The scars of you (The scars series Book 1) Page 7
“That’s the only place I know she is safe,” he mumbles. “Listen, I gotta go. We need to meet tomorrow with the detective. I’ll call him and arrange a time. I’ll be in touch.”
I end the call, pushing it onto the table beside the bed.
“The bath should be ready. Can you make it into the bathroom?”
She pushes herself up, her legs shaky at first, but she steadies herself by holding onto the arm of the chair. “I’m good,” she says with a smile, shuffling one foot forward, but I notice her legs buckle and I race over, putting my arm around her waist to steady her.
“Walk with me, for fuck sakes,” I mutter out of frustration.
“I’ll be okay after a rest. It’s the shock, it must just be the shock,” she repeats and I sense the panic in her tone.
“Of course.” I say with an assertive nod. Leading her over to the bathtub, I rest her ass down on the side, shutting off the faucet.
“Thank you,” she mouths to me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ask away, darling. Can’t promise I’ll answer.”
“Do you think this was my fault? Part of me feels like I brought this on myself.”
“No, I already told you to stop fucking talking that way,” I respond with a growl.
“Look at me,” she sniffles, tears starting to fall from her already swollen eyes. “Look how I’m dressed. I asked for this. I made this happen.” Her sniffles turn into an uncontrollable sob. I kneel in front of her, resting my hands against her badly grazed knees.
“Why the fuck would you say that? That guy was a sick fuck and had it coming to him. He steps on our turf, forcing his dick on the boss’ cousin… well that’s a sure-fire way to get yourself killed around here,” I say with a lift of my brow. She leans forward, her arms around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t thank me. Just doing my job.”
I push her back, feeling uncomfortable at having her arms around me. “You should get in before it’s too fucking cold.” I jump onto my feet, turning to make my way out.
“No! Stay,” she blurts out, swiping her hand across her face clearing the stray tears away. “I need you to know that what happened back there, well, that’s not me.”
“What are you talking about?” I question her, unsure of what exactly she is referring to.
“You know. That whole thing between you and me…” she points between us. “And Jess.”
“Oh,” I say with a lift of my head, narrowing my eyes on her.
“I was high and wanted to get your attention. She told me this was the right way. She said this would make you want me… because I wasn’t sure you’d be interested in someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
“Yeah. Carter’s cousin. Young. Inexperienced.”
“Stay away from Jess. She’s trouble, and she’s been kicked out, told never to return.”
“I think she was trying to help me...” the words fall out of the naïve girl’s mouth. There is only one person Jess cares about and that’s herself.
“You are young and fucking beautiful. Why the fuck would you be interested in me?” I ask, my thoughts flashing back to the biker laid on the floor, blood splayed everywhere. This is more than just a job for me. I get some sick satisfaction from taking these fuckers lives. I’m sparing the world from the motherfuckers who deserve nothing but death.
Death follows me.
“You’re Carter’s cousin…”
“It’s not a problem for Carter…” she replies, clutching her hands in front of her and looking up at me through her long, dark lashes.
I can’t deny that this girl gets my dick stiff. “This isn’t about you…”
“You can talk to me, Brax. Even if it’s just as friends.”
“Nothing to talk about,” I snap.
“We all have a story, Brax,” she says, clutching at the hem of her top as she tries to lift it over her head. The grimace on her face lets me know she’s in pain.
“Need a hand?”
“Please,” she exhales heavily; letting out the huge breath she’s been holding as she fights back the pain. I can tell she’s nervous. Her lips shake and her eyes are fixed on me.
I pull up her top, revealing her bruised upper body. She stands up, resting her palm against the wall as she steadies herself. I reach around and unfasten her bra as she clutches to the front, holding it in place. I slowly pull down her skirt, revealing her naked body. A small gasp escapes her.
“I think I’m good now,” her words fall out with a stutter.
“Drop the bra,” I demand and her eyes widen with shock. “I’m making sure you get in the bathtub,” I clarify. “Don’t want you slipping or hurting yourself. Carter would have my head on a stake.”
She laughs nervously, her eyes focusing on the floor. I grab her chin, lifting it until our eyes meet. “What’s wrong, Tara?”
“I, uh, I don’t know. I just feel a little exposed I guess.”
“Wait. The girl who sucked my cock is suddenly shy?”
“Like I said, I was high. But here, with you, in the cold light of day, well it’s kind of nerve-wracking.”
I drop my hand, shaking my head before scooping her into my arms and lowering her into the bath of water. She hisses as I lower her down, my eyes searching hers.
“Sorry…”
“Don’t fucking apologize.” I step back, shaking off the water on my arms. I reach to the back of my neck, grabbing my shirt, pulling it over my head and throwing it on the floor. I reach down to the button on my jeans and pop it open. I slowly glance up at Tara whose eyes are fixed on me and her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. A small grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. I push down my jeans and kick them on the floor. Her eyes draw down to my erection straining against my boxers. “I’ll be in there,” I say with a jab of my thumb. “Shout me if you need help.”
She swallows down hard, nodding lightly.
I make my way out, dropping back on the bed, a range of emotions flowing through me. Tara is fucking beautiful and I can’t deny how much I want her. But every time I feel something for a girl, I can’t help the guilt that rages through me like a motherfucking tornado. Why do I feel something for a girl I haven’t seen in over six years? I always thought she’d be my first and only one, and every girl I fuck just isn’t Isabelle. But here and now, I can’t deny how much I like Tara, and that fills me with the worst kind of dread possible.
I close my eyes and drift off into a world of wonderful memories.
“Do you think we’ll always be together, Brax?” Her beautiful voice matches her beautiful eyes.
“How can you even ask me that?” I tut loudly. “Of course.” I reach out, taking her hand in mine, intertwining my fingers with hers. “See, even our hands fit together perfectly,” I say, then smile. I stare into her baby-blue eyes, the window to her soul. I step forward a little, causing her to stumble back until her body rests against the oak tree.
“Isabelle,” I address her, clearing my throat as I feel it tighten. “I need to tell you something,” I say, nerves lacing my tone.
“What?” she quietly gasps. “What is it, Brax?”
I’m nervous and it’s beginning to show. The last thing I want is to alarm her. “I don’t want to be friends anymore,” I say, squeezing her hand tighter in mine.
“What?” She glares at me, her eyebrows drawn down together.
“I want you so much more than a friend,” I add, and watch as she bites the corner of her lip. She pulls my hand toward her chest, resting it on those tits I’ve had my eye on for years.
“We are destined to be together,” she murmurs. “Feel it. Feel how hard my heart beats when we are together, Brax.”
I lean into her, wrapping my arms around her waist. “I’d really like to kiss you now,” I forewarn her.
“I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me for months,” she says with a twi
nkle in her eye. I bend my head, hovering my lips over hers. I’m frozen from both excitement and a little fear. I feel her warm breath shaking against my lips.
“What are you waiting for, Brax?” she teases, her voice wavering.
“I want it to be perfect,” I reply honestly. The truth is I’ve waited so long for this moment to come that I’m scared I will mess it up. That I won’t kiss her the way someone in love kisses.
“We are Brax and Isabelle. We are meant to be and I have no doubt that it will be perfect. I know it will be perfect. More than perfect.”
I allow my eyes to flutter shut. I let my actions do the talking as I press my lips against hers. As soon as we make that connection, I can no longer hold back. I clutch her head in my shaky hands. Everything about this is sensory overload. Her smell, the taste of her lips against mine seduces me, and I can no longer think straight. I move my lips against hers, hoping that I’m doing this kissing thing right.
“Brax,” she whispers slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor them. I smile, my heart fluttering at her voice as I hold onto this girl who owns my heart. Never before has my name ever felt so wonderful a one, I think, as I lean in for another kiss…
“I knew it,” his voice calls over, laced with annoyance. “I knew I would end up the odd one out.” I part from Isabelle, the sinking feeling in my stomach ties like a damn knot. I rest the palm of my hand against the tree trunk, one hand either side of her head, while slowly turning to look at him.
Travis.
Our goofy friend.
The one I’ve been giving the slip all day so I could get some time alone with Isabelle.
The moment I see the look on his face is the moment I can no longer feel anything but the need to smile.
“So, this…” he points a wavering finger directly at me, “this is the reason you were acting all weird earlier. And, ugh, you two are so gross.”
I chuckle to myself, watching as he pushes his glasses up his nose.
“No,” Isabelle, blurts out. “I don’t ever want you to feel left out,” she says with a slight pout, ducking under my arms and jogging over to Travis. “I love you, Trav,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and knocking him off-balance. They both fall to the ground and laughter fills the wide-open space that surrounds us. They roll on the ground, before Isabelle falls onto her back, holding her stomach as she looks at Trav. “It’s us three until the end of time.” She grabs his hand, pulling it toward her. Isabelle studies the sad look on his face. His mouth is downturned and his eyes fill with the dew of tears as though he’s on the verge of crying.
“I love you too,” he mumbles, his eyes flit between me and Izzy. “But I get it,” he says, throwing his hands in the air before turning his head to the side until they are face to face. “You just love him more.”
“No,” she gasps, pushing herself up, resting her whole weight on one hand. “It’s not like that,” she replies, her eyes looking at me, full of dread. “It’s a different kind of love. Not more, not less, just different.” She starts to prod his side, causing him to jerk up. I walk over to them, putting my arm around Travis’ neck and pulling him downward until I have him in a neck lock. I rub my knuckles over his hair as he yells and tries to get me to let go.
“Stop,” Izzy slaps my arm playfully. “Let him go,” she demands with a lift of her brow.
I smile, lessening my grip on him.
“We have to make a pact,” she says, gesturing for us to move closer. Placing her one arm around my waist and the other around Travis’, we stand in a circle, heads together. “No matter what happens, we are here for each other.” She glances between us and we both nod in agreement.
“Always,” I say, fixing my gaze on Travis.
“I don’t want to get in your way…” but he’s cut off by Izzy’s finger pressed against his lips.
“Shhhh,” she says with a lift of her brow. “We are a three piece, and that’s how it will stay.”
I put my hand into the middle of the circle we’ve created, and Travis takes it, along with Izzy’s hand covering us. “The three amigos,” I say with a chuckle before we raise our hands together and cheer.
“The three amigos,” Isabelle cheers.
The sudden sound of a voice calling me pulls me from my semi-consciousness. I jump up, my heart pounding and my body feeling heavy. Every time I dream of them it takes me back to the moment and the pain I felt when I lost them both.
Both friends in one day.
The two parts of me that made my heart complete were ripped away.
Only I cling onto the hope that I will get her back. I have to believe she is still out there and I can be the one to save her. Nothing and nobody can simply disappear the way she did. I will never believe she just left me. I rub my thumb across my lips at the memory of our first kiss. When I dream of her, I feel transported to a place where I was once happy.
“Brax,” I hear her call me again and I jump to my feet making my way over to the bathroom.
“I hate to ask, but can you help me out? I tried, I really did, but I just haven’t got the strength back in my legs yet.” She says, despair in her eyes.
I smile the smallest of smiles before charging over to the tub and wrapping my arms around her waist. I lift her up, throwing her over my shoulder. I turn, grabbing a towel from the rack, covering her ass as I make our way into the bedroom. Dropping her flat on her back, she scrambles to cover herself with the towel wedged beneath her.
I can’t help the grin that spreads as my eyes rake over her naked body.
“Asshole,” she jokes, pulling out the towel and covering her body.
“No need to be shy. We’re all friends here,” I say smugly, giving her a wink before handing her the clothes I got out for her earlier.
“I’m going to shower now. You should rest. Your body needs to heal.” I can’t stop my eyes from focusing on the bruising around her neck, the anger rising in me as I do. Heat rushes to my head and I have to stop.
Stop looking at the beautiful girl on the bed.
I shower, scrubbing the traces of blood from my skin. The water was way too cool, but I needed to cool my skin. The asshole in me wants to fuck that beauty laid out on my bed, whereas the fucked up part of my brain that can’t let go takes over.
It’s a constant battle with my inner turmoil. My body chasing what it desires while my mind is stuck in the past. With the one girl who could make me complete. The one girl who could pull my soul from the depths of darkness, and force it back into the light where it once was.
I skim the towel over my skin, before securing it around my waist. Slowly exiting the bathroom, I peer into the dark bedroom. I look over at Tara, her body still and her eyes closed, the towel still covering her tiny bruised body. I walk around the bed, grabbing my phone from the nightstand before turning to make my way out. I startle at the feeling of the towel being ripped from my body, blinking rapidly as I try to work out what has happened. My eyes catch sight of Tara clutching the towel in her hands and a puff of laughter escapes me.
“Touché,” I smile widely, walking over and snatching the towel from her hands.
“You don’t have to leave,” she mumbles, pushing herself across the bed a little. “Plenty of space for two,” she says coyly, tapping the bed in front of her.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I dismiss, wrapping the towel around my waist and taking the few steps over to the door.
“Stop,” her voice croaks as her voice gives out. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“You won’t be,” I reply. “I’ll be downstairs. On the couch.”
“No, I mean, I don’t want to be in here alone.”
What the fuck can I say to that? I said I’d look after her, not become her damn boyfriend, despite how fucking good it would be to spoon this tasty piece of ass. I stand near the door for what feels like the longest time, chewing the corner of my mouth, torn on what I should do.
“Please,” she pleads, a
nd it’s almost too much.
“I sleep naked. No fucking complaints.” I charge over to the bed and slip in beside her.
“Me too,” she replies sweetly, throwing off the towel and sliding under the covers.
I lift my arm up, pushing my hands under my head. I can feel her hard stare on me, and I drop my head toward her. “Sleep,” I warn her, hoping to slip out as soon as she drops off.
“Yes, boss,” she replies with a giggle. “Are you always this bossy?”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, babe.”
I stand in front of the full-length mirror looking at the stranger staring back. I’m wearing the clothes he has set out for me, and they are truly beautiful. It’s the first time I’ve ever worn something so figure-hugging on my body. Part of me doesn’t want to believe I’m the beautiful girl in the mirror, because my beauty hides the broken parts that cannot be seen.
I smooth my hands down the front of the black dress, making sure I’m the vision of perfection.
“Isabelle,” he calls to me, his hands held out in front of him as he cocks his head to the side. “My darling, you look amazing. I have a little treat for you,” he says with a huge smile, but I can’t help the way my stomach rolls in fear of his treat.
“Meet Jazz, she’s a very good friend of mine.”
I feel the sick rising in my throat, the uncertainty plays havoc with my heart rate and it’s soon pounding uncontrollably. But I can’t show him my fear. I have to bury it deep and plaster on a fake smile.
“Nice to meet you, Jazz,” I say with a wide smile, offering her my hand.
“Well, aren’t you just the cutest,” she shakes my hand, pulling the corner of her lip into her mouth. I allow my gaze to fall over her, studying her. She’s immaculate. Her red hair is loosely curled. And long. So damn long, almost reaching her ass. Her skin is flawless and her make-up is done to perfection.
“So, what’s the brief today, Boss?”
“Classy, beautiful, elegant. That’s the brief.”
“That will be easy with this beauty,” she says, taking my chin in her hand, tilting my head upward until my eyes meet hers. I wonder if she knows I’m a hostage, that I’m not here of my own accord. That I’m being physically and mentally abused by this guy. The guys she refers to as her boss.