Titan was one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen. He made tall, dark, and handsome his bitch. The man had to be at least six foot three, and had thick, black hair that always seemed perfectly styled without trying. Add his dark green eyes, wide shoulders, and narrow hips to the mix, and there weren’t many women who wouldn’t pause to watch him walk by. The diagonal scar slashing upward through his left eyebrow into his hairline added an undeniable hint of danger.

  My body lit up at thoughts of him, and I tamped the reaction down. Not going there. Again. It didn’t matter how hot the sex had been; it wasn’t worth my pride.

  I pulled my purse from beneath the counter. “Thank you again for your help today.” I was stalling on this last part and couldn’t believe I was actually going to say the words, but I needed to give thanks where it was due. “And thank Mr. Titan as well. Sending you was very thoughtful of him.”

  Jerome inclined his chin. “Your thanks is accepted and will be passed on to Mr. Titan.” He walked toward me. “Now, would you at least make an old man feel somewhat useful by taking my phone number in case you run across something troubling at your apartment again?”

  “Sure,” I replied. Didn’t mean I’d ever call it, but it was a sweet offer.

  “Good,” he said before rattling off the digits, and I punched them into my phone.

  We both left the shop, and I locked up behind us. My Jetta was parked at the curb and Jerome climbed into the Aston, which honestly didn’t look that unusual parked on the streets of the Quarter. This area was prime real estate, which translated to big money. Which was why I was going to need a hell of a lot of cash to buy Dirty Dog from Harriet.

  I waved good-bye as he drove off, and I got into my own car. A piece of paper sat on the seat. Picking it up, I saw the bold handwriting across the bottom. Paid in full. It was the invoice for my car repair.

  When I saw the total, I breathed a sigh of relief. Three hundred bucks. That I could handle. And I’d make sure Titan got a check from me ASAP. I wouldn’t let the man buy me a damn thing.

  As I drove home, I debated whether to mail it to his office or his house, and still hadn’t made up my mind when I pulled into the back alley parking spot for my apartment. After turning off the engine, I eyed the exterior stairs for a good five minutes, but didn’t exit the car.

  I decided to make a call before I got out. Quickly scrolling through my phone’s contacts, I found her number.

  “Hey, it’s Yve,” I said when Valentina picked up.

  “Hey, I know.”

  “You hear anything from your daddy’s PI? About Jay? Where he might be?”

  “Not yet. Daddy has him giving us daily updates, and this morning’s was a joke. Jay has disappeared. Daddy is pissed, and he actually hired me a bodyguard until they find him. The cops have increased patrols in my neighborhood too. I bet if you called in a concern, they’d do it for you too.”

  Right. Because the cops would run extra patrols in Tremé because one scared nobody of a woman had no proof of anything. Unlikely. I thought of the detective Titan had offered to call. I bet he could have made it happen, but then again, what couldn’t he make happen?

  Stop it, Yve, you’re sounding complimentary about the man.

  “Well, stay safe, honey. I’ll be fine,” I said.

  “I will, Yve. Watch your back. I don’t trust that bastard.”

  Before she could hang up, I asked, “Have you seen anything weird? Like signs that Jay might’ve been around you? In your house?”

  Valentina actually laughed. “This place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. No way in hell he could get in here. My dad made me move home the second we lost our bid to have his parole denied again.”

  So maybe I was the only crazy one here.

  “Good. Take care, Valentina.”

  “You too, Yve.”

  After I hung up, I took what I hoped was a deep, courageous breath and climbed out of my car. I tucked my hand into my purse and wrapped my palm around the grip of my revolver. I would never be defenseless again.

  I climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. As soon as I was inside, I withdrew the gun from my bag and held it tightly in both hands in front of me as I walked through every room of my place. I studied every surface, every item, looking for anything that might have been moved. I found nothing.

  Saving my bedroom for last, I stepped inside. Everything looked exactly the same, right down to the rumpled sheets on my unmade bed, something that had driven Jay absolutely insane and had earned me that first cracked rib. The drawers to my dresser were all still halfway open, a bad habit that during my marriage had earned me a broken finger, courtesy of being slammed in the drawer as he shut it to prove his point.

  The joints and bones in question twinged in horrific memory. But there was nothing else out of place that I could identify. I turned to walk out of the room, but froze three steps from the door.

  The mirrored tray where I
put my night creams and perfume had an empty space. Chanel No. 5 was gone.

  It had been Jay’s favorite scent, and when I’d first gotten away from him, I’d refused to wear it for that very reason. But it was also my favorite perfume, so I’d decided I wouldn’t let him steal that small piece of me. I’d bought a new bottle and wore the perfume whenever the hell I felt like it, but it was gone.

  I went to check the bathroom on the off chance I’d moved it. It wasn’t there, and I couldn’t remember moving it.

  Someone has been in my apartment.

  The same gut-twisting panic from yesterday stole over me, but this time I shoved it down. I wasn’t going to let that man run me out of my own house. I would not. This was my home, and if I left again, I’d be letting him win.

  Instead, I picked up my phone and Googled the number of a twenty-four-hour locksmith and a security company. Both agreed to be here within the hour.

  I would feel safe in my own home, goddamn it.

  I would not let him win.

  THE NEXT DAY, I WALKED out of the banker’s office and into the lobby with the knowledge that it didn’t matter whether I wore a designer power suit and kick-ass pumps, or ratty old jeans and a T-shirt. I was wearing the former, and the business loan officer had still told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way in hell they’d lend me what I needed to buy Dirty Dog.

  I doubted they’d loan me even ten dollars, and what I’d asked for was exponentially more. All my neatly calculated numbers and projections, and proof of past successful management and profit—none of it meant a damn thing because I wasn’t what the bank considered a “safe bet.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet the decision hit me with the force of one of Jay’s blows to the gut. I was barely conscious of my surroundings when an uncomfortably familiar deep voice called out my name.

  “Yve?”

  I looked up. The man seemed to show up everywhere lately. Was it some kind of cosmic joke?

  I nodded at Titan and continued toward the door, but he crossed the marble floor of the bank quickly, his big strides eating up the space between us.

  His hand on my arm stopped me. “What are you doing here?”

  I was still hovering embarrassingly on the edge of tears at the banker’s no-nonsense words informing me that neither this bank nor any other bank in the state of Louisiana would be willing to take a chance on me. The last thing I wanted to do was look Titan in the eye and have him see my despair.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and hastily pulled myself together before raising my chin to meet his green gaze. “Am I not allowed in a bank?” I asked, my tone sharp.

  His eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

  Could he really read me so easily? Didn’t matter; I wasn’t going to lay it all out. Especially not in the lobby of a bank when I was feeling like ghetto trash.

  “Mr. Titan, it’s a pleasure to see you,” the loan officer said from behind me. “We’re so happy you could join us for the board meeting.”

  Titan ignored him, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Irritation flooded me that the same loan officer who’d basically tossed me out of his office kowtowed to Titan. But then again, everyone did.

  “Looking for a loan?” Titan asked me.

  “None of your business. Now, I need to get to work.”

  Titan’s hand tightened the slightest fraction around my arm, enough to make me want to tug it away and run, but I didn’t.

  “Mr. Titan, I didn’t realize you were . . . uh . . . acquainted with Ms. Santos,” the banker said as he came closer.

  Titan released my arm and I started to step away, but found myself pulled flush against his side. “Yes, Yve is a friend of the family.”

  I’m a friend of the family? Since when?

  “I hope you were able to assist her with whatever she came in for.”

  The loan officer’s face paled a shade. “Well, you see . . . we weren’t able to . . . Ms. Santos isn’t exactly . . .”

  My eyes snapped to the banker’s. “Wow, and here I thought whatever we discussed in your office was confidential. I think I’ll be going now.” I tugged away from Titan again, but he held me fast.

  “That’s very disappointing to hear. As is the fact that you’d discuss her business with me.” The reprimand in Titan’s tone was sharp and cutting.

  “Um, I’m . . . I’m so sorry, sir. I—”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure your boss will be happy to send you through another round of confidentiality training, just to make sure you truly understand the concept.”

  “Yes, sir. Of course. I will notify him myself.”

  “You do that.”

  If I hadn’t been absolutely humiliated and livid, I might have found some humor in the conversation, but as it was, I just wanted to get the hell out of this godforsaken bank.

  I jerked out of Titan’s grip. “I have to get to work.”

  I didn’t wait for a response as I rushed to the door. But before my hand could land on the wide metal bar to push it open, a larger hand beat me to it.

  I shook my head. Whatever. Apparently Titan decided now was the appropriate time to employ manners. I couldn’t care less; I just wanted to be gone. I needed to lick my wounds in private and begin working on Plan B.

  He pushed open the second door for me, and I stepped out into the parking lot, heading for my car.

  “Yve, stop.”

  “Told you, I’m late. My temp is actually supposed to show up today. I don’t want to take the chance that I’m not there and she just leaves.”

  “Give me two goddamn seconds, and I’ll let you go.”

  The nerve of the man. “You don’t get to let me do anything, Titan.”

  I didn’t slow until I reached my car. I fumbled in my purse for my keys, and once I had them in hand, I jammed one into the keyhole in the door.

  “Your remote works now.”

  My head jerked toward Titan of its own accord. He stood, arms crossed, not even five feet away from me.

  “What?”

  “The remote, I had them fix it.”

  I hadn’t even tried it. I pushed the button and, sure enough, the lights flashed and the locks clicked open.

  “Getting the remote fixed on top of everything else would’ve put that repair bill over $300,” I said. Realization dawned, and I glared at him. “You had them change the bill, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I admit nothing.”

  I spun on my heel and took the two steps necessary to close the distance between us. As I shoved a hand against his chest, I tried not to notice how rock hard it was.

  He didn’t budge, but he did slap a palm over my hand to hold it in place. “That wasn’t nice, Yve.”

  “Fuck you, Titan. I’m not nice.”

  “Neither am I,” he growled. “Which is why I’m not going to apologize for doing this.”

  Before I could move—or even breathe—he ducked his head and his lips landed on mine. His hand wrapped around my hip and dragged me against him. I opened my mouth to protest, but he used the move to his advantage, and his tongue delved inside.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, the man could kiss. Suddenly I wasn’t shoving him away. Instead, my hand wrinkled his starched shirt as I grasped it to hold him close. A deep vibration emanated from his chest, and I felt it all the way to the marrow of my bones.

  I kissed him back, taking from him just as much as he took from me. It was a struggle for power, for dominance, and I was clueless as to who was winning. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a hazy voice screamed, Stop! No kissing! But I ignored it. I hadn’t been really kissed in so damn long. And it was safe to say I’d never been kissed like this.

  One moment his lips were pressed to mine, his tongue taunting me, and the next I was standing a full two feet away from him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” I demanded, unapologetically wiping the back of my hand over my lips as if to clean the ta
ste of him from me.

  Fat chance of that happening. I’d never forget what Titan tasted like. Spice and dominant man. Who knew sexy as hell had a flavor? Dairy Queen could make a killing.

  Damn it. Focus, Yve.

  “Because I wanted to.” His green eyes blazed with heat and anger, and I wasn’t even sure what else.

  What the hell did he have to be angry about? He was the one who kissed me. I should be the angry one here. And I was. It had been my boundary—and he’d crashed right through it.

  “Don’t do it again. Not unless you want my palm print on your face.”

  A smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “For a woman who didn’t want to be kissed, your participation was enthusiastic.”

  “Go to hell,” I snapped. Turning on my heel, I stomped back to my car, yanked open the door, and practically threw myself inside. When I tore out of the parking lot, Titan was still watching my every move.

  He was a dick.

  But a dick who could kiss.

  WELL, THAT WAS A FIRST.

  What was it about Yve Santos that made me absolutely insane? The challenge? Her sassy mouth? The way she practically vibrated with disdain for me?

  God, I must have been some serious kind of twisted because whatever it was, I wanted more of it.

  I waited outside a few minutes, to let my body calm the hell down, before I went back into the bank for the board meeting. James Richards, the loan officer I’d taken to task in front of Yve, scurried up to me.

  “Mr. Titan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that Ms. Santos was a friend of yours.”

  “What was she here for?” I asked.

  His eyes widened with shock. “But, sir, you said that I shouldn’t—”

  “Answer the damn question if you want to keep your job,” I ordered.

  “Well, she wanted a loan to buy the business she currently manages. I believe it’s called Dirty . . . something.”

  “Dirty Dog.”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  “And you turned her down.” It wasn’t a surprise. The bank turned down a high percentage of applications, especially for risky small businesses.

  “Yes, sir.”