Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(57)

“Yve, just tell me what the hell is going on.”

I decided to relent, to let him in. As much as I could, anyway.

“I have an ex. He’s not my biggest fan,” I finally admitted. Mentally I acknowledged that this was the understatement of the century.

“And he’s the one you’re afraid of?”

My knee-jerk reaction was to say that I wasn’t afraid, but I couldn’t conjure the words. They were a lie. An outright lie. My muscles tensed, readying me to run every time I thought about Jay being outside the cage where he belonged. But I couldn’t admit that; I didn’t want to see pity on Lucas’s face. That would be humiliating.

So I went for vague. “It didn’t end well and he’s been gone a while, and now I think he might be back. I don’t know for sure where he is, but better people than me have tried to track him down, and can’t.” Lucas opened his mouth, but I continued quickly. “I’m not going to tell you his name, and you’re not going to find him for me.”

A low noise—it could easily be called a growl—rumbled from him. “Why not?” Each word was enunciated clearly.

Because I don’t want to change the way you look at me, I thought. Instead, I said, “Because I want my past to stay in my past. And honestly, that explosion wasn’t his style.”

That scared me the most—I didn’t know who would do something like that. Yes, Jay was the only one who made sense, and I guessed it could be possible that he’d developed a whole new brand of crazy in prison.

“What exactly was his style?” Lucas asked, sounding as if he was speaking through clenched teeth.

I looked up at him. Sure enough, that telling muscle in his jaw ticked. Knowing that his anger was on my behalf softened something in me. I swallowed, but my mouth had gone dry.

“He was more the physical type.” I kept my eyes on Lucas’s when I explained, “He liked to see firsthand the damage he caused.”

“That first night here, when you flinched, you thought I was going to hit you. That’s why, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t think you were going to hit me. It’s a hard reaction to shake, though. It’s been a long time since anyone raised a hand to me, but sometimes my body doesn’t remember that.”

“But he did.”

I nodded.

Lucas reached down and picked up my arm, his thumb running along the faint white scar that marked it. “And what was this?”

Just the reminder brought back the memories of the gut-twisting pain. “He broke my arm because a shirt I’d ironed wasn’t up to his standards. Compound fracture. The skin split way further than you would’ve thought.”

“Jesus Christ, Yve. Why isn’t he dead?” His voice was low and serious.

Because I didn’t own a gun to protect myself at the time didn’t seem like an awesome answer, although it was the truth.

“I don’t know. Not my call.”

“He deserves to be.”

“Yeah, he does,” I agreed, feeling no remorse for the sentiment.

“And you won’t give me his name?”

I shook my head.

“And you realize I could get it with almost no effort.”

I met his gaze and held it. “Please don’t. Just leave it be.”

“I don’t think you understand what kind of man I am. Because it’s not the kind who can let a piece of trash like him keep breathing while you live in fear.”

“You sound like some kind of street hood who offs people who get on your bad side.”

When he didn’t smile, laugh, or even reply, I didn’t know what to say.

A few heartbeats later, he said again, “Just give me a name.”

“Please leave it be. It’s over now.”

“I beg to differ. You’re homeless. Even if you won’t admit it, you believe that explosion was meant for you.”

Bile rose in my throat when he put it so plainly. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced it down. I was done thinking about this for now.

“Shit, Yve. Just let me—”

I opened my eyes and met his. “Can we just drop it for now? I . . . I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Dirty Dog should already have been open for an hour. I latched on to something I could control rather than this threat I wasn’t able to wrap my arms around—or the shifting sands that were my feelings about Lucas Titan. “You need to get back to work, and so do I.”

He shook his head. “You’re not going to work. Jerome should be there by now. He’ll talk to your temp and make sure the shop runs smoothly.”

Just when I thought the man’s overbearing nature wasn’t as bad as I’d made it out to be, he proved me wrong. Dirty Dog was my domain.

“Not necessary. I’ll be ready in five minutes. I’ll find something there to change into.”

Lucas stood, and like a brick wall, he blocked my path. “No.”

I raised an eyebrow. I really didn’t like the word no, especially not when work would give me the lifeline of distraction I needed. “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same. I’m not helpless. I’ve had my cry, and nothing I do now is going to change what happened. All I can do is move forward and make sure Dirty Dog continues to kick ass so I can get someone to loan me the money to buy the place.”