Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(39)

The person I most wanted to tell to f*ck off was my father, and it was his voice. A voice I’d only heard in my head for years.

I studied the four politicians, wondering if they’d be able to give me any realistic help at all. If they weren’t willing to push the bill to the floor for a vote and make sure the vote went in my favor, what good were they?

But what if there was a chance?

“Okay, gentlemen,” I started, using the term loosely. “This is what I need.”





DEEP BREATH IN; DEEP BREATH out.

Scan right. Scan left.

Repeat.

I made the circuit of all of the rooms in my apartment for the ninth time, but saw nothing out of place. Nothing moved. Nothing missing.

Maybe the new locks and alarm system had done the trick. It seemed too easy, though, didn’t it?

“Okay,” I said to the empty room. “I guess I’ll just go to bed then.”

I headed into the bathroom to wash my face. My makeup had to be almost all gone, courtesy of the dunking I’d taken in Titan’s pool. Asshole.

I stopped in front of the mirror and froze. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” I murmured. I looked like the dried version of a drowned rat. Lovely. It was a miracle Ginny hadn’t demanded an explanation for my appearance, which was more proof of how distressed she’d been. A shower was definitely in order, or even better, a bath.

I eyed the small tub-shower combination in my bathroom and wished for the giant claw-foot tub in the guest room of Titan’s house.

Stop thinking about him, I ordered myself.

After closing the drain, I turned on the water as hot as it would go and watched for a few moments as the tub filled inch by inch. Deciding it had filled enough at three inches, I stripped and climbed in. I let the heat and steam surround me as the water continued to rise.

Leaning my head back, I tried to think peaceful thoughts, and not about the nightmares that Ginny’s warnings had brought back to me. But every time I tried to push my mind to something pleasant, it landed on the black-haired, green-eyed man I wanted to forget.

But did I truly want to forget that night in the kitchen and how he’d pushed me, challenged me, and finally taken me? Jesus.

I’d never come so hard in my entire life. And I might never come so hard again.

Unless you have another fling with Titan, the voice in my head offered.

No. That wasn’t happening again. Because he wanted an arrangement.

But what if I told him to shove his arrangement where the sun didn’t shine and made a counteroffer of my own? I could be the one to use him.

I pictured Titan’s mouth curling up into a smirk as I told him that I wanted to compensate him for the use of his body. Hell, screw compensation. The man was richer than Midas, so what if I just told him that I wanted to use his body freely, whenever the whim struck me. I wanted to be able to say when and where, and for him to make it happen.

Would he be shocked?

Oh God, but the idea of Titan speechless would be worth the potential humiliation if he laughed in my face. The more I thought about the plan, the more I liked it. It was ballsy, cocky, and slightly crazy—which made it seem perfect for when dealing with Titan.

“Why the hell not?” I asked the empty bathroom. “Why not turn the tables a little?”

Determination filling me, I stood, shaking off the water as I grabbed a towel. But one glance in the direction of the steam-clouded mirror made me freeze. A scream ripped loose from my lungs.

I’m watching you.

The words were written in big block letters across the glass, and would have been completely invisible if I hadn’t let the bathroom fill with steam.

Stark terror ripped through me.

He’d been here. Ginny was right. Jay was still fixated on me, and I wasn’t safe.

Fight or flight kicked in harder than ever before. Run! all my instincts screamed. And yet here I stood in the middle of the bathroom, clutching a towel to my dripping body as I forced my brain to start working again.

He wasn’t here, wasn’t in my apartment. The locks had been changed, and the alarm was set. But he’d been here before; I’d felt it in my gut, and I’d been right.

With shaking hands, I wrapped the towel around me. I will not let him win. The choice stood before me—fight or flight—but I had nowhere to run. I could count on myself, and that was it.

So I guess fight it was.

I dried myself slowly and methodically, trying to pretend my hands weren’t shaking as I told myself the feeling that had settled over me wasn’t desperation, but calmness. A killing calm, if need be. I could do this. I could totally do this.

I spent the night huddled in the corner of my sitting room, one hand on the remote flipping through late-night infomercials, and the other hand within easy reach of my revolver.

It was a long, sleepless night.





THE NEXT MORNING, I WAS in no mood to be messed with, mostly because an Yve who hadn’t slept was not an Yve who should be facing the world without a flashing neon warning sign. Any other day, I would have walked to work, but I didn’t want to be caught out in the open for that long. I wasn’t stupid; I wasn’t going to make myself any bigger of a target than I needed to be. But I swore I could feel eyes on me as I parked in the alley behind the store and let myself in.

Good Lord, what I wouldn’t pay to have Levi back already. His presence in the shop, while not any deterrent to danger, would at least give me some comfort, and I’d take what I could get right now.