Page 4 of Beg for You

I’d come here for a reason. This wasn’t some whim I’d woken up with this morning. I needed to do this, for me, for the life I planned to build for myself, the life I wanted to start. And for the past I was determined to leave behind, so desperately it was a constant knot in the pit of my stomach.

You can do it, Cassy. My brother’s voice echoed through my head, encouraging me to take the risk like he had many times before everything fell apart, before the accident.

No, it wasn’t really him talking, but that niggling voice in my head was right.

No one would make me feel guilty, or inadequate, or less than ever again, not Mr. Blue Hair who’d judged me as soon as I walked in here, and not this intimidating wall of man muscle staring at me expectantly.

I held his gaze, lifting my chin. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. “A friend of mine said you specialize in covering scars?”

He didn’t flinch or even blink as his gaze slid over me, like he was trying to see right through my clothes to where I hid the marks on my body. “Yeah.”

Don’t chicken out. “I’d like to get some work done, and—”

“Botched plastic surgery, huh?” Mr. Blue Hair said, still standing at the counter, that smirk firmly back in place.

Anger shot through me so fast I felt dizzy from the spike of my blood pressure. I didn’t deserve that. I was done letting people treat me like shit because of who I was, where I lived, because I looked the way I did. Especially this kid who knew nothing about me.

Cal’s expression turned thunderous, and his head twisted to the younger man before I could open my mouth. “What the fuck did you say?” he growled.

I felt it in the pit of my stomach…lower.

Blue Hair shrugged. “Come on, Cal, look at her—”

“I was burned…in a car wreck,” I said.

The room went silent, deathly so.

The younger man paled. “Shit. I’m sorry…I—”

“Out,” Cal said to him, voice lower than before and full of so much aggression and rage, even I took a step back.

“Cal, man…I’m—”

“Warned you, Dane.” Cal pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out.”

The younger guy stiffened, then he walked around the counter, and after cursing several more times, left. The bell above the door jingled as it shut behind him.

I turned back to the wall of muscle across from me. “You didn’t need to do that.” The boy was rude, sure, but firing him seemed a bit extreme.

Cal walked to the door, slid the lock, flipped the sign to closed, then turned back to me. He took a slow breath and his jaw worked. “That idiot was my brother.” Another breath. “He’s gone. Until he learns not to run his mouth.”

“Your brother?”

He dipped his chin and that stare turned probing. It unnerved me.

“Oh…well, I…” My eyes darted to the bolted door. Were we alone? My flight instincts heightened. I wasn’t completely sure why I had the sudden urge to run. I swallowed audibly and looked back at him.

“I look like a monster,” he said, reading my thoughts, eyes getting hard. “I don’t act like one.”

“Of course, I would never think…” I shook my head, not sure what to say. I’d offended him.

He kept distance between us when he walked back, and I felt ashamed of the way I’d reacted. I, of all people, knew what it was to be judged by appearances.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” I knew what I wanted. And something about the man in front of me made me feel…okay. Mainly he made me feel off balance, but suddenly, despite the way I reacted to him, he also made me feel…safe. That I was in safe hands. How could that be?

There was a tension sliding through my body I didn’t know what to do with, had never experienced before, and it got more intense every time Cal looked at me.