Page 61 of Scar

“I just do,” Tally practically growled. “Besides, you’re missing the point, Mark.” She tapped her chest. “Iknowhe wasn’t here to harm me. I know it, but my father won’t believe it. How do I get him to understand?”

“Understand what?” Mark asked, but there was movement that hinted that someone stopped him from inquiring further.

Simone spoke up. “Tally, putting aside how much you’ve kept from us,your friends, I am not sure I am understanding what it is you are wanting to do. It sounds like you want your father to release him? I’m assuming he’s been taken to prison or something? Regardless, if your father says he’s dangerous and a threat to you, I don’t know what it is you are looking to do.”

“Heisdangerous,” Tally stressed, “butnot to me.” She scratched her arms, that itchy feeling returning. “You don’t understand. None of you get it. I knowin my heartthat he was never a danger to me.”

Mark scoffed. “Do you know how insane you sound, Tally? You’ve clearly got Stockholm syndrome or whatever the equivalent of that is to whateverthisis. Is this why you broke up with me? Because you fell for your fuckingstalker?”

Tally flinched at Mark’s harsh words.

“Don’t be rude, Mark,” Simone scolded, her voice almost maternal. “Of course, she hasn’t fallen in love with him. Hell, she doesn’t even know his name.”

Tally opened her mouth to deny the accusation as well, but the words got caught in her throat. She coughed, turning away from them to head to her fridge for some water. She wasnotin love with her mystery man… She couldn’t be.

That was insane—though not for the reason Mark thought or Simone just said.

But there was…somethingthere.

Tally gulped down her water, needing to buy time before answering. Mark and Simone were still bickering back and forth, but Tally blocked it out.

Tally could not deny that she cared for her mystery man. But love? It was… That was too much. She didn’t know anything about him. Except—she did. She knew he was protective. She knew he was caring. She thought back to her questions she’d asked him, their throwing game. She knew he barely ate and only drank water. She knew he served in the military and even that the Army had been his branch of service. It was more of a sense than anything, but she thought he had an aversion to touch. Given the scars she felt at his throat and the one Grayson claimed was on his face, Tally could understand that. Clearly, something traumatic had happened to him.

Tally didn’t know if he could talk, but she still had the impression that he wasgoingto. If her father hadn’t come when he had… Which also begged the question,howhad her father known her mystery man was here and with her? If he’d come down to help her deal with the fire at her restaurant then he wouldn’t have brought a small army of bodyguards with him.

Maybe that was what was bothering her about this whole thing: her restaurant, her life’s work, had just burned to the ground and all her father had cared about was capturing her mystery man. What was between them? The sense of betrayal she’d gotten from her father came forward again, but he’d also been harsh and determined in his single-mindedness to get at her mystery man.

Her father had fuckingkidnappedsomeone out of her apartment.

Tally walked back to her island. “You’ve been quiet, Tom,” she said over Simone and Mark. “What do you have to say about any of this?”

Both Simone and Mark stopped talking, and Tally sensed their attention turn towards Tom to their right.

Tom deliberated for a moment, likely choosing his words carefully. “Bottomline, I’m concerned. This man was in our lives,all of our lives,” he stressed, “for over a month and you didn’t tell us. I understand that you believed he was working for your father, but he was inside Mark’s apartment without his permission or knowledge. Was he inside our house too? Around our daughter?” Shame filled Tally and must have shown on her face, because Tom said, “Exactly. You might trust him, Tally, but I’m not sure you should. Clearly, your father knows more about him than you do. If your father is as powerful of a man as you’ve implied, both now and in the past, then perhaps you need to put your personal feelings aside. Whatever this man was doing here, it wasn’t to protect you.”

Tally felt her heart sink at Tom’s words. He didn’t understand. None of them did. “What if that’s not why he came here?” she asked Tom. “But what if that’s why hestayed? I don’t know how to explain it, but…” She shook her head, frustrated. “I willneverbelieve he was here to hurt me. I don’t care who tells me and how many times. Unless I hear itfrom him, I will never believe it.”

A chair scraped across her floor. “Tally, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

Tally nodded at Simone. She started around the island, but then stopped. “Wait, the kids are in my bedroom.” She supposed they could talk in her bathroom.

“I’ll get them,” Tom offered. “It’s time they got up anyway. You said the extra cinnamon rolls were for them, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Tally answered.

After Tom got Grayson and Amelia up and headed towards the bathroom with them, Simone and Tally stepped into her bedroom. Simone closed the door behind them.

“Okay, out with it. What is it you’re not saying?”

Tally shifted, uncomfortable. “I don’t know what you mean?—”

“This might come as a shock to you, Tally Meacham, but you’re a shit liar. You have no poker face whatsoever. So yes, I know you’re still keeping something from me. I am putting aside how angry I am right now that you’ve been keeping secrets from me since the start of our friendship. But I need you to talk to me.” Simone’s ire still rang in her voice, making Tally’s guilt intensify. “What is it you’re not telling me? Did something happen between you and your ‘mystery man’?”

Tally ignored the obvious mockery of her nickname for her, well, mystery man. Letting out a long sigh, Tally sat down on her bed. The comforter was messed up from the kids sleeping in it. She hadn’t checked the time since the others had arrived, but it was probably still before nine in the morning. “It’s… I don’t know how to explain it. All my life, I’ve been able to sense things. You know, my ‘spidey sense’, but it’smorethan that. It’sdeeperthan that. Obviously, I’m not psychic or have empathic abilities, but I stillfeelcertain things. Intentions, I guess. I’m not really explaining it correctly.

“But that’s how I know that he would never hurt me. Hell, even when I thought he was an intruder in my apartment, I knew that.”

Simone came to sit next to her. “Okay. Go on.”

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