Beneath These Scars

by Meghan March

  I TOSSED AND TURNED FOR hours. This time it wasn’t fear of Jay or the bogeyman that kept me up. No. It was the look on Titan’s face when he’d thrown his shirt at me and told me to find my own way out.

  I’d watched from the hallway while he’d gone lap after lap like a man possessed. I had more sense than to walk into a lion’s den, and that was exactly what the pool room had resembled. I had one skill honed above all others—self-preservation—and every instinct had told me approaching him was not in my best interest. Whatever he was trying to swim an ocean’s length to be free of, it was bigger than what had happened between us.

  I didn’t need that kind of baggage in my life. I didn’t need someone else’s problems when I could barely cope with my own. Like my long-lost ex-husband who might or might not be out to get me.

  I rolled over again and stared at the clock.

  Five a.m. It was a decent hour of the morning. Late enough that I could get up without having to admit that I’d been chased from my bed by bad dreams and monsters. So I did. And that was when I smelled it.

  Gas.

  What the hell?

  Instinct borne of nothing more than that self-preservation I prized so dearly sent me into action. I threw on jeans and a shirt and shoved my feet into flip-flops, then grabbed my purse off the table and ran out the door. I dialed my cell phone as I headed toward my parking spot.

  But I didn’t make it to the alley on two feet. No, I made it there on my hands and knees as the force of the building behind me exploding heaved me to the ground.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I chanted over and over again. I looked over my shoulder and brilliant orange—a color I’d never in a million years forget—blazed high into the gray sky.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  I tried to push myself to my feet, but my arms shook too badly, so I settled for rolling over onto my ass. I wasn’t the only person who lived in that building. Mrs. Jones, the elderly woman downstairs, and Astrid Thomas, a middle-aged postal worker, were also still inside.

  Tears burned down my face as I pushed myself to my feet and ran toward the flames, but arms caught me before I made it two steps.

  “Whoa, girl. You need to stay the hell back. Fire department is coming.”

  It was a man’s voice in my ear, and I didn’t know who he was and didn’t care. I babbled incoherently about the other women, and he just held me against his chest and rocked me until sirens pierced the morning air.

  It didn’t dawn on me that I was homeless and owned nothing until the firemen sat me down with volunteers from the Red Cross. My brain hadn’t made it that far. I was still seeing the flames and feeling the heat on my back. I was too busy being grateful that I was alive.

  “Do you have somewhere you can go, dear?” the volunteer asked. “If you don’t, that’s fine. We can put you up for three nights at a motel here in town. We’ll also help you get started on replacing some things by giving you a debit card with some money on it.”

  “I’ve got some money.”

  The kind woman, Donna, patted my hand. “I know, dear, but it’s going to go much faster than you think, and this isn’t much anyway. We wish it could be more, but a couple hundred dollars is all we’re able to allot you because you’re single.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t need it.”

  “Just take it.”

  I was too exhausted to argue with her. A sleepless night plus the physical, mental, and emotional trauma of the morning had taken its toll.

  I just focused on the positive side—I wasn’t dead and no one else was either. Numb, I nodded as I learned that Mrs. Jones was in Florida visiting her sister. She’d left four days ago and I hadn’t noticed. Astrid had quit the postal service and taken a job working third shift at a factory. Again, I hadn’t noticed. But both those things had saved their lives. Only dumb luck and the grace of God had saved mine.

  Donna and her husband—the volunteer team assigned to me—went through the whole spiel about if there was anything salvageable, there were places that specialized in items damaged by smoke, and if I had medications or glasses that had been lost in the fire, a Red Cross nurse would help me get them replaced.

  But other than three nights at a motel and the debit card—both of which were more than I expected—I was basically on my own. They gave me a list of social welfare agencies in the parish that could offer assistance, but I wasn’t going to be the girl living off taxpayers and the charity of others when I could find a way to provide for myself. My mama had always been so proud that our family line had never been the welfare kind. I wasn’t sure when she decided being a mistress was more respectable, but it was certainly an older profession.

  As I was finishing with the Red Cross, I realized I had no idea what the hell I was going to do. My car was still in the shop, I owned nothing but the contents of my purse and the clothes on my back, and all I wanted was a shower and not to cry in front of these perfect strangers. I’d been holding it in ever since the man in the alley had set me aside to answer the questions of one of the fireman. Based on my answers, it seemed that either arson or an accidental gas leak was the most likely culprit.

  The thought of arson brought my mind right back to Jay and my blood ran cold.

  Did he want me dead? Probably. But this wasn’t his MO.

  Jay would prefer to watch the life drain out of me with his own two eyes rather than let a fire do it for him. He’d want to make me hurt. To make me suffer. I knew that much about him, and I doubted he’d found Jesus in prison.

  I stepped out of the church where the volunteers had brought me—it seemed that this was standard procedure because it was too distracting to answer all of their questions while sitting in view of the remains of what used to be your home—and I looked both directions down the street. I had forty-seven dollars in my wallet, my credit cards, and the Red Cross debit card that I could use once they activated it in a few hours. It wasn’t the money that scared me right now, although they were surely right. It was going to be expensive to replace everything I had. Thank the Lord for renter’s insurance.

  I was only a block from a CVS and a twenty-four-hour gym, where I was pretty sure I knew the manager. Either way, after hearing about my hellish morning, I couldn’t believe someone would refuse to let me use a shower.

  After checking out of CVS with the basics, I pulled my phone from my purse. It was off. I turned it on to find I had a dozen missed calls from Lucas Titan, ten from Jerome, another six from Elle, and four from Charlie.

  I swallowed. Apparently everyone had heard about the fire. The calls that surprised me the most were those from Titan’s household. Why did he bother? He’d thrown me out last night. Surely that had been a period on the end of whatever the hell we’d been doing, even if I still wasn’t exactly sure what had made him react the way he had other than his general asshole tendencies. But last night it had seemed like more. I’d jabbed one of his buttons and he’d reacted.

  So the question was now, who did I call first? I owed them all a call, but I was too damn exhausted to tell this story over and over again. And especially to admit that I thought maybe my newly paroled ex-husband might have just tried to kill me. Fun times.

  I stared at my phone, my brain working in sluggish circles, until the screen came to life again.

  Jerome. What the hell?

  I picked up the call. “Hello?”

  “Oh, thank God, dear, we’ve been worried sick about you ever since Detective Hennessy called to tell us about your house, but he couldn’t tell us where you were.”

  Hennessy. The man seemed to pop up everywhere. Did NOLA’s finest not have enough to do other than spread the word about my house burning down?

  “I’m okay, Jerome. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I wasn’t about to explain that I was physically, mentally and emotionally drained, and it wasn’t even ten a.m. but I felt like I could sleep for a week. Except I’d probably be sleeping with one eye
open because who knew what would happen to the next place I slept.

  Would I ever sleep easy again? Maybe in a decade.

  “Okay. Good. Very good. I need to hang up now, because I need to tell Mr. Titan that you’re answering your phone. And please, if you would, answer his call.”

  “Wha—”

  “’Bye, dear.” And Jerome hung up.

  Within twenty seconds, it lit up again with Titan’s name and number. Did I really want to answer it?

  My brain was moving too slowly to execute sophisticated reasoning right now. Screw it. I answered.

  “Hey.”

  “Where the hell are you?” Titan demanded.

  “I’m about to grab a shower, not that it’s any of your business.” Apparently I still had some sass left in me. It hadn’t been completely knocked out by the blast.

  “Tell me where you are, and don’t move. I’m coming to get you.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Don’t push me.”

  I told him where I was. I might have had sass, but I didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, his shower was nicer than the gym’s. I still needed clothes, though. I had some extra stock at Dirty Dog that was in my size that I could buy, but that wouldn’t hold me for long. It seemed so stupid, but now that I knew there was no loss of life, it seemed less ridiculous to mourn the loss of my stuff. Mostly vintage, one of a kind, and irreplaceable.

  I swallowed back a lump in my throat.

  Well, if buying Dirty Dog didn’t work out, I’d still be able to put my unique skills to work rebuilding my wardrobe. But if I didn’t have Dirty Dog and I had to work at some other job, would I have to dress . . . less like me? The thought horrified me like no other. It was crazy that something so small and inconsequential could set me off, but tears spilled over my lids as a devastating sense of loss swamped me. I sat on the stoop next to CVS as I clutched my purse and let them fall.

  Just a few minutes of self-pity, and I’d pick myself up and move on.

  I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and the tears fell faster and harder. It’s all gone. My home. My place. My stuff.

  It’s just stuff, Yve. And your home didn’t even feel safe anymore. My inner, more logical self tried to reason this one out, but I wasn’t exactly consolable, because I wasn’t ready for logic. I just wanted to cry.

  The low purr of the Aston slowed by the curb much too quickly and my pity party hadn’t yet concluded. I swiped the back of my hands across my cheeks, wondering how much of a mess I looked. No makeup, bed head, tear-stained face, hadn’t yet showered after an explosion had destroyed my house.

  Screw it. I deserved a pass today.

  And I would rip his head off and feed it to him if he was a jerk. I didn’t think I could handle it right now. I didn’t have my walls up, and armorless was no way to go into battle with Titan.

  Based on our past encounters—especially last night—I wondered if he’d just tell me to get in. But he didn’t. I heard the car door open, and I looked up in time to see him crouching in front of me.

  “Rough morning?”

  I tried to laugh, I really did, but instead I burst into tears again.

  “Shit.”

  He didn’t say anything else, just lifted me off the stoop and into his arms before carrying me to the car. He set me inside, secured my seat belt, and closed the door.

  I was swiping my tears away for what I hoped would be the final time when he climbed into the driver’s seat and shifted into gear. He still didn’t speak as he drove out of the neighborhood near what used to be my house, and headed back to the other side of town. When we reached his home, he still said nothing as he helped me out of the car, into the house, and to the guest bathroom.

  I sat on the edge of the tub and gripped my purse and the CVS bag. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes. Too raw and vulnerable.

  “You want me to start the water for you?” His words weren’t harsh and they weren’t soft. They were just . . . normal. As if I hadn’t just bawled all over the front seat of his car.

  “I’m fine.”

  From beneath my lids I saw him reach out. He pulled my purse and the bag from my grip and set them on the floor. A hank of my hair fell forward over my face, and he tucked it behind my ear before backing away and leaning against the door frame.

  “You’re not fine. But you will be.” He grabbed the door’s handle and pulled it closed behind him.

  I hadn’t known what to expect from him, but it wasn’t this. Especially not after last night.

  I glanced from the tub to the shower and decided that a shower was better. I didn’t want to soak in the grime I’d accumulated from being flung to the ground behind my apartment.

  So I turned on the shower and waited for steam to fill the enclosure before stripping off my clothes and stepping inside. I pressed both palms to the cold tile and dropped my head, allowing the hot water to pour over me.

  They started as sniffles. Little hiccups and catches of my breath. And within moments, they transitioned to full-on, body-racking sobs.

  I could have died.

  I lowered one hand from the wall and covered my mouth. But it seemed the damage was already done. The bathroom door opened and footfalls stopped at the shower door. I didn’t look up, just blinked furiously, trying to stem the flood of tears.

  The glass door opened.

  I stood straighter, swiping at the tears as Titan stepped inside. Naked.

  “What are you doing?” I murmured, my voice rough from the sobs.

  He caught one of my wrists in each hand, lowering my hands from my face.

  “Holding you,” he replied, and pulled me into his arms. “So you can break and not worry about falling apart. Just for today, Yve, let me hold you together.”

  His words pierced the shield I was desperately trying to throw up between us. How long had it been since someone shouldered my burden? How long since I’d let myself just break?

  The sniffles started again, and the tears welled up and spilled over my lids onto Titan’s solid shoulder.

  Just for today.

  I let myself break.

  And he held me, lowering us both to the floor and pulling me into his lap, until I’d cried all my tears.

  LUCAS CARRIED ME FROM THE shower to the bed in the guest room after toweling us both dry. He said nothing as he laid me on the soft sheets. He followed me down, wrapping his big body around mine.

  Cocooned in the strength and warmth of Lucas Titan, my solid walls shook and crumbled further.

  Everything’s gone.

  I could’ve died.

  The two thoughts played on shuffle in my brain. No more tears fell, but my body still shuddered.

  Lucas’s arms tightened around me. “Stop thinking about it.”

  I huffed out a breath. “That’s impossible.”

  Something pressed against my hair, and if it were anyone but Lucas wrapped around me, I might have thought he’d kissed my head.

  “Nothing’s impossible.”

  “Maybe not for you,” I said, sucking in a breath as warm, full lips touched my shoulder.

  “For you either. Not anymore.”

  I snuggled back into him, pausing only a moment when I felt his erection against my ass.

  That’s one way to forget.

  “Kiss me again,” I said, turning my face toward his. “Make me forget.”

  Lucas wasted no time capturing my lips and taking my mouth. Flares of heat shot through me, pooling between my legs with every moment of the deep, drugging kiss.

  Until he pulled away and rolled off the bed.

  I reached out and grabbed his hand. “Don’t go.”

  His eyes snapped to mine. “I wasn’t leaving.”

  “Then what—?” I let the question trail off.

  “Condom.”

  “Oh.” I breathed out a sigh. “Yeah.”

  My attention followed Lucas’s sculpted ass to the door between the bedrooms, the one that had
been locked from my side. He unbolted it and pulled the door open. He was gone only a moment, but I barely noticed as I fixated on that open door. It was as if I’d just discovered a crack in the wall between us.

  Lucas returned before I could think on it anymore. He tossed the condom to the bed before lowering himself over me and finding my mouth again.

  For the first time, it wasn’t pure lust charging between our bodies like lightning strikes. The passion and the hunger were there, but they were softened by something else. Something I hadn’t expected to find in bed with Lucas.

  My thoughts fell away as his hand skimmed up my body to cup my breast and toy with the nipple. Heat once against pooled between my legs, and I lifted my hips to press against him.

  I needed him. Inside me. Now.

  I opened my mouth to say something—anything—that would get me what I craved, but Lucas was ahead of me. His lips dragged down my chest, down the slope of my breast to catch my nipple and tug before he knelt and grabbed the condom. With quick, efficient movements, he ripped open the package and rolled the condom on before lowering a knee between my legs and pressing my thighs apart.

  His fingers found my center, slipped through my slickness, and plunged inside. Those clever fingers—and thumb—brought me to the edge before his other knee slid between my legs and he positioned himself above me, his cock nudging against my entrance.

  Lucas’s eyes met mine as he slowly, inch by delicious inch, slid inside.

  He consumed me. With every thrust and retreat, he unraveled me. My mind was hazy, recognizing nothing but the pleasure ripping through my body as his fingers found my clit.

  “I’m—” I couldn’t even get the words out before the coils holding me together snapped and my orgasm broke free.

  Lucas kept his steady rhythm, using his cock and fingers, until I couldn’t take it anymore. His groan broke the silence of the room as he emptied himself inside me. Falling to his forearms above me, he breathed into my ear.

  “Nothing is impossible, my gorgeous girl.”

  His meaning hit me, and I couldn’t raise the energy to respond. Drunk with the aftermath of my orgasm, I lay there, my mind blank for a few minutes longer.