Written in the Scars(69)

“Why?” I ask, stopping in my tracks. “I thought it was going good.”

“We hung out last night and today a little. She’s a great girl.”

I nod, an exaggerated up and down, agreeing with him. He laughs at my antics, but the heaviness is back in his eyes.

“She needs someone that is ready to give her a house and a family. That guy’s not me, Elin.”

“He could be you!”

“He’s not,” he laughs. “My life turns into a mess every time I think about trying to make something out of it.”

Huffing, I nearly stomp my foot. “That’s not true.”

“It is. And it’s okay.” His arm goes back over my shoulders again and we hit the stairs to the house. “I’m just the sidekick, the guy that wanders aimlessly around. I’m okay with that.”

He pulls the door open and waits for me to go inside. Before I do, I study his face long and hard. “Everyone has a purpose in life. Even you.”

“I wish I could figure it out,” he groans as I walk by.

“You will. I promise.”

Starting inside, I’m stopped by the sound of a phone ringing behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see Ty’s phone on the lawn chair by the basketball net.

Jogging down the driveway, I snag it. Swiping the screen on, I answer it. “Hello?” I say breathlessly.

“Hello,” a female voice responds. “Is Ty there?”

“Um, who is this?”

“Tell him it’s Nila.”

Red. Instantly, I see explosions of red-hot fury. My hand trembles, almost dropping the phone, as I catch myself from telling her off. Instead, I give her what she wants. I’ll get what I want at the same time—the truth.

“Just a second,” I say, heading towards the house.

Before I hit the steps to the patio, Ty pokes his head outside. He starts to say something, but reads my face first.

“You have a call.” I extend my hand, the phone lying in my palm like a dead fish. “It’s Nila.”

Stepping gingerly towards me, the door shutting behind him, he takes the phone.

“Answer it,” I demand.

“This is Ty.” He listens to the voice on the other side, smiling easily. “Yeah, I’m good. How are you?”

My blood pressure soars sky-high, my body shaking with fury as I listen to him banter so effortlessly with Nila—whoever the hell she is.

“No, I didn’t,” Ty says. “I’ll look for it though.” He turns his back to me. “You’re joking?”

I listen as he whistles through his teeth, taking off his baseball hat and rubbing the top of his head. “Wow, Nila. I don’t know what to say . . .”

“I do,” I mutter. The sound of my voice has Ty spinning around to face me. I glare. He laughs. I flip him off. He grabs my wrist and holds me in place.

“If not, I’ll swing up that way and see ya. I’ll let you know. Thanks for calling,” he says, his voice super sweet. He tosses me a wink as I jerk my hand away from his. “It was good to see you too. Tell your Grandpa thanks again for me.”

As soon as the call is ended, my finger is in his chest. “You lied to me!”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, clearly entertained by my reaction.

“I’m not calming down! She called you. The girl that you didn’t do anything with.”

I start to march to the door, but his arm is around my waist, dragging me into his arms. “Will you stop acting like this?” he laughs. “What’s wrong with you?”

My arms pinned to my sides, I struggle to break free. “You are what’s wrong with me.”

“Tell you what,” he says, resting his head on the top of my head. “Let’s make a deal.”

“I don’t deal with liars.”

“I don’t normally deal with lunatics, either, but I’m making an exception tonight, so I guess you can too.”

The complete lack of fear or frustration in his voice calms me a little. I stop fighting to pull away.

“Let’s go in and have dinner with our friends. Then we can go to bed and I will tell you everything you want to know about Nila Kruger.” He plants a kiss to the back of my head. “And if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you have my cock after we’re done talking.”

“I doubt I’ll want it,” I sigh, trying to not succumb to him.

“There you go, lying again,” he laughs. Swatting me on my ass towards the house, I reach for his hand. He laces our fingers together and we head inside.





TY

Her fingers skirt over the scars on my back, drifting delicately over the raised skin. Her arm is draped over my side, her cheek pressed into my chest, as we lie in silence.