Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(3)



Not surprisingly, Yve still looked as gorgeous as she had that night.

“You can leave, Colson,” I said, giving him a pointed look.

His expression darkened before his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. He’d have to get over it. If she were going to spend tonight in anyone’s bed, it would be mine.

He scowled in Yve’s direction before pushing past me and stalking through the doorway. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Titan,” he called over his shoulder.

My eyes found Yve again. “He bother you?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Did he bother you?” I repeated.

“You’re bothering me.”

I studied the flush coloring her dusky cheeks, and the subtle rise and fall of her chest. “I think you like it.”

“And I think you should follow your friend right out that door,” she shot back. “I’m not interested in what either of you have to offer.” And with that she was gone, heading for the same door that Colson had exited a moment before.

Women didn’t walk away from me. It was completely unacceptable.

I stalked after her.

“I’ll walk you out.” It wasn’t an offer. I was simply doing whatever the hell I wanted, just like I always did.

That laugh with its husky, sexy tone rang through the hallway. “I can take care of myself, Titan. Don’t need a rich man to do it for me.” The door swung open at her touch and slammed behind her.

I paused as the realization hit me. She knows who I am.

Good.

She was going to know a lot more of me.





“MOTHER EFFING CHRIST.” I BANGED my hands on my steering wheel. “Don’t do this to me now, you piece of—” I cut off my words, as if not insulting my car would somehow help the engine sputter back to life. I turned the key again. Nothing.

I popped the hood latch and got out of the car, slinging my purse over my shoulder. In this neighborhood, it might have seemed like a dumb move to get out of the car and bring my purse, but I wasn’t helpless. I was locked and loaded with my .38 Special. Ever since Elle had dragged me to the shooting range with her one night, I’d been hooked on the idea of being able to protect myself. The only question I couldn’t answer was: why hadn’t I done it sooner?

Although if I had, I’d probably be in prison right now.

After propping the hood open like I knew what I was doing, I stared down at the steam rising off the radiator—at least I thought that was where it was coming from. I didn’t know jack about cars. Nope, I was more likely to find vintage Chanel at a roadside antique shop than to figure out what had gone wrong with my semi-reliable Jetta. But my Blue Beast was getting old; she was going on seventeen.

Shaking my head when looking under the hood gave me no answers, I dug into my purse and pulled out my cell phone. I scrolled through the contacts, teeth gritted. I hated asking for help, hated having to admit that I couldn’t take care of my problems myself. But sometimes a girl didn’t have a choice. Cousin Stevie’s Happy Hookers would be a lot cheaper than—

My thoughts were cut off as a sleek dark gray sports car slowed to a stop beside the Blue Beast and me. What I knew about cars could fill a shoebox, but even I recognized expensive when I saw it. The darkened passenger side window lowered as I reached back into my purse, wanting the comfort of my Smith & Wesson in my grip. Just in case.

I relaxed a fraction when green eyes set beneath dark brows pierced me.

“Trouble, Ms. Santos?”

Lucas Titan. The same * who’d landed a cheap shot in Con’s balls, and whose friend thought I looked like an easy pickup tonight.

“I’ve got it handled.”

One dark eyebrow lifted and he pulled away, but he didn’t go far. No, he pulled up and parked in front of the Blue Beast, and his driver’s side door opened.

Great. Just what I need, some rich prick thinking he knows how to handle my business better than I do. Titan gave off that master of all I survey vibe that rubbed me the wrong way on every level. Old habits die hard, and all that.

I looked back down at my cell and found Cousin Stevie’s contact info. Before I could hit the Call button, Titan stood beside me, looking pissed off.

“Why the hell did you get out of your car? It’s not safe. If you break down, you sit your sweet little ass inside, call a wrecker, and wait.”

Oh. Hell. No. If he was expecting me to nod my head like a pretty little doll and follow orders, he was in for a shock. I’d come a long way from the days when I fell in line just because a man told me to.

I spun to face him. “I don’t live my life according to the laws of Lucas Titan, so you can feel free to get back in your car and go on about your night.”

I wasn’t sure what I expected from him, but it wasn’t a deep, rumbling laugh.

“Everyone lives according to the laws of Lucas Titan. You just don’t know it yet.” He leaned in closer until the green of his eyes reflected the interior light of my car, and I could clearly make out the five o’clock shadow shading his jaw. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ll enjoy the hell out of it.”

The combination of the sexy laugh and innuendo-filled words sent shivers through me. I didn’t give a damn about Titan or his cocky attitude. I just needed to get my car on Stevie’s tow truck so he could take it to the shop.

Meghan March's Books