I try a different angle. “This isn’t just about how you look. It’s about your career, lass. You might struggle to find acting and modelling jobs with a great big scar over your face.”
Her face twists. “I don’t care aboutmodelling,” she spits.
“Then what is it?” I demand, suddenly losing my shit. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? Why?!”
She glares at me. “Because maybe if I have the scars, you’ll finally get it through your thick head that I’m in love with you!”
Everything goes quiet. For a second, I think it’s just in my head; but I realise that the low chatter from the doctors and nurses passing in the hallway has died down. People are listening in. Right now, I don’t think I care. Her voice keeps echoing around and around my head.
I’m in love with you.
Christ.
I shift awkwardly on the bed. “Briar, you’ve had a bad shock—”
“I love you,” she repeats stubbornly, then raises her voice, “and he is my boyfriend!”
“I’m not,” I say, panic building. God, thishurts. “Briar, please,” I beg, “please, you’re not thinking straight.”
“Why do you think I’m lying?” She demands, her eyes burning.
“I don’t think you’relying,I think you’re tired and in pain and confused—”
“Why?” She repeats, cutting me off.
I sputter. “Because—”
Because the idea of her loving me is ludicrous. This isn’t Beauty and the bloody Beast, this is real life. Briar’s not my girlfriend; she’s a completely unattainable famous actress who likes shagging her bodyguards. That’sit.
“Because of your face,” she finishes for me. “I’m sick of it, Glen, I’mdonewith you acting like you’re not worthy of me just because of some goddamn collagen! I’m sick of you hiding from photographersto save my image.I’m sick of you hiding your face fromme. I adore your face! I love it so much! I want to see it every day for the rest of my life!” Her chest hitches with a sob. I can barely breathe. “I thought you might bedeadwhen that bomb went off. Do you think it would have hurt me less, because of yourscars?”
“It’s not like that—” I protest.
She’s having none of it. “It’sexactlylike that. You think you’re worth less than me.” She reaches up and brushes my cheek, and I have to fight the urge to pull away. Her lips purse. “These don’t make you worth less than any other man. If anything, they show how muchbetteryou are than most people. You’re one of thebest peopleI’ve ever met. And maybe I’m selfish, but that’s why I want you, all for myself.”
I take a deep breath, trying to slow down my brain. “It’s not just the scars. It’s…” I lick my lips. I’m not good with words. I don’t know how to say this right. “You’re so good. And pretty. And delicate.” Her eyes narrow. Shit. “That’s not an insult,” I backtrack. “I just mean—when you’ve served, all civilians seem delicate. And soft. The things I remember, the places I’ve been… they’ve made me hard. The shit I’ve seen feels too dark and dirty for someone sonormal. I’m not as bad as Matt, but I still have nightmares. I still have the memories. It feels like there’s this part of me that I have to keep away from you. It’s toodark.And you don’t need that in your life.”
“Oh, Glen,” she says softly. A warm hand touches my face. I close my eyes. She understands. “You know everything you just said is complete bullshit, right?”
I choke on my own spit.
She shakes her head. “I mean, I get it. I do. I don’t mean to demean your feelings, or whatever. But… your thoughts are bullshit. They’re wrong. They’re lying to you.” She strokes a finger down my cheekbone. “I’m not good, or pure, or delicate, and you’re not damaged, or dirty, or hard. You’ve been through Hell. And you’re right; I will never truly understand all the places that you’ve been.” She runs her hand down the side of my face. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. It doesn’t mean I can’t love you.”
A throat clears behind us. “Ma’am?” The surgeon prompts. “If you don’t want my services, they’re needed elsewhere.”
Briar doesn’t look away from me, her blue eyes imploring. “Okay,” I tell her. “Okay. I believe you. I—love you, too.”
She shivers, a full-body shiver, and presses her mouth to mine. “Okay,” she mumbles over my shoulder. “Sorry. You can do it.”
The surgeon numbs her face, and I hold her hand as he methodically stitches her back up. She squeezes my hand so hard she almost crushes it, but when I look into her eyes, I know it’s not because of the pain at all.
Fifty-One
Briar
?
The other Angels join us as I’m being questioned by police officers in a private room. It’s excruciating. Nurses keep interrupting to stab me with needles or check my vitals, and Matt and Glen won’t stop growling at the officers for ‘pushing me too hard’. It’s driving me up the wall. I have to talk to the police, and the sooner I finish, the sooner I can leave, but they’re both acting like I might break down at any moment.
