Page 57 of Bought
“We were loading up the last box when I heard the first round of shots.” My throat closes, and I don’t finish that part of the story, diving for cover, the shouts, the anguished cries of dying men. “Someone from our group had to leak the plans on purpose. There was no reason for a rival gang to know where we were and what we were doing. Someone betrayed me, and lives were lost.”
“And Isobel?” she asks.
“Isobel always asked to tag along. I never let her. Izzy wasn’t supposed to be there that night, but she didn’t listen. She was waiting for me back at the warehouse, probably hoping to join us for our usual 3 am breakfast after the job. I caught a glimpse of her. Then… nothing. Gone.”
I exhale slowly. “I thought—hoped—she made it out alive. But I never saw her again after that night.”
She drags a finger over the ridge running down my chest. “And the scars?”
“Rafe warned me not to go back into the warehouse when the shots died down. But I had to. I needed to find her.” Her body. “It was another trap. They were waiting for me to show up. Before I even had time to search, I heard shouts, felt the cold splash of liquid, and the strike of a match.”
She stares at me, not horrified by me or my scars, but by what was done to me.
“I was wearing a thick jacket, but it was open at the front. The lighter fluid soaked through my thin shirt, but luckily, I moved quickly. I managed to wrap my arms around myself, roll over the concrete, and extinguish the fire. I got out after that and found out later that they took the cargo and burned the warehouse down.”
It wasn’t enough to kill me. It was a warning: move on.
And I did.
But I’ve carried Isobel with me all this time.
Erin’s eyes search my face, then my chest, like she’s trying to find the rest of the story etched somewhere on my skin. “You never found her body?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t get the chance to before the fire. I was in and out of consciousness at the hospital.”
“But the day of the hit.” She reaches for my hand, holding it in hers, a comfort. “You did see other bodies, right?”
“Yes.” I swallow the tightness in my throat, picturing my men in my mind’s eye. “And when I got out of the hospital after the fire, I went back. Again. One more time to look for her. But the entire place had burned down.” I’m ashamed to admit, “I dug through the ashes but couldn’t find so much as a bracelet of hers."
“That’s strange,” she says, thinking. “Even when people are cremated, there’s something left behind. A tooth. A piece of bone. Something.”
I stare at the ceiling. “I was in shock. Maybe I missed something?” I get quiet.
A moment later, her soft hand is on my arm. “Lucian…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound callous…”
“No, just thinking.”
Is there something to what she’s saying?
With Erin here, I almost feel like I’m at the base of a mountain, ready to climb to the peak, gaze out over the beauty of the world,and finally heal. It’s a long journey, but with Erin at my side, I believe I could start.
I wonder if it’s best not to drag up the past on nothing more than a whim.
“She may be gone.” Her voice softens. “But she’s still in there.” She brings her hand to my heart.
And I grab it up, thanking her with a kiss, for seeing me, for understanding. Sharing with her is freeing me, bit by bit. I want to chase that feeling.
“I want to show you something I’ve never shared with anyone.”
She stares with reverence. Watching without a word.
I reach down and pull my waistband down just enough to reveal the scar carved into my hip. A single letter. ‘I.’
Her breath catches.
Her fingertips brush the old wound like a question she’s afraid to ask.
I feel it then, that flicker of fear. Will I ever be free of Izzy? Or the guilt that made me carve the I into my skin, the tip of the knife pulling lines of blood from my skin.
