Page 116 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

"Thanks," he says. "I got it."

He's not understanding, so I set his pile on the bed next to mine.

He glances down at the items, running his tongue over his teeth and considering. Finally, he takes my hand and gives it a light squeeze. "You sure?"

"Yes." I swallow hard, looking down at our joined hands. I never want to let go. "I just… I don't want to be alone. I like… when you're close."

When I find the courage to look up, Sean's eyes are so relaxed and warm that I could drown in them and call it salvation. They're filled with understanding so pure it makes me want to weep.

He nods with one single dip of his chin. "Anything, beautiful."

My heart aches; I love when he calls me that, but it also soothes me too deeply and might make me fall to my knees and start weeping.

I'm not ready for that yet.

I have to release his hand, just for now. "I need to change," I say, grabbing the leggings and shirt I bought earlier and moving toward the bathroom. I pause. "Oh, can I maybe borrow your phone? I really want to message my friend before she worries too much. I'm sure she's texted by now and wondered why I haven't responded like I normally do. I won't peep at anything. Promise."

His smirk is sweet as he pulls out his phone and hands it to me. "Sure. The passcode is four-seven-eight-three-one. Peep all you want."

I laugh, and it feels good. It's a tiny spark of joy in this terrible day. "Thank you."

He grabs his clothes and leaves for the other bathroom, giving me some privacy.

It's so strange holding something so personal to Sean, something that can reveal so much about him, but I really don't want to pry. When I learn more about his past, his life, I want it to be through conversation and discovery, not from snooping through his phone.

Quickly, I open a browser and log into my social media account. Then I check the DMs. Just as I thought, Raven sent me several messages that are increasingly worried.

RavenMad:It's late there, yeah? You home from work?

RavenMad:Okay. Even later now. Message me, plz.

RavenMad:I hope you're just in the nuddy with your bloke, but please send me something. Plz. Even a thumbs up.

RavenMad:So worried. You okay?

RavenMad:Looking at plane tickets to New York.

The last message was sent just fifteen minutes ago. Before she buys any tickets, I type a quick reply.

Londyn83:It's been a terrible day. My phone is gone. I'm not at home. Sorry I haven't responded. Something scary happened but I'm safe now. Sean's here. I might not be able to message for a few days but I promise I'm okay. We'll talk as soon as I can. Love you.

The message seems inadequate, like trying to describe a hurricane as 'windy,' but I don't have the strength for more right now. Besides, if I explained what happened, she'd really be on the next flight, visa requirements be damned.

After I set Sean's phone on the nightstand, I drag myself to the bathroom. I need a shower, but I'm too tired. It takes the rest of my energy just to change into the leggings and sleep shirt I bought. Then I climb into bed and turn off the lights. I lie in the semi-darkness, listening to the sounds of Manhattan drifting through my window: car horns and distant sirens and the rush of people living their lives. Normal sounds that suddenly seem so fragile.

The shadows play tricks on me and I see The Director again. I feel my head connecting with the window; I feel a sharp blade pressed into my throat. Then there's Sean, fighting for me, saving me, filling me with more strength than I thought I had. I knew if I didn't help in some way he would get hurt, and the thought of Sean crashing, dying, filled me with more breath-stealing dread than seeing The Director.

So I acted, shoving myself into that psychopath and grabbing the knife to stab him.

I did that. I fought back.

Because Sean was there and made me feel invincible.

My heart is now beating his name and I don't want it to ever stop.

Sean appears in the bedroom doorway, now wearing sweatpants and a tank top. He's a silhouette painted in the glow of city lights from outside. His blue hair is darkened by moisture because he must've taken a quick shower.

He hesitates in the doorway, so I pat the empty space beside me on the bed.

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