Page 26 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

Crazy. I'm totally crazy, no matter how nicely Sean tries to frame it.

He turns, his brown eyes searching mine. I wonder what he's thinking. Is he regretting taking this job? Or realizing I'm more neurotic than he bargained for? I hinted that it was just a run-of-the-mill stalker, someone I might be imagining, but now my true level of fear is showing itself.

His gaze holds mine for a suspended moment. I wait for the judgment and the subtle shift that says he thinks I'm overreacting. Because that's how others always react. Have I reached a point where I'm going too far and need medication to keep me inside a normal range of 'how to go about life'?

Sean holds my gaze and I actually get lost in those layers of brown.

No judgement comes.

"Mike," he says, still looking at me, "could you go outside and check the exterior under this window? Look for access points—balconies, the fire escape, anything that might provide entry to this window, even from the building next door."

"Sure," Mike says, and the next second he's gone. His footsteps fade down the hallway before the front door opens and closes with a soft click. The bathroom suddenly feels both emptier and more intimate with just me and Sean.

"So about the camera in here," he says, leaning against the wall with natural ease. "It's a privacy violation. Even in high-risk security situations, we have boundaries."

I like that he mentioned boundaries, that he respects them. But right now, my need for safety overrides everything else.

"I understand," I say, fidgeting with a blue hand towel. "But I want to feel safe. I need to. Even if it increases my discomfort for a while."

He tilts his head and looks at the window again, then back at me. His eyes narrow, assessing something. Decision made, he moves toward the window, opens it with a swift motion that makes his large biceps jump, and begins to climb through it.

My pulse dances with panic, and I grab his leg before I can think. "W-What are you doing?"

He pauses, half in and half out the window, and looks back at me in surprise. I realize one of my hands is clutching his ankle and the other is trying to grip his very toned, steely calf. My knuckles are white against the dark denim of his jeans.

I instantly release him, but the concern remains. "You'll fall."

He maneuvers back inside with the kind of ease that comes from years of physical conditioning. When he's fully back in the bathroom, he grins—a flash of white teeth against beige skin. "Worried about me?"

Heat rushes to my face, spreading down my neck to pool in the hollow of my collarbone. "Well, I don't want to be on the evening news because a man jumped from my window. Then my stalker will really find me." I lift one corner of my mouth to let him know this is my type of humor.

He returns the smirk. "Gee, thanks for the concern."

I laugh. It's a short, surprised sound that feels rusty. When was the last time I really laughed so openly? The sensation is so unfamiliar it's almost uncomfortable, but Sean keeps pulling more lightness from me.

"I needed to test if the window is accessible," Sean explains, wiping dust from his hands onto his jeans. "And it is. There's a ledge that connects to that fire escape near the corner. It's not the easiest. And someone would have to be a daredevil to do it. But like you said, not impossible."

He pauses, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair. The movement disrupts his perfect styling, sending a few strands falling across his forehead. For a moment, the resemblance to The Director fades, and I see only Sean.

"We can position a camera to pointonlyat the window," he says. "Put it on the windowsill facing out to see anyone attemptingentry. Everything in the bathroom will be hidden, and we'll have the sound off. I'm not comfortable doing it any other way."

I chew on my bottom lip. "Okay."

"We'll set something up. I promise."

"Thank you."

This is a small thing, but it feels enormous; it's the first time in years someone has taken my fears this seriously.

The front door opens and closes, announcing Mike's return. Sean nods at the doorway, indicating I should follow him to the living room.

We meet Mike there and Sean and Mike talk about the bathroom camera. I'm off to the side, just observing, when my phone vibrates in my pocket while also playing Lady Gaga'sBorn This Way.

Sean smirks and I feel the need to explain myself. "It's… well, it's a popular song. Lots of people like it. One second."

Sean and Mike return to discussing the camera setup while I check my phone. Raven is trying to video chat.

We only video chat in the evenings, and she knows the security guards are here, so the call request startles me. A cold ripple ofworry bounces up my spine. What if something's wrong? What if she's hurt? The what-ifs stack like dominoes, ready to topple.

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