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I snort to cover my unease, and my concern. The thought of Tyler unwell scares the hell out of me. “You worry too much about everyone, Zane, you know that. We’re all adults.”

He frowns. “Like Ash who almost died trying to be a man, not telling anyone his problems?”

Crap. I wince as I sink on the sofa. “Ash must hate me.”

“Then talk to him, Erin. Do I have to force people to talk around here?” Zane sounds frustrated, and I can’t blame him. He’s looking out for everyone. It must be exhausting.

“When are you leaving?”

“In a few days. I’m thinking Friday, to take advantage of the weekend.”

I nod. “I tried talking to Tyler, you know. He won’t tell me anything.”

Zane sits next to me, studying me intently. “What if you’re asking the wrong question?”

“What do you mean? I want to know why he skipped town back then. That’s a simple enough question, isn’t it?”

“Nothing is ever simple.”

Don’t I know it. If he knew… But nobody does among my friends. I hid myself too well back then. “I want an answer, Zane. I screwed up, and I feel bad, but I need to know why he left.”

“Not saying you don’t,” he says quietly. He runs his hands over the shaved sides of his head. “But maybe that isn’t a question he’s ready to answer. Ask him something else. Like why he’s back. Start small, is all I’m sayin’.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

He grins. “I have faith in you, girl.”

I wish I did, too. “What’s got you all worked up over Tyler anyway? I didn’t notice anything off about him.” Then again, I’ve been kinda fixated on his eyes, his mouth, his chest… Bad girl, Erin.

“What?” Zane blinks as if he’s been elsewhere in his mind. “Oh. He looks tired, like he doesn’t sleep. He looks like hell warmed over.”

Like you? I want to say but don’t let the words out. “I see.”

“No, you don’t see,” he snaps. “There’s more to it than just sleepless nights.”

His outburst jerks me backward. Zane’s always so calm, and what is his thing with Tyler anyway? “What do you mean?”

“His ink.” He grunts and gets up. “Shit, this is none of my business, but I thought…”

“You thought what?”

“That you feel something for him.” He paces to the window and stares out.

Ice runs through my veins. I’m that transparent, then? After all these years building my walls, Zane can see right through me. I wonder if my I’m that obvious to everyone.

Funny thing is, I don’t remember any tattoos on Tyler. His body was clean when he left, his skin unblemished, a pale canvas I loved to explore.

Jesus. Get your wits together, Erin. “Tell me about his ink.”

“It’s more than just ink,” he says, his voice hushed. His back is to me, rigid. “It’s the scars.”

“Scars?” The word hurts my mouth like a jagged stone, and my throat aches. “What scars?”

“There’s a scar on his stomach and that word carved into his chest.” Zane turns and leans back against the wall. “I wonder if he did it to himself. I can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, can I?”

I stare at him blankly. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes narrow, and he turns his head away. His shoulders tense. “Well, I guess you’ll have to ask him that.”

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