Chapter 11 – Secrets & Scar Tissue
1672 Words
THE NIGHT air was thick inside the dim garage, but warm from the lingering heat of engines that had worked through the day. Jeremiah stood with his hands braced on the metal workbench, jaw tight as the phone’s screen replayed the grainy footage for the third time. Shadows flickered over his face from the hanging lamp above, a harsh contrast against the storm brewing in his eyes.
Behind him, footsteps approached. Light, careful, familiar.
“Jeremiah,” Lily said quietly.
He didn’t turn right away. “Ronan told you?”
“He didn’t have to,” she answered. “You’ve been in here since the video surfaced. Everyone knows what that means.”
He finally lifted his gaze to her. Lily looked smaller in the muted glow, her hair tied loosely, cheeks touched with the faintest color from the cold outside. She held herself together with a kind of shaky composure he recognized all too well.
“Show me,” she said.
Jeremiah hesitated, but she came close enough to brush his arm with hers, a deliberate act that left a line of heat across his skin. He clicked the video again and held the phone where she could see.
A group of men approached the property gates in the recorded footage, their movements tactical and coordinated. One of them stepped out from behind a truck, half in the shadows, the build tall and solid. Enough like someone they knew to make blood run cold.
“Ronan said it looks like Robert,” Lily whispered.
“Looks like,” Jeremiah corrected. “Doesn’t mean it is.”
“You’re not convinced.”
“I want to be sure before I accuse anyone. Especially someone like him.”
Lily exhaled slowly. “Do you think he’d go that far? Attack us?”
“I don’t know,” Jeremiah said. And that was the truth that gnawed at him.
She lowered the phone gently. “You look exhausted.”
He forced a shrug, though fatigue clung to him like a second skin. “Comes with the job.”
Lily stepped closer. “No. This is different.”
He didn’t answer. Her nearness made everything inside him constrict. She reached for his arm again, fingers skimming the sleeve of his shirt.
“What happened to you?” she asked softly.
Jeremiah stared at her hand. “You mean tonight?”
“No. Earlier.” Her voice lowered. “The scar on your shoulder. I saw it earlier when you pulled your shirt off to stop the bleeding.”
He stiffened, caught off guard.
Lily continued, “It looked... deep. Old but painful. You never told me what caused it.”
“Didn’t think it mattered.”
“It matters to me.”
He hated how those simple words punched straight through his defenses.
Without speaking, he grabbed the fabric near his collar and tugged the shirt over his head. Lily’s breath caught the moment she saw the scar—long, curved, pale against tan skin, stretching from his shoulder down across his chest.
Her fingers rose instinctively. “May I?”
Jeremiah nodded once.
Her touch was light, barely there, but it rippled across his nerves like fire. She traced along the edge of the scar, slow, almost reverent.
“It looks like it hurt,” she whispered.
“It did,” he replied.
“What happened?”
Jeremiah inhaled deeply. “Five years ago. A raid on a warehouse. I was covering one of our men. We walked into an ambush. Someone swung a blade at me. I blocked most of it, but…” He gestured at the scar. “Not all.”
She kept tracing it, gentler now. “You almost died?”
“Probably should have.” He held her gaze. “Didn’t.”
Lily swallowed. “Why tell me?”
“You asked.”
“That’s all?”
He stayed quiet.
She stepped closer until there was barely a breath between them. “Jeremiah.”
He felt his resolve slipping. “What are you trying to do, Lily?”
She didn’t look away. “Understand you. You act like you’re made of stone, but you bleed like everyone else.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Try to get inside my head.”
Lily’s voice softened. “Maybe I want to.”
He clenched his jaw. “It’s not safe.”
“That again.” She shook her head. “Everything is dangerous now. Being here, being with Ronan, even breathing feels dangerous. But you’re the only one who keeps telling me the truth.”
Jeremiah exhaled sharply, shutting the phone off and setting it aside. His bare chest rose and fell with controlled breaths that weren’t controlled at all.
“Come here,” she murmured.
He didn’t move, but Lily stepped closer anyway until her chest pressed lightly against his. The contact sent a jolt straight through him.
“Lily,” he warned.
“I’m not doing anything wrong,” she said softly. “We’re talking.”
“This isn’t talking.”
“It can be.” Her hands slid up, settling on his shoulders. “You’re shaking.”
He grabbed her wrists, not pushing her away, just holding her still. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Then tell me.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “If I touch you right now, I’m not stopping at just talking.”
Her breath trembled out of her. “Maybe that’s why I’m here.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, restraint burning like acid. “Lily…”
She rose onto her toes, bringing her lips dangerously close to his jaw. “Tell me why you’re holding back.”
He couldn’t pull away. “Because you’re not mine.”
“Do you want me to be?”
Jeremiah froze.
Her question hovered between them, thick and breathless.
She reached for his scar again, tracing the curve down his chest with slow fingers. He shuddered, his breath unsteady, his hands sliding to her waist before he could stop himself.
“Lily,” he whispered, “if you keep touching me like that…”
She leaned her forehead to his. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
“I’m not.”
His fingers tightened on her waist, dragging her just a little closer, their bodies aligning in a way that made both of them inhale sharply.
“Lily,” he murmured, voice rough, “say something else and I’m going to forget every boundary I put up.”
“Maybe I want you to.”
He let out a low, shaky sound, something between a curse and a surrender. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Then show me.”
His hands slid up her sides, slow and tentative, as if he was memorizing the shape of her. Her breath hitched, and he lowered his head, his lips brushing the shell of her ear without fully kissing her.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered.
“I won’t.”
He let his lips travel down the side of her neck, grazing skin for barely a second before he pulled back with visible restraint. “I can’t take advantage of you when you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared of you,” she insisted. “I’m scared of everything else. But when I’m with you, it stops for a second.”
“Lily…”
“Jeremiah.”
A soft chime echoed behind them. Ronan’s voice carried faintly from outside the garage, calling her name.
She stiffened.
Jeremiah cursed under his breath and stepped back, raking a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself out of the gravity she created.
Lily looked at him with a mix of longing and frustration. “This doesn’t go away when he’s around. You know that.”
“It has to,” Jeremiah forced out.
“Why?” she shot back.
“Because Ronan trusts me.”
“And you care about his trust more than…” Her voice faltered. “More than this?”
Jeremiah’s silence answered for him, though it wasn’t the truth she assumed.
He cared too much. That was the real problem.
Lily’s gaze softened. “I don’t believe you don’t feel anything.”
He looked at her then, raw and exposed. “I feel too much.”
She swallowed hard. “Then what are you afraid of?”
“That I won’t be able to stop if I start.”
Lily stepped close again, but this time she only touched his hand, their fingers brushing lightly. The contact was small but electric.
“Jeremiah,” she whispered. “If Robert is behind the attacks… if he’s watching… if he’s planning something else… I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“You can trust me.”
“Can I?”
His thumb traced her knuckles, slow and careful. “Yes.”
The door outside creaked open, Ronan’s footsteps louder now.
Jeremiah released her hand reluctantly. “Go,” he said. “Before he starts asking questions.”
Lily didn’t move at first. She looked at his scar again, then at his eyes, like she wanted to memorize the moment.
“Promise me something,” she whispered.
“What?”
“That you won’t shut me out.”
He exhaled slowly. “I won’t. Not unless you ask me to.”
Lily nodded and stepped back toward the door. Before leaving, she paused. “Jeremiah?”
“Yeah?”
Her voice lowered to a soft confession. “I’m falling into something I don’t know how to escape.”
He held her gaze. “You’re not the only one.”
Ronan’s voice rang again, impatient. Lily slipped out of the garage, the sound of her footsteps fading into the hallway.
Jeremiah stood alone, chest rising and falling, the ghost of her touch burning across his skin.
The scar didn’t hurt anymore.
But everything else did.
- Writer
