7
Scar
Anger raged through my blood. My body trembled bonelessly against the couch. There was so much anger inside of me, but the worst part was, I’d directed it at the wrong person. I got mad at Ryu when I was truly mad atmyself.
My fists balled weakly. I was so frustrated that hot tears welled in the corners of my eyes. What the hell was wrong with me? There was no need to yell at Ryu like that, especially when he was only trying to help.
But his prying questions hit too close to home. I couldn’t deal with that. I panicked.
Personal questions made me feel sick. My business was my own, and nobody else’s. What did Ryu care if I had a mate or not? It wasn’t his problem, but he was trying tomakeit his problem. He was better off spending his time elsewhere, where he wasn’t wasting it.
I slumped further into the couch, hopeless and tired. Speaking to him made me realize just how alone I truly was—no friends, no family. Just a bar room full of strangers with money. And I’d just screamed at the only person who was willing to spend time with me.
Nice going, idiot. Maybe now you can go yell at Karen downstairs so she can hate you, too.
As the hot fury wore off, sadness took its place. The frustrated tears began rolling down my cheeks and annoying me even further. I wiped them aggressively.
I didn’t want to sit there crying alone in the dark. I needed to get up and do something.
Getting to my feet was a struggle, especially since I’d been hurt earlier. My throat tightened remembering how Ryu set me down and examined me with his fingers on my skin. Nobody had gotten that close me in a long time.
And he wasn’t afraid of touching me. Not like everyone else.
Ignoring the pain in my ankle, I stood up and forced myself to the door. The pain felt like a deserved retribution—my punishment for screaming at Ryu when he hadn’t done anything wrong.
He deserved an apology. But after the way I handled that conversation, would he reallywantone? It was like trying to pet a dog and getting bit on the hand. He probably never wanted to speak to me again. I couldn’t blame him.
I checked the time. The night was still early, at least for drinking standards. Maybe if I made it back to the bar soon I could at least squeeze a few customers in before closing. Being at the bar would get my mind off the terrible date I just had.
I froze and rewound my thoughts. It wasn’t a date. I don’t know why I thought that. Slip of the tongue.
* * *
There wasno big line-up or commotion by the bar’s front doors, so I assumed everyone saw the sign and left disappointed. All I had to do was quickly take it down and turn on theOPENsign, and hopefully I could salvage some money out of this horrible evening.
But something wasn’t right.
I paused, frowning. My instincts were telling me something waswrong—out of place. Then, under the shadow of the bar’s awning, I saw it. A strange shape.
“What the…”
I approached cautiously, unsure of what to make of the object. But the closer I got, the more my heart raced with both fear and curiosity.
It was a baby carrier.
I just hoped there wasn’t a baby in it.
I approached it like it was a bomb waiting to go off. I prayed somebody had just dumped their unused item and left. Maybe they didn’t know this was a bar—maybe they thought it was a donation center.
All those thoughts raced hopefully in my head until I saw the golden-haired sleeping infant nestled inside the carrier.
My breath caught in my throat.
The world seemed to stop. In front of me was a young child, just a baby—all alone.
Abandoned in front of a damn bar.
Panicked, I glanced around, desperate to see any kind of living form. Maybe whoever dropped this baby here was still in the area. But I didn’t see anyone. The streets were dark, and the only illumination was the dim safety lights inside the bar.
