𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘
I sat up, steadying myself on my elbow, then brushed her hair away from her face, staring at her marred ear. "I made an appointment with a doctor to get this fixed."
She turned to face me, the soft pink of her nipples forcing my gaze away from her face. "You want to fix my scars?"
I looked at her. "I can't promise it'll work. But I think it's worth a try."
"Zoloft already tried. Not even one of the best plastic surgeons on his payroll could fix it." There was a slight hint of animosity in her voice. I didn't like it.
"Anna, it's worth a try."
"Why? Do my scars bother you?"
I sat up straight. "The fuck it does. No. It's not about the goddamn scars, it's about righting what that fucker did to you."
