Page 29 of Scar

The jocks at that school silenced a young woman and scared her until she quit college. "She was pre-law. Her grades were exceptional, and as far as I can see, she was well loved on campus. They're going to pay for what they've done, petite fleur." He tells me. I nod. What else can I do? I'm not a killer, I won't even eat animals! But these men ruined someone's life and have gotten away with it! Not anymore.

Leon loads up the other three men while I stay in the car. I hate to admit that I feel better knowing the guys won't tell all of campus what they saw tonight, I also feel better that they won't be able to hurt anyone else ever again. Is it sick that I feel like this? Am I as much of a monster as Leon? Even if I'm not currently, I agreed to help him. I'm an accomplice.

When Leon gets back in the car, I'm so distracted that I jolt when he touches me. "It's okay, ma fleur. You don't have to help me." He says calmly. I feel his thumb stroking my knuckles as he drives, and I don't know if what he says comforts me or makes me mad. Does he not think I'm capable? Wait, do I think I am? I don't know if I am.

"How many times have you done this?" I ask instead of commenting on his statement. There's silence for a minute, for far too long. The silence hangs between us, making the air tense and uncomfortable, but he links our hands together on the center console. "These guys will bring me up to 31." He answers. I think I just stroked out. Is this what a stroke feels like? Do I smell toast? No, I'm just losing my mind. Stop being dramatic, Maeve. Thirty-one kills? "Does that include your mom?” I say quietly, not sure why it makes a difference. It doesn't. "No. She would be thirty-two." He answers immediately. Okay, I had sex with a murderer. Why don't I care about that? Why aren't I disgusted with the thought?

"You okay, ma fleur?" Leon asks me. He effectively snaps me out of my panic, making me turn to face him. He's still somehow the same gorgeous man that was nice to me at the supermarket. He's still the same gorgeous man that was in front of me in line at the cafe. He's still the man who took care of me after I was glutened. But he's also still the same man that tied me up and kidnapped me, still the same man that tackled me in a field and stole my virginity, still the same man that put a shock collar on me like a caged pet. Why am I so conflicted? Iwant to want tobe away from him. I want to be disgusted by him,I want to wantto run. But I don't. I don't want to run, I don't want to be away from him.

I just want a life outside of the walls of his home, with him. Crap, I think I love him...

Chapter 40

Leon's POV

I need to get Maeve situated in bed. She is my priority, I have to make sure she is feeling okay. I know she was upset about being put on a leash today, I know I humiliated her and broke a bit of her faith in me. But I also know she is feeling torn about our guests of honor currently strapped onto tables in the basement. So I need to talk to her about all this, but not right now. Right now, I just need to make sure she's feeling alright and that she's able to rest. She walked into the house as if she were on autopilot, she didn't look around, she didn't say anything. She simply stripped all of her clothes the second she reached our bedroom and took a shower without a word.

I wait patiently on the bed for her, ready to help her when she comes out. I even sat some pajamas on the sink for her since she seemed to have forgotten to grab them. As soon as she opens the bathroom door, she looks very torn on how she is feeling. Like she's not sure how she should feel, I get it.

I open my arms for her, offering her to walk into my embrace, which she does. She walks up to me until she's standing between my legs, letting me pull her flush into my chest and wrap my arms around her. "You feeling okay, ma fleur?" I ask calmly. I rub my hands along her back as I hold onto her. She has her arms tightly around my shoulders, and her face tucked into my neck. "I don't know." She says quietly.

My poor girl.

I kiss her temple and rest my head against hers. "It's okay, petite fleur. I know this is confusing. But we're okay." I promise her. She keeps her face tucked into my neck, and honestly I'm loving that she's seeking me out for comfort. "How do you know you're not going to get caught?" She asks me quietly. "I've been doing this for a very long time, sixteen years to be exact. I can promise you, we're safe. But you don't have to get involved in any of this. I just needed you to know who I am."I explain. I'm somehow even more nervous about this than I was about my leg and my chest.

Maeve picks her head up from my neck, holding onto my shoulders as she stares at me. "I want to help. I think. They're bad men. They don't deserve the chance to do this to anyone else." She tells me. Frankly, I'm caught off guard. I figured at most, she'd sit back and ignore what I do, not that she'd willingly participate. But I'm sure that will change when she sees the first sight of gore. Hell, I vomited the first time I killed, when I felt the crunch of my mothers neck in my hands. The police chalked it up to a teenager being traumatized to come home and find their mothers neck broken.

"Are you sure? It's gruesome." I ask her. She's allowed to feel what she needs to feel. She's allowed to back out. But I don't want her to see what I do and be disgusted by me. "If it's too much... Can I walk away?" She asks me. I'm not sure how she wants me to take that. "Walk away?" I ask rather than answer her question. She nods, fidgetingslightly howshe's standing. I know what's coming. She's going to ask if I'll let her go. I don't want to break her heart, but I won't. I can't. I'm far too selfish and far too in love with her. "If it's too gruesome, if I can't help you or even watch you kill them. Can I leave the room? Maybe wait in the car?" She asks me.

The smile that spreads across my face almost hurts to make. That's how bright it is. I settle my hands on Maeve's waist, pulling her back into me until our faces are close enough that I can feel the cool air from her minty breath on my face. "Yes, you don't have to help. You never have to watch, I just need you to know what kind of guy I am. But if you're asking if I'll ever let you go, I can't. I'm in love with you, and I'm far too selfish to be without you." I say honestly.

I feel her hands holding onto me, one in my hair and the other on my back. "I don't want you to." She answers. That truly wasn't what I was expecting.

I don't think I've ever been speechless in my life before, until right now. I just stare at this gorgeous woman in my arms, completely dumbfounded. I know I need to say something, fuck... anything.

But I think my whole brain just froze and now I'm rebooting slower than an old computer with dial-up internet. My girl feels something for me, I don't know what yet, but it's a start. "I never would have. I've loved you for far longer than I'd ever admit." I say honestly.

"How about you lay down for a little while, you've had a long day, and it's late." Itellher. I rub my hands along her ribs, staring into those warm brown eyes and feeling so at home, but my girl raises an eyebrow at me. Either in challenge or confusion, I don't know. "I thought I was going with you?" She asks.

My girl. Fuck, I love her. "You are, ma fleur. But not right now. They're asleep anyway, I won't touch them until they've woken."I explain. It's boring to kill them while they're passed out, I want them to feel it all. I want them to know that they can't escape their fate, just like their victims couldn't escape theirs. Just like Abby couldn't stop them, they can't escape what will happen to them. "Lay down, I promise you that we can wait until morning to deal with them." I promise. If she wants to be there, I won't let her miss it. Not until we've reached the point that she's uncomfortable.

I finally get Maeve into bed shortly after our talk. I think it surprises us both that she curls up with me, she hangs a leg over my hips, resting it between my legs. Her cold ass toes settle under my leg and I'd rather die right now than to move her, her smug little ass knows it, too. She's grinning as she slides her feet further under my leg once she's stolen all the warmth she can from one spot.

Asshole.

"Do you need some socks, ma fleur?" I ask her, staring down at her while shesituatesagainst me. "Nope." She says with a small laugh, one that she tries her best to hide. She really is an asshole, an adorable one though. I wrap my arms around my girl, gripping onto her thigh with one hand and her back with the other. I should've propped my leg up onto a pillow or something, it feels swollen from the long day we've had. But I won't move her, she just got situated.

This girl is far too good for me, she must have felt me shifting my leg, hoping to ease the pressure and the pain that I'm dealing with. She slides her other leg up under mine, letting me use her calf as a way to prop my stump up. I gotta admit, it almost instantly feels better that I'm not pressed against the mattress and flat. I haven't dealt with pressure sores in at least a decade, probably longer. But I haven't gotten to keep my prosthesis off nearly enough since my girl came, so I'm dealing with a few issues that haven't been issues since my amputation was still fresh.

"Get some sleep, ma petite fleur." I say calmly to her. I kiss the top of her head, letting her settle into me. I don't move, I don't do anything until I hear my girl drift to sleep. I live for the moment that she finally falls into a restful sleep, her entire body going limp against mine.

Chapter 41

Maeve's POV

I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know if I'm willing to watch four people die. But I'm also not willing to live in a world where I know four rapists got away with what they've done and will probably do it again. I guess I'm all in.

Leon treats this like any other morning, which honestly I find infuriating. How is he not stressed, hyped, angry, or anything? Anything! He's pouring me a cup of coffee with the same level head that he would on any regular morning! I'm fidgeting, biting at my nails, curling and flicking my toes, and even picking at my pajamas. I feel anxious, and I can't even explain why. I haven't done anything yet, and I have no obligation to do anything. So why am I so uneasy? Why can't I get the sinking feeling of dread out of my bones?