Under Your Scars (Under Your Scars, #1)

by Ariel N. Anderson

I open my eyes, and I gasp. My lips quiver and tears sting in my eyes as I look up at my savior, standing just a foot away from me. I’m in a state of shock, I’m sure, because I look up and see his throat bob like he’s speaking, but I don’t hear words. Meridian City, and all its crime-ridden glory, has something else that makes it absolutely unbelievable. The Meridian City Silencer.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trembling on the inhale and exhale. I can feel him circling me like a predator. “Please don’t hurt me,” I beg with a whisper. “I promise, I didn’t see anything. Just—just leave. I won’t tell anyone you were here.” I tense up when I hear him turn on my kitchen sink, and a moment later, he rubs a warm rag over my cheeks and lips. The action is so tender that my eyes fly open in confusion. He’s standing in front of me with one of my dish towels in his hand. He’s wiping the blood off my face. It catches me so off guard that I stumble backwards, suddenly feeling lightheaded but refusing to let myself pass out. I might never wake up again if I do.

“Why do you do it?” I ask, the words spilling out of me faster than I can put a filter on them. His predatory gaze flickers to me and there’s something vulnerable in his expression that I can’t quite describe. “I like it.” I don’t know why I expected his answer to be something profound, but even murderers have a story. I want to know his. “Why?” He scoffs. “If you’re expecting me to tell you some sob story to justify what I do, don’t.”

“If you hadn’t been there the other night those men would have gang raped me and left me to die in that alley. Is it bad to admit that I don’t feel guilt over their deaths?” “No. You did what anyone in your situation would have done. You called for help. I made the choice to kill them, and I’m the one who has to live with it. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”

He leans closer to me, lifting a gloved finger to lightly touch my chin. “Everything that happens to you is a big deal. Say the word, and I’ll take care of him.” “No! God, what is wrong with you? Neil Hayden being a dickhead isn’t grounds for murder.” He lets out an amused huff and I think if he didn’t have that mask covering his face, I’d see a sinister smile painted across his lips. “Well, you’re no fun at all, angel.”

My throat goes dry, and I lean away from him again. Panic rises in my chest. He reaches for my hand, and I snatch it away. Our eyes meet and the tension between us cracks. He pounces on me and when he pins me down to the bed, my chest heaves and I whimper in fear, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. He’s too big. Too strong. I struggle and struggle to no avail and finally, I give up, going slack under the fiery intensity of his stare.

Tears slide down the sides of my face, disappearing into my hairline. “Are you scared?” I start nodding before he finishes his question. I see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he lets out a low chuckle. “I promise, I’m ...

He cocks his head to the side. “Why’d you try to take off my mask?” All I do in response is bite my lip in an attempt to get it to stop quivering. I search through my brain for every possible lie I can come up with. Telling a serial killer that I was planning on turning him in for money seems like a quick way to end up with a bullet in my skull. “I wanted to see the face of the man who saved me,” I say cautiously. He gives me a dangerous glare and goes completely still. I gulp, because I can just see it in the tension of hi...

When I turn to make a break for the elevator, I run face first into an Armani suit and a cloud of absolutely divine cologne. Large, warm hands hold me steady by my upper arms when I lose my footing and nearly fall over. I gasp. “I’m sorry!” I crane my neck to look up at the man holding me. My lungs seize up. I feel as though I’ve just been punched in the stomach. 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 glances at the bouquet on my desk and nods towards it. “Pretty flowers...” He rubs a finger over the acrylic nameplate next to the vase. “Elena.” Holy shit. Holy fuck. The way this man just said my name was pure sex. I take one small step backwards to try and relieve some of the tension that’s pooling between my legs. What I wouldn’t give to have him say my name like that again. Like it’s the prettiest sound in the world. Like it’s coated in sugar and dripping with honey, and he’s got a massive sweet tooth. I blink and look at the flowers, cotton mouth stealing my ability to speak. “Thank you.”

Neil scoffs in shock. “You’re really going to fire me over this airhead? How good is her pussy?” Protest is on the tip of my tongue. I’ve never even met Christian Reeves, let alone been in the same room as him before today. Where is Neil getting the idea that I would have found the time to sleep with him? Christian flicks the butt end of his cigarette at Neil, and the ashes spread across his suit, burning a small circle in the expensive fabric. “If you don’t stop talking about her like that, I’ll break your nose,” Christian threatens, and his voice is filled with so much venom that I believe it. “And for every minute it takes you to get the hell out of my building, I’m going to break one of your fingers. I’ll give you a thirty second head start.”

“I don’t understand why you’d do something like that for a nobody like me.” His answer is immediate, like it’s been rehearsed. “You’re so much more than a nobody, Elena.”

He lowers his head so that his mouth is right at the shell of my ear, his hot breath fanning over my exposed neck. “What’s it going to take?” Goosebumps prick over my exposed skin. The bottom of my spine tingles. “What?” “For you to stay in Meridian City. What’s it going to take?”

He’s so close. So close that I can feel a bulge in his pants where he’s holding my legs up, my center slotting against his. My mouth falls open and a heavy breath of desire escapes from my lungs. Christian Reeves is a fucking masterpiece, all hard muscles and charming smiles, effortless swagger and a panty-melting voice. I’m inclined to believe that he was sculpted by the gods for the sole purpose of putting every other man on the planet to shame.

I feel his teeth lightly graze against my skin and his tongue follows the same trail. My eyes close, and I let out a breathy moan. “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 don’t want to hear another man’s name out of your mouth again, Elena.”

“Here’s the thing, angel. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, running his thumbs against my scalp. “I’m going to stay right here where I belong.” His green eyes drink me in, committing every inch of my face to memory. “You’re beautiful. How did I get so lucky?”

“It means that I’m going to make you want me as bad as I want you. I’m going to make you fantasize about how it feels to have my fingers in your greedy little cunt. I’m going to make you beg for my tongue against your clit. I’m going to make you so wet and needy for me that you’ll do anything to get me to relieve that hot, achy feeling inside you. Once you admit you want me, that’s when I’ll show my appreciation. With every part of me. On every part of you.”

He takes a deep breath, softening his voice to something velvety and warm. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since we met.” He twists a finger in one of the loose curls in my hair. “Let me take you to dinner. Please?” After a second, he adds, “I’m not a man who says please often.” I shake my head. “I can’t go on a date with you. I’m sorry.” “Not a date. Dinner.”

“That’s why I call you angel,” he admits, so quietly it feels like he’s confessing to a horrific crime. 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.

He reaches out a finger to run along my jawline, and then in his other hand, he holds up a thin silver bracelet between us. It has a small circular charm no bigger than a dime dangling from it. He drops it on my chest unceremoniously. “It’s in case you ever need help,” he explains. I lift the chain to examine it. “The charm attached is a silent panic alarm. You turn it on by clicking it five times. You’ll feel it vibrate, and it will send me an alert with your exact location. If you press it, I’ll come. No matter what.”

His fingers sensually trace my neck and the collar of my shirt, coming to rest along my throat like a necklace. He squeezes so gently, just enough to quicken my heartbeat but not enough to steal my breath. “I don’t want to kill you, angel. I want to keep you all to myself. You’d better take off those rose-colored glasses and accept that the only place you belong is in my black heart.”

He sighs, and his tone softens. “I’m not strong enough to stay away from you. I couldn’t live with myself if someone came after you because of me.” “Why would anyone come after me?” “Because I care.” Though he doesn’t say it out loud, I know he wants to finish the sentence with ‘about you’.

“I’m going to figure out who you are under there.” I tap his mask. “I don’t just mean your name.” “What will you do once you know who I am?” “Easy. I’m going to collect that one-million-dollar reward for turning you in to the police.” I can tell that he’s got a smirk painting his lips from the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Before he steps onto the fire escape outside my window, he blows me a kiss from behind his mask. “Until next time, angel.”

“They need to know what happens when they touch what’s mine, Elena. They’re going to convert religions, because they won’t be praying to God, they’ll be praying to me. Begging for my fucking mercy after I hunt them all down and show them the true meaning of fear.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you lose your humanity.” 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.”

“My angel told me that Valenti made her work naked, and you assholes touched her all night. That was a big fucking mistake on your part. Elena is mine. Mine to scare. Mine to chase. Mine to touch.” I choose one of the men at random, the one second from the right with the stab wound in his stomach and the missing ear, and I point my gun at him. “Tell me which one of you touched what’s mine first.”

His warm hand cups my pussy and any reservations about him being my boss crumble to dust. “I want to touch you here.” I whimper when his fingers leave my achy cunt to squeeze my ass. “And here.” He pulls my shirt over my head and then pulls down my bra, so my breasts are spilling out over the top. “And here. And everywhere in between.”

Swallowing the remains of my stubborn pride, I soften my face and flutter my thick lashes. I make sure I look pleading, simpering, and whiny, and I raise my voice an octave higher. “Please make me cum. I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to ruin me, Mr. Reeves.” He chuckles like a goddamn maniac. “Fuck, Elena, don’t worry. I’m going to do that and so much more.”

He looks up at me from between my legs and keeps eye contact with me as his sinful tongue lightly circles my throbbing clit. My eyes roll back in my head and my hands shoot to his hair, pulling him closer. I feel him chuckle against my pussy and the vibrations cause me to buck against his chin. “Do you know what I want, Elena?” “What?” I ask—no I plead for him to tell me. “Please, whatever you want, God, please just taste me.” “Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to stay down here for as long as it takes. I want to spell out my name with my tongue against your clit, Elena, over and fucking over, until you’re screaming it.”

“What’s my name?” he asks, and I only moan in response as his finger curls inside me. “Oh my God,” I gasp. The sounds I’m making are downright pornographic and dirty. He’s eating me out like I’m his favorite meal, licking and sucking my clit and plunging his expertly skillful tongue into my dripping cunt along with his finger. My legs clamp shut against the side of his head. He uses his free hand to push them open again. “Not quite. Let me start over.” He begins to trace his name over my clit again. C. H. R. I. S. T. Christ is right.

“Say my name,” he whispers. “Mr. Reeves.” He growls and flips me onto my stomach, delivering a sharp slap to my ass. I hear him begin to unbuckle his belt, and it makes my pussy quiver with anticipation. “Say my name,” he commands. “Mr. Reeves.” “Goddamn it,” he growls, landing another harsh slap against the tender flesh of my ass, hard enough to make me whimper. That’s when I feel the silky length of him rut against my weeping core. The tip of his cock catches against my entrance and we both moan at the same time.

He hands me his cell phone and unlocks it for me. “Text yourself.” He walks over to the in-suite sink to clean himself up. He glances at me through the mirror and watches me bite my lip. “You want my phone number? We must be getting serious, Mr. Reeves.” “I’ve been serious about you from the moment we met.”

I wanted to get a glimpse of you, to see you smile, to hear you laugh. I made a game out of trying to guess how you’d wear your hair to the office. I was always looking forward to the next day because I wanted to discover one more piece of the puzzle that made up Elena Young.” He reaches across the space between us to tenderly hold my face in his hands. “And now I’ve got a whole section of my brain dedicated solely to you, and I think about more than just the next day. I see next week. I see next month. I see next year. I see you in every possible version of my future.”

I have some indescribable obsession with Elena. I know exactly why I desire her in my soul, and I’ll tell her about it one day, because she deserves to know why I call her angel.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Elena?” I think about it for a long time. Do I? Everyone wants to believe they exist. Everyone wants to believe that there’s someone out there that was always meant to love them. “I think if two people are meant to be together, then they will be. I don’t know if that makes them soulmates though. I feel like a soulmate implies some sort of…divine intervention. I think the best love stories come from the people who say that love came out of nowhere for them, not from the people who were looking for love in the first place.” I squeeze his hand in mine. “Do you believe in soulmates?” The corner of his mouth tilts into a smile. “Not until I found you.”

God damn this book!! 🥹

I’ve never felt so beautiful in my life, to have someone like Christian Reeves looking at me like he’s never seen the sky before—and I’m a bright, vibrant, sunny day. “Holy fuck, you’re beautiful.” I giggle and use one of my well-manicured nails to close his mouth. “You like?” I ask, twirling in a circle to show off all sides of my dress and flash him my new red bottom shoes. Christian bites his fist as if he’s trying to keep some semblance of a filter on his mouth.

Christian glances over at me and quietly says my name to catch my attention. “What’s wrong?” he asks, squeezing my hand even tighter. I let out a defeated sigh and embarrassment pools in my cheeks. “I’m just worried about not measuring up. You can have anyone you want and…I feel like I don’t belong in your world.” “Our world,” he corrects quickly after I finish. “Our world, Elena. There isn’t a you and me anymore. It’s us. You’re worried about not measuring up, but there’s no competition. Don’t compare yourself to women that don’t exist. We’re together now, nothing else matters.

CHAPTER 15 THE SILENCER One thing I cannot stand is the sight of Elena crying. It does unnatural things to me. Turns me into a feral beast. Makes me want to set the world on fire.

I’ve never cared about making a difference in Meridian City. I’ve only ever cared about becoming a ruthless god amongst men. I wanted control. I wanted the scum of this city to feel helpless as I wring their fight from their necks. 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.

It’s a shame I’m already destined for Hell, because it’s not where angels belong. But I’m not going anywhere without her.

I have problems. Really big fucking problems. Christian Reeves is one of those problems. He’s perfect. He’s everything Elena could ever want. Handsome. Rich. Doting. He’d do anything to see her smile—to see the way those subtle golden flecks in the brown of her eyes sparkle when she’s happy. I’m not perfect. Far from it—I am unstable. I am broken and my soul is empty. I have nothing to offer her except pain and suffering and lies. Yet I can’t stay away from her. The only reason I haven’t killed Christian Reeves is because of her, so he should consider himself fucking lucky.

I begin to relentlessly beat my fists into his face, and I don’t stop until my fists are annihilated and the reflective shards are nothing but dust covering the floor. 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.

“Beg,” he demands. “Please,” I immediately respond, my voice raising an octave when he presses his thumb harder into me. I’m on the verge of tears from how bad I want him. “Please fuck me, Christian. I need you. Please.” The satisfied groan that escapes his throat has me clenching tight around his rock-solid length, and I think I could cum from that sound alone. He leans down and nips at my ear. His smooth voice cuts through the air thick with sexual tension. “Don’t worry, angel. I’m going to send you straight back to heaven.”

My hands reach up between us to caress his cheeks with the same tenderness with which he cradles my face. “Tell me the good thing.” Time freezes as we stare at each other, and my heart flutters when the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile, before his face hardens with nerves. “I am painfully, catastrophically in love with you.” My throat aches with raw emotion and tears escape my eyes, falling to the comforter below us. I open my mouth to say something back, but no words come out. “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. There’s something brutally betrayed in the unique icy blue of his eyes.

“Christian…” “You don’t have to explain yourself,” he says with a sigh. “I get it.” A knot ties itself inside my throat, making it hard to swallow. “Edwin always used to say that I was intense in all aspects of my life. I always thought he was full of shit. He was an old man, trying to be a father figure to a punk ass kid who didn’t want to listen. It wasn’t until I got older that I started to notice it. Anger. Guilt. Jealousy. Pride. Then I met you, and falling in love was like some nuclear catalyst inside me. I’ve been consumed by it—by you. I can’t think about anything else except how much I want you to be mine to love, forever.” He takes a deep breath. “I mean that in the kind of way that’s going to suffocate you one day but I can’t stop. I can’t fucking stop. I won’t be satisfied until I am every part of your existence as you are mine.”

He flips me onto my back and kisses me, slow and deep. “I love you.” The tenderness in those three words makes my heart flutter, and it would be so natural and feel so right to say it back. I don’t know why I can’t, and that frightens me—because what if he’s right about the bad thing he wants to tell me? What if I stop believing him?

“Is this the bad thing?” I whisper. He shakes his head and inhales a harsh breath. “You said you hated me.” I shake my head in confusion. “What? No, Christian—” I take his face in my hands. “I don’t hate you.” He cradles my cheeks with the same tenderness I’m holding his. With his lips ghosting over mine, he whispers, “The day we met…I was going to kill myself.” My throat tightens and tears prick in my eyes. “What?” He holds me close to him, his trembling breaths telling me he’s terrified. Wet droplets of water drip from his hair and mix with his tears. “I had the gun to my head. I had my finger on the trigger, and I was about to pull it. The bad thing, Elena…is that the only reason I stopped was because I heard you screaming for help.” His voice cracks as a violent sob wrecks through him. “That’s why I call you angel. Because you saved my life.” The horror stings up my spine like I’ve just been cracked with a fiery whip. My heart is beating so hard I think it might jump straight out of my ribcage. “You’re the Silencer.”

“Don’t fucking touch her,” I growl. “Sir—” “I said don’t touch her!” I yell, like a rabid animal waiting to pounce. “She’s fucking scared. Give her a goddamn minute.” Slowly, the staff members filter out. Kate is the last to leave, quietly shutting the door behind her. I squeeze Elena tightly against my body, and I can feel a new wave of tears soaking through the collar of my shirt. “They’re gone, baby. It’s okay. I’m here now,” I coo, trying to make myself sound calm and collected on the outside when I have a million other emotions coursing through my veins. Fear. Anger. Relief. Guilt. “Look at me,” I say quietly, and after a long moment, she pulls her head back slightly so that her red-rimmed eyes meet mine. Tears and snot and dried blood run down her face. “You were so brave, and I’m so fucking proud of you. So. Fucking. Proud.” I have to know what Valenti wanted from her, the consequences so severe that she’d allow herself to be raped repeatedly rather than give it to him. I can’t imagine there’s anything worth that kind of torment. I take a deep breath. “Angel, tell me what they wanted from you,” I beg. “Your name.” My brain short circuits. “What?” I ask, a dumbfounded look in my eyes because I’m almost certain I misheard her. “My name?” She hesitantly nods. My mouth falls open, breath caught in my throat, and my entire resolve disintegrates. I don’t know if I should be grateful or fucking horrified that she would do that for me.

I use my now free hands to cup her cheeks and press my forehead to hers. “Angel, I swear on my fucking life, I am never letting you out of my sight again.

THE EXECUTIONER I should have burnt this city to the ground when I had the chance.