Page 42 of Scar

Maeve and I’s DNA being in this apartment make sense since Maeve is friends with everyone in the house and used to be on the lease. We’re covered. The bat has even been scrubbed clean and placed in Sean’s room alongside several other baseball bats and sports equipment.

Luckily, as I searched the house, I found several things that could prove that these three are terrible people. Sean had drugs in his room, Shelby had videos on her phone of several attacks, and Carlie had text messages saved laughing about their actions in a group chat.

I know the cops will find all of this and assume that it was a former victim of theirs or a family member of a victim getting revenge.

“Is there anything else you need from us tonight? My fiance is pregnant and it’s getting a little late.” I say calmly to the officers. I put my hand on Maeve's stomach, my thumb stroking her through her shirt.

This part isn't an act, I really am concerned about her, she's exhausted and in shock, but it also helps paint the picture that we're not psychotic. I see the female officer even “awe” very quietly. Yep, we’ve got them right where we want them. There is no chance in Hell that we are a suspect for their murders. But if we end up on their radar, I know how to handle it. “No, if you think of anything that may help us, please give me a call.” The officer says, handing me his business card. I nod, reciprocating the gesture by handing him my card. “Same for us, if we can help in any way, please let us know.” Ilie.

Maeve lets me get her situated in my car, squatting down in front of her in the passenger seat. I stroke my knuckles down her cheek lightly. “How are you feeling?” I ask her calmly. My girl nods, keeping her hands on her lap.

That won’t do, I need to know how she’s feeling. This is far beyond what happened with the guys. She didn’t just watch me torture them, she personally killed them. Not that I will ever remind her of that, no I will take all the blame if it helps her. Or we can simply never speak about this again.

I grip onto her chin gently, tilting her face until she has to look at me. “I need you to talk to me, ma petite fleur.” Isaytoher.My girl breaks my heart with the look she gives me. “Am I going to get us sent to prison? I don’t want to go to prison.” She says quietly.

I pull Maeve into my chest, hugging onto my gorgeous girl. I smooth my hand through her hair, not even remembering or caring that there's blood on my hands from pretending to revive Sean. But it did let me get some aggression out by cracking his sternum and a couple of ribs to make it look like I really tried to save him.

I don’t care about the blood I'm running through Maeve's hair, I’ll fucking bathe every inch of her when we get home. Happily. “No, my love. We are not going to prison, I have it handled.” I promise her. I feel her huff out a sigh, laying her head on my shoulder. I tighten my arms around her when she sighs, rubbing my hands along her back to calm her down. “I’ve got us, ma fleur. We’re fine. I promise you, everything is fine.” I say quietly to her. She nods against me, but leaves her face tucked into my neck and her arms tightly around me.

"I want to go home.” She mumbles into my neck. I’m grinning like a fool, my girl finally sees our home as home. I’m hoping by the way she’s clinging to me that she sees me as her home as well. "Marry me." I blurt out before I can stop myself.

I already know what answer I expect, but it doesn't hurt to ask, I guess. "When?" She mumbles into my neck. I bark out a laugh, kissing the side of her face. "Whenever you want." I promise her.

I'd drag her ass to Vegas right now if she'd let me. "I'm not busy tomorrow." She says quietly. Fuck, I am so in love with her. If I hadn't just fucked her senseless and bruised her ass in every shade of purple that exists, I'd fuck her the second we got home. But I know she needs a little recovery time after that.

Epilogue

Leon’s POV

Seven Years Later

I sigh, glaring at the man on my table. He’s crying more than he’s explaining himself to me. He hasn’t explained anything in at least ten minutes. “Matthew, you need to explain yourself before things get worse for you.” I say with a huff.

My patience is wearing thin, Maeve has been gone for a week. It’s ruining my mood more than this man's pathetic crying and begging on my table. “Please don’t kill me!” He cries. I slam my hand down on the table, huffing in frustration. “Shut up!” I yell, interrupting his pathetic crying. “Explain what happened with Emily. Now.” I say sternly.

Matthew goes on, babbling and crying, while explaining that he was leaving a bar when he saw Emily, my patient. He said she was so beautiful that he had to get to know her, so he approached her while she waited for a taxi.

He explains how he tried to get her to give him her number, but she tried to get away from him. He actually sounded sorry as he cried and babbled on. But I know that he’s not, I’ve read the police report, I’ve heard Emily’s perspective of things, and I’ve even overheard this asshole laughing about the whole event with his friends. No, he's not sorry about hurting Emily. He's sorry that he's strapped to a table and is going to die.

Matthew's storytelling is interrupted when I hear a knock at the door. I pull out my phone to check the camera, smiling when I see it’s Maeve. I rush to open the door, wrapping Maeve in a tight hug the second the door is open. She even kicks the door shut behind us. “I missed you!” She says happily.

I breathe in the beautiful scent of my girl, blueberries and lavender. Fuck, I’ve missed her so fucking much for the last 8 days. “I’ve missed you, ma fleur.” I say into her hair. I lift my girl up to my height, one hand around her waist and the other I hold onto her hair. She wraps her legs around my waist, clinging to me tightly. "I love you!" She says happily. Fuck, I've missed that. I've missed hearing her voice when it wasn't on a phone call. "I love you." I say back to her.

I move to sit on the stool in the room, Maeve in my lap since she refuses to unravel her legs from my waist. “Tell me about your trip, ma fleur.” I insist. Matthew bursts out a violent sob, breaking my moment. "Do you mind? I haven't seen my wife in over a week." I say with a huff.

Maeve doesn't even wait for Matthew to say anything, she just starts to explain her trip.

She was in Maryland doing an evaluation on a business that wanted to be a more sustainable company. She explains that the company still had many things that needed changing before she was willing to certify them a green company. But that she will not be making another visit to that company, she says that when they email her and say they are ready for another evaluation, she will send one of her associates.

I’m so proud of my girl for having workers under her. I’m so proud of my girl for being so successful and respected in her field. I fall more in love with her every single day.

Maeve holds onto my face, her hands holding onto my jaw while she asks me how my week has been. I go into light detail about work, not telling her too much about my patients, not until Emily.

“This man here, well he hasn’t told me what happened yet. But from what I’ve gathered from my newest patient, he curb stomped a nineteen year old girl. She’s needed three reconstructive surgeries so far and it’s looking like she’s going to need at least another two. Her jaw was wired shut for a year and had twenty teeth knocked out.”I explainto mybeautiful wife.

Matthew chokes on blood, turning to look at Maeve as he sobs pathetically. “Please! This man is crazy! He pulled my teeth out! Please help me!” He cries. I know he’s not begging my wife for mercy. I laugh at that, focusing my attention back on her. But she turns to look at Matthew. “Well, I do have to talk to him about something if you’re willing to wait.” She says sweetly. I think she’s trying to get this guy to think she’s going to help him escape.

I love it.