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I don’t know how to elaborate more than that, but when Victor’s eyes flash, I can tell he’s picked up on the unspoken meaning of my question.
He nods, his expression shuttered. “Yes.”
My cheeks flush. I can only imagine all the things he might have seen. Me touching myself. Me naked as I came out of the bathroom to get dressed. Me getting eaten out by Malice. He probably watched it all with that cool, perceptive gaze, and just thinking about it makes me want to run from the room and hide. But at the same time, something hot curls deep in my belly.
Vic sees everything.
He noticeseverything.
Nothing gets past him, and knowing he watched me makes me feel…
I wrap my arms around myself, choosing not to follow the thread of that thought.
“I don’t let people see that much of me,” I say quietly. “I don’t let them see the scars.”
Victor looks at me, his eyes sweeping over my body. It’s not the way Ransom looks at me, or even the way Malice stares at me with his intense gaze, but something more analytical and piercing. It’s like he’s stripping away my clothing, the invisible armor I wear… all of it. Like he’s seeing right down to the heart of me.
Then he steps closer, almost like he can’t help himself.
“I’ve seen the way you try to hide them,” he murmurs. “Your scars. You always wear long sleeves, even to bed most nights. You work so hard to keep them out of sight. But I don’t understand why.”
I make a face, wincing. “I just told you why. I don’t let people see them.”
He shakes his head. “No, that isn’t what I mean. I don’t understand why I like them. Your scars are… chaotic. Disorderly. But for some reason…”
He takes another small step closer to me, and his hand stretches out. His fingers never touch me, but they hover over the part of my right side where my scars crawl across my ribs beneath my shirt.
Even though there’s still an inch of space between us, I’m intensely aware of how near he is. The heat from his hand soaks into my skin the same way a physical touch would. My breath hitches, eyes flying up to Victor’s face to find him looking right back at me, more emotions than I’ve ever seen before flashing through his eyes.
Then Ransom comes walking back into the kitchen, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he strides toward us.
I jerk backward, and Victor straightens up, stepping away. My heart is pounding hard, almost as if Ransom walked in on the two of us kissing or something. But he didn’t. We weren’t even touching. It wasn’t even that intimate, it just… felt that way.
Ransom seems to notice the strange vibe that sprang up in the room in his absence, and glances between the two of us, his brows drawing downward. Then he shakes his head and speaks to Victor.
“Well, I’ve got good news.”
“Good. We could use some of that,” Victor replies, carefully not looking at me as he turns to his brother. “What is it?”
“We just got a meeting with Ethan Donovan. We can finally set up this deal with him and his crew.”
31
RANSOM
A couple days later,I’m in the garage, working on my bike. It’s the one thing that usually chills me out when there’s too much going on, so I take the time to focus on it.
Our meeting with Ethan is happening this evening, and we still haven’t gotten any new info on the identity of the guy who was asking around about Nikolai.
There’s a lot going on, and a lot that feels unsettled. But somehow, the biggest thing on my mind is the waifish, beautiful girl with scars on her body and eyes like a fucking doe. She’s been sleeping in my bed for the past three nights, and every night it gets harder for me to control my reaction to her. We wake up pressed together, and her small body against mine is addictive.
Almost like she’s drawn by my thoughts, Willow comes walking into the garage.
“Oh.” She wrinkles her forehead as she sees the tools in my hands. “I didn’t know you were busy. I’ll just—”
She turns to leave, but before she can, I reach out and grab her wrist, tugging her toward me.
“No, don’t go,” I tell her with a smile. “What did you need?”
