Page 81 of Sinful Scars

I should give Dr. Mills some credit. It seems Elle’s learned a trick or two from her over the years.

“Relief,” I admit. “But that soon turned to horror and guilt. Ihatethat I can’t even fucking remember doing it!”

My temper flares, and I curl my hand into a fist.

I’m seconds away from sending it through the wall when Elle gets to her feet and steps closer to me.

“You’re not a bad person?—”

“Don’t say that.” I shake my head. “I don’t deserve to get off that easily. I should have to suffer with the memories of murdering them for the rest of my life.”

“Igor is a terrible man. Nina told me all about him. What he threatened to do to her daughter if she didn’t hand over Anton to him…” Her voice trails off, and my jaw clenches.

“That fucking bastard. What did he ask her to do?”

“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Lilya is safe and well.”

For now.

Igor is still out there, biding his time, and he will stop at nothing to get revenge.

I’m living proof of that.

“Now that I know who you are, can I see you? I mean,reallysee you?”

“Elle…”

How can she want to see me after everything I’ve done?

“Please.”

She doesn’t wait for me to protest before walking over to her bedside table to turn on the light.

I screw my eyes shut as I try to ignore the rising sense of panic that has my hands shaking.

I've imagined this moment dozens of times over the years, but it always ends with Elle looking at me in disgust as she sees my scars.

Maybe that’s what it will take for her to realize the truth.

My hands shake as I lower my hood so that she can finally see me for who I really am.

Scarred.

Damaged beyond repair.

I lift my eyes to scan her face as she slowly takes me in. I don’t miss the way her eyes linger on the scars that peak out along my neck from beneath my hoodie, and I wait for the flicker of repulsion, but it never comes.

“Elle…” I whisper, bringing her eyes back to mine.

She keeps them locked on me as she crosses the distance between us.

Even in a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie with her hair piled high on her head, she’s breathtaking.

Her hips sway with each step, and I try not to remember what it felt like to explore her body with my hands. And when I finally get to stare deep into her green eyes, something that I’ve dreamed of doing for years, all the air leaves my lungs.

She is everything that I want, and yet can’t have.

I notice the tiny brown flecks around her pupils as well as the small cluster of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

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