Scar

I couldn't get to sleep until almost dawn then I woke up right after it still seething in anger, my arm throbbing like it had actually been burned. It's how it is with me.

When something goes wrong, everything goes wrong. Looking up Lynn and giving her the happy news that the guys who ruined her life got theirs was supposed to make me feel better, not worse. But it backfired spectacularly and her rejection has now been added to the endless reel of shit that's gone wrong with my life, which always starts replaying in my mind when more shit goes wrong. Before this, I could at least pretend things could be different between us. Now she's given me her no.

Tinkering with my bike usually calms me, so that's what I've been doing for the whole morning, but it's not doing the trick today.

I bet Lynn expected me to show up at the ranch today.

But for what? So I can get bit by more of her dogs while she plays hard to get? So I can apologize? For what? Kissing her like I know she wanted me to? Deep down she did, anyway. I’m sure of that.

I've been avoiding Roxie since Ice left two days ago, and doubly so now that I know she wants to talk to me about Lynn. But she tracked me down in the garage and is just standing in the doorway like she's expecting me to start talking first. I'd like to just keep on ignoring her until she leaves, but she's the Prez' old lady and I got too much respect for him to do that.

"What’s going on, Roxie?" I ask without looking up from what I'm doing. I expect she'll start by first adding to my bad mood through asking why I didn't ride with Ice like I said I would. I hope to Christ I'll be able to stay civil as I explain that he's a big boy and can take care of himself.

"I heard you visited Lynn Harlow the other day," she says walking into the garage proper.

She's so far along in her pregnancy I sometimes wonder how she even still gets around. I'm also pretty sure she shouldn't be around all these tools I have scattered all over the place, but I guess she can worry about herself.

"Yeah," I say and leave it at that.

"How is she?" Roxie asks, and finds a cleared bit of table to lean against next to me.

"Fine, I guess," I reply and continue doing what I'm doing and not looking at Roxie.

Lynn isn't fine. But I don’t understand what’s really wrong with her, and I’m probably just adding to it by sticking around. Another reason why it’s best I just leave it alone. If only it'd be easier to let her go.

"I knew that it was Lizard who kidnapped her," Roxie says. "I overheard my father talking to someone about it. He was pissed, but didn't think his MC should do anything. But I struggled with the idea of whether I should go to the cops or something with what I knew. I lost over a week of sleep over it."

Was it that much? Lynn lost a lot more than that. I did too. But I'm not gonna start an argument over it with Roxie.

"You were what, sixteen years old? And your father was the president of an outlaw MC that did business with the one that kidnapped her? Seems like you made the right choice keeping quiet," I say instead.

"Put that way, I did, but it still haunted me for all these years," she says. "You saved her, didn't you?"

"Yeah, me, Cross, Tank and Rook got her out. As for saving her…we were a little late for that." I couldn't help adding that, and I peer at her over my shoulder for her reaction. But all I see on her face is sadness. I don't like seeing sadness. I don't like feeling it. Not that I often do.

"At least you got her away from Lizard," she says. "That's a good thing. And she has a life now, which she wouldn't if you hadn't."

I shrug and get back to work, since I don't have anything good to add to that.

"Were you in love with her?" she asks, and I almost run the screwdriver I've been using right through my palm.

The adrenaline of that near miss coupled with the fact that Lynn fucking pushed me away when I kissed her yesterday takes away the last shred of control I have over my anger.

"I liked the look of her, but who didn't?" I snap, throwing the screwdriver at the wall and turning to face Roxie. She flinches, which isn't a good thing, but I'm past caring about offending her. "I know my place in this world, and it ain't with no fucking beauty queen. Wasn't then and certainly isn't now that she's all fucked up by what Lizard did to her. She cares more about animals than she does human beings for one thing, but I'm sure that's not all that's wrong with her. So no, I wasn't in love with her then, and I'm not now. I wasn't made for that kinda thing."

She straightens up from her perch and her face is very hard as she stares me down. Kinda motherly too. But she's pissed right now. "I'm sorry if I offended you, Scar, I spoke out of turn. But I won't be yelled at. If you don't want to talk about this, just calmly tell me so."

"I suppose Cross will wanna have words with me now," I say, not able to stop being an asshole. "That's fine. Send him along."

"I don't need him to fight my battles," she says and really looks like she doesn't right now. I feel myself backing down under that stern look in her eyes. Cross chose a good woman, a strong woman, as his old lady. I guess she has to be, to compete with him. I haven't met many strong women before her, and the ones I did, I just thought were annoying. But not Roxie. She deserves my respect.

"I shouldn't have spoken to you that way," I say, and that's all the apology she's getting. "But my business is my business."

"Yes, and all I wanted was to find out is how Lynn is doing," she says, her face growing softer. "I shouldn't have asked you personal questions. I'd blame the pregnancy hormones, but I'm just a generally nosy person."

She chuckles as she says it and I grin too, since the tension is now gone and so is the edge of my anger.

"Alright, glad we settled that," she says and walks past me, patting my back on the way. "Lunch is in an hour. Ines is cooking, so it should be good."

Ines is Rook's long lost and recently found again lover, and together with Tank and his sheriff's daughter, and Cross and Roxie, it seems all my oldest and closest friends are settling down into domestic bliss. Wanting that for myself never even registered on my radar before, so why am I even noticing it now?

Because of Lynn, that's why.

Back when I first met her was the only other time I thought about being with just one woman. Before that, and afterwards too, I always preferred to keep my encounters with them short and to the point.

But Lynn ain't just gonna fly out my thoughts now, I suddenly realize. She hasn't left them since I saw her again. So I might as well go back to her and see if maybe I didn't just startle her with that kiss last night. She's always seemed to me like a graceful, beautiful doe, so it makes sense that she's just as skittish as one.

Besides, even back when we first met, and I'd go by the diner at least once a day to see her, if not twice, I used to try and convince myself it was pointless to pursue her in any way, since it wouldn't end well. That kinda thinking kept me away for maybe a day or two, but it never stopped me from coming back. When it was on me to save her from Lizard, I went against the then president’s direct order not to mess with the Spawns in any way. I risked my place in the MC, and my life by going against an entire MC with just three guys on my side, but I hardly thought twice about it.

So it's pretty pointless pretending I can stay away from Lynn now that I finally have her all to myself.

* * *

Lynn

I can't remember the last time I got these happy jitters in the pit of my stomach from seeing someone, but they're dancing now like all the butterflies in the world as I watch Scar make his way across the wide open field between the main gate and the kennel, where I've just brought Scrap so he can be with his doggy family.

"You came back," I call out as soon as I think he's close enough to hear me. I suppose some other kind of greeting would've been more appropriate, since I absolutely do not want to lead him on anymore now that I know I can't give him what he wants from me, but I've never been careful about what I said to Scar. I could always just tell him what was on my mind.

"Yeah, I came back," he replies and leaves it at that as he keeps walking towards me.

All my life up until I met him, I've had to be mindful of my appearance, and how I was being perceived. I was born the sweet girl-next-door type, so there wasn't much pretending needed, but with Scar, for the first time, I felt like I could just be myself, say what I thought, do what I wanted. At first, I started talking to him, because he obviously wanted to talk to me, and I felt sorry for him with that awful scar on his face. But it didn't take me long to realize he neither needed nor wanted my pity, and that I really liked his company. I'd only just started figuring out what that could actually mean when we were so rudely interrupted. Too bad there's no way back to those simple times now.

"I'm sorry, but at the same time not, about what happened last night," he says once he reaches me.

I freeze, drawing a complete blank on how to reply. I'm sorry-not-sorry too. But if I say the wrong thing, I could either be leading him on again, or pushing him away again, and I have no idea what the right thing to say is.

"Not sure how much help I'm gonna be though," he says, holding up his arm. "This needed ten stitches, and I figured I’d at least know how to handle the dogs. But clearly not."

His arm is freshly bandaged, and not that this is the time to, but I'm admiring how nicely it follows the curve of his shapely forearm.

"I told you it needed stitches," I chide. "But you knew better."

"I knew it wasn't good, but I wanted to spend the evening with you and not at some hospital," he says, winking at me. I don't get sick to my stomach from knowing what he's implying and imagining it in the worst, most painful and degrading way possible. But I do freeze.

"I shouldn't have kissed you just like that. You even warned me against it," he says. "But impulse control's never been my strong point."

"Maybe if you stayed afterwards, I would've told you I'm sorry for pushing you away like I did," I hear myself say, my whole face heating up so I know I'm blushing. But the heat is thawing my paralysis too.

"Really?" he asks, looking at me sideways like he doesn't believe me. "You looked pretty scared and angry."

Now we're at that point where I could explain all about how I get physically sick just thinking about men touching me, never mind if someone actually did. But I don't want to tell him that, and not just because I doubt he'd understand. I don't want to tell him that because his kiss felt so good and right for the half a second I let myself feel it. So maybe, just maybe, he could still be my way out of the prison of my bad memories. Maybe he could be the one man whose touch I can stand, and maybe I just need a little more time. I know I'm blushing worse than ever from thinking that right now, because sweat is breaking out on my forehead from all the heat in my face. And on top of it, I'm frozen again.

He's still looking at me, and waiting for me to say something. But I have no idea what. I was also always the shy girl-next-door, even though I hid it well up on stage. I only had two boyfriends before I was abducted, and I only slept with one of them. To say I'm naive about men would be an understatement of the year.

But the silence is seriously dragging, and I'm not about to explain any of that to him.

"I can find some undemanding stuff for you to do," I say and smile at him, deciding it's best to just keep going like we don't have things to discuss. "But first, come say hello to Scrap. He's doing much better today."

I grab his healthy arm and pull him after me to the kennel, which I've partitioned off so that Scrap gets a part of it all to himself while he heals. He's lying on the bed I made for him with his bowls of water and food within easy reach and his toys scattered around him. The rest of his dog family is lounging near him on the other side of the partition.

Scrap lifts his head and starts wagging his tail like crazy when Scar crouches down next to him.

"You take real good care of these dogs, you know that?" he says and pets Scrap through the bars.

I nod and crouch down next to him. "They're like my pets. Especially Scrap…he was a stray and I nursed him to health from death's door when he was just a puppy. I'm so sorry this happened to him. He doesn't deserve it. I hope his leg will heal back right so he doesn't get a limp from it."

I always get teary-eyed when I talk about Scrap's early days and his injury makes it even worse. I look away and try to wipe away the tears before Scar notices, but there's no hiding from his gaze. He’s watching me like a predatory cat would its prey. He always watched me very closely, and I've always felt very seen by him.

I can't help but meet his eyes right now, they're just pulling my gaze to them with that quiet magnetic intensity of his.

"You're a good woman, Lynn," he says. "And you didn't deserve what happened to you. So, don't ever feel sorry for putting a brute like me in his place."

I blink hard a few times, and it's not to fight back tears, just surprise. I never expected him to say anything remotely like that. Then again, he could always surprise me, and he could always say the exact right thing to me most of the time.

I nod, and maybe the woman I was when we met might even have hugged him for saying such a kind and appropriate thing. But I'm not her anymore, and he wasn't exactly a gentleman last night.

"You're supposed to ask before kissing a woman," I say quietly.

He chuckles. "Yeah, I remember being told that once upon a time when I was a kid. But in my experience, less talking is better when it feels right."

He's so confident and forward. I wish he was like that when we first met. Then at least I'd have known what real passion was like before the mere suggestion of it made me queasy.

"The Millers are twenty minutes out with the cows, Lynn!" Bethany yells from the doorway to the kitchen. "We better get everything ready."

I appreciate the interruption, yet I'd also love to stay right here, crouching in the gravel just inches away from him and talking. But that would mean telling him why I wouldn't let him kiss me even if he asked beforehand, and I don't want to repeat it, since maybe, just maybe I'll give it another chance.

"The Millers?" he asks.

"Yeah, the last of the ranchers housing their livestock here until the fires pass," I explain.

"Alright, what do you need from me?" he asks and stands up. "I was kidding about the pain. I can work."

"I knew that," I say and grin at him. "And don't worry, I'll find something for you to do."

It's so nice just joking with him, so much nicer than worrying about all the things he needs to know, but which I don't want to tell him.

So it's not hard to ignore them as I take his hand, and lead him to the stables to find something for him to do that'll keep him here until nightfall at least.