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Tucker’s eyebrows pull together. “Why?”
I set down the glass. “If he was going to freak out, I needed to know. Besides, I’m trying to let myself be more vulnerable. Open up.”
“With people you trust,” Mark says quietly. “You trusted him?”
“I trusted him not to try anything physical. This was a test. For both of us, not just for him,” I add. He’s still frowning. “I talked about it with Linda yesterday.”
“And her advice was to show him your scars?” Tucker’s disbelief is evident.
I shake my head. “She told me it was better to find out now if he would see me differently once he found out.” I drain my glass. “And now I know.”
Tucker shakes his head. “He wasn’t worthy of you, Charlie.”
“There’s only one way to find out, Tucker, and I didn’t need to get attached if this wasn’t going to pan out.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t handle it well.”
I sigh heavily. “He gasped and jerked his hand away. He never said a single word, not one. But he looked at me like –” I take a deep breath and meet Tucker’s eyes. “Like I was a monster.” A lump builds in my throat, but I won’t cry, not over Blake.
Tucker places one hand on mine, squeezing slightly. It’s the first time he’s touched me since I was taken, and though I’m startled, I’m not afraid. His expression is fierce. “The only monsters were the ones we put down.” He looks away. “Goddamned bastards,” he growls.
My heart swells with affection for Tucker. I love him like a brother, and I want to let him past my protective walls the way Willow encouraged me to, but I don’t know how. He’s already part of my daily life, and he’s definitely seen the worst of me.
Almost.
I’ve never let Tucker see my scars. The only people who’ve ever seen them, aside from the medical professionals, are Lila and Mark. And Blake, though clearly, that didn’t go well.
Tucker’s right. Blake wasn’t worthy.
But he is.
I meet Tucker’s deep blue eyes in a burst of determination. “Stand up.”
“What?”
I move to stand in front of him. “Stand up. I’m done hiding from someone I trust with my life.” When he stands, I turn away. He and Mark look confused, but Lila gives me a small smile of encouragement.
I draw a deep breath, then lift the hem of my shirt all the way to my neck, baring my back to him while keeping my front covered. My hands stay on my shoulders, tightly gripping the fabric. “I never should have hidden the shameful stuff from you, Tucker.” I swallow hard, and my eyes burn. “It was never that I didn’t trust you. It’s just… I hate my scars, and I hide them, trying to pretend I’m not… broken.” I can barely speak over the lump in my throat.
I hear Tucker’s heavy sigh, so different from Blake’s appalled gasp. His large hands cover mine, loosening my grip to let my shirt fall back into place. He steps closer, pressing his cheek to the top of my head as his arms loosely surround me. It's comforting, not frightening, and I turn and throw my arms around his neck. His big arms fold me into his chest. “You’re not broken,” he says against my hair.
I laugh out loud at his preposterous statement. “You of all people should know how screwed up I am. You’re the one who installed the camera. How many times have you two had to intervene in my night terrors?”
Tucker releases me, and we take our seats. “We installed that camera and intervened when we needed to because you’re determined to kill whoever’s coming for you.” Then he frowns. “And don’t call your scars shameful. They’re nothing to be ashamed of.”
Lila’s violet gaze is steady. “Charlie, you've got to stop defining yourself by your scars.”
I can’t keep the frustration out of my voice. “I don’t have any other choice.”
Her tone turns firm. “Yes, you do. You didn’t have a choice when they hurt you, but how you see yourself is up to you. You’re more than your scars.”
I shake my head. “How I got them may be in the past, but they’re always with me, Lila, always. For the rest of my life, I’ll have tangible reminders of the shit they did. I can repress the memories, bury them, and in time, I might not think about what they did. But the physical scars will never fade. I see them every time I change clothes, every time I shower, and so will everyone else. My scars will always be an issue.”
Mark looks at me, his ice-blue eyes blazing. “So what if you have scars? They’re part of you, but they don’t define you. No one who gives a damn about you will view them as anything but proof of your strength. And the people who don’t? Who cares what they think? And if Blake was too stupid to see that, fuck him. You can do a hell of a lot better anyway.”
Lila looks up from her phone. “Tom’s asking if you need him to come over. His sister can take Maya for the night.”
I smile. “Tell him thanks, but I’m okay. And thank him for defending me, even though punching Blake wasn’t necessary.”
