Page 16 of Born to Scar

I chuckle and shake my head when my phone buzzes again. A picture of my sister’s headstone pops up.

MIK: I sat with her tonight.

He went there looking for me, finding solace in the same silence I often sit in.

Tears sting in my eyes as I respond.

She would’ve loved you, Mik.

She would have loved everyone I’ve surrounded myself with. Though I can’t help but think how different this all would be if that night had never happened, if she were still here with me. Would I have ever met these guys?

The heat from Jared’s body envelops me. I sag back against him, and his arms wrap around my waist. “Your connection with him is…intriguing.” He doesn’t say it with jealousy or malice. It’s simply an observation.

“I don’t know, Jay. He’s family.”

“Who’s Jennifer Halloway?”

Clearing my throat, I try to get rid of the lump that forms every time I hear her name. “Jenny is my sister.”

He kisses my temple, his arms tightening around me.

“She was taken from me when I was sixteen. She was my best friend. Looks like Mik finds peace sitting with her, too.”

“I thought you went to the bridge?”

“How did you know that?”

He chuckles. “We all know you go there.”

“Really? How?”

“Mik let it slip. No harm, no foul. Let’s go to bed.”

And for the first time in my life, I stay the night in a man’s home who isn’t Bik. Something in me doesn’t want this to end. And that scares me.

CHAPTER 8

CAM

TWO MONTHS LATER

Indy got her money. Within days of her getting it, she sent me a picture of her new R1 and thanked me. It’s much newer than her other one but still matte black and just as beautiful. I responded with a quick text telling her how sexy it is. Besides a smiley face emoji, she hasn’t responded. It’s been weeks.

I am fully moved into the city now. My Maserati and Ducati sit in the garage of my apartment building. What can I say? I like cars and bikes. Italian ones. Fast ones.

I barely get to use either of them though. My father continuously sends cars for me. Being the son of a high-profile lawyer makes having any kind of fun impossible. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.

It makes me think of her. Even if I could live vicariously through her sometimes, this life would be less tedious. Her energy, good or bad, is infectious.

She has no idea I’m in the same city as her now. After I returned home from my first trip here, it took everything in me not to contact her, but it’s for the best. We don’t fit into each other’s worlds. Even sharing the same zip code, the likelihood of us running into each other is zero.

Angela tried to move here with me. She actually thinks we are going to be together. Our parents are practically salivating at the thought of me marrying her. I fucked her—that’s it. I don’t know what else I can do to prove to them that it isn’t happening. Maybe fuck Indy in front of her? Show her what a real fuck looks like. One that I can’t stop thinking about.

A knock at my office door drags me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I call.

Ken, another partner attorney, strolls in. “The Ducthiath client wants to go to Tongue and Groove.”

My head jerks up with a chuckle. “You know what that is?” He nods. This isn’t the first time a client has wanted to go to a strip club, but it’s always an interesting trip. “When?”