Under Your Scars (Under Your Scars, #1)

by Ariel N. Anderson

I glance at the clock in the bottom corner of my computer. It’s 8:37 PM on a Friday night. I groan quietly to myself. I’ve been at this desk in this uncomfortable office chair since nine this morning. You’d think with all the money flowing in and out of this place, they’d be able to provide their staff with chairs that don’t cause early-onset arthritis. I take an exhausted breath and finish up an email to my boss, Neil, before shutting down my computer and grabbing my things.

He looks up at me and has the nerve to wink at me from behind his stupid little mask. I run my fingers through my hair and look down at myself and cringe. I had forgotten I had his blood all over my clothes and I’m suddenly itching to take a shower. I’m not stupid enough to put myself in that kind of position though. Naked with a serial killer on the other side of the door? No thanks.

I’m not even sure why he hates me. I’m not totally incompetent when it comes to my duties here. My best guess is it’s because I’m not fun to look at. I’ve got as much curve as a two by four, and the sex appeal of a plastic bag.

A large bouquet of flowers is sitting on my desk. Scratch that—a fucking massive bouquet of flowers is sitting on my desk. Bright, beautiful peonies, roses, gardenias, and baby’s breath in varying shades of purple and white are neatly arranged in a heavy marble vase.

I blink in shock and I’m not sure what to think. There’s a light purple notecard sitting upright against the vase. I hesitantly open the envelope and inside is a card with messy, yet perfectly legible handwriting scribbled across it, almost like it was written with a non-dominant hand.

Christian Reeves is standing before me in a well-tailored gray suit and a black turtleneck. The Christian Reeves, as in, the man who owns Meridian City and whose name is plastered on the side of the building I’m standing in. The Christian Reeves as in, the CEO. The Christian Reeves as in, the richest man on the goddamn planet.

Christian laughs, but there’s no humor in it. He stands up, sauntering around Neil’s desk. When he’s at Neil’s side, Christian grabs him by the back of his blazer and shoves his head onto the thick glass of the table, cheek first. He whimpers, and I gasp with my hand over my mouth. I can’t say I’m not happy to watch Neil get what he deserves, but I’m not sure what to do except keep my mouth shut and try really hard to pretend I don’t see the CEO of the company assaulting his top attorney.

Neil’s nostrils flare and he points at me, but I cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m fired.” I move to stomp my way out of the room, but gentle, calloused fingers wrap around my tiny wrist, and I freeze. Christian is examining my hand like it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

Kate is the only one that doesn’t seem bothered by him. She’s kind of like the mom friend around here. She cares about us, but she doesn’t take any of our shit, and she definitely doesn’t tolerate laziness. Everyone has to pull their own weight. I wonder if she’s the way she is because Frank made her that way, or if she’s just trying to look out for us.

“Are you friends with Frank Valenti?” I ask quietly. He stops his gentle assault on my neck with his teeth and wraps a large hand around my throat, squeezing enough to make the pressure in my skull skyrocket, but not enough to cut off my air supply.

“I’m sorry,” I shudder, and he lets my throat go, his fingers digging into the curve of my ass. I’m going to have bruises in the exact size and shape of his fingers all over my legs. The thought alone has my mouth watering. A heady feeling settles low in my stomach when his mouth goes back to my neck and he kisses me right below my ear.

“I’m not going to make you do anything,” he sneers. “You’re going to do it because it’s the polite thing to do.” He looks up as if considering another option, and then his bright green eyes meet mine again. “You can thank me with your mouth or with your blood.” He pulls a knife from his thigh and flips it in his hand for emphasis.

I can’t say I’m surprised to see Christian standing there looking down at me with a curious gaze. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his ankles, and because he’s so broad, he effectively blocks my way out. “Mr. Reeves,” I greet, clearing my throat. I try my best to not let my eyes trail down his body and drink him in, but what can I say? He’s hot, and I have eyes. And a vagina. The whole ‘master of the universe’ vibe that he gives off spreads heat through my whole body. He’s wearing a proper suit today, charcoal gray in color with a red silk tie.

I nod, and he kisses me again, longer this time, and I suck in a sharp breath as he takes a step and presses my back to the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. He capitalizes on the gasp that escapes my throat by shoving his tongue in my mouth, exploring the new territory. I can’t help the way my hands tangle in his lapels, pulling him closer. I feel him smirk and his kisses become hungry, ferocious, and needy. A small moan escapes my mouth, and my cheeks heat up in both embarrassment and desire.

“How would you know what his type is? Maybe he’s into short brunettes with…” He makes a pinching motion to insinuate that I have small boobs, and well, he’s not wrong, but I scowl and swat at him anyways, still trying to push him off me. He sits back and it gives me the opportunity to sit up a little, though my legs are still spread wide open like an invitation.

My heart skips a beat, and my body relaxes slightly. I’m not sure why, but I suddenly feel safe with him. I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to make of that. Not even five minutes ago, I feared him. Now, I’m not sure how I feel, and that’s even more terrifying. My mind brings back the hazy memory of him wiping off my face with a warm rag before I passed out. How I woke up tucked in bed like I had fallen asleep on the couch during movie night.

I muster the courage to look at him, his eyes fixated on the marks around my neck. His gaze goes dark with fury, and that’s when I notice something odd about his eyes. A soft film of green overlaps his dark pupils.

He rubs my bottom lip with his gloved hand. “If you’re so concerned about my humanity, Elena, then reach into my soul and find it, because I’m not sure I have any left.”

The clothes I wear when I don this mask look completely normal. A black moisture-absorbent shirt, black tactical pants, and my zip-up hoodie with the sleeves cut off. The material that makes up my outfit is a special triple-weave Kevlar that I designed myself. I’ve made thousands of individual scales from the Kevlar, with thin plates of titanium woven into the fabric. The scales are doubled up on the most vulnerable parts of me. My heart. My spine. My dick. All the important things. The titanium/Kevlar weave protects me without weighing me down as much as steel would, and the scales allow the material to hug my body, keeping me agile and comfortable.

“Your wish is my command,” he purrs, and before I have a chance to comprehend it, I feel him wrap his arm around my waist, spin me to face him, and then with a devilishly handsome smile, he sends us tumbling down to the ground into the whimsical blooms. He catches the weight of us both with ease and I land with a tiny thud on my back. He’s leaning over me, resting his weight on one forearm as he uses his free hand to stroke his thumb across my cheek with gentle tenderness. We exchange that cliché moment where our gazes flicker to each other’s lips, and he presses his mouth to mine with something I can only describe as adoration. It’s light and chaste—nothing like the way he kissed me in his car last night.

He chuckles against my neck. “I love how that’s the only thing you decided to respond to.” His hand brushes up my skirt, causing it to pool around my waist, my white cotton thong now exposed. He looks down and growls to himself, and I swear, even behind his mask, I can practically see him hungrily lick his lips. His fingers ghost over the front of my panties.

He gives me a crooked smile. “Not in the slightest. I like spending time with you. Is that such a crime?” He sets his champagne glass down on the table in front of him, wraps his hand around my thigh, and pulls me into his lap. I’m straddling him, his mouth mere inches from mine. He caresses my cheeks with a featherlight touch and presses his lips to mine—soft and sensual. I don’t fight it. I let him explore my mouth as our tongues tangle together. I can taste the champagne still lingering on his breath and my hands fist into the front of his shirt.

He plunges two of his thick fingers inside me, and the sound that escapes my throat is so obscene that I don’t think the soundproof barriers of these suites are hiding it. I twist my fingers in his hair and pull as he pumps his fingers in and out of me at a brutal pace. I can feel myself dripping down my thighs and all over his hands and pants. When those sinful things curl inside me and press down on that sweet spot, I come undone. I cum so hard I can practically see stars. I convulse with his fingers still deep inside me, still pumping, pulling sweet aftershocks from my needy hole. I lightly graze my teeth over the side of his neck and whimper softly when he removes his fingers from me.

He flips me onto my back, pulling off my skirt so that I’m completely bare to him while he’s still fully dressed, his clothes soaked with my release. My cheeks heat with embarrassment. I’ve never done that before, and he pulled it out of me so easily you’d think I was trained to squirt on command.

Christian Reeves doesn’t know how fucking lucky he is to have Elena and all of her affections. Yes, he’s charming and hot and rich and blah, blah, blah. But he doesn’t deserve her and it’s not fucking fair that he gets to have her, and I don’t. I don’t deserve her either, but that’s beside the point. She’s mine. I don’t have to deserve her for her to belong to me.

Even if that means I have to be a pervert myself and hack into the Hellfire Lounge cameras to find and download the recording of Christian Reeves fucking her in one of those plush private suites. I knew the second Kate handed her that piece of paper that she wouldn’t need much convincing to go find that rich asshole waiting for her. I knew the second she stepped into that suite that he’d touch her, and she’d let him, because all those nights alone with her vibrator aren’t enough anymore.

Fuck Christian Reeves. Fuck him for bulldozing his way into her life at the exact moment I started to. Most of all, fuck him for getting to taste her first. I don’t share. I’ve never had to share, and I’m not about to start.

Diana Louise Young, date of birth 12/17/1960 explained that soon after starting a new job, the owner, [REDACTED], began making unwanted advances towards her. She described the first few conversations they had as typical of an employer-employee relationship. They would exchange small talk and he would often bring her coffee before going to his office. As the receptionist in the lobby, they crossed paths often.

I informed Mrs. Young about the arrest. She advised that she told her husband, Elliot Young, about the situation, and he had some questions about the investigation. I told her he is free to call me when he is able. Mr. Young is in the United States Army and currently deployed in Korea, so I will not be interviewing him at this time.

I open my mouth to ask him what he just called me, but all that escapes is a cry of agonizing pleasure when he presses into me without warning, seating himself fully inside me in one fluid motion. He captures my shallow breaths with one kiss after another as he rails me so hard I nearly go blind. I hold onto him for dear life, clutching at his suit and dragging my nails down the expensive fabric.

I know I’m dripping obscenely onto the conference table, and I pray nobody sitting here will be able to see the imprint of our passion on the rich mahogany. With his hand still in a tight fist tangled in my hair, he lifts my mouth up to his and swallows my desperate moans. We share breaths. My inhale is his exhale. He’s drinking in the noises I’m making like they’re a symphony made just for him.

He finishes inside me with a loud groan at the same time I throw my head back in pure euphoria. My bones almost crack under his unyielding grip as he twitches inside me. A mixture of our release drips onto the table when he pulls out. He licks his lips as he looks between my legs, gathers some of it up on his fingers and shoves it back inside me. I hiss from the sensation.

I can feel our combined release leaking slowly out of me and onto the table. I cross my legs to try and keep it contained, and Christian growls, rolling his chair directly between my legs after uncrossing them. He flips up the bottom of my skirt and places my feet on the arms of his chair, exposing my center to him again. His eyes catch on the ugly anklet the Silencer gave me, but he doesn’t comment on it. He shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it carelessly behind him as he looks me over.

“You’re nothing but trouble, Elena Young.” I blink at him, zoning out for a second, feeling like I’ve got the most uncertain hit of déjà vu in my life. I don’t hear the rest of his words. I don’t even realize I’m staring at nothing until he taps my nose. I bite my lip, embarrassed that I missed everything he said.

After some prying, I learn that the massive man’s name is Gavin. He’s a retired Marine. Has a wife and a newborn. He’s been working for the Reeves Estate for six years. Started out as perimeter security for the mansion and is now one of Christian’s most trusted bodyguards.

Gavin tells me that Christian doesn’t use his security to protect himself, but rather the people he cares about. Well, person. Christian has a godfather named Edwin, who has been with the Reeves family since his father, Thomas, moved to Meridian City. Edwin was Thomas’ private secretary and raised Christian after his parents died. Gavin used to tag along when Edwin wanted to get out of the mansion to make sure he didn’t fall or get bombarded by reporters or mugged outside a coffee shop. Edwin has become frail in his old age and has trouble walking, so he never leaves the mansion anymore.

I’ll be the first to admit that I love shopping just as much as the next girl, but when your ultra-rich boyfriend hands you his credit card and tells you money is no object, it’s a whole different world. I’m not typically one to spend so frivolously, but Christian was very encouraging. I jokingly texted him that I couldn’t decide between the black Louboutin’s or the nude ones, and he simply texted back ‘get both’.

Finally, after it’s obvious I’m not moving, I hear the Silencer wedge something under my windowsill, unlock it from the inside, and let himself in. I don’t look at him, but I can see him from the corner of my eye as he takes me in from the other side of the room. I’m sure I look like I’m in the middle of a mental breakdown. Not only am I naked, surrounded by junk food and alcohol, but dozens of discarded tissues circle me like I’m performing a seance with my tears and snot.

But then I met Elena, my perfect little guardian angel. I don’t just want to be a god anymore; I want to worship my goddess. I want to protect her. I want to take care of her. I want her to be mine. I want her soul to belong to me as mine belongs to her, even if she doesn’t realize she holds that power over me yet.

Carefully, I wedge the knife between the foil and the plastic of the packet and peel it back from the glue. I dump the old pills into the toilet and then replace the unused pills in the packet with the corresponding blue and white placebos. Then, I take a lighter to heat up glue stuck to the foil before sealing it down.

The hardest part about falling in love with an angel isn’t making her accept the fact that I kill people. It isn’t even keeping the identity under my mask a secret from her. It’s accepting the fact that Christian Reeves makes her happier than I ever could. It’s accepting the fact that I am not Christian Reeves. I am not Christian Reeves. I am not Christian Reeves. I. Am. Not. Christian. Reeves.

“I missed you, Elena. I don’t care that it’s been less than a day. I fucking missed you,” he whispers against my mouth, and I mewl when he lowers me backwards onto the bed. He holds himself up and I tangle my fists in his dress shirt. The kiss turns hungry, and he wastes no time pulling off my shirt and bra, followed by my skirt and thong until I’m completely bare to him.

It sends me over the edge before I even realize what’s happening, and I cum around his thick cock so hard I can’t breathe. He slows down, grinding himself into me as I ride out the aftershocks of my orgasm. He roughly flips me over and my entire body freezes.

He laughs with so much malice that I don’t even recognize him. “Fuck, Elena,” he growls. “I hope you weren’t planning on using your legs tomorrow.” I whimper in equal parts fear and ecstasy, and by the time he’s done with me, he’s fucked me so hard I can feel him in my soul.

“We can take you to the park,” Christian says, lifting Caroline up to carry her and then lacing his fingers with mine. On our way out, he lets Kelly know we’ll take good care of her, and then we make the short walk to the park. Caroline wiggles out of Christian’s arms and makes a break for the empty playground set. She puts her hands up like she’s on a rollercoaster when she goes down the spiral slide.

” He kisses me again, smirking. “You have a billionaire worshiping the ground you walk on, flying you all over the world on his private jet and buying you a hundred-million-dollar yacht, and you’re thinking about ice cream.” He takes my hand and leads me onto the boat, keeping me steady as I adjust to the gentle sway.

“I love you,” he whispers against my lips. It doesn’t feel like a declaration this time, but rather, a desperate attempt to get me to say it back. Because that’s what you do when someone says they love you. You say it back. But I can’t. I can’t, and I think he and I both realize it in horror at the same time, because something in his face changes.

This is him making love to me. This is how he’s choosing to show me that he means it. It’s beautiful and passionate and tender and gentle. I mewl as he grinds into me, seated as deep as he can manage—so deep until I’m not sure where he ends, and I begin. I wrap my arms around his shoulders. I moan quietly each time he drags his pelvis across my clit.

“You wanted my attention, baby, and now you’ve got it. Now be a good girl and suck.” He grabs a fistful of my loose hair and tugs me to his length, and I welcome him into my mouth. I smear the salty drop of precum along my lips and then lick up the bottom of his shaft before taking him fully in my mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, throwing his head back as his eyebrows knit together.

“Fuck, Elena! Of course I care!” Christian shouts, and it’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at me. He didn’t even sound this terrifying when he was threatening Neil. Cold shivers trail up my spine and I cross my arms over my chest, shrinking into the door of the car. After a moment, he reaches across the expanse between us that feels about a mile long, and lightly squeezes my thigh.