My scars. “Who did that to you?” His voice lacked every bit of his control. I quickly grabbed the T-shirt he had thrown me and pulled it over my head. “It’s nothing.” “It’s not nothing.” He was staring at the shirt as if he could still see the scars beneath. “Who the fuck did that to you?” He enunciated every word, and fear coated every bit of me. I had never seen him this angry before.
