Page 13 of Beautiful Scars

Chapter 4

MEISIE

My dark hair tickles the nape of my neck as a breeze toys with my ponytail. I have a crystal tumbler in one hand, drink barely touched, my purse in the other.

Hey, Meisie? What the ever-loving fuck are you doing?

I’m perfectly sane, thank you very much. People do this shit all the time.

Overpriced hookers maybe.

I take a sip of my ghastly drink and pretend I don’t have someone yelling at me inside my own head.

The view from this penthouse studio apartment is…well, it’s fucking breathtaking. Edinburgh lies splayed out below, the city’s lights putting the streak of stars above us to shame.

I’m the daughter of the fucking First Minister but I’ve never been in an apartment this lavish. This luxurious. This…

Ludicrous.

Who the fuck lives in a place like this?

Everything out here is matte black and glass. Like Asylum, if there hadn’t been lights gleaming off those surfaces, you’d imagine you could just walk right over the edge of the balcony and fall to your death.

Great. Now I’m morbid and a whore.

You haven’t done anything yet. You can leave.

“Not a fan of cognac?” Cillian asks.

I shrug. I don’t really care what I’m drinking, as long as it gets rid of the voice in my head that keeps telling me what a huge mistake this is.

“Guess you’re bored of the view already,” I say, resting the tumbler on the balcony’s glass railing.

I shiver when Cillian runs a knuckle down my spine.

My dress is an open-back sequined wonder I ordered on impulse early in the week. The model pictured on the online store’s catalog looked like she could walk through walls. I’m not stupid enough to think such a superhuman ability was transferable through a piece of fabric, but after I’d put it on, I didn’t think twice about sneaking out of the house and borrowing Mom’s car like I was sixteen with an itch to scratch.

“A view like this? Not anytime soon.”

Something in the tone of his voice makes me glance at him over my shoulder. Was he talking about me?

He’s standing less than a foot behind me. Gone is the dark suit jacket he’d been wearing. His hair is mussed like he ran his fingers through it and didn’t bother to straighten it again.

“Mediocre pickup line,” I say. “But I’ll give you a three for effort.”

He grabs my waist in his massive hands and turns me on the spot so I’m facing him.

Good thing I’m not scared of heights, because the glass standing between me and certain death seems flimsy at best. Especially when he steps closer and forces me flush against it.

“Aye, but you’re forgetting one key detail. I’ve already picked you up.”

Cillian ducks his head to kiss me and in sheer panic, I turn away.

His laugh sends a puff of warm air against my cheek. “Why don’t we cut the blushing bride, nervous virgin act, hmm? I already told you what I was going to do to you.”

He did. He literally did.

But I still came up here.