Page 21 of Beneath the Scars

"Yeah? Know some kind of anti-asshole tricks that will cure him?"

My surprised laughter fills the car, and I'm rewarded with her stunning smile. Without thinking, I reach across the car and cradle her face, my thumb gently stroking against her scar as I lean over to kiss her.

"If you show up with the asshole, you won't have to wait for him."

She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth and looks down at her hands before peeking at me from under her lashes. "You sure you want to do that?"

"Oh beautiful, nothing would make me happier."

My hand still holds onto her face, so I bring it closer to give her another kiss. Before I can deepen it, the window next to us opens again, and another awkward teen leans out and hands me our food.

When I hand the paper bag to Lily, she rubs at the scar where I was stroking it and stares out of her window in deep thought.

"Everything okay, beautiful?"

She smiles at me, an unknown emotion still filling her eyes. "You don't ask," she says inexplicably.

"I don't? About?"

"My scar. The way you act is almost like you really don't see it. And you don't ask how I got it or why I haven't had it fixed."

Her words shoot straight through to my heart. I'm not an idiot. I know how fucked up people can be, but it doesn't make it easier to know that life has been cruel to Lily. This conversation is a good reminder that I have to be extra careful with how I handle her.

"You'll tell me when you're ready. Or you won't, and that will be fine too. It doesn't matter why you have it. All that matters is that you're here with me now. Now, the more important question is. Do you mind eating before walking into a possibly gruesome crime scene?"

My question breaks the tension, and she smiles at me before digging into the paper bag to unearth our food.

Chapter Eighteen

Byron

Themessageleftforme in the latest victim—one Mr. Dirk Wallace—is even more fucked up than the previous one.

Nothing else has changed. He's been tortured, brutalized, castrated, and silenced. He, too, was killed exactly in the same way Aaron Butler was.

From the note left by The Cat, our newest victim has been stealing from the non-profit organizations he heads up.

The crime scene is exactly like the previous one. On the surface, everything looks the same as all the ones before that, but once again, something feels off. I still need to figure out what about Aaron Butler's house doesn't match up, but considering the change in MO I'm sure that thereissomething different. I just need to find it.

Chief Hinds also phoned again to let me know Jones will be arriving later today, and as relieved as I am for the backup and extra set of eyes, I wish he hadn't sent Jones.

It's taken me a long time to find my place in the bureau and even longer to settle in with my unit. I work hard and pull my weight—more in some cases—but no matter how hard I try, there is always some level of skepticism when it comes to some of the agents due to my past. And with Jones, that level is pretty high. He's old school, and to add to the mistrust, he had a hand in some of my past.

More than anything, though, even though I've been upfront with Chief Hinds about Lily and even went so far as to disclose a physical relationship with her, I know Jones will have an issue with that, too. Especially considering the stalker’s note on her door. He's just the kind of guy to go and blather about everything in my history to her. Obviously, I plan on telling her everything, but this thing between us is new, and I don't want to scare her away so soon.

Jones's plane arrives at eight tonight, and he will grab a cab to the hotel. He'll either head straight to my room or crash for the night.

Please, can he just crash? One more Jones free night would be perfect.

"Case giving you trouble?" Lily asks from her spot on the bed. She's working through the last of the autopsies I'd sent her, and the cute glasses perched on her nose has me smiling with fondness at her. "Yeah. But my current frown is for the agent showing up tonight to help me with it."

She shuts her laptop and places it on the bedside table before crawling over to me, her new position allowing her shirt to gape open, gifting me the most delicious view.

"You don't like him?" she asks, her words laced with worry. "Is he a bad guy?"

She gets off the bed, and I pat my lap in my chair at the small table we've been using for our meals. Lily chooses to straddle my lap, her soft, warm core matching up with my hardness perfectly.

"No," I say, shaking my head as my fingers dig into her hips, holding her still. "He's a good agent. One of our best. But he doesn't like me and doesn't mind letting me know every step of the way."

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