Page 67 of Scar

Simone guided Tally to their right. Though it wasn’t necessary, as Tally had a clear image in her head of where everything was thanks to the hardwood floor, Simone helped Tally through the maze of furniture and to one of the loveseats. She sat down beside her and then said, “Thank you,” as she accepted two water bottles.

Simone cracked open the water bottle before picking up Tally’s right hand and placing the cold plastic into her palm. If Tally could roll her eyes, she would have. What, Simone didn’t want to drink it for her too? Maybe transfer it to Tally’s mouth like a mama bird?

She knew she told Simone to play up her blindness, but damn.

Tally tried to keep the annoyance off her face and took a sip of the water. “Thank you.”

Others filled in the seats around them, making Tally feel like she was under a heated spotlight on a Broadway stage. The air was tense, like they were waiting for some bad news. And she could sense them all staring at her.

A different man spoke up. “How do you know Scar?” his voice wasn’t entirely friendly.

“Bulldog,” Steel snapped. “I apologize,” he said more gently to Tally and Simone. Tally sensed he was sitting the closest to them. The other man who had spoken, Bulldog, was further back. Without using echolocation, Tally couldn’t tell who had sat down where or who was still standing. “Bulldog is my Sergeant at Arms and was Scar’s best friend.”

Was?Tally stiffened slightly. Had they had a falling out or something?

Not knowing how else to explain what they were doing here or to prove that they did know Scar, Tally reached for Simone’s purse. Apparently it was a good thing she’d taken the cut off, because otherwise she’d be doing a striptease for these strangers.

Taking out Scar’s cut, she held it out to Steel.

Fast motion and heavy footsteps sounded as someone approached them quickly. Tally’s grip on her cane tightened, but no one came at them directly. She sensed a large presence by Steel and then the distinctive sound of leather.

“Where did you get this?” It was Bulldog who spoke, only this time his voice was soft. Like he was barely breathing.

Not able to stand it anymore, Tally clicked her tongue in his direction. Bulldog was massive, easily six and a half feet tall. She knew he was bald too and would guess that he had a lot of facial hair. He was standing right next to Steel, gripping Scar’s cut.

Tally tipped her head. The emotion coming off of Bulldog was intense, like grief.

Not ready to answer the question of where she’d gotten the cut from, Tally asked, “I need you to tell me about Scar. I need to know if he’s a good guy or a bad guy.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the only sounds coming from the two oblivious babies.

A woman answered from Tally’s right. “He was the best guy.”

There was that word again:was. Why were they talking about Scar in the past tense?

“Tally, Simone, this is Harper.” Tally recognized Lucky’s voice. “She’s my better half and was also Scar’s friend.”

Tally couldn’t take it anymore. Rather than greeting Harper as social etiquette dictated, she demanded, “What do you mean bywas?”

“He died.” Tally turned her head in Bulldog’s direction. “He was shot saving one of our ol’ ladies.”

Utter despair crashed over her like a tidal wave. Dead? No! Tears welled in her eyes. How could that be? He’d escaped her father and then somehow… When? Tally dropped her head into her hands, not wanting witnesses to the spiral of emotions she knew were being displayed on her face.

Simone put her hand on Tally’s back, rubbing her soothingly as Tally rocked forward. “When did this happen?”

“Over two months ago.”

Tally froze, mid-rock. Twomonths? Was it possible they were talking about two different men? But then how had her mystery man gotten their man’s cut? No, she’dfeltthe scars on her mystery man’s throat. Sheknewhe was Scar. Their Scar.

“Does he talk?”

“What?” someone questioned.

Tally sat up, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks with the palms of her hands. “Does he talk? Scar?”

She got the distinct impression the others were waiting for Bulldog to answer. She tipped her face towards the big man, waiting.

“No,” Bulldog finally answered. “At least, not in many years.”

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