Written in the Scars(57)

Ty starts to glare at me out of the corner of his eye, but catches himself. “Elin, it’s not what you think.”

“Then f*cking start talking, Tyler. Because you said you weren’t with someone else. Remember that? Remember me telling you that was the one thing I couldn’t handle?”

“I wasn’t with her!”

Flinching, my arms smack against my legs. “Her? So there is a her?”

“Not like that.”

“I don’t care what it was like. If she exists, this is over.”

“She’s the granddaughter of Kruger, all right? I can’t even figure out how Pettis saw us together,” he laments.

“Fuck you!” I gasp. “You f*cking cheat!”

“I didn’t cheat on you!” He flips the radio off, even though it could barely be heard over the blood soaring through my veins. “I was with her a couple of times getting shit for the Kruger’s. I was never with her like that. Not like Pettis implied.”

There are no tears. Watching the passing landscape, I try to process this.

“Elin, I swear to you . . .”

“Don’t you see?” I say, whipping my head to his. “None of this would even be discussed had you not left.”

“What do you want me to do?” he booms. “I f*cked up, Elin. All right, you got me. You win.”

“I win? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Is this what you want? You want to ruin everything we’ve started to figure out because Pettis is a dick? Because you let what he says f*cking matter?”

“What he says doesn’t matter,” I seethe. “What matters is you being a liar.”

The chuckle rumbling through the cab of the truck is ominous. “You know what? You think what you want. If you really think I’d do that, then you don’t know me at all.” The truck takes the turn into our driveway at an acute angle, gravel flying every direction. The engine is cut and he looks at me, his eyes blazing. “This one is up to you. Believe me. If you don’t, you can be the one to run away from everything this time.”





ELIN


“Ty!” I shout, my steps pounding down the sidewalk after him. “Wait.”

He doesn’t, but he does leave the back door open. When I step inside, he’s leaning against the stove, waiting for me. His mouth is set in a firm line, not like a man hiding something. But like a man that’s been accused of something heinous.

“He’s not capable of that, Elin. He’s not built that way.”

“You swear you weren’t having an affair?” I gulp. My hands are twisting in front of me as I try to read even the most minute pieces of his body language.

“I swear.”

No effort is made to come towards me; the ball is left in my court. I’m not sure what to do with it.

“You promise?” I ask again.

He shoves off the appliance, his lips twitching. “You already asked me that.”

“So?”

“You want me to pinkie swear?” he teases. “Want to call Kruger and ask him if his granddaughter and I went into town for supplies a time or two? Maybe you’d like to call her, but I’d have to call Kruger first to get her number and being that Nila—that’s her name—is getting married in a couple of weeks, I’m going to guess he won’t be pleased.”

Biting my lip, I watch him take a step towards me. Then another. Before I know it, his lips are at my ear. “Why in the world would I ever want another woman when I have you?”

I melt into him, both from his words and the relief of knowing he’s telling me the truth. “Ty,” I breathe, walking until my back hits the cabinets. “I don’t want to tell you to stop . . .” Moaning as his kisses turn into soft bites against the skin at the base of my neck, my hands find his back and press him into me.

Grabbing the cabinet on either side of me, he touches his lips to mine. Working my lips over with his soft, smooth mouth, I nearly turn into a pile of mush on the floor.

My jaw slacks and he wastes no time taking full advantage. His tongue swipes the inside of my bottom lip before leisurely dragging over mine.

My hands thread together at the back of his neck. I press him towards me, wanting—needing—this connection.

He presses against me, and I feel his solidness against my belly. My core flames, an intense burst with no build-up, just a red-hot fire that flows into the apex of my thighs.

With no warning, he stills. His mouth pulls from mine, his body retracting.

“Ty?” I ask, panting. “What the hell?”

Shoving off the cabinet, he reaches behind me. I follow his hand as he draws an envelope in front of my face.

The corner of his lip is upturned, his brows shooting upwards as well. “Let’s take care of this first.”

“The envelope from Parker?” I ask incredulously, grabbing at his hips.

“I can’t focus if I know it’s sitting on the counter.”

He’s toying with me, but I’m not in the mood. I reach out and jerk the envelope from him. My eyes meeting his and holding the envelope mid-air, the tearing sound rips through the room as I split it in half.

His smile grows as does the slash in the papers. I don’t smile, don’t frown, just keep pulling until there is one piece in each hand.