Behind These Scars

by Lilah Grey

  My head rocks to the side as he kisses my jawline.

  He rips at my shirt as his mouth moves down my neck and across my collarbone.

  “Wait,” I pant, gripping a fistful of his hair.

  His eyes narrow on me, and for a moment, I regret interrupting.

  I turn my head and look at the open spot on the kitchen floor. The spot where Margaret lay, dead, not long ago.

  He follows my gaze and understands that this isn’t exactly the most ideal setting.

  “Your room or mine?” he says, grinning.

  “Yours.”

  I don’t even have to think about it. I’d always fantasized being dragged into his room like all the other girls. I wanted to be the one screaming his name this time. I wasn’t about to let that chance slip away.

  Luke slides off of me, grabbing both my hands and pulling me to my feet. Seconds later, I find myself hanging off his shoulder, caveman style, as he marches me up the stairs.

  “A little impatient, aren’t we?” I laugh, bouncing around with every step.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” His tone is gruff, impatient.

  It would’ve knocked me off my feet if I wasn’t already suspended off the ground.

  He’s been waiting for this? No. It’s all wrong. I’ve been waiting for this. I’ve been waiting for it for as long as I’ve known Luke.

  I remember having a mini meltdown when I saw him for the first time. Even when we were young, he was always strikingly handsome, a fact he was well aware of. It’s hard not to get cocky when girls lined up around the block for a chance to be with him. I was one of them.

  He tosses me onto his bed, turns on his heels, and heads back out the door.

  “What are you—”

  “If you’re not naked and on all fours by the time I get back…”

  The rest of his sentence is lost as he leaves the room. Adrenaline spikes in my chest as I sit on the bed, more than a little dazed. Was this really happening?

  I snap my rubber band against my wrist. The sting tells me it isn’t a dream, but I still can’t believe it.

  I pull off my shirt and begin to unbutton my shorts, but I pause for a moment. I’m a little curious about what Luke might have in store for me if I didn’t follow his request.

  “Don’t test me,” Luke calls to me from down the hallway.

  Don’t tempt me, I nearly reply.

  A few seconds later I'm wriggling out of my shorts, and just as my bra falls to the floor, Luke reappears, condom in hand.

  He’s shirtless. He’s pantless. And dear Lord, I’m breathless.

  I know I’m in trouble as I take in his rippling muscles. His body is perfection.

  Goosebumps erupt across my body as his dark gaze drags across my skin.

  “What did I tell you?”

  “To strip and—”

  “Naked and on all fours.”

  “And my punishment?”

  A smirk flickers on his lips before he pounces. I'm face-down on the bed before my mind even registers it happening. The thin elastic band of my underwear snaps as he tears it off. I feel the warmth of his cock on my ass as he pushes himself onto me. He groans as I grind against him. I peer over my shoulder and watch the strained expression on his face, relishing in it.

  His eyes shut as his head tips back. “Fuck,” he says, letting out an airy sigh as his hands take hold of my hips. A burst of pain rushes through me as he smacks my ass, but it disappears quickly, leaving a delicious tingle in its wake.

  “Again,” I moan, gripping the comforter with both of my hands.

  He collects my hair in a ponytail. My back arches as he tugs me backward.

  “You don’t make the rules,” he growls in my ear.

  I bite down on my lip. A chill dances along my spine. I like it. I like him gripping, pulling, and tugging at me, keeping me under his control. I’m his to control.

  He lets go of me, and I fall forward onto the bed again.

  His hands rove along my back, and I spread my legs and continue to rub myself against his cock. It presses against my center as he leans in and kisses my shoulder blade, continuing down my back and along my spine.

  I yelp as he smacks my ass again, glaring at him over my shoulder. He's not looking at me; his eyes are set on something else. His head dips lower, and I feel his tongue against my pussy.

  I moan into the bed as his thumb rubs my swollen clit.

  “Like that,” I breathe into the sheets.

  It’s almost too much to bear, but with Luke’s hands pinning me down, I couldn’t get away even if I tried.

  The sheets continue to catch my moans as I writhe in blissful agony, my orgasm beginning to well inside me. Luke pulls away seconds later, and I nearly lose it. But when I turn around, I see him tearing the condom wrapper as he slides out of his boxer briefs.

  He smirks at me as I watch him roll it down the length of his cock.

  “All fours,” he orders.

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I dig my knees into the bed as I reposition myself, back arched, ass in the air, waiting.

  And waiting…

  And…

  I glance over my shoulder at Luke. He's staring at my ass, eyebrows raised, mouth hanging open.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen a view this beautiful since the Grand—”

  “If you even think about comparing my ass to the Grand Canyon, you can—oh, fuck.”

  Luke slides the head of his cock against my sex, up and down between my folds. A moment later, a deep, guttural moan escapes my lips as my body shudders. My head lolls to the side, and I bite down on my arm.

  “You’re so wet,” he growls.

  “Your fault,” I murmur, glancing at the Grecian statue behind me; he’d fit in perfectly at a museum.

  Luke groans. “Your ass is driving me wild, Libby,” he says, smacking it again.

  I relish the flash of pain, the way it gives way to a delicious tingling sensation that spreads throughout my body. It reminds me of the sting of my rubber band, but so, so much better. I’d kiss that rubber band goodbye if it meant I could get this treatment from Luke daily.

  Maybe I can tell him it’s a prescription. See! I need it! It’s right here on this doctor’s note… I’m not lying, I swear…

  I shutter my eyes as Luke presses the head of his cock against my opening, sliding it in after a few seconds of resistance. My whole body shudders as I feel him inside me. I push against him, urging him on as he grabs my hips, fingers digging into my skin.

  I've never felt anything like this before. I've never been this turned on before. I'm ruined. Luke's ruined me. No one compares him, and there's no going back after this.

  But the truth is, I don’t want to go back to anything else; I want Luke more than anything else.

  I moan into the sheets, enjoying every second as Luke brings me closer and closer to the edge of release. I can feel it building. It’s been building the moment his lips met mine.

  Another smack, a deeper sting.

  “Harder,” I murmur as I grab fistfuls of soft fabric. “Don’t stop.”

  “I’m not stopping,” Luke growls. “Not until my handprint is branded on your ass.”

  I nip at my arm. I like that, Luke marking me, claiming me as his. Raw and red…

  A tingling sensation spreads across my skin as his hands slide up my arched back. They wrap around my side, sliding back down to my waist moments later.

  I can feel my chest and neck and cheeks flush as my breathing grows shallow.

  Luke presses his fingers against my ass, squeezing, groping, hungry. “Fuck, Libby, you feel so good.”

  And then I’m upright on my knees as Luke grabs my arms, pulling me flat against his firm torso. He brushes my hair to one side.

  “You’re mine,” he murmurs into my neck, his breath tickling my skin. “Say it,” he demands.

  I can hardly breathe let alone speak, but I manage an airy, “I’m yours.”

  He
pulls away, spinning me around and forcing me onto my back. My head spins as he grabs the back of my knees and forces them to my chest, his tongue circling my clit seconds later.

  “Oh, God,” I pant as I grip onto Luke’s hair, shuddering against him.

  I’m on the edge, wavering, waiting for Luke to give me release. It aches and burns deep inside me, growing as tongue slide across my wetness, his lips pressing against my clit, sucking.

  “I’m—I’m about to—”

  He pulls away and then slides his cock inside me.

  My breath runs ragged as I focus on the orgasm welling inside me.

  My eyes roll back and my vision blurs, but Luke grips my hair, pulling me back to him.

  “Look at me,” he growls. “I want to see you come. I want to see it in your eyes.”

  Deeper and deeper, harder and harder. Luke continues his delicious rhythm until, finally, I feel the intense euphoria of my orgasm wash over me. I stare into Luke’s eyes, surrendering myself completely to him.

  Seconds later, I feel his cock pulse inside me.

  “Fuck, Libby,” he moans as his body shudders.

  He falls to the side, panting hard as I curl up against him, my palm pressed flat against his firm chest. We stay silent for a while, our chests rising and falling in unison. I don't know what to think. I'd never felt anything like that before.

  I close my eyes, relishing the afterglow as Luke strokes my hair gently.

  “I want you to live with me,” he says, finally breaking the silence.

  Its abruptness catches me off guard, and I wonder if I'd fallen asleep and this was my mind playing tricks on me.

  “I can get you a job in graphic design with my company. Or not,” he adds quickly. “You can do whatever you want. I just want to help you get back on your feet.”

  I don’t respond. Not because I’m uninterested, but because I was fighting the urge to leap from the bed and dance around.

  “I can find you a place, too,” Luke adds, a tinge of nerves lining his tone. “Whatever you want.”

  I look up at Luke as he waits for my response. He’s unsure of himself. That’s a first. I could put him out of his misery, but…

  “Can I think about it?”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  I nestle back into his chest, breathing in his scent as I trace the ridges of his abs with my fingertips.

  “I thought about it,” I murmur into his chest, unable to hold it in any longer.

  “Yeah?” he says, wrapping a tendril of my hair around his finger.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  I nod as my smile widens. “Okay.”

  Luke rubs my shoulder as my body prickles with elation. For the first time in my life, everything will be okay. I close my eyes and settle into sleep.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep for, but I’m woken up by a loud pounding from downstairs.

  Luke jerks awake and rushes to find his pants.

  “Stay here,” he says, looking back at me as I sit up, clutching the covers against my body.

  He gets dressed and strides out of the bedroom, the entire house shaking as he runs down the stairs.

  All the while I’m wondering who knows we’re here and why they’re pounding on the door this late at night.

  21

  Libby

  “Howdy, Officers,” Luke lilts as he opens the front door. “What seems to be the problem?”

  My stomach drops as dread covers me like a wet blanket. How the hell did they know Luke was here? He wasn’t even driving his own car. There was no way…

  But then I remember what happened earlier with Wade. Would he really go to the police?

  I pull the sheets around me and rush toward the door, poking my head into the hallway so that I could hear better.

  I recognize Damian’s deep voice immediately.

  “Can’t seem to keep that temper of yours under control, can you?”

  There’s no response from Luke.

  “Tight-lipped, too? That’s a first. No matter.”

  I hear the clink of metal, followed by a ratcheting noise as handcuffs are placed on Luke’s wrists.

  “You’re under arrest for the assault of Wade McKenna, and for the suspected murder of Margaret Masters. You have the right to…”

  My mind blanks as Damian recites the Miranda rights. It's happening.

  What if I'm wrong? What if there is substantial evidence on Luke? Something that isn't circumstantial.

  I can feel the corners of my eyes begin to tear as a lump forms in my throat.

  I don’t want to believe it; I can’t believe it.

  The floor rattles as the front door shuts. I crawl to the window, sheets still wrapped around me, and watch as Luke is guided into the back of a squad car. Damian salutes another officer before hopping into the front seat. The three cruisers parked on the street drive off, and I can’t help but feel that this is the last time I’ll see Luke outside of a jail cell.

  I can't breathe. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to fill my lungs with air, and within a few moments, I'm on the ground, still gasping as my head swirls with vertigo.

  I bunch my hands into fists, opening and closing them as I force myself to take slower breaths. Eventually, my nerves calm and I can breathe somewhat normally again, but I can’t get rid of the overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

  It reminds me of Margaret, when I had nowhere to go, nothing to protect me against her tirades. The more I think about it, the more the helplessness begins to subside, giving way to anger.

  I’m tired of being helpless. I’m tired of not being in control. I’m tired… of everything.

  I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m not going to figure it out feeling sorry for myself, sprawled out the floor in Luke’s room.

  I get up, collect my clothes, and get dressed. As I'm wriggling into my shorts, I hear a phone ring downstairs. I run down the stairs and find it, the screen still flashing, under the mess the first aid kit made when Luke cleared the kitchen table. Right before…

  Brief glimpses of Luke flash in my mind: his body, the way my body reacted to his touch…

  I shake them out of my head and refocus my attention back on the phone. I don't have time. The phone goes silent as I pick it up, but I can see a number of text messages, missed calls, and voicemails from Olivia. She’d know what to do. So long as she wasn’t too groggy from the sleeping pill…

  I slide my finger across the screen to unlock the phone, but I’m met with a lock screen.

  Ugh…

  I have no idea what Luke’s passcode could be. My knuckles turn white as I grip the phone. I stare at the black screen for a moment, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room. I’m not going to give up without at least trying out a few combinations.

  I try the first four-digit combinations that come to mind: his name, his birthday, our address. None of them work. I start trying random numbers and patterns, but still nothing.

  I slouch into a chair and set the phone on the table. Maybe Olivia would call again. Then I wouldn’t need the code at all. I sigh; there’s that helpless feeling again.

  I sit in the kitchen for what seems like hours, but after checking the time on the phone, it had only been a couple of minutes. No call from Olivia. She'd been calling for the past hour or so, but the minute I try to reach her, she goes silent. Go figure.

  I grab the phone again and hold it in front of me. I look down at it with hard eyes. Maybe if I stare at it long enough, it will get self-conscious and give me what I want. It works for Luke…

  I try my luck again.

  After a few more failed attempts, I try one last combination. The lock screen disappears, the home screen appearing in its place. I'm less baffled that the winning combination was my birthday than I am at the photo hidden behind all the icons. I flip to the last screen to see more of the photo.

  It’s a picture of Luke and me. We’re at the beach. Galveston. It ma
y not be the prettiest beach, but it’s clear from the smiles on both of our sun-kissed faces that we didn’t care. I remember that trip. It was one of the few times I was happy. It helped that Margaret wasn’t there.

  It's the same day that Luke took the photograph of me and my dad, the one that's tucked away in my purse. It also happened to be the day I'd received my worst sunburn. Every movement was painful, and even lukewarm water felt like acid against my skin. But you can't tell that from the photograph. I loved every minute of that day, even the painful hours I spent in bed before I finally fell asleep.

  I’ve been staring at the phone for so long, daydreaming, that when I finally come back, the screen’s already turned black. I input my birthday again, taking one last look at the photograph before calling Olivia.

  It hardly rings more than once before she picks up.

  “What the hell is going on, Luke? Cops are everywhere. They have a search warrant, and they're tearing your place apart. They… what the fuck?!”

  I can’t get a word in edgewise; there’s a constant stream of questions and statements but no chance for me to respond or even let her know that I’m not Luke. I don’t know how she has that much air in her lungs.

  “I feel hungover, and I have no clue—”

  “Olivia?”

  “—where Libby is. And where the fuck have you—”

  “Olivia?” I say a bit louder.

  “— I’ve been calling you, texting you, but you—”

  “Shut up! Olivia! Stop. Talking. NOW!”

  All I hear is Olivia’s breath crackling in my ear.

  “Libby?”

  I take a breath. “Yes, it’s Libby.”

  “Where are you? Are you okay? Is Luke there?”

  “I’m fine. I’m at home now. And Luke—” I pause, biting my bottom lip for a moment. “The cops took him away not long ago. He attacked someone, Olivia. And they think he killed his mother. I don’t know what to do.”

  My shoulders slump as I wait for her response. In the meantime, all I hear is her steady breaths. Finally, she responds.

  “Stay where you are. I'll come get you and figure the rest of this out. I've already called his lawyer, and he's on his way.” Olivia pauses for a beat. “Remind me never to drink chamomile tea again. That stuff knocked me off my feet. It wasn't until a policeman began shaking me that I realized Luke's apartment was being raided.”