Page 42 of Painted Scars
Charlie’s always been my anchor, the hand that reaches for me when I’m sinking. The voice that reminds me to breathe.
“My mom made me a puppet,” she admits softly. “Smiles on cue, tears on demand. Every part was a product. Now? I enjoy relinquishing control in the bedroom, butonlythere. When I choose to.”
I blink, startled by her quiet honesty and admission, when she barely talks about her past, only in glimpses like this. The details of her story may vary, but the damage remains the same. Shame, the hurt, anger, and violation. Stripped of agency, we try to reclaim power where we lost it or had none.
Her eyes lift to mine, warm and unwavering. “Maybe he’s just a fling. A hot mistake in leather. Or maybe he’s the safe way for you to explore your fantasy without being hurt.”
She’s right. This is what I need right now. My dark and delicious is the bridge between fantasy and safety that puts me in control.
I exhale slowly, my chest loosening. “I want that very much.”
Charlie blows gently on my freshly painted nails like she holds me together with lacquer and kindness. “We’re going to find you someone who wants you in the light, not just the shadows.”
I don’t answer. Can’t. Part of me is stuck wondering if the shadows are all I deserve.
CHAPTER 12 - AUGUST
She’s working late again, alone, after I warned her not to. Putting herself in danger like it’s a damn hobby. I had no choice but to intervene and order Grayson to send a false text to her boss, coaxing him to clock off early. Then I had him track the bastard’s hired car to make sure he drove home, courtesy of the bug I placed inside his front wheel well.
Glitter Bomb’s got the audacity to call out my red flags.
Right back at her.
Mercury ties or not, she’s under duress and threat. Just because I quit the force, doesn’t mean the cop in me died. I swore an oath to serve and protect, and she’ll get home safely, one way or another. Tomorrow’s another day. Maybe I’ll get answers, maybe I won’t. Either way, I’ll be watching and waiting.
I’ve been here for over an hour. Wearing the helmet for prolonged periods of time makes my skin itch, and I want to peel it off and scratch. Not gonna happen with the cameras on the building…. even with Grayson deleting footage of me lingering.
I’ve surveilled dozens of women. Protected a handful. Slept with none. Not since I torched my last relationship before it began and left the force. But this one? This woman? My body responds before reason does. The selfish part of me wants her curled against my chest, tethered to my orbit. I deserve that comfort and softness.
As for the Mercury creep who touched her, he lives to see another day. Harming, bribing, or degrading a fellow member of the order is punishable by death or worse. Non-members are fair game and disposable. Being the daughter of Mercury’s leader affords Kate certain protections. Unless… her father allowed it. Humiliation? A warning? I need to find out and evaluate my next move.
Two nights ago, I let my guard down. One filthy text at a time, the vixen cracked the armor I spent years forging, and I came undone with her name on my tongue. Now I’m back in the shadows, pretending it meant nothing. Pretending I’m not the kind of man who burns the world to keep her close.
Last night, she stayed at her friend’s place for a girls’ spa night. Code for scrubbing their pores, sharing feelings, and painting their nails with enough glitter to contaminate a crime scene.
Goddamn. I catch a better look at her through the window. She’s wearing a skirt. Longer this time, paired with mid-calf boots. A turtleneck covers her chest, but the rest invites a stare, and her boss has no shame about it. The way his eyes lingered, the fucker’s lucky I didn’t take a baseball bat to his jaw.
My eyes drop to her legs. Creamy and curvy, made to wrap around a man and never let go. My cock twitches, dragging my thoughts into the gutter, imagining her naked next time, tits bouncing, breath catching.
The need to barge into her office and bend her over the desk sparks every nerve ending. I crack my knuckles and stretch myshoulders to release pent-up energy. She’s a goddamn drug, and I’m already strung out.
I can’t take it anymore and grab my phone and text her.
Me: What did I say about working late?
Kate: Dick boss has gone home. I’m safe and working on something, GD.
I presume GD means Grumpy Daddy.
Me: He touch you?
Kate: No. He’s too scared to look at me.
Me: Good. Let it stay that way.
She steps up to the window, hips swaying, fingers ghosting over her collarbone.
Kate: Where are you? Brooding in the shadows? Did you Drive All Night to Get to Me?
