Page 35 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

I smile, picking at my short fingernails and not looking around the apartment much. "So, I actually wanted to ask something. I know it's not much warning but I have plans tonight. A date, actually." The word feels foreign on my tongue, like speaking a language I've forgotten. Me? A date? Sounds nuts. "I completely forgot about it with everything else going on. Would it be possible for you guys to, you know, come with me? Not at the table or anything, just nearby? It's at an Italian place a few blocks from here. I know you said you'd accompany me when I go out, but I don't know if this is too short of notice…?"

Mike's smile doesn't falter. "Of course! That's what we're here for."

"Which guy is it?" asks a voice from the bedroom.

I startle, my body instantly tensing at Sean's unexpected question. I hadn't realized he could hear our conversation from the other room. My eyes dart to Mike, who chuckles at my reaction.

He leans in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Unsettling, isn't it? But that's why he's great at what he does. Always paying attention."

I force a smile, suddenly remembering Raven's squeal the other day about Sean being cute. Did Sean hear that too? My cheeks burn at the thought.

Sean emerges from the bedroom. His hair is slicked back like usual, and The Director's ghost slides over his features like a translucent mask. I immediately drop my gaze to his feet. Combat boots again. Solid. Practical. Nothing like The Director's polished Italian leather.

"Is your date tonight one of the guys on the list you gave us?" Sean asks. "The few you've talked to on the dating app."

I keep my eyes on Mike as I answer, as though he asked the question. "Uh, yeah. Marcus. You… looked into him, right?"

Mike answers. "Sure did. Everything checked out."

That gives me some reassurance about tonight.

"What time?" Sean asks.

I still can't look at him, but it's not entirely because of any odd resemblance to The Director. I guess… I don't want to talk with Sean about dating men.

But what does it matter? He's my bodyguard. I'm fine talking to Mike about it.

I clear my throat and keep looking at Mike. "I have to be there around seven. It's only a few blocks away, so I'd like to walk if that's okay."

"That works," Sean says, his voice neutral. "It'll give us a good opportunity to check for anyone following you. We've been taking shifts watching the building, but so far neither of us has noticed anyone suspicious hanging around."

I nod, still avoiding his gaze. I need to maintain my composure tonight, so I can't let memories of The Director's face trigger me before my date. My first date in six years.Oh god. My chest constricts like I'm being squeezed by a snake.

I hope I'm ready for this.

"We'll follow at a distance," Mike adds. "Then hang around outside the restaurant. You won't even know we're there unless you need us."

I nod because I like the plan.

"Have you dated this guy before?" Sean asks suddenly.

There's something odd in his tone, an edge I haven't heard before. I risk a quick glance at his face. His expression is carefully indifferent, but there's a tightness around his eyes like paper that's been crumpled, then smoothed out again. Is he upset or just concerned?

"No, just a first date," I respond, feeling oddly defensive. "He doesn't know about… all this. About you two. I just want to go to the restaurant and then come straight home. No other destinations. If that's what you mean?"

Maybe he thought I'd be going to the guy's house after dinner and they'd have to linger outside while we 'got down to business.' I shiver internally from the thought of being intimate with a man.

I do have a sex drive. Behind closed doors, in the safety of solitude, I still feel desire and the pull of needing release. But there's a canyon between feeling horny and actually wanting another person's hands on my body. My sexuality is something I keep locked away where no one can reach or threaten it.

"Alright," Sean says, his voice flattening to professional courtesy. He turns and disappears back into his bedroom. The door closes with a soft click that somehow feels louder than it should.

I stand there, feeling oddly unstable. Was it something I said? There's a strange charge in the air now, an unresolved tension. I don't quite understand why it's there.

I glance at Mike, who's frowning at the space Sean just vacated. When he notices me looking, his expression shifts back to its default warmth.

"Thanks for being so accommodating," I say, already moving toward the door. I'm eager to escape this strange atmosphere.

"That's what we're here for. Just let us know when you're ready to leave."

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