Page 60 of Beautiful Scars

I tense at the suggestion, my stomach knotting. The idea of stepping away, leaving him alone in my space, feels too vulnerable. Too dangerous. Zane must sense it because he doesn’t move, doesn’t press. He just sits there, leaning back against the counter with his hands loose on his thighs.

“You’re safe with me, Angel,” he says softly.

I snort and roll my eyes. "I keep hearing that, but I don't think it means what people think it does."

I regret saying it as soon as the words leave my mouth. He looks genuinely wounded. And honestly, I haven't picked up any insincerity or outright dishonesty behind his words. I don't feel like he's trying to convince me of anything.

“I’ll be right here. I'll stay in the kitchen. Take your time and lock the bathroom door. I won’t touch anything, and I promise I won't try anything. Food will be ready when you’re done.”

I scoff. “So, a shower is magically going to fix everything?”

“Nope.” He grins, but it’s gentler than before, his usual cocky edge tempered by something softer. “But, I think itwillmake you feel a little better, and that’s a start."

I exhale slowly, the knot in my stomach loosening a fraction. “You’re just going to… wait here?”

“Scout’s honor,” he says, holding up three fingers in a mock salute.

I hesitate, searching his face for a crack, any sign that this is some kind of trick. But there's nothing but steady patience.

Finally, I stand, my legs shaky beneath me. “Okay, I'm going. Be warned though. I'm taking my phone with me. If I hear so much as a single creak of the floor, I’ll call the cops.”

“Fair enough,” he says, his grin widening. “Now go. I’ve got breakfast to make.”

I roll my eyes but don’t argue. I make a production of grabbing my phone off the counter before marching down the hall and into the bathroom.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sunny

Iwouldnever,everadmit it to Zane, but the shower did help. A tiny bit. I feel better than I have since before that night at the club. He was right, but I'll take that information to my grave. He's one man I'm thinking doesn't need an ego boost.

It takes me some time to dig through the clothes in my drawers and find something clean to put on. By the time I make my way out to the living room and collapse on to the couch, Zane is waiting with a warm heaping plate of food and hot cup of coffee. He drops several packets of restaurant sugars and powdered creamer on to the coffetable.

I don't argue, I just take the plate from his hands and dig in. It's simple—eggs, cheese, a little salt and pepper—but it tastes better than anything I can remember having. It's delicious. Zane sits down on the opposite end of the couch, watching with an amused expression as I dump ten packets of sugar and two creamers into the coffee.

I shovel fork after fork of the amazing breakfast into my mouth trying to ignore that easy, crooked grin of his.

“So,” he says, leaning back. “I won't push, and I'll only ask you this one time, but I do have to ask. I’d like to hear your side of things. About what happened between you and Levi?”

I freeze, my fork halfway to my mouth. The mention of Levi sends a fresh wave of anger and hurt ripping through me, and for a second, I can’t even look at Zane.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say finally, letting my fork fall to my plate before setting it down on the coffee table. "I'm sure he told you everything."

Zane doesn’t back down, just nods slowly and keeps his eyes steady on mine. “Fair enough. Like I said, I won't push. He did tell me—and Colt—what happened. He was full of information. He gave us a version. His version. But, I'm not sure whether I should believe any of it. He lied to us, Angel. For years. And I don't know what exactly that means or what to do with it now."

As an afterthought he adds, "For what it’s worth… he seems almost as wrecked as you are.”

I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “Yeah? Well, good. He deserves at least that.”

Zane tilts his head, watching me. “You want to tell me why?”

My appetite's gone and my stomach is queasy. The words bubble up and I don't even try to stop them. “Because he left me,” I say, the bitterness in my voice cutting through each word. “He walked away from me, Zane. He said he loved me, told me I was his whole world, and then ditched me.”

Zane’s jaw tightens slightly, but he stays silent, letting me fill the space in my own time.

“I was in the hospital for almost two weeks. I waited for him to show up. To call. To visit. And, nothing. He disconnected his phone, and the one he'd given me. He disappeared." I don't even bother trying to hide the sadness.

"And that's not even the worst part of it." I feel my voice gather strength as words pour out. “It’showhe left me that I can't get over. I was lying there on the floor, barely alive, sliced open and bleeding, and... " The words trail off as I pull my feet up underneath me and wiggle my toes into the cushion under me.

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