Page 70 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

They left as silently as they came. That morning, I rented a small moving truck online and began packing whatever I could. Two days later, I drove away from the life and career I'd spent almost a decade building.

That was six years ago.

I blink, forcing myself back into the present moment and my Manhattan apartment.

Fuck, I'm going to cry.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip because I refuse to let myself break down again in front of Sean; he's seen enough of my tears.

Clearing my throat repeatedly like I'm trying not to choke on rocks, I launch myself from the couch. I flee to the kitchen and stuff my hands in yellow gloves.

Why would they follow me here?

I did everything they asked. I kept my mouth shut. No one knows who I am.

"Londyn?"

I grab some wipes from beneath the sink and attack an already-spotless counter.

If this is The Director's doing, if he's found me after all this time, what does he want?

Six years of silence. Six years of invisibility. Why now? Why send men to follow me instead of just, I don't know. Finishing what he started?

"Londyn? Hey."

I pause my scrubbing long enough to glance over my shoulder at Sean. He's watching me from the kitchen doorway. I can feel him assessing my state of mind. He gives me space but stays close enough to remind me that I'm not alone.

I have to keep my hands busy, so I move to the dishes in the sink. There's only a mug and a plate, but I scrub them like they're covered in impossible grime.

"I know this is difficult," Sean says after a few minutes of silence. "But I need more information if I'm going to figure out who these men are and what they want."

"I don't know what they want," I whisper, and it's both the truth and a lie.

Sean steps fully into the kitchen, reducing the distance between us. His presence fills the small space, not threatening but impossible to ignore. I can feel the heat from his body, smell the subtle scent of his citrus shampoo mixing with the lavender dish detergent.

What if I leaned into him right now? No prompting, just did it?

How would he react?

How wouldIreact?

"I'm not trying to pry into your personal life," he says, his voice quieter to match the intimate space. "But I need more information so I can protect you."

The word 'protect' echoes inside me, mixing with all the panic threatening to explode from every pore.

He'll protect me.

That settles me slightly but not enough, so I scrub the clean plate harder.

I hear Sean's long, slow inhale before he asks, "Have you had problems with stalkers before you hired me?"

I squeeze the sponge between my hands, twisting it until water drips onto the counter.Drip. Drip. Drip.Like a ticking clock counting down to a confession I'm not ready to make.

I shake my head. "I-I got involved with some bad people," I say. "That's all."

Sean leans against the counter, arms folded across his broad chest. He's deliberately making himself smaller and less imposing. I appreciate that.

"It's important to me that I keep you safe."

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