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“I understand,” she whispers.

“You have to promise you’ll stay away from me when I’m like that. I’d never hurt you intentionally, but when I’m not in my right mind, I could be too fucked up to see reason. I could kill you. If I ever lose it like that again, you have to fight back as if your life depends on it. Because it will. If I could stop the nightmares from happening, I would. But I can’t. And because of them, I’m dangerous. Too dangerous. I’d rather die than ever hurt you again, but you have to be careful. Next time, you might not be able to stop me.”

“I know you’d never hurt me intentionally. That’s not who you are,” she says in that gentle, melodic tone that soothes my soul and makes me feel safe. It’s the same tone she used last night to help me calm down. “But, Scar, you need to deal with whatever’s causing those nightmares.”

She has no idea what she’s asking me to do. I can’t talk about the past. I’ve never talked about what happened at Blackstone’s. Even Nina doesn’t know the details. I’ve never let anyone get close enough even to consider talking about it. However, a small part of me wants to tell Julia everything. It’s the strangest feeling. I haven’t felt safe enough before, but there’s something about Julia that makes me want to confess everything. I don’t know what to make of it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Julia asks softly.

I shake my head no.

“That’s okay. Just … talk to someone. Okay?”

“You’re a good person. Max is lucky to have you watching out for him.” My voice is barely a whisper because I’m too busy trying to control my racing heart. Fear keeps me from opening up about my past. The fear of what she’ll think when she learns the truth about what Blackstone did to me. That’s what’s keeping me from spilling my guts. I don’t discuss my past with anyone. I’ve avoided talking about it for years. Why start now?

When she inches closer, I give her a warning look, but she ignores it. She moves so that her thigh presses against mine. Any closer, she’d be in my lap, which is exactly where I want her. It’s all I can do to stop myself from reaching for her and dragging her onto my cock. Fucking is the best way to blot out the pain. If she knew that, she’d stay far, far away from me.

“I became a nurse because I wanted to help people, especially kids. They can’t always protect themselves. They need advocates,” Julia murmurs.

“I wish I’d had someone like you in my life back when—” I clamp my lips together.

“You can talk to me,” she whispers.

She raises her hand, hesitating for a second before resting it gently on my back. After letting out a shaky breath, she rubs slow circles across my scars. For some reason, it doesn’t hurt. It feels … good. Comforting. Like she truly cares. Which I think she does. She has the heart of an angel. Otherwise, she wouldn’t risk her career for Max. She’s far too good for someone like me.

“If you want to tell me about your nightmares, I’m a great listener,” she says softly.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“It’s … too much.”

“Talking to someone can make it easier. I promise I won’t repeat anything you tell me.” Her eyes are mesmerizing. I can’t look away. She’s compelling me to open up to her, and I can’t stop myself from falling under her spell.

“Before I tell you anything, I need you to promise me something,” I say.

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t leave.” I take her hands in mine and hold them tightly. “I can protect you. I want to protect you. I need to do this. You’re the only person willing to stand up for Max. No one else stepped up, but you did. If I’d had someone like that in my life when I was younger, it would have changed everything for me. Everything. You can’t even begin to understand how much I need you to stay. I have to protect you and Max, and you have to let me do it.”

“Oh, Scar.” She wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me down to her. I sink into her embrace and bury my face in her hair. “I won’t leave.”

I nod but can’t speak. My throat is so swollen I can hardly swallow. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but I feel so safe with her. Safe enough to tell her every horrifying, dark secret. But how can I when I don’t know where to start? How can I explain it to someone who wasn’t there? How can I describe the pain, the fear, the terror? I don’t know if I have the words to do it. And even if I did, would I be able to live with the knowledge that someone else knows everything about my twisted past? I swore I’d never talk about it with anyone, so why the hell am I considering telling her the whole, ugly truth?

She traces her fingers over the unblemished skin on my forearms before slowly sliding her fingers under my shirt. She finds the edge of a scar, and her hand stills.

“How did this happen?” she asks softly.

I part my lips, but I can’t get a single word out. She wants to open Pandora’s box, but I don’t know if she can handle it—if she can handle me. All of me. Every dark corner of my heart. Because I want to expose it all, but I’m afraid she’ll never look at me the same way once she hears my story. It’s beyond what most people can handle.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” she murmurs.

“I …”

“Shh. It’s all right.” She holds me close, pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of my neck. A shiver of pleasure ripples through my body. It would be so much easier to push her into the sheets and silence her questions with passionate kisses. So much easier. But she deserves to know the truth about me.

“I’ve never told anyone before,” I confess.