Page 2 of Sinful Scars

I have no choice but to follow her, just to make sure she gets home safely, even if, like today, that means spending some time in a bar.

Anything for her.

When she enters the bar, I wait fifteen seconds and follow her inside.

I tend to avoid crowded, noisy places. Places like this put me on edge, and my jaw already aches from clenching it so hard.

My eyes find her as soon as I walk in.

My entire body tenses when she glances around.

She doesn’t notice me, she never does, but the hair on the back of my neck still stands up at the thought of her catching me watching her.

I choose a table hidden away from the orange lights of the bar. The waitress takes my drink order, while waiting I pull the hood of my jacket up helping shadow my face and adjust my hair so it covers my eyes just in case.

My gaze straysfrom her only long enough to survey my surroundings.

A few women have already clocked me, but not out of interest. Fear, perhaps…

As soon as my drink is delivered to my table, I lift my glass to my lips, risking another glance at Elle.

It’s selfish of me to seek comfort in her smiles, but I can’t help myself.

I love her smile. It makes me think that for a second or two, she might be happy, despite everything she’s gone through.

But she’s not happy. Not even close.

For a few minutes, I sip my vodka slowly as I survey the busy bar, my ears tuned in to the sound of her voice as she chats animatedly with her friend, the one I know she works with at the hospital.

It’s a Friday night, and the place is packed with overworked hospital staff and overpaid investment bankers all looking for someone to warm their bed for the night.

Elle’s already on her third vodka and tonic and from the slight flush of her skin, I know the alcohol is starting to take effect.

She’s beautiful, with her long, dark hair and bright, green eyes that light up when she smiles.

Ditching her blue hospital scrubs for a dark burgundy dress that hugs her curves perfectly and compliments her tanned skin, I can barely take my eyes off her, and I’m not the only one.

I’ve already clocked over a dozen men who have looked her way, their tongues practically hanging out of their mouths as she throws her head back and laughs, exposing the delicate skin of her neck that is begging to be explored.

While I know I can’t have her, that doesn’t mean that Iwant anyone else to have her either. The thought of someone putting their hands on her, feeling her soft skin and hearing the sounds she makes when she comes, has me grinding my teeth.

There’s not one single bastard guy in this place that is even worthy of so much as a smile from Elle Conti, and I’m not averse to making that known to any one of them who dares to come anywhere near her.

As I finish my drink and wave at the waitress to pour me for another, I catch Elle’s friend getting up out of the corner of my eye.

I sit up straight as I watch her friend disappear into the toilets.

My eyes land on the guy sitting by himself at a table nearby as the moment Elle is alone, he gets to his feet and makes his move.

Hell fucking no.

My body is screaming at me to intervene as the guy approaches her.

He looks like a complete douche in his knock-off designer suit and slicked-back hair.

I almost laugh, knowing that there is no way Elle is going to be impressed by him. In the two years I’ve been keeping an eye on her, she’s not dated anyone seriously, so I have no doubt that she’s not interested in anything from this guy.

And yet, I catch a hint of surprise in her eyes as the guy approaches her, as if she can’t believe that anyone is willing to give her the time of day.

---