Page 23 of Scarred Angel

I shouldn’t give a damn who she’s been with, but the thought of someone else touching her makes something ugly twist inside me.

I school my expression before she can read it, reaching for my spoon again, pretending like I’m unfazed. “Good,” I say simply, though it comes out rougher than I mean it to.

She quirks a brow. “Good?”

“Yeah. Recognizing when someone adds nothing to your life and doing something about it is admirable.”

Her smile is faint—thoughtful. But mine doesn’t come at all. Because the truth is, I’m relieved, and I hate that I am.

Valentina leans back in her chair, fingers idly toying with the signet ring hanging from a thin chain at her neck. I know that emblem. Ares.

Mom and Silas have their own, though I haven’t seen them since they retired from the organization. I wonder if they kept them, too…and why she wears her father’s.

“Is that Derek’s?” I ask, nodding toward the dark piece of jewelry.

“It is.” Her thumb brushes over the emblem. “I found it years ago and begged him to tell me about his time with Ares, about the blood oath. Then I asked to keep it. Been wearing it ever since.”

“Why?”

“It’s a part of him,” she says with a small shrug and a wistful smile. “Of who he was. It carries his past, the good and the bad. And it’s the reason I’m here.”

She knows exactly what that ring represents, the ghosts bound to it, and still speaks of it with a kind of reverence. No doubt Valentina’s cut from a different cloth. The thought makes my pulse run hotter, and I can’t help but wonder if she’d feel the same way about the blood on my hands. And why do I want her to?

Eight

VALENTINA

Two Weeks Later

“Are you going to be this quiet all night?”

Remi drums her nails on the steering wheel as the light turns red, her eyes flicking toward me in question. I’m not trying to be cryptic, I just don’t know what to say. Between being sidelined with this damn cast, canceling races for the next few weeks, and whatever the hell is happening with Maksim, my head’s a mess. I can’t think straight.

“No. I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind,” I say, glancing at her before turning back to the window.

Not racing makes me cranky as fuck, sure. But if I’m honest, that’s not what’s eating at me. For the first time, something else has taken priority.Someoneelse.

I’ve spent the last two weeks with a man I used to see as family—but that connection’s long gone. Two weeks of tension. Fourteen days of breathing the same air, doing everything I can to touch him without making it obvious. Of dancing around the feelings I know I shouldn’t be feeling.

And yet every time he leaves, when things go quiet, my mind drifts where it shouldn’t.

Because all I can think about is how it’d feel to climb into his lap and taste how sweet my favorite cereal would be on his lips.

“I can imagine. I know all this sucks, but that’s exactly why I’m dragging you out here tonight. You need fresh air?—”

“Did you already forget what happened the last time you said that to me?”

“Shit. I take that back.”

With a laugh, I twist to face her, debating whether to let her in on my secret. Normally, I’d never skip a vent session with Remi, but I decide to keep this mine a little longer. After all, my emotions are a mess, clouding my thoughts and judgment. Maybe when I’m fully functional and out of this cast, the novelty of his return will fade, and this crush along with it.

Sure, I’ll roll with that.

“You’re right. This is exactly what I need. Just a fun night, out with the girls, the sweet smell of exhaust and burnt tires in the air. Doesn’t get any better than that.”

I roll the window down, close my eyes, and let the night air tangle through my hair as we hit the highway.

“Keep your hands inside the ride, princess,” Remi warns, a wicked grin curving her mouth, then the engine roars, tires screaming against the asphalt.