by Samantha Bee
Kade hates me. It’s there in every look, every inflection of his voice, every tense muscle on his body. The worst part is, he should. I deserve his anger, his hate, his disgust. He offered me more and I threw it in his face and abandoned him. Again. I hate myself too.
Declan glares at him but I can see the flash of recognition in those blue eyes of his. He turns to look at me and I know he’s struggling to not pull me close in comfort. Even he has been subtly pushing me to make amends.
Kade notices where my attention has drifted to and leans into my space and drops his voice down to a whisper. “Is that what you want, Ladybug? Alcohol soaked cheap flings?” I recoil sharply at the sound of my nickname on his lips, something inside me being pried open the longer he stands in front of me. Every doubt, every regret, every fear, and wish of being braver, stronger for my men, pouring out of the vault I had locked them in as his smell invades my senses.
I shake in my seat and I can’t help but clench my thighs at having him so close. I’ve missed Kade. My body has missed him. My pussy is currently doing the tango in my jeans after recognizing the scent that is so keenly Kade, manly and warm, like bergamot but with the undertone of baby powder.
His husky chuckle shoots through me and I know he hasn’t missed my reaction to him. He was always a lot sharper than anyone gave him credit for, including me. “I bet if I pushed my fingers into you, I’d find your cunt already dripping.”
His low voice pulls at the yearning inside me, dampening my panties even more, proving his words to be right. What happened to the strong kick ass female that I am? Where is she when faced with her very clearly, and rightfully, pissed off ex? Is Kade even my ex? Does that count?
I’m not sure. But some bitch stole my tongue and I’d really like it back so I can stop just gaping at Kade. His amusement and voice are all wrong. None of the love and adoration that threaded all of his teasing and taunting like before. Now his words are laced with malice and betrayal. I guess I did betray him. I want to open my mouth and say something, say anything, but I just stare up at him, opening and closing my mouth like a damn fish. Scared at what could possibly escape.
Would I apologize? I fucking should. Beg for him, for them, to take me back? Fuck. I can’t. I left for a reason. I chose revenge. Would I tell him I regret my choice? Do I? The high of everything I’ve accomplished isn’t the same without them, but would I really be able to live with walking away and not getting my pound of flesh?
“No words then, Scar?” he taunts but still I can’t bring myself to vocalize any of the emotions spiraling through me at the moment. Not even a simple apology. Not that I think it would be enough. “Well, that’s okay, I guess you prefer it this way.” Kade surprises me by grabbing my arm and yanking me with him as he pulls me towards the back of the bar. I meet D’s worried eyes and shake my head as he gets up to follow us.
“What are we doing?” I finally manage to stutter out, sounding nothing like my usual cocksure self. I have no fucking idea who I have been reduced into in this moment. It’s not a bitch I recognize and not one I really like either. But I feel helpless as I follow in Kade’s wake. His dark and angry energy pulsating out around him and stealing the air from my very lungs.
“Testing my theory,” he spits out as he drags me into the bathroom and locks the door behind us. “No words then, Scar?” He repeats his question from the bar as he pushes me up against the sink and threads his hands into my hair, pulling it tightly until I feel the sting on my scalp. “You have nothing to say after two months of radio silence?”
I open my mouth, but words still don’t come to me and he tightens his grip on my hair. “No, you don’t want words,” he answers his own question as he forces my head to the side and leans his forehead to the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “You don’t want feelings,” he continues as he deftly flicks open the button on my jeans and pushes the zipper down. A part of me knows I should stop this. Use the fucking words I can’t seem to find and maybe try to fix what I broke. Or walk away?
I can’t tell what I want anymore. I don’t know who I am. What the fuck I even need to continue breathing, to live with myself and my choices. I just don’t fucking know. I’ve gotten lost in the chaos, drifted from any sense of power I had. The storm has consumed me until I’m left unable to deal with any of the messes I made because I’m too fucking lost, too goddamn broken to even realize what I want.
Kade slides his hand into my pants and underwear and groans when he feels how slick I already am for him. I should be ashamed but all I can feel is want for this man. A desperate urgent plea from my body to consume his. To let him consume me. To forget all of the regrets and pain between us and bask in our mutual pleasure even just for a little bit. I rock into his hand as his biting tone continues. “No love for poor, broken, little Scar.”
His words hurt, his caustic tone burns, but for some fucked up reason, it pushes my need for him higher. My want more primal. I feel myself growing wetter and I know Kade doesn’t miss it either. “No affectionate touches,” he snaps a moment before his teeth sink into my flesh and his fingers forcibly push into my cunt.
I moan and gasp at the roughness in which Kade finger fucks me. His brutal pace and savage grip in my hair as his teeth continue to mark me settle a desire in me, one I didn't realize I had until this moment. To feel hurt, to be punished, to be brutalized.
Just as quickly as he entered me, he pulls out of me, leaving me feeling desperate and needy for more. I shake as I stand there in front of him, but he gives me no time to process anything that has just happened. He relinquishes his hold on me before grabbing my shoulders and spinning me around to face the mirror. He bends me over the sink as he forces my pants down. Before I can even take a breath, he’s pushing his long hard length into me. Just as rough as he was with his fingers, he has no mercy as he pistons into me with a punishing force.
His fingers dig into my hips so hard that I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow, but I relish in every ounce of destruction Kade brings to me. I deserve to be broken down by him, and punishment never felt so good. I cry out as the beginnings of an orgasm take over. I look into the mirror to see the man behind me so viciously pounding into me, but when I catch his eyes, he roars his disapproval. Leaning over me, he punches the mirror, shattering it, so I can no longer see him.
He bites my shoulder as I begin to spasm around him. He doesn’t slow down and fucks me through it until he reaches his own release, buried in me to the hilt. He releases his teeth from my shoulder and whispers, “I’m nothing but a fucking stranger to you, after all.”
His words feel like a dagger to my bruised and bleeding heart. I collapse against the sink, taking deep shaky breaths, trying to keep myself together. The high of the moment is gone as he pulls out of me and disappears from the bathroom, faster than I can even turn around. I hear the door slam shut and I sink to the nasty floor of this bar bathroom as the first tear rolls down my cheek. The passion and anger and lust quickly being replaced by a sense of such severe desolation I think I would have actually been better off if he cut my still beating heart out of my chest.
I’m helpless as shame washes through every pore of my body, every crevice of my being, and more tears spill from my cheeks. Kade just gave me everything I ever wanted from him. A quick fuck with no strings attached. Isn’t that all I ever needed? Craved? An easy release and way to let out the pent up adrenaline in my system?
The bathroom door is thrown open, but it isn’t the blonde asshole I so desperately need to come back and hold me in his arms. When did I become so reliant on the gentle physical touch he showered me with after we had sex? The disappointment of it not being Kade is quickly replaced by relief as I recognize Declan crashing to his knees in front of me.
He doesn’t hesitate in pulling me into his lap and against his chest as he vows, “If that fucker hurt you, I will kill him.”
I snort, but there’s no amusement in it. “In my world, vows like that are more serious tha
n you’re probably intending.” It’s a joke and a warning all wrapped into one. Declan doesn't know who I am or what I’m involved in, but he should be more careful with how he phrases things around me.
He grabs my face in his hands and forces me to look into his gray-blue eyes. “Did he hurt you, pretty girl? What did he do?” I can see the concern in his eyes, no judgment, no hate, just a need to know that I wasn't hurt beyond repair.
I drop my gaze from his as I shake my head. “He did exactly as I asked for,” I admit on a whisper, knowing the words are true. Kade gave me what I wanted and nothing more. So why do I feel so empty, in even more pieces than I was before? Why is the numbness coming back and threatening to spread across my body and down to my very heart until it can no longer pump blood through the rest of my body? Why does this pain feel so all consuming that it feels a hell of a lot like the end? Like I couldn’t possibly manage to keep breathing with this gaping wound left in my chest, visible only to me.
“Then why are you so upset?” he asks, but I can tell he already knows the answer. He’s probably known it since his absurd claim of friendship. He wants me to see it, to voice it, to put what he’s known all along into words. What they’ve all known all along.
“Because it’s not what I want anymore.”
Those seven words rip me open and tear me apart in a way like I’ve never experienced before. Leaving me more vulnerable and exposed than I’ve ever allowed myself to be. Declan gathers my exhausted body in his arms and takes me home to bed as I sob eight years’ worth of tears into his shoulder. I cry for every mistake I’ve made, every loss I’ve felt, every regret I have. Declan gets it all. I cry for my sisters, and my men, for the friendships I’ve abandoned, for Letty and the girl I used to be. I even cry for my parents.
He never stops the soothing strokes on my back, never questions or belittles. He just stands strong, my silent supporter as he accepts the eight years’ worth of grief, anger, pain, and regret. As I fall asleep in his arms, my face and his chest soaked with my breakdown, his fingers gently tracing patterns down my spine, a new feeling starts deep in my gut and slowly, almost unnoticeably starts to trickle through my system. My eyes get heavy and fall shut as the small seed of something new plants roots.
My last thought before I drift off is it feels a hell of a lot like healing.
Chapter Eight
A savage satisfaction fills me at the pain I see in Scar's eyes.
I've never craved someone's misery the way I'm craving hers. I've craved death, destruction, bones cracking underneath my fists, but never have I wanted to drink in another person's agony, bathe in their heartbreak and drown in their torment.
I only ever wanted her to be happy. Whole. Embracing the demons that make her so uniquely her.
I loved Letty, wanted to protect her, shield her from the world, bask in her light, all while feeling I wasn't deserving of it. Scar though? I think I might love her and hate her in equal parts. Have both respect and disdain for who she's become. Understand her attitude but still despise her for it. Especially now.
My cravings have turned into a living breathing beast in my chest, calling for her blood. Or at least her pain, her submission. I wanted to make her submit in every way possible, but I couldn't stay close to her for any longer.
I've never considered myself as having an addictive personality, but if I were an addict, she would be my drug of choice. I'm weak when it comes to her, caving into her desires, losing myself in her chaos, forgiving her for the destruction she creates.
Not this fucking time.
My anger beats to an angry rhythm in my chest that echoes through my body. I can't let go of the anger for even a moment. I'm too scared to see what will be left of me once I do.
Fuck.
I growl as I storm past the blonde douche and leave her in that disgusting bathroom.
Will that be the last time I see her?
Feel her?
Touch her?
Know her?
Fuck my anger is splintering into hurt. An ache so deep and ravenous it threatens to consume me whole, but I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to pull myself out of it once I fall. Even from afar that woman is the poison in my veins, slowly deteriorating my sense of self preservation.
Luca told me not to fight today. Joe told me he wouldn’t let me in until I cooled off. They want me to take a break and try to let some of the rage simmer before I kill too many lackies, I stop having opponents to fight. Fuck knows why I thought coming to this bar would help with that.
I still remember the way Scar felt pressed up against my body as we danced and drank that first night we reconnected. I never would have expected to find her there with some other fucking asshole. I seethe as I think about the way she smiled and laughed with him. Is she really just fucking fine without us?
Does she really not need us?
How could I have been so wrong about everything?
Every vivid memory is playing through my mind as I try to figure out just where I went so fucking wrong. I can't figure it out no matter how often I go through it.
I storm out of the bar, letting the rage burn away the agony. I can't let myself feel the pain. I can't be sucked down into that dark place.
I need to fight.
I need it like I need to breathe.
Fuck Luca.
Fuck Scar.
Fuck Joe.
I turn around and head straight for the fights. I need to vent this rage. I need to feel my knuckles split under the force of breaking bones with my blows. Need blood splattering across my face and chest. Need to inflict as much pain on someone else as the insane amount of emotion tearing me apart from the inside out.
Chapter Nine
"Still nothing," Noah curses as he pushes away from the desk so violently stacks of papers go flying across the room. His brown hair is unruly from how often he's been running his fingers through it, his glasses are skewed on his face. He rips them off his face and slams them down against the desk. I raise my brows at him as I study him. I knew how hard it was going to be to track Scar. I knew our chances were slim. He underestimated just how skilled she really is.
All we've found so far is a list of deaths that we can assume are her work. Heart attacks, car accidents, suicides, and just straight up disappearances that no one has marked suspicious or found any evidence of foul play, and yet evidence continues to pour out through the media exposing people for their crimes.
I sigh as I place my hand on his shoulder. "We knew it was a long shot." He shakes his head at me, and I'm struck with just how similar he is to Scar in this way. She despises when the answer is buried so deep in the mess around her, she can't work her way through it and find it. I see the same frustration pouring out of Noah. He needs something. He needs to do something. Find something. Unravel at least a part of the absolute fucking chaos we find ourselves in.
My phone rings, cutting off anything he might have responded with. His head slumps forward as I feel myself go tense as I answer the call. Ian's hesitant voice comes through the speaker. "Hey Boss."
I sigh, not even letting him finish before asking, "Another one?"
He huffs. "Yeah, Boss, he's in bad shape. I don't know what happened, but he's even worse than he has been."
Fuck. The cavernous void in my chest that has been growing every day since she left, pulses as it expands once more. As much as I'm hurting, seeing Kade's pain, watching Ryder fall even farther into his darkness, even realizing how Noah loses himself to his analytical side, all of it just amplifies my own. Makes my rage grow at the woman I've done nothing but love, cherish, and protect for years.
She's an endless source of frustration for me but never in all the time I've known her have I felt this keen sense of rage directed at her. For her? Every waking moment since her story spilled from her pretty lips. At her? Never.
It's an unfamiliar monster unfurling in my chest, gripping my bruised and bleeding heart demanding I protect them as much as I've protected her
all these years. Mostly, I just hate that she’s gone though. That the rest of us are together trying to work through this shit but can’t because we are missing the most vital piece of ourselves. The very piece that makes every heartbeat worth it.
"Look," Ian sighs. I tense waiting to hear what other bad news he could have for me. "I know you guys are all in rough shape right now."
I go to protest that, but he cuts me off. "You don't have to bullshit me. I have nothing but respect for both of you, but neither of you have been at your best since she left. I'm going to take Kade back to my place and force him sober. I suggest you do the same to Ryder. We can take them to Joe's tomorrow and hang out with the kids. You all need to figure out how the fuck to start functioning again or we are all going to die."
"No one is dying," I spit through my clenched jaw.
"Respectfully, sir, you brought us on board to prepare for war, don't act surprised now that it's at our doorstep. Put aside your hurt feelings and your fear and start leading us so we can win." I start cursing viciously but the fucker hangs up on me. I'm ready to launch my phone across the room when it starts ringing again.
"God fucking dammit. What the fuck now?" I hiss as I look down at the device in my hand that has become the bane of my existence.
Of fucking course.
It's Romano.
I trade looks with Noah. We haven't given him all of the details but it's hard to not put two and two together. He's figured out that Romano is who Scar is trying to get her revenge against. He's turned into a rabid beast tearing apart his own empire to figure out how all of this evidence is being leaked.
