Page 37 of Beautiful Scar

“Then why do you hide in your room?”

I straighten like he punched me. I don’t know why, but the way he says that itches at my spine. Like he’s mocking me or something.

“Just because I’m more comfortable away from all that doesn’t mean I think life is just meaningless and bleak. There’s good stuff too.”

“Like what, little doll?” He leans toward me. Brutal sadness leaks off him in thick waves. It’s almost choking, his dark rage.

“The way you saved me, for one,” I say, meeting those cold eyes. I should cower away. I should shrink into a little, meek ball,like a mouse playing dead in front of a hungry cat. “That was something good.”

“It was selfish.”

“No, it wasn’t. You didn’t need to, but you did anyway.”

“If I lose you, I also lose the alliance.”

My jaw works. Anger glitters in my stomach. “Is that really why you did it? That’s why you dragged me inside to safety instead of going straight to Damian?”

He grimaces like I punched him in the face. Then he nods. “That’s right.”

I kick my legs out and get to my feet. He stares at me as I step away from the couch, trying not to let him see how much that upset me. “I still refuse to believe the world is meaningless and everything’s just evil. I’ve seen lots of good. I’ve had terrible things happen to me, but I’m still an optimist.”

He licks his lips. “Like how you got that scar?”

My fingers lift up and touch it. “If anyone’s got a right to become a hateful nihilist, it’s me, but I refuse to give up like that. And you shouldn’t either.”

He seems surprised as he finishes his drink and grips the glass in one hand. That smile is back, bigger now. “I knew there was a little fire in you after all.”

I roll my eyes at him, frustrated and annoyed. “And you care more than you let on.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He stands firm. I step back, heart racing suddenly. I keep forgetting how big and powerful he is.This man could take my head in his hands and crack my skull to pieces if he wanted. I’m nothing in front of him.

Just a little doll.

“You’ve got this big, bad monster act going on, but you still dove on top of me when you didn’t have to. You’re not evil.”

“If you knew half the terrible things I’ve done, you’d run screaming from this room.” He steps closer. I move back. Like we’re doing a dance, except it’s not fun. Just really terrifying. “I think life’s a rotten fucking mess because that’s all I’ve ever seen. I think I’m evil to my core because that’s all I’ve ever been. I protected you because we cut a deal, and that’s it.”

My voice shakes. I try to keep my spine straight and chin up, but I’m so angry and afraid that it’s difficult. “You’re such a liar.”

“And you’re stuck with me, little doll.”

“What if I change my mind? What if I decide I don’t want to get pregnant by a monster like you?”

He grimaces, and guilt hits me. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t even think he’s a monster—that’s his word, not mine, and I shouldn’t have thrown it in his face.

“I’m not going to fuck you against your will,” he says, voice soft and angry.

“Because you’re not as bad as you pretend to be.” I turn away. My cheeks are burning pink, and I’m positive this was an enormous mistake. I never should’ve come in here right now when I’m so emotional and he’s clearly still mourning the death of his friend.

“Tomorrow night,” he says as I walk away. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. If you still want the deal, all you have to do is open it, and I’ll come to you.”

I get the hell out of his room. Once on my side, I slam the door closed, then retreat into my bed. I curl up under the covers, dizzy and confused.

But I know that nothing’s changed.

I’ll give him a baby, and then I’ll get the hell out of Baltimore before anyone else can die because of me.

Chapter 11

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