Page 29 of Burn With Me

“Of course I want to see you!” she exclaims, sitting up straighter. “Real life just got busy…that’s all.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Goading her, I wonder if she’ll talk about the bet we made—the bet she andJacksonmade.

She looks down at her glass, a little smile pulling at her lips. “No. I’d rather dootherthings.”

“Not tonight, Little Ember. Tonight, I want to talk.” Grabbing my drink from the side table, I shift and lean against the arm of the couch, pulling further away so that I can look at her straight on. “What happened last week?”

Instantly, her cheeks turn pink as she picks at the top of her stocking. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, I’d love to know what happened to you to make you have such a response.”

Her eyebrows knit together as she looks over at me. “It’s in my past. What makes you think I want to relive that?”

The question goes unanswered. My fingers itch to reach for her but grip the back of the couch instead. “Scarlett, did someone hurt you when you were younger?”

Made up images of a younger Ginny and Chris flash through my mind as I wait for her to answer. The way he acted at the charity event has had me wondering, again, if it’shimshe lost her virginity to. He seems like the insensitive sort to call her names.

She’s gone still. So still, I don’t even see her chest rise and fall with her breath. “Why would you ask that? What makes you think someone hurt me?” she eventually asks.

Blowing out a breath behind the mask, I sit up straight. “Your answer is telling enough.”

She shifts, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is going.

But Ihaveto know.

“Who did you lose your virginity to?”

Her head snaps up, annoyance gracing her features as she turns to look at me. “That is really personal. Our identities are supposed to be anonymous, you know. Why would I give up information like that?”

That fiery temper is simmering just beneath her surface, a flame shooting up every now and then before it dies back to an ember. If I’m not careful, she may just get up and leave.

“My apologies. I presumed it would be best to know about your past if I’m going to attempt to teach you how to take hold of your future.”

My words are precisely what she needs to hear and she melts back against the couch with a remorseful look. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Silence stretches between us while I wait for her to speak next. When she does, her tone is soft and barely audible. “It wasn’t anyone special. Just a boy I went to school with. He was sweet, and that was what I needed.”

Tears line her eyes and I inwardly sigh. I’ve made her cry again. “So, I assume it wasn’t this boy who called you by that name?”

Her legs curl underneath her, and she picks her glass up again, shaking her head. Her toes skim the fabric of my pants, the black material of her stockings sheer enough that I can see her pink-painted nails.

“Who was it? Someone you lived with?” It’s risky to ask, but I can’t leave this room tonight without knowing.

Lifting her glass to her lips, she nods before taking a sip.

“Did they do more than just call you names? Did they ever physically hurt you?” I press. My upper body creeps forward, leaning toward her while I wait for her answer.

She’s doing her best to keep the tears at bay. But at the last question, they escape as she sighs a shuddered breath. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

My jaw clenches, hands balling into fists at her silent admission. The need to leave the club immediately and find her bastard of a foster brother grows within my chest, but then she looks at me and all I want to do is hold her.

That fucking bastard.

“You know, I really wish that I could comfort you right now. With something other than words.” What I mean is that I want to gather her in my arms, but she huffs a laugh and wipes delicately beneath the mask at her eyes, careful not to pull it off or smear her makeup.

“Yeah, all these beautiful outfits keep going to waste. I feel like all I’ve done is cry in this room with you.” She lets out a small laugh.

“Trust me. It’s no waste. I’m thoroughly enjoying the view, even if you are crying. And I mean that genuinely. But…perhaps there is something that can be done about our little dilemma?”

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