I straightened my shoulders. “Yes, I did. I wasn’t going to allow some thug to hurt you.” I grasped his arm, which made him pause. “And before you tell me off, it’s not because of your disability. I would have done the same thing for any single one of my friends.”
His eyes met mine, shining fiercely. He didn’t try to remove his arm from my grasp and he didn’t look away. For a moment, we were two blades clashed against each other.
Then, another shock of guilt. I quickly withdrew my hand, letting go of Scar. I didn’t want to intimidate him. I wanted him totrustme.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He ignored me. “I’m gonna ask you a stupid question.”
“What?”
Scar inhaled and held his breath. “Do youfeelsomething?”
I know exactly what you mean.“I don’t know what you mean.”
His face fell. Fear and confusion gutted me. Why did I lie? What was I doing? Scar was my friend, and like any other friend I wanted him to like me. Lying to his face was the opposite of everything I stood for.
But that wasn’t it. Something, some tiny nagging sensation clawed at my gut like a worm. I understood what Scar meant. He was seeking my reciprocation, but instead of giving it to him, I backed out.
What am I afraid of?
I took too long to figure it out. Scar waved it off. “Nevermind. It’s probably the musty lobby fumes getting to my head.”
“Maybe,” I said.
A stuffy silence engulfed the room. Scar stared at the floor. Words bubbled up in my throat but refused to come out. The quiet was deafening. I needed to saysomething.
“What did you mean earlier,” I began slowly, “when you said that everyone hates you?”
He scowled. “It’s true. Besides you, everyone else in the tribe—hell, everyone in theworldseems to despise me.”
“What?” I sat down next to him on the couch. “Nobody thinks that!”
His piercing eyes glared at me. “Don’t lie. You’ve seen the way people on the street stare at me—like I’m contagious, or evil, just because I don’t look like them. Remember the pretzel guy?”
“He was just a jerk. Besides, what about Dante and Lorenzo?”
“They’re not my friends, they’reyourfriends.”
“But they come to your bar!” I exclaimed.
“Exactly. They’re customers. Those aren’t friends.”
I wracked my brain. “What about Gabriel? You were from the same pack, right?”
Scar shook his head. “We didn’tknoweach other. And it’s not like he hangs out with me. Just because he spoke to me once when he needed information doesn’t make us close buddies.”
I was quickly running out of ideas, and that made me feel incredibly guilty. Did I not know Scar as well as I thought? Or did he truly have nobody in his life?
Without thinking, I put my hand on his knee and said, “I know people don’t hate you. And besides that, there has to be someone you care for—you know, in a deeper way.”
He furrowed his brow, suddenly looking anxious and irritated. “What?”
“You know, like... a mate.”
His eyes widened and his expression turned unreadable. Suddenly realizing what I was doing, I pulled my hand back.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
