Page 56 of Under Your Scars

“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’. “After I got out of high school, I wanted to see the world. My sister moved out here for law school just like you. I came with her, to keep her company and help her out with the bills, you know? We were poor as fuck and with all the studying she was doing, she didn’t have much time to work. I learned through the grapevine that girls make lots of money here, so I convinced her to start working here with me. She…” Kate clears her throat. “She didn’t last long, but the money was good enough for me, so I worked, she studied.”

“And where is she now?”

Kate humorlessly laughs. “Got pregnant her last year of law school. The guy left her, she miscarried and got really depressed. Started doing drugs. Can hardly hold a job. We still live together, but I almost never see her. When I do, she’s high out of her mind.” Kate shrugs. “We’re just not that close anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, handing a drink to a patron with a polite smile that earns me a five-dollar tip.

She makes a face like I’m being ridiculous. “Don’t be. It’s life. I’m happy where I am. I don’t need anyone’s pity. Especially not my friends.”

I smile. “Friends, huh?”

She bites her lip and giggles. “Okay, truthfully pipsqueak, the only reason I like you is because I’m hoping your sugar daddy has a long-lost twin that needs a sugar baby. Because I call dibs.”

I laugh too. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As expected, after my shift, Christian is waiting for me outside the club with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and his hands in his pockets as he leans against his cherry red Ferrari. We stare at each other for a moment, and then I continue walking as if he’s not even there.

“Elena,” he calls after me, and judging by his footsteps, he’s right on my heels. “Elena, stop.” He grabs my arm and I tug it out of his grasp. “Elena, listen to me.”

I turn abruptly and shove him away from me. “Just go!”

“No. Not until we talk about this,” he says, throwing the butt of his cigarette into the street, joining the hundreds of others stuck on the curb.

“Talk about what? You made yourselfveryclear the other night. Leave me alone.”

“What I said at the restaurant, Elena…I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean thatyouwere a mistake.”

With the look on his face, the plead in his voice, I almost believe him.

Almost.

“Yeah, screwing your employee was the mistake. I got it. Well, I’m quitting. Consider this,” I give him my middle finger, “my resignation.”

I can’t help the tears that prick in my eyes.

Christian really did a number on me, didn’t he? He’s got me crying over a fling that went bad because I was stupid enough to believe a billionaire’s honeyed words. He got what he wanted out of me, and left me with nothing but an ache in my chest and bitter longing for a man who doesn’t want me.

It begins to rain, and I throw a small tantrum and stomp my foot. “Now I have to walk home in the rain because of you!”

I would have walked home in the rain regardless—it’s not like he can control the weather—but it feels nice to blame him for it anyways.

I huff and try to shove him off me again, but Christian catches my wrist and tugs me along with him towards his car. “Let me go!” He opens the passenger door and practically shoves me inside, buckling my seatbelt for me. I cross my arms when he slams the door behind him before sliding into the driver’s seat as it begins to rain harder.

He takes a deep, frustrated breath and rests his wrists on the steering wheel. “I’m not letting you out of this car until you talk to me.”

“That’s called kidnapping,” I snap back. “I’m not your hostage.”

He scoffs. “Hostage.” He turns in his seat to face me, and I make an obvious effort not to look at him. He gently grabs my chin with his fingers and forces me to meet his intense gaze. “Elena, I’m trying to communicate with you and you’re throwing it in my face. You won’t answer my calls or texts. You blow me off when I try to see you in person. You’re refusing to look at me. What do you want from me?”

Tears sting in the back of my eyes and I blink them away, pushing his hands away from my face and sinking into the leather seat. “I want you to take me home.Please,” I beg quietly.

The way he aggressively puts the car in drive tells me he’s pissed, but I can’t find it in me to care. I wipe away a stray tear that’s fallen out of the corner of my eye and quietly sniff. There’s a moment where the air goes stale and then Christian sighs.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. What I said…it had nothing to do with you.”

I laugh sarcastically to myself. “It’s not you, it’s me. Right? That’s really the best you can come up with?” I turn my head to finally look at him and he tightens his jaw. My eyes catch on the cut across his lip and the bruise under his eye. “What happened to you?”

“The Silencer.”