The Scarred One

by Sam Crescent

  Once again his touch awakened the desire in her body, and she hated him all the more for it. She’d seen how dangerous he was firsthand. There was no way she’d ever trust him enough to get close to him.

  He released her face, and she stared at him, waiting.

  “Don’t speak words you don’t understand.”

  “I know what I saw,” she said.

  “Seeing is not fucking knowing. You and I both know that bastard you were fucking would have killed you. I saved your life. I deserve a little fucking respect.”

  “You’re mean and cruel.”

  “And I’m never going to change, so stop taking what I say personally. I don’t think about what I fucking say, I never have. You’re beautiful, and you should already know how beautiful you actually are.” He cupped her cheek, surprising her further.

  “I hate you.”

  “Good. You don’t even know me.” He took a step back.

  She went to open her mouth to growl at him some more, but the squeak of tires interrupted her.

  Henry glanced toward the sound as a van with blackened out windows pulled up beside them on the road. “Fuck, run, Lydia.”

  Three men poured out of the van attacking Henry before he got to his gun. She watched the weapon fall to the floor as they started to hurt him. Instead of running, she threw herself at them, hoping to stop them from hurting him. She hated violence in all forms.

  She was no match for them, and neither was Henry. One of the men slammed his fist against the side of her face and slammed her against the brick wall. Everything suddenly went black.

  Chapter Two

  Henry groaned as he opened his eyes. Fuck, he must have drunk too much last night and gotten into a fight.

  “Great, you’re awake.”

  He knew that voice. What the fuck was Lydia doing near him? Lifting his head up, he groaned at the sudden explosion in his head. The events of the previous night swarmed him, and he sat up taking in his surroundings. Last night he’d not recognized any of the men who’d attacked them. They’d gotten to him before he could draw his weapon. Henry had lost his temper when he saw one of the men attack Lydia.

  Glancing around him, he saw he was on a bed with one of his hands tied to the headboard.

  “What the fuck?” He saw Lydia was sitting with her hand bound in the same position as his, and they were both on the same bed. There were a couple of lights in the musty smelling room.

  “Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” She rested her head back, and he saw the dark purple bruise on her cheek.

  “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

  “Do you even know who did this or why?” she asked, rolling her head toward him. “My head is really hurting, and I stink.”

  “No, I’ve not got a clue who they are or what they want.” His head and ribs were killing him. One of his hands was free and he lifted his shirt to see the bruising spreading across his chest and stomach. He’d put up a fight, but three against one had been insane odds to win. Henry winced at the pain.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I will be. I’ve had a lot worse done to me before.”

  “They were not exactly friendly, were they?”

  He kept staring at her face. When he got his hands on the man who hurt her, he was going to kill him.

  “No, they weren’t. Does it hurt?” he asked, reaching out to cup her bruised face.

  “It hurts everywhere. He threw me against the wall.”

  The low lighting made it a nightmare to look, but he wanted to check her out in case she had any internal bleeding.

  “I want you to shuffle off the bed and stand up. Lift your dress up and show me where it hurts,” he said.

  “I’m not getting naked for you to mock me.”

  “I won’t mock you. I need to know that you’re okay. Please, do as I ask.”

  “No, I’m not showing you my fat body.” She glared at him, the fire spitting at him from her brown eyes.

  “Look, you’re not fucking fat, okay? I said some mean shit to you to get you to leave. You’re not fat. You’re perfect. Now hike your dress up so I can see if you’re hurt.” He’d been mean on purpose. The scent of lavender had invaded his senses the moment she stood beside him in the bar. He didn’t like how easily she affected him. Seeing the barman who didn’t have a single scar on his body or within his body, Henry had lashed out. Men like Richard the barman could have whatever he wanted. For so long he’d been satisfying his need with faceless whores whom he paid to give him what he wanted.

  Jealousy.

  The emotion had taken him completely by surprise, and he hated how vulnerable it made him.

  “You’re not serious.”

  “I’m deadly serious. I got rock hard from seeing you in that dress, and believe me, I’d come inside a whore’s mouth twenty minutes before I saw you.” She groaned, looking sick. “Yeah, I know I’m disgusting, but this is who I am.”

  “I don’t need to know about your sex life. I’ve never been mean to you.”

  “You tried to break Donna and Caleb up.”

  “She was innocent to everything he’s ever done. I was looking out for her. Why can’t you see that?” Lydia asked. “You’ve hated me from the moment you shot and killed Darren. This has nothing to do with me.”

  “Just stand up and show me your fucking body so I can stop worrying. I don’t want to have to be on Caleb and Donna’s shit list because you’re dead.”

  She growled but did as he asked, moving to the edge of the bed. He saw her stand and slowly work her tied hand across the headboard.

  “You better keep your nasty as shit comments to yourself.” She reached across her body and started to work her dress up her body.

  He was a horrible man as he started to get aroused. She wore silk stockings and suspenders that went to her mid-thigh. The small black panties settled over her crotch, and he would have given anything to see if she was bare or had a small thatch of curls. She was turning him the fuck on with need.

  Lydia presented her back to him. “Well, can you see anything?” she asked.

  He’d not been paying attention. The panties she wore were in fact a thong. The thin piece of material nestled between the cheeks of her ass, and he’d give anything to be that small piece of fabric. Forcing himself to look away from the tempting curves, he checked out her back. She was badly bruised from being thrown against the wall, but he couldn’t see any signs of her bleeding or damage. He was no doctor, but through his years as a fighter, he’d learned some valuable lessons.

  “Well?”

  “You’re fine. It’s going to hurt like hell. You’re bruised.”

  She dropped her dress, and he wished he’d given her another reason to keep it hiked up. Slowly, she moved back into the space on the bed.

  Silence fell between them. Staring at her feet, he saw her stockings hadn’t survived the attack or the kidnapping.

  “What do you think they’ll do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know who they are or what they want.” He glanced at her, wishing she’d turn to look at him.

  “You’re so calm. How are you not losing your shit?”

  “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. About five years ago I was screwing a whore in one of the towns where Caleb had started up some new contacts. I didn’t pay attention, and she was a lure to get me vulnerable. I was taken for three days. Caleb struck a deal, got me out, and we killed the bastards for taking me. This is not new to me. They’ll tell us what we want, maybe even try to scare us. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

  He tried to reassure her, leaving out the part of the torture they’d dished out to pass the time. Henry really hoped they left Lydia alone. He didn’t want her to get hurt.

  More silence followed, and he took the time to listen to what was happening. He heard people walking around upstairs, so the bedroom had to be in the basement. There were no windows to speak of, and that gave another clue that they had to be underground.<
br />
  “Do you think Caleb will find us?” she asked.

  “Yeah, he’ll find us.”

  With his free hand he searched his pockets to find them empty. Not surprising really, it meant they’d kidnapped people before, but how far would they go with him?

  He looked down on the bed to see her hand opening and closing into a fist.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “No.”

  He reached over and placed his hand over hers. “Stop.”

  “Okay, I’m nervous. I’ve never been kidnapped before, and I’m scared. I don’t want to die.” Tears filled her eyes, and they cut him to the core to see.

  “Lydia, I promise, nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”

  “I wouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.” The door to their room opened. Henry didn’t release Lydia’s hand, but he took his time to see there was a set of steps that led upstairs. Two men entered the room, closing the door behind them.

  Henry didn’t recognize them either.

  “I can keep promises. You don’t need to hurt her,” Henry said. Both men were dressed in classy suits. Neither of them spoke of being associated with a lowlife criminal or gang.

  “We’ll do what we think is necessary.” One of the men stepped forward. His hands were behind his back, thrusting his chest out. Henry looked from one man to the other, trying to figure out which one was in charge. He wasn’t stupid. A lot of their business associates thought he was dumb, but he acted that way so they wouldn’t take him too seriously. He always had his and Caleb’s best interests at heart.

  Leaning against the headboard, he watched them both. He wouldn’t be the one doing all the talking. They’d kidnapped him, and he wasn’t going to give them anything.

  “I’m sure you’re curious as to why you’re here?” the man in front said.

  Henry stared, waiting for them to continue.

  “I don’t think he’s listening.” This came from the man behind him.

  Lydia stayed tense beside him. He was pleased she hadn’t started begging for her life or sniveling. There was only so much he could take.

  “I’m not the one who wants to chat, boys,” he said, smiling between the two men. “You were the ones who were impatient and took me off the street. I’m waiting to see what you’ve got to say.”

  “You’re Caleb Cassel’s bodyguard, Henry.”

  No one was ever interested in learning his full name.

  “So?”

  “So, we’re interested in a deal going down between your boss and Elijah Weston.”

  Okay, drugs. That put them in one category. They were dealers themselves and didn’t like being cut out of the deal. He could handle this, but it would also require Caleb and Elijah.

  “There are a lot of deals going on. You’re going to have to tell me which one upsets you.”

  “Who’s the bitch?” the one in the back asked.

  “What’s your name?” Henry asked, looking at the man nearest him. He didn’t want any of them looking at Lydia. She was not part of this, and he was going to do everything to stop them from looking at her.

  “Why should we tell you?”

  “You know my name, and yet I can’t know the man who kidnapped me off the street. It wasn’t nice, by the way. You suck at kidnapping. Now, if you’d been nice to me we could have discussed this properly.” He released a sigh. “Whatever, talking’s for pussies.”

  “I’m Leon, and that’s Bill.” Leon was the man closest to the bed. “Now, tell us who the bitch is.”

  “She’s my whore.” He tightened his hand around her so she’d get the message that he was working.

  “She sure doesn’t look like one of the whores you frequent. She’s too homely looking,” Bill said, staring at her.

  He didn’t want any of them looking at her.

  “She’s got a nice tight cunt, ass, and mouth. It’s all I need.” He looked at her, knowing she was cursing him with every second that passed. “Now, how about we go upstairs and discuss this like normal people. Being tied to a bed is creeping me out.”

  ****

  How dare he treat her like that?

  Lydia fumed as she looked around the room. She really needed to use the bathroom, but Leon and Bill had taken Henry the bastard out of the room. No one was with her, and she was tied to the bed.

  Whore!

  God, the only reason she hadn’t called him out on it was because of the way he held her hand. This was Henry’s job, his business. She was not related to this kind of business in any way. Blowing out a breath, she pressed her legs together. She really needed to pee, and it was getting harder for her to focus on anything else.

  Minutes passed, and when she could no longer stand the pain of needing the toilet, she started to shout.

  “Hey, I’ve done nothing wrong. I deserve the chance to go to the toilet.” She waited to see if her words drew any attention. Nothing happened. Frustrated, annoyed, and desperate, she started to scream.

  Finally, the door opened, and she saw Bill glaring at her.

  “What?”

  “I really need to pee.” The glare on his face made her wish she hadn’t started shouting. Without Henry around, she didn’t know how to react or what to do.

  Bill charged into the room. He grabbed her arm roughly and released her hand from the bind on the bed. She tried to rub her wrist, but he tugged her across the room toward the door. He practically dragged her upstairs.

  “Your whore wanted the toilet.” Bill threw her to the floor in front of Henry. “Well, she’s your bitch, deal with her.”

  Lydia made to get to her feet, but a gun pointed at her head made her pause. She stared up at Henry, but he was staring at Bill.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “I’m not a bitch. You take her to the toilet and deal with her.” Bill’s cruel voice told her he was going to do something more.

  “We’re waiting for Caleb to get here for this deal to go down and you want to waste my time with her pissing?”

  The humiliation was complete.

  “I don’t give a fuck. We’re the ones in charge here, not you. Show the whore how to be treated.”

  A shiver worked down her spine. This was not going to go well.

  “Come on, get up,” Henry said, reaching down toward her.

  “No, a whore doesn’t get to walk around. Make her crawl to the toilet.”

  “I’m not going to make her crawl to the toilet.” Henry folded his arms glaring.

  “She’s a whore. She either crawls like the whore she is or I shoot her in the head. I’m not bargaining with Caleb for your woman. I’m bargaining with your boss for business.” Bill pointed the gun at Henry. “Now make the bitch crawl.”

  Lydia stared up at Henry in time to see him grit his teeth.

  “Come on, bitch, you heard the man. Crawl.”

  This was the worst night of her life. She really couldn’t remember a time she’d been more humiliated.

  Closing her eyes, she forced the tears back as she slowly crawled her way, following after Henry.

  “She’s one fat whore. I did hear you weren’t right in the head with all your scars.” Bill kept taunting, and there were several other men to witness this degradation. Every second that passed Bill kept throwing more insults her way. “There’s the bathroom. Hurry the fuck up. You’ve got no chance of escape, so I wouldn’t even try it.”

  Still crawling on the floor she waited for Henry to open the door before she made her way inside. Once the door was closed she slumped down and covered her face with her hands. The situation she was in finally hit home.

  “Come on, don’t let them do this.”

  Lydia sobbed into her hands, wishing something was different. She hated what was happening.

  Henry pulled her hands away. He was crouched down in front of her. The concern was easy to see on his face. “Do not let them win this, Lydia. We’re going to get out of this alive.”

  He was whisperin
g, and so she whispered back. “You don’t know that.”

  “I know we’re going to get out of here alive. Now, go to the toilet before they start to test me.”

  “I don’t want to go in front of you.” She was mortified at the prospect of him listening to her pee.

  “Baby, I’ve heard a lot worse in my time than a piss. Come on, go to the toilet.” He helped her to her feet.

  “Thank you,” she said. Her cheeks were red hot from embarrassment.

  “Please, don’t worry, Lydia. Take a piss and then we’ll go out there and face them all together.”

  She glanced up to see him facing the wall.

  Removing the stockings she threw them in the corner, no longer wanting them on her body. She had wanted to feel sexy when Donna invited her out. Lydia hadn’t been with a man since Darren, and she wanted to connect with someone.

  The last person she expected to be connecting to was Henry. A few hours ago he’d insulted her, and now she was finding him sweet.

  Get a grip on yourself, Lydia.

  She sat on the toilet covering her face with her hands as she relieved herself.

  “Why do you work at a hotel?” Henry asked.

  Dropping her hands, she stared at his back. “What?”

  “I was just curious why you left Dreams, the jewelry store, when you were making good money.”

  “The risk of getting robbed is a lot higher in Dreams. After Donna left because of her pregnancy and living with Caleb, I didn’t see the point in staying.” She’d been to a couple of jobs before landing the one as a receptionist in a hotel chain. The work wasn’t challenging while some of the clients were rude, disrespectful, but at least she wasn’t at risk of being terrified.

  “The job sucks. I’ve seen the way some of the men treat you. You shouldn’t be working in a hotel.”

  “You’re seriously talking to me about my job while we’re in this situation? We’ve been kidnapped, and you’re striking a deal about drugs. It sucks.”

  “I’ve got nothing else to do with my time.”

  “Why aren’t you looking for a way out?” she asked, getting off the toilet and washing her hands.

  “I’ve already checked, babe. The window is locked tight, and I imagine they’ve got men on the outside who’re waiting for me to slip up.” His words didn’t fill her with any kind of comfort.