Page 44 of Scar Tissue

“Hmm. Depends. Are you gonna do it properly, or half-ass it like you do everything else?”

Instead of answering me, he squirts a generous amount of shampoo into his hands before lathering it through my hair. I don’t even realize I started sighing until he speaks up. “You sure talk a lot of shit for someone who is a puddle in my hands right now.”

“Shut up,” I mumble as he directs me back into the stream ofwater to rinse my hair out. When he’s done, I rotate us so that he’s now in the water, his back facing me as I trace the hard lines of his back with my fingers. From this angle, I’m able to get a better look at the tattoo on his ribcage.

We only part to meet again MHL; 1992-2017

Under the script, as a background, is a gorgeous image of two birds flying in opposite directions. It’s not a large tattoo, but it’s big enough that when I caught it a few weeks ago, I should’ve been able to see its meaning. I guess I was so caught up in avoiding him at every turn, even the first night we spent together, that I didn’t look too closely. Tears fill my vision at the homage he’s paid to my brother. Tohisbrother in every way that matters.

“When did you get this?” I ask, but it’s barely more than a whisper.

He grabs my hand where it rests along the tattoo and pulls me in so I’m hugging his back. “A month after he died. When things started to settle in, I found it harder and harder to not search for him, whether that be in crowds, shadows, dreams…Even though I knew he was gone, it was hard to come to terms with it all the same. So getting the tattoo helped with that. It allows me to keep a part of him with me, always. A reminder that even though I’d lost him for now, I wouldn’t lose him forever.” His voice cracks.

Pressing my cheek into his back, I focus on the steady rise and fall of his chest and the way he holds my hand like he’s afraid if he lets go, I’ll vanish, too. My tears mix with the water, indistinguishable, and I’m grateful for it. After a few minutes, I release my hold on him, only to spin him around, and then I kiss him—slow and sure—trying to relay everything I’ve been too scared to feel.

He doesn’t pull away. I don’t want him to.

Chapter

Twenty-Six

THEA

The past few days have gone by in blissful silence, but I wish I could say the same for our nerves as we’ve awaited the information I’m supposed to be privy to after the charity event.

We’ve done our best to distract ourselves from the wait, whether that’s through working, sleeping, or fucking. Yet, when we’re not doing those things, the tension is palpable. It doesn’t help that Claire is evidently sick of staying here and she hasn’t hesitated to voice it. When we were having dinner last night she addressed the elephant in the room.

“If I’d wanted to hear the sounds of people having sex, I wouldn’t have bothered to escape. Can you twopleasetry and make it not so obvious?”

Nathan had choked on his beer and my eyes had widened in mortification before guilt flooded my system. Because of course that would be a trigger for her, and we’ve been selfish. Before I had a chance to say anything else she continued, “It’s not that I’m not happy for you both, you’ve been tiptoeing around each other forever and that got old, but just try and remember there’s a third personliving in this house. I’m not above requesting different placement. Maybe I’ll go stay with Dylan and Fletcher.”

“Your luck would be even worse if you went over there,” Nathan pointed out, and I hated to have to agree with him. And even though Claire had said she would request different placement, I could see in her eyes that she really didn’t want to. Her hostility has waned with us and she’s gotten more comfortable, even making an effort with Dylan and Fletcher, who have also been beneficial in helping her cope.Hence the reason I’m outside of her door now, knocking. “Claire, can I come in?”

“What do you want?” she shouts, over the sound of her music playing in the background.

“To talk, please.”

I’m afraid she isn’t going to let me in as she doesn’t respond to me. I know she can hear me, though. Just as I’m about to turn and walk away, her music shuts off and she opens the door, stepping to the side. This is the only other time I’ve been in here since we found her curled up in the closet. I stride across the room to the desk chair and take a seat, trying not to encroach on her personal space too much.

“What do you want to talk about?” She crosses her arms, standing in front of me.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. “Listen, we’ve both been here for a few weeks now and while I can tell you’ve gotten more comfortable, we still really haven’t had a chance to…” To what? Bond? Gossip? “I guess I just wanted to apologize again, for the whole…sex thing. We should’ve been more aware and more respectful of how something like that might impact you. I know you’re not a child and you’re not naive to what goes on behind closed doors, but we shouldn’t have been so…careless with it. After everything you’ve been through it was selfish of us. And I guess I just wanted to say that I really hope you choose to stay with us instead of trying to find somewhere else to stay. We—I, have really enjoyed having you around.”

Her posture relaxes slightly as she stares at me, before taking a seat at the edge of her bed. “How can you say that?”

“Say what?” I ask, confused.

“That you like being around me.” It isn’t ire I sense in her response, but astonishment instead. And it’s then that I realize on top of all of her other trauma, she’s never experienced what it’s like to truly be wanted, and my heart cracks.

“Claire…I don’t know you well. And I won’t push you to want the same with me. But I do have an inkling of what it’s like when no one wants you around. Between everything that happened before you were trafficked with your parents, and now, after you’ve come back changed from all the wrong reasons and feeling like your presence is a burden to be tolerated instead of welcomed. I’m not saying any of this out of pity or to be presumptuous, but last night it sounded like you were looking for a reason to leave, and not just because of mine and Nathan’s relationship. Although it was a worthy shot, it would’ve been convincing if I hadn’t seen the look in your eyes.”

Her jaw clenches as she looks anywhere but at me.

“When I say I like having you around, it’s not just because the house is quieter with you in it. Or that my mind is calmer having you here. It’s also because I see the way you watch everything, how you listen even when you pretend to be distracted by other things. I see the way you try to disappear without ever really leaving. Like you are when you spend your days locked up in this room. Someone who tries that hard to take up less space, has probably never been told they deserve to take up more. I’m not trying to compare pain, because yours is yours and entirely valid. But I see you because I’ve been you. Our stories are vastly different, but feeling alone is a universal emotion. When my daughter was born, she was dead.”

I inhale deeply before I work up the courage to continue as she flinches.

“And for the past six months I haven’t felt worthy ofanything.Everything that makes me who I am has made me feel like a failure. Because she was healthy at every appointment until the moment itmattered most. I didn’t know what I did wrong, but I know that my body failed one of its most important jobs. I tried to reason with myself, and sometimes it worked, but when my