Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(8)

I laughed. “You’re going to outlive us all, Ginny.”

Anyone else would have gotten a sharp reprimand for calling the dignified woman by such an informal nickname, but I occupied a unique space in her life. I was the girl she’d taken under her wing when the rest of my life was falling apart, and I’d had nowhere to go. I’d been bruised, beaten, and alone. Geneviève had broken ranks with her family—in secret—to shelter and help me.

“You know I’ll try, dear.” She patted my arm. “But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

The pleasant surprise of seeing her in the shop faded away when the purpose of her visit became clear.

“I know.”

“He’s going to be out soon, Yve. We need to talk about what happens next.”

The he in question was my ex-husband and Ginny’s grandson. The one who’d spent the last ten years in the closest thing there was to a cushy prison for rape. Not my rape—oh no, because his father had made certain any allegations that had come from me were discounted to the point that they were laughable. No, Jay had made the big mistake of targeting a woman whose father was a judge. Someone who would not allow his daughter or her accusations to be ignored.

Because money made the world go ’round.

“When exactly is he getting out?”

Ginny’s gaze dropped. “My son hasn’t seen fit to share that information with me, but soon.” She paused. “Are you sure you want to be here when he gets out? There’s no telling how he’s going to react to being on the outside again. His father and I can only do so much to keep him on a short leash. You know how he is.”

And I did know how he was. But I hadn’t let him—or his father—run me out of town before, and I wouldn’t let him now. Leave my friends? Dirty Dog?

The instant leaving Dirty Dog popped into my head, I cringed. I might be doing that anyway, whether I liked it or not. I was still trying to shove the thought out of my head as Geneviève kept talking.

“What if I helped you set up a shop just like this one, anywhere you wanted? You pick the city, and I’ll help you make it happen. It would be a fresh start, Yve.”

I snapped my attention back to the conversation. “What are you talking about? You want me to leave town, and you want to pay me to do it?”

Ginny’s expression softened. “You know I don’t want you to leave, but Jay’s release will stir up all the old gossip, and it’s going to get uncomfortable here. Not only for the family, but for you. I know you didn’t want to leave before, but you also haven’t moved on, Yve. Have you dated? Had a relationship? Is being in this city part of what’s keeping you from moving forward with your life and living it?”

Her words shot pangs through my heart, because she was right in some respects. It was quite possible I hadn’t moved on, hadn’t had a relationship beyond a fling that lasted a few nights, or a few weeks at most.

But I completely disagreed as to the reason why. It had nothing to do with this city and everything to do with the fact that I wasn’t willing to trust anyone the way I’d naively trusted Jay before he became a monster. Never again would I make myself such an easy target. Vulnerability was an invitation to be walked all over.

“I’m not leaving. This is my home.”

“I just think that you might be more comfortable if you—”

“No,” I said, my tone resolute. “I’m not leaving.”

Ginny’s expression fell. “I just want what’s best for you, dear. If you change your mind, you know I’m here whenever you need me.”

I leaned forward and pressed a heartfelt kiss to her cheek. “Thank you. You know I never would’ve made it this far without you. I promise I’ll be fine. This town is just going to have to be big enough for both of us.”

Which was ironic, because he was going to have to stay away from me at all times. My restraining order would be active when he was released from prison. But that flimsy piece of paper wouldn’t keep me safe if Jay decided he wanted to get to me.

Geneviève squeezed my hand once more before turning to leave. Unease filtered through me, along with a sense of loss. The loss was my delicate feeling of safety shredding to pieces. Thoughts of vigilantly watching my back at every moment of the day hammered me. Would I ever feel safe again once he was out?

The door chime jangled again, and Levi poked his head out of the back room. “Everything okay out here?”

“Everything’s great,” I said, forcing cheer into my voice. “Everything’s perfect.”




But it was all a big, fat lie. And the lie started to crumble when my cell phone rang a few hours later.

“He’s out.” It was Valentina—Jay’s other victim, the judge’s daughter—and her usually confident and calm voice shook.

“What?” My voice trembled to match hers.

“He’s out, Yve. They let that animal out of his cage, and they didn’t even give me the warning I was supposed to get first. I just got a call from the victim’s rep, and he was oh-so-apologetic that they were calling late.”

My phone slid from my grip and thudded to the counter. Geneviève had been wrong—Jay wasn’t getting out soon. He was already out.

I snatched it up again. “Holy shit.” My response wasn’t eloquent, but any other words escaped me.