Beneath the Scars

Zachary loved me. He said the words—his need so fierce, desire so great, there was no room left for doubt. His emotional outpouring left me speechless and unable to do anything as he raged in my arms, his tears so thick they soaked my shirt. It was then the tremors took over, and I knew I had to get him upstairs into bed. The day had been one emotional upheaval after another, and he was losing his strength. I struggled under his weight as he leaned into me, grateful when we finally reached the bedroom.

There was no rest, though, not yet. He was still overwrought and needed reassurance; he also wanted to give me as much information as he could. It was as if, now he had opened up the floodgates, he wanted the words out in the open.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Yes,” I soothed, running my fingers though his hair.

“Even though you know now what a bastard I am?”

“I don’t think you’re the same person anymore, Zachary. Do you?”

He lifted his head. “I don’t want to be. I try not to be, although I know I fail at times.”

“We all fail at times. I don’t expect you to be perfect.” I paused. “And you shouldn’t expect it of yourself.”

“I want to be for you.”

I shook my head. “I’m not perfect, either. Don’t set yourself up to fail. Just be Zachary.” I kissed him, my lips soft on his skin. “That’s all I need. Just Zachary.”

“Just Zachary has never been enough for anyone before now.”

“It is for me.”

“That will take some getting used to.”

“I know. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ask me some more questions, Megan. Please. Help me.”

I wanted him to rest, but I knew he wouldn’t—not until he had purged as many memories as he could. Unsure where to begin, I traced down one of the scars on his face, so much deeper and harder than the others. “I, ah, was wearing a heavy chain as part of my character’s wardrobe,” he explained to my unasked question. “When they were trying to get to me, I was knocked down and the hot metal got pressed into my skin. It caused the most damage.” He hesitated. “Does it feel strange when I kiss you? The way my mouth feels, I mean?”

I thought about it, remembering the first time I had felt the hardness of the scar against my lips, but after that, I stopped thinking about it. “No. It feels like Zachary is kissing me.” I moved my mouth with his. “I like when you kiss me.”

He looked almost shy when he returned my smile. “I like kissing you.”

I drew his head back to my chest, feeling him sinking into me.

“Do you ever go back to England?”

“I haven’t for a long time. Not since…I was burned.”

“Do you miss your old life?”

“No.”

“Nothing? The glamour, the parties?”

“No. It was empty. The life I live here is quiet and secluded, but it has more…meaning, if that makes sense.”

“Maybe because you have people here who care about you—friends.”

His head lifted. “Friends,” he repeated slowly, as if the word was totally foreign to him.

“Don’t you consider Jonathon and Ashley friends? Mr. and Mrs. Cooper? I think, if you asked, they would consider you one. Especially Ashley. She’s very fond of you.”

“I’m not used to being a friend, or having them.”

“They care about you, Zachary. Help you. They’re all very protective. To me, that means being a friend.”

His brow furrowed as he thought about it. I swallowed the painful lump in my throat as he looked at me from under his lashes. There was disbelief in his gaze. “I never thought about it that way,” he admitted.

“I know you only see him on rare occasions, but Chris, as well. You do have people who care now.” I cupped his face, stroking the skin. “Your life has changed. You need to allow yourself to feel and accept.”

He chuckled dryly. “You sound like Doc Webber.”

“Who?”

He rolled on his back and nestled me to his side. “After I got here, I hid for a while. Mrs. Cooper was kind enough to deliver groceries to me. She knew who I was since I’d met her several times after I bought the place. They had a sideline business and cared for houses in the area when owners weren’t around and I hired them.”

“Yes, Karen told me that. That’s how I got her key.”

“So, she knew of the accident and she was very, ah, respectful. She treated me the same way she did before, which to her credit, was no different than the way she treated anyone. I wasn’t a big Hollywood star here. I was simply Zachary.”

“You didn’t go by Adam?”

“No. This was a place I was just me. No one, not even Ryan, knew about this place.”

“I see. Your hideaway.”

I felt his lips brush my head. “Exactly.”