Page 124 of Beautiful Scars

Chapter 8

MEISIE

When a key rattles in my door, I sit up with a smile, grabbing the remote control from the nightstand to mute the volume on the television. “You’re early!” I call out. “It’s still light outside, even.”

But it’s not Kill on the other side. It’s Cole.

My stomach takes a fucking swan dive when he steps into my room, glancing around like he’s never seen the place.

Cole runs a hand through his already mussed hair. He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday—the splotches of dried blood on his white shirt have stiffened and turned a dull crimson. Bloodshot eyes and a bruised face end their scan on me.

Did he just wake up? The thought brings a plague of goosebumps.

“Looking forward to your wedding then, Meisie?”

The way he says my name, it’s as if he’s calling me a little girl instead. I’d get that time-to-time back in South Africa, back where people usually knew the meaning of my name. But never in Scotland. Not until now.

“What do you want?” I ask him, slowly pulling away the covers so they won’t tangle around my legs if I have to run. It’s silly, I know, but something’s telling me that might be important in a minute or two.

It’s something about the way he hovers by the door. The way his arms hang at his sides. Calm, but vigilant.

“Just making sure you’re comfy.” He walks deeper inside, but instead of making me feel better, now it’s as if he’s invading my space. Which is fucked up considering this is my cage. He pulls open a dresser drawer. “Got enough to wear.” He goes over to the window. “Got enough to eat.”

I flinch when he turns suddenly to me, eyes wide. “Are you hungry?”

I shake my head. God, but it’s unsettling looking at him, especially with the burst blood vessel in his one eye. How the hell do I get him out of here without pissing him off? Because I saw him pissed off, and I don’t need any of that shit in my life right now. Especially since I have no idea if Cillian’s even still around. He usually leaves during the day.

The thought that I might be alone with Cole makes my skin crawl.

I open my mouth, probably to say something that would infuriate him to the point of wanting to strangle me, when Sarah walks in.

“Cole? What are you doing here? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She sends me an apologetic smile. “He’s still a bit drowsy from the meds.” She slips her hands over his shoulders and steers him to the door, glancing back at me and mouthing, “Sorry,” just before she takes the corner.

Drowsy from the meds? He looked perfectly fine to me. Then again, she was able to lead him out of here like a lost sheep...

Wait a minute. What the hell is Sarah doing back here anyway?

I shake my head as I lean back against my heap of pillows again. It takes me a good few seconds too long to realize she left my door open, but when I do, I’m up like a fucking jack-in-the-box.

* * *

I find Cillian’s room a few minutes later. It has to be his, because it wouldn’t make sense for him to be sleeping in Cole’s room, right?

I stand on the threshold like a full out stalker creep, watching his shoulder rise and fall in the light shining in from the hallway. He’s on his side with his back to me, a sheet pulled up over one hip. From this angle, it looks like he’s naked.

It shouldn’t, but the thought makes me salivate.

Oh God, Iama creep.

I walk silently over the carpet, forgoing the temptation to slide onto the bed behind him. I don’t want to wake him—if he’s still sleeping then it either means he hasn’t gotten any rest yet, or he desperately needed a few extra hours.

So I stand at the far corner of the bed, admiring the muscles on his back and how his dark hair contrasts with the pale sheets.

If it wasn’t for him, Sarah would be dead.

I knew that last night, and somehow, seeing Cole, I now know it for a fact. He saved her life, but as if it was nothing. Then again, it was his own brother, so maybe he’s used to it. Maybe this is a regular thing.

God, how can you still love someone if they put you through shit like that all the time? The things Cole said? I mean...Kill explained about their childhood, but I was a single child, so I guess it wouldn’t make any sense to me. I’ve never felt that way about anyone—ready to defend them regardless of how badly they fare at being a decent human being.