Page 93 of Brutal Savage

I start removing my clothes, and I realize I haven’t closed the door all the way.

From the crack, I see him watching me.

He doesn’t turn away when our eyes meet. Instead, his gaze cruises down my naked form, and in it I find deep desire.

It’s then I remember the scar on my stomach. The one Jerry gave me.

I’m careful to hide it with his shirt, but he’ll see it sooner or later. I should tell him about it so he’s prepared.

His throat bobs, and I realize I enjoy the attention he gives me. He likes what he sees…but will he like me with the scar, or will it repulse him?

I cut our connection, slipping the shirt over my body and open the door. “Pretty sure it’s impolite to peep at a woman while she’s naked.”

A small smile plays on his face. “You’re not just any woman. You’re my wife, Elara. And you don’t get to hide from me.”

He grabs the back of my neck, forcing me up against him until I register every solid muscle on his body.

“You’re beautiful.” His thumb traces my jaw. “You should hear it every day, and I plan to tell you that every chance I get.”

My face heats up, and the thought of the scar comes crashing down. “You should know…”

“What is it?” He tugs my face up to his.

“I have a scar. On my stomach. It’s pretty bad, so if you think it’s ugly and want to…you know, keep the lights off when we have to?—”

“Show me.” His angered voice makes my throat go dry.

My face flushes. “I…uh…don’t have anything under here, and?—”

“I don’t care. I want to see it.”

I pinch my eyes closed, and when he moves back, I start lifting my shirt. I refuse to look at him as I drag it up, revealing the thick vertical scar starting from the right of my belly button all the way to my lower abdomen near my hip.

His audible breath fills me with shame.

“He did that to you?” he spits out through clenched teeth.

When I lower my shirt, I dare to look at him as I nod.

“Fuck, Elara!” The pained way he says my name…

Oh God, it’s like he wants to undo all that’s been done to me.

He grabs a fistful of his hair, pinching his eyes tight. And when he looks back at me, it’s softer.

He cups my face between two hands. “I need his name, baby. Please…” His forehead drops to mine, and he kisses the tip of my nose. “I can’t survive another day knowing that the person who hurt you this way is still breathing.”

I clasp his forearms, tears prickling. “I want to tell you, I do, but I don’t want him to know where I am. You just don’t understand how much it took to get away. I’m finally free of him and his family, and I’d like to keep it that way. Please respect that.”

“I’m not used to feeling useless, Elara.” He pitches back and sighs.

“You’re not being useless. You’re giving me what I need, and that’s what a good husband does.”

“Is that what I’m being?” A melancholy smile falls over him. “Somehow it feels like I’m failing you already.”

“I promise you’re not. Let’s get some rest. I have work tomorrow.” Then it hits me. “Oh my God. My clothes!”

“My men are already at your place, bringing everything over. You will have it all when you wake up.”

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