Page 71 of Our Secrets and Scars

I shake my head, not daring to look him in the eye. “Only the thought of losing you.”

He laughs quietly as if the very idea is preposterous. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, little one. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah?”

“If anything, it’ll be me who loses you in the end.”

I frown up at him, finally meeting his eye. Silver on umber, our gazes lock together. It’s a moment so thick, it makes my breath catch.

But his statement confuses me. Why would he ever think that it’d be him losing me?It doesn’t make any sense.

“What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, glancing at the clock on the wall behind me, and the moment is broken.

“Nothing, Kinz. Don’t worry about it. Just finish getting ready so we actually have time to do what I’ve got planned.”

I turn to do as I’m told, the submissive inside of me shivering at the commanding tone of his voice. The man is the perfect mixture of dominance and tenderness. He can order me around, assert his power over me, and use the immensity of his frame to remind me of how small I am compared to him. Keep me in line. Remind me of my place. But he only ever touches me with softness.

“Wait,” I say, glancing back over my shoulder at him. “Does that mean I’m your girlfriend now?”

“Little one, you’ve belonged to me since the first time you sent me a letter. The label isn’t for my benefit.” He smacks me lightly on the ass. “You’ve been my girl for years already. I don’t need it to know that you’re mine.”

“Did I tell you I made the Dean’s list?” I ask Holden as he drives us to our mystery location.

“What? No. That’s incredible! How come you didn’t mention it sooner?”

I shrug. “I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”

He shoots me a frustrated scowl from the driver’s seat. “It’s a huge deal, Kinz.”

My cheeks blush red from his praise.

“You told your parents?” he asks, reaching across the center console to lay his hand on my thigh.

I intertwine my fingers with his and rest my head against the window. “No,” I whisper.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should tell them.”

“They probably wouldn’t care anyway.” I say it lightly, but my heart feels heavy with the weight of my words.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to make my parents proud of me. But growing up, it was always as if they thought of me as the lesser daughter. The disappointment. The superficial airhead who cares more about her appearance than her studies. That’s why I’ve worked so hard since coming to college, hoping that maybe,just maybe,they’d finally start to see me the way that they’ve always seen Bexley.

But there’s just no competing with a dead girl.

In the few months I’ve been in Salt Lake City, my parents have called a handful of times. And, sure, it always starts off okay. They ask me how I am, what I’m up to, and how I’m doing in my classes. But inevitably, the comparisons begin, and the conversation sours.

Bexley would have gotten an A on that test. Bexley wouldn’t have enrolled in that class. Bexley would have made better choices.

So, I’m resistant to tell them that I’ve made the Dean’s list, because I don’t want to hear how my sister “probably would have made it twice.”

“Have you ever spoken to them about it?” Holden asks, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. “How you feel, I mean.”

“No.”

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