Page 37 of Scarred Angel

I step in, my hands gripping her shoulders before I can stop myself, needing to feel her, to make sure she’s still here, still breathing. “You never mentioned gunfire. That’s a pretty fucking important detail, Valentina.”

“Because I already have people who worry and go to ridiculous lengths to protect me. I don’t need another.”

She looks away, but I catch her chin, forcing her eyes back to mine. “Isn’t that why you came to me? Because you wanted to feel safe? You said so yourself.”

“That was different.” She jerks her face from my hand, anger flaring in her eyes. “And don’t turn this around on me, Maksim. You followedmehere? Tracked me down? Why?” Her finger jabs into my chest.

“You were fucking with me, weren’t you? There’s no goddamn Theodore, is there?”

Her irritation fades, replaced by a slow smile, like some gotcha moment I haven’t caught up to yet.

“Oh, Teddy is real. But the real question is why he gets under your skin. You don’t even know him.”

“A man who can’t be bothered to drive you, let alone meet you at the curb, doesn’t deserve an ounce of your time.”

She presses closer, her eyes gleaming. “Is that what you do, Maxy? Are you the pillar of a gentleman? Driving your dates, offering curbside service?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” she mutters when I don’t answer.

Valentina scoffs, shakes her head, and turns to walk away.

I should do the same. Let her go. I’ve been gone fourteen years. She didn’t need me then, and she doesn’t need me now.

It’s better this way. End it before it even starts. Kill this thing before it kills me.

The only way off this ledge is down.

But as I watch her disappear into the crowd, on fucking crutches, no less, I feel a pull so strong it cuts through every excuse I’ve fed myself. Logic says walk away. But logic doesn’t win with her. It never did.

I thread through the chaos, eyes locked on the swing of her ponytail as she limps further into the fair.

“Valentina,” I call, loud enough for her to hear. She keeps moving.

Cursing under my breath, I catch her arm. “Valentina?—”

“Let go,” she grits out.

“Not until you tell me why you’re so pissed off. And don’t bullshit me. This isn’t about me showing up here—you were already short with me on the phone.”

She yanks free, her eyes blazing. “Because you’re so damn hot and cold, it’s maddening. I haven’t seen you in two weeks, Maksim.Two weeks.If you don’t want anything to do with me, just say that. It’s been over a decade. I grew up. You did too. I’m not your responsibility to watch or play with anymore.”

Her voice wavers, anger bleeding into something else. “I get it. We’re strangers. But this”—she gestures between us, her breath catching—“this push and pull? I don’t do that. I won’t.”

There’s a fragile tremor beneath her words and her eyes lower.

“You don’t need to feel guilty anymore. I’m fine. Couple more weeks and I’ll be healed up, you’ll be gone. And we can both forget this ever happened.”

“Valentina.” My voice drops. I reach up and clamp my fingers under her jaw, lifting her face until her eyes lock with mine. “Shut the fuck up.”

Fourteen

VALENTINA

With Cole, things were…neutral. Maybe neither of us cared enough to force hard conversations. We let the pieces fall where they were meant to. I’m sure that’s why we lasted so long. It was easy. Easy to stay out of each other’s way. Easy to come to agreements about things that didn’t really matter.

Easy to let go.