All Beautiful Things by Nicki Salcedo

Author:Nicki Salcedo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks Inc.
Published: 2015-05-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

AVA HELD OUT a carving knife. She pointed it at him.

“My heart races every night. I don’t know if it’s fear or anger or panic. Certain nights I think I’m going to die. I wish I would die. I feel a hand holding my face to the ground. Time hasn’t made it hurt any less. What if we made a pinky promise? What if I pricked your finger? Do you think it would make me hurt less?”

She walked slowly toward him.

“What if I wanted to cut your face? Ladies love a man with a scar. Would you let me put this knife against your face? Do you trust me? How far are you willing to go to prove that your brother is innocent?”

He stood, but calmly. She advanced on him, but he didn’t back away. “What if you took off your shirt?” She pressed the knife to his tuxedo jacket. The firelight caused a flash of reflection. She traced a line along his collar bone from shoulder to throat. He didn’t flinch.

He spoke in a whisper. “Cut me if you want. I understand why you want to hurt me.”

He grabbed her hand and brought the knife close to his throat. Ava stumbled toward him.

“You are angry at me for being Joel’s brother. I’m angry at him, too. Is it my face or my body you want to scar?”

When she didn’t answer, he tossed her hand away and started to unbutton his shirt. One of his silver cufflinks skidded to the floor as he shrugged out of both the shirt and his jacket. Her eyes took in the broad expanse of his chest and the faint covering of dark hair that trailed down his abdomen. He was beauty. He was lean muscle and smooth skin. Ava’s hand started to fall to her side. She noticed two marks on his perfect body. A Greek letter branded into the side of his bicep and a terrible burn mark at the top of one hip.

“I’m surprised that you don’t like my scars,” he said. “Certainly a knife wouldn’t hurt as much as a burn. And you aren’t my family or even a friend, so why would it hurt?” His voice was clipped. He stepped toward her, and she backed away. “I’ve never been cut before. Be gentle with me.”

She shook her head. The section of burned skin at his waist disappeared into his pants. It was an odd location. Not like a hand that might accidentally touch a hot stove.

“I got that when I was nine. My father had already knocked me down a couple of times, and I kept getting up. He wanted to punish me in a way that I would remember. Bruises heal. Broken bones mend. He decided to burn me with an iron while my mother and brother watched. Joel was five years old; he doesn’t remember. They were the ones who screamed. Not me. My father held the iron to my skin until I passed out. All I could think is that if I could endure the pain, he wouldn’t kill my mother and Joel.

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