Page 63 of Born to Scar

“You close at midnight during the week. It’s not that late,” Jay counters.

“Late enough that you’re both asleep when we get home,” I whisper. Forcing my normal voice, I tell them to leave. Mik is here, and I’ll be fine. They don’t go. They don’t know, or maybe they do, but their stubbornness means so much to me. More than they could ever guess.

As I clean up and close the bar down, Mik waits. He’s not required to stay after closing, but he does. He’s done it since his first day. He’s always waited for me to close and lock the doors. Most times, he would ride home with me before going home himself. That was before he started staying with me.

Tonight, Mik and I ride home with Jared and Cam behind us. But we can’t keep doing this. Once parked, I turn to face all three and shake my head. “This isn’t sustainable.”

“I always do this.” Mik shrugs.

“Yeah, Mik, I know. I meant them. But even you, you don’t have to, either.”

“I’m going to,” he deadpans. I didn’t think I’d change his mind anyway.

“Indy, we need to make sure he doesn’t come near you for now. He’s dangerous.”

“I fucking know that, but you can’t do this,” I snap. “You both have jobs you need to be at this morning. You can’t stay with me all the time.”

“You don’t understand, Indy. He is really fucking dangerous,” Cam grits.

CHAPTER 27

JARED

Cam is about to ruin everything he’s been working on because Indy is so fucking headstrong. She doesn’t want our help. She doesn’t want anyone’s help. I get it. I do. I understand the reason she’s the way she is—but fuck if it’s not infuriating.

It’s time he told her anyway. Ken has uncovered so much. It’s incredible that the man is still alive, let alone not rotting in prison. But we need a better way of telling her. He can’t let everything slip in a fit of anger. It will kill her.

My gaze finds his in a glare. “Cam, no.” He nods. Good. Even he knows he can’t do this yet.

I pull the box of books from my trunk. To say I’m not interested in them would be a lie, but we’ll do whatever she wants to do with them. Maybe a bonfire.

“What? How do you know he’s so dangerous?” She’s not stupid. She knows something is going on.

Cam sighs. “Look, I’m working on something, and you have to trust me, Indy. There is no other way around it. Only trust, okay?” Her eyes narrow into slits. “I know it’s hard as hell, but please, just this once, baby. Trust me.”

Her shoulders roll away from us as she takes a step back, like his words physically hit her. Her brows knit together, and her nostrils flare. “What the fuck does that mean? I trust all of you.” Mik nods, but Cam and I don’t respond. Her version of trust isn’t the same as ours. Her eyes move between us. “None of this would be happening here”—she points around to us—“if I didn’t trust you.”

“I need more trust than you have ever granted anyone, and I need it without having to explain everything to you. At least for the time being,” Cam begs. She shakes her head and turns to the door. “Stop,” Cam whispers, and for what I believe to be the first time in her life, she stops.

Her body is tense, and she doesn’t turn to face us, but she doesn’t move. “This is so painful. Do you understand how everything in me wants to keep walking?” she mutters under her breath.

“Do you trust us?”

She spins to face us with tears streaming down her face. “I’m trying, okay?”

Setting the box down, I clear our distance and pull her in.

“We love you, Indy,” Cam says, standing beside us, dropping a kiss on her head.

“That doesn’t mean trust, Cam. I trust no one except myself. The only person I’ve ever truly trusted is dead and buried.”

My body sags against hers. “Indy, we aren’t going to hurt you,” I whisper, pleading for her to get it.

“You know what he is doing?”

I nod, and she pulls away. “You’re lying to me. Withholding. If you expect me to trust you, you need to trust me, too.”

She turns her back on us, walking into the house, ignoring our protests this time. We give her the space she needs before going upstairs. But she’s not in our bed. Mik’s downstairs, and his door is shut. He never shuts his door unless he’s in there. I bow my head and close my eyes, hoping I’m wrong, before pushing his door open.