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My secret has to do with fire.
Layne wished she could call him. To demand answers.
But she was afraid to call him. She was afraid the truth would be more devastating than all these hypotheticals.
Her father disappeared into his study when they got home, making Layne wonder why he’d even bothered to stay with her.
He’d tried to be supportive in the car, talking about how they’d find another place for her to ride, to move her horse to another facility, all concrete, easy things that should have been reassuring but weren’t at all, really.
She stripped out of her clothes in the bathroom, clenching her eyes shut as usual, hating the sight of her na**d body. She couldn’t see, anyway; her eyes kept blurring with tears that she chased off. She kept her mind occupied by flinging her clothes into two piles by feel: keep or trash. The jacket was disgusting.
Trash. The boots were expensive and could use a good cleaning.
Keep. Turtleneck, keep. Socks, keep. Riding breeches, trash.
Then the memory of that moment in the grass hit her, full force.
Your scars aren’t all you are, Layne.
She gasped and pressed her hands to her eyes, letting her shoulders shake with emotion but refusing to let the tears fall.
Gabriel saw her. Really saw her, despite the scars, despite her imperfections. He’d kissed his way across her abdomen, saying all the right things and touching her in ways that had made her want to cash in her V card right there. She’d never felt like she could have a relationship with a boy, had never thought anyone would look past the destroyed flesh marking half her body.
That moment, that had been perfection.
And then it had all gone up in smoke. Literally.
She shivered and rubbed at her eyes. She was still standing in the middle of the bathroom, sniveling in her bra and underwear.
All she could smell now was smoke and sweat.
But first, she wanted to see what he’d seen. She wanted to see just how bad the scars were, as if they’d changed since the last time she’d dared take a look in the mirror.
Quickly, before she could change her mind, she swiped the tears away, opened her eyes, and stared at her reflection.
And despite the chill in the air, she kept right on staring, not believing what she was seeing, despite the evidence right in front of her.
Her scars, every last one of them, were gone.
CHAPTER 33
Gabriel sat in math class, hating the empty chair beside him.
He couldn’t focus. Five hours ago, he’d been dragging Layne out of a burning barn.
Now he was listening to Anderson prattle on about negative numbers.
He’d been able to pull enough energy from the sun to ensure his hand wasn’t broken, but when he went for his lighter to draw more power from a true fire, he didn’t have it.
Whatever. The pain felt good.
He hadn’t wanted to come to school. But Nick had a good point: If he was already a suspect even an unofficial one not showing up for school on the same day as a fire might raise a huge red flag. He’d spent most of first period fidgeting, watching the door, absolutely certain that cops were going to come storming into the classroom any minute to arrest him.
Absolutely certain that Layne would have turned him in.
But as time went on, as students went about their business, he realized that nothing had changed.
He hadn’t seen Hunter yet, and the morning was too complicated to sum up in a text message. But when he hit the cafeteria, Calla was already sitting with Hunter.
