by K. C. Lynn
“Only because you’ll be wearing it.” She remains quiet, and I know it’s because she doesn’t believe me, not after what I said. “Look, Lia, I didn’t mean what I said back at the gym. With the scarf or without—you’re perfect.”
“But you were right, I am hiding,” she chokes out, tears flooding her eyes again. “I have to or he’ll kill me.”
Those terrified words put me in motion. Grabbing ahold of her shoulders, I search her gaze. “Who? Who is he?”
She lets go of a broken sob, shredding my fucking insides.
“Tell me, Lia, so I can help you.”
“Sophie,” she whispers.
My brows draw in confusion, thinking I misheard her. “What?”
“My name is Sophie Parish, not Lia Kay.”
Shock slams into me, her admission rocking me to my core. I knew she was hiding shit, but her name? Her identity?
“Please don’t be angry with me,” she pleads.
I shake my head, reeling from the information. “I’m not angry, baby. I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.”
“I’ll tell you everything if you want to know. But be prepared, it’s a long story. An ugly one at that.”
“I have all night. I’m not going anywhere.”
Taking a breath, she sinks back into the couch with her body turned toward me. “His name is Daniel Wheeler,” she starts quietly. “I met him the first week of my senior year in high school. He had just transferred from San Francisco and became the kid everyone ridiculed. I stepped in one day to help him when he was being bullied by a few of the football guys, and it turned out to be the biggest mistake I would ever make.”
By the fear in her words, I realize this is going to be worse than any scenario I’ve conjured up until this point.
“It started with anonymous love poems being left in my locker then escalated to flowers and gifts. I knew it was Daniel, and I felt bad that I didn’t return his feelings, especially when I knew he was having a hard time fitting in. So, at first I ignored them, because I didn’t want to embarrass him or make him feel bad. But it only got worse and the gifts became more elaborate, so I had no choice but to confront him. I was as kind as I could be about it and told him that we could be friends but that was it. His reaction was…odd, to say the least. He never said a word the entire time. Never denied or confirmed it was him. He just stared at me with this distant look in his eyes.”
She pauses, lost in the memory.
“Everything stopped, even his smiles and waves, so I thought that was the end of it. But then he began showing up wherever I went. Whether it was the grocery store with my mom or the movies with my friends, he was always there—watching me. He never approached me or said anything, but I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. There were even times I could have sworn I felt him watching me, but I couldn’t see him. I thought I was going crazy.”
Her gaze falls to her lap with a long exhale.
“One night he showed up at the mall while I was shopping with friends, and I decided it was time to confront him once more. I told him he was making me uncomfortable and he needed to stop following me. Again, he never said anything, but the distant look in his eyes turned into something more—something indescribable. It terrified me. Then…later that evening when I arrived home,” she continues quietly, “I had taken a shower and walked into my room in a towel. As I was changing, I heard a noise from my window. It was him…watching me.”
I tense, anger fueling inside of me like a desert storm.
“I became frozen to my spot, completely imprisoned by fear. All I could do was scream. My father came barreling in, but by the time he opened my window, Daniel was already running down the street. That night, I told my parents everything and my dad called the police. After taking my statement they went onto the roof to see if they could find any evidence.” She swallows thickly, disgust twisting her perfect face into deep pain. “There were traces of semen, some that had been there for quite a while. He had been watching me for months.”
Even though I had guessed as much, fury still ignites my blood like an inferno. Her tears fall harder this time, and I get the urge to comfort her, to erase her pain. Instead, I give her space and time to finish because I have a feeling it’s far from over.
“When the police went and questioned him, he told them that we were in love. Said that we had been dating since the first week of school. He even showed them a photo album he had of us. There were pictures taken of me when I was unaware; eating in the cafeteria, shopping, dancing…then he had cut out ones of himself and molded them together to make us look like a couple.”
“Jesus,” I breathe out, trying to wrap my head around this crazy fucker.
Her eyes meet mine, fear pinching her expression. “The most terrifying part is he believed it. He really thought we were dating. He was completely delusional. My father put a restraining order on him and the police warned him to stay away from me or he would go to prison. He wasn’t even allowed to attend school anymore. Not like it mattered though, the damage had been done. My entire senior year was ruined. I was scared to walk anywhere alone, too scared to even dress in the privacy of my own room. I went to school, then dance, and came home.”
Unrelenting fury pumps through me as I think about all she lost because of the sick fucker.
“The day came when he broke that restraining order, just like I knew he would. My sister caught him outside of our house, hiding in the bushes. But instead of going to prison, he was sent to a psychiatric hospital. I was told it would be better for him and he would be there for at least three years.” She shrugs. “I didn’t care where he went. I just wanted him gone. After he was sent away, I finished the last few months of school then went to Washington University in St. Louis on a dance scholarship and began to rebuild my life.”
“A dance scholarship, now why am I not surprised,” I say, trying to point out something positive in this fucked-up situation.
She flashes me the smile I had hoped for. “It was my dream to dance forever,” she says softly. “It’s all I ever wanted to do. It took a while for the fear to subside, but I managed to find a peace that I had lost the day I met Daniel. I was happy—happier than I had been in a long time. I even met someone—the campus heartthrob,” she adds.
I try not to let that bit of information bother me, but I hate knowing some bastard was lucky enough to have her.
“Then it was all stolen from me once again.”
Dread settles in my gut as her hand moves to her scarf, fingers beginning to tremble. I remain still, knowing I’m about to hear the worst of it.
“I came home from rehearsal one night to find him in bed with my roommate, the girl I thought was my best friend.”
I stiffen in surprise, not expecting that.
Who the hell would be dumb enough to cheat on her?
“I didn’t get a chance to digest the betrayal though because they were lying in a pool of their own blood—dead,” she whispers.
What—the—fuck.
“Daniel was there, hiding in the shadows. Turns out he was released early and no one thought to inform me, as they promised,” she grinds out, her voice thick with anger, but it quickly turns to turmoil the moment she relays the rest of the events. Rage claws its way through me when I hear how scared and helpless she was, the way she fought to escape. However, that emotion transforms into something so much more painful when I hear about the blade slashing her throat.
“I was so sure he stole my last breath,” she whispers, her words filled with despair. “But I woke up days later only to find out they never caught him. After what he did, knowing how much more he’s capable of, I had to run. Had to leave everything I loved behind, including who I was.” She looks at me, misery dark in her eyes as tears of sorrow stain her cheeks. “I miss it all. I miss my life, dancing, but more than anything, I miss my family. Some days so much that I think it will be the loneliness that kills me in the end.”
The sob of agony that
explodes from her guts me from the inside out. I pull her trembling body into my arms. “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay,” I rasp, feeling like someone poured fucking acid down my throat.
“I’m so tired,” she cries. “Tired of being afraid all the time. Of never knowing when he’ll finish what he started.”
“No. Look at me.” Leaning back, I cradle her face between my hands. “No more running. You need to let me help you.”
“I’m not sure you can. The cops can’t even find him.”
“I can and I will,” I say, resolution burning in my veins. “I swear I won’t let anything happen to you. But you need to let me help you, Sophie,” I say, the name feeling right as it rolls off my tongue.
She gasps, her expression softening. “Say it again.”
I scowl, unsure of what she wants to hear.
“Say my name,” she elaborates.
My forehead falls to hers, the smooth sound of her voice tugging at the hollow part in my chest, the part that only she can command. “Sophie.” Her name whispers past my lips, brushing her wet cheek as I bring my mouth to her ear. “Sophie Parish.”
Her arms hook around my neck as she crawls onto my lap, knees on either side of my hips. I sink into the couch cushions, absorbing the warmth of her body as she trembles against me. Nothing I say can take this away. What she’s lived with, what she’s been through… If I could take this pain as my own and carry it for her, I would.
It’s minutes later before I speak again. “Let me talk to Nick. He’s with the FBI. He will have resources that others don’t.”
She pulls back to look at me, her gaze timid. “I’m not sure I’m ready for others to know yet.”
“Nobody else has to know right now but him. He won’t even tell my sister. Just let me see what he can find on this asshole, then we’ll go from there.” I reach out, swiping the remainder of her tears. “Let me help you, Sophie. You can’t do this by yourself anymore.”
“I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you because of me.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me, baby. Believe me, I’ve fought monsters more threatening than this fucking whack job. I just need you to trust me.”
“I do,” she whispers. “More than anyone else in the world, that’s why I told you.”
“Good. So we agree, no more running?”
She hesitates for only a moment. “No more running.”
Victory fills me, knowing that was a battle in itself. My hand moves to her shoulder, eyes falling to her scarf. “Do you trust me enough to show me what’s under here?”
Her face turns ashen, body trembling once more. “You’ll never look at me the same way again.”
Those bleeding words fuel the storm of emotions already tearing inside of me. “There’s nothing under there that could change the way I look at you.” It’s clear by her solemn expression she doesn’t believe me. “We all have scars, Sophie, in one form or another.” Her gaze snaps to mine as I bring my hand to her cheek. “I just want to know all of you.”
She relents with a shaky sigh, giving me a single nod of permission.
The moment my hand moves to the pink scarf, her eyes fall shut, chin quivering. I gently brush a kiss across her lips, wanting to ease her fear. Her hands move to my side, twisting the fabric of my shirt, silently begging me to not reveal what scares her the most.
“Don’t be scared, baby. I got you.”
The fabric whispers across her skin as I pull the material gently from her neck, revealing the mangled skin beneath. My chest tightens; air passing back and forth as it becomes trapped in my lungs. The angry red scars run crisscross around her throat, proving the evil blade left no inch of flesh untouched. Vengeance burns in my blood, thrumming viciously through my veins, but it becomes overshadowed when a strangled noise penetrates the air. I look up to see Sophie’s eyes still shut, face pinched tight as if this physically pains her.
Instinct takes over and my lips move to her wounded flesh. The contact is powerful. Like a bolt of lightning to my chest.
Air pushes past her throat on a sharp breath when I explore more; desperate to know every scar she bears. Fisting my shirt further, she finally submits to my touch.
“Sophie Parish,” I murmur, dragging my lips across her mutilated skin. “Not a victim but a survivor.”
A sob tumbles past her lips. “How can you say that?”
I grasp her face between my hands, forcing her eyes to mine. “Because that’s who you are. He did not win and he’s not fucking going to. You survived and you’re going to continue to survive.”
“I don’t think I can beat him,” she cries, sounding both exhausted and defeated.
“You won’t need to because I will.”
Her arms go around my neck, face dropping on my shoulder as she continues to cry. With a heavy breath, I stand and carry her down the hall, guessing that’s where her room is. It’s confirmed when I pass the bathroom, reaching the second door on the right.
Lying us down on the bed, I keep her close. She curls into me, her arm draping over my waist and tears soaking my shirt. I don’t say or do anything but hold her, barely able to keep my rage concealed. Once she falls asleep, I reach for my cell in my pocket and shoot a text to Nick.
Me: I need a favor.
Nick: No, I will not stop touching your sister.
I grunt.
Me: It’s a little late for that, asshole, since you knocked her up.
Nick: True. So, what do you want then?
Me: I need you to find out everything you can on a Daniel Wheeler, including where he was last seen.
It’s a few minutes before I hear anything back.
Nick: Done. I’ll let you know when I have something.
Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I look down at Sophie, the devastation on her resting face ripping me open once more. Brushing a thick strand of hair off her cheek that’s soaked with the remainder of her tears, I stare down at the scarred flesh with only one thought in mind.
Vengeance.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sophie
Wrapped in the most incredible warmth, I bathe in the strength of his arms, feeling safe and protected. I slowly open my gritty, swollen eyes to see Kolan looking down at me, his usual hard expression softer and hair mussed from sleep. The sight of him this early in the morning has my heart skipping a beat.
“You stayed,” I murmur, my throat still raw and tender from last night’s emotional turmoil.
“Did you think I would leave?”
“No, I guess not.” I should have known better, especially after how kind he was to me when I not only revealed my secret but also bared my scars. Something I still can’t believe I did. The haunting thought reminds me that they’re exposed now.
I lift my hand to drape my hair across my neck but Kolan snags my wrist, stopping me before I can shield them. “I get that you don’t want the world to see this but when it’s just you and me, Sophie, there will be no scarf. No more hiding.”
“I hate for anyone to see it, but especially you,” I admit on a whisper. “It’s disgusting.”
His hand moves to my neck, the rough pad of his thumb tracing the marred flesh as he stares down at me. Every instinct in my body screams to recoil at his touch but my heart craves it. “When I see this, I feel a lot of things but disgust isn’t one of them.”
“What do you feel?” I ask hesitantly.
“I won’t lie, I feel pretty fucking angry,” he says, every word laced with venom. “But mostly…I feel admiration.”
“No.” My voice is a choked whisper.
“Yes.”
I shake my head, insecurities worming their way into my mind. A breath traps in my chest when he shifts the top half of his hard body over mine. There’s no mistaking the feel of his erection against my hip when he leans down, pressing his warm lips to my shoulder before moving to the one place I can’t bear to look at.
“This,” he murmurs. “Does not show weakn
ess. It shows strength. And that, baby, is fucking admirable.”
Lifting his head, he pins me with those dark brown eyes, the deep chocolate color rich with the truth of his words.
“Where on earth did you come from?” I ask.
“I’ve been wondering the same thing about you.”
His reply has my heart leaping in my chest and a smile dancing across my lips. “If I had brushed my teeth by now and didn’t just wake up, I would kiss you, Kolan Slade.”
“Fuck brushing your teeth, I just want to taste you.” He swoops in, capturing my mouth in a ruthless kiss, and just like last time, the contact is powerful and life changing.
With a blissful sigh, I wrap my arms around his neck, losing myself in the moment. Not caring in the least about whether my breath is fresh or not, because his incredible flavor masks all else.
His low groan vibrates against my lips, reverberating through every cell in my body. “I’ve been dying to taste you again.”
“Me too, it’s all I’ve thought about,” I admit, breathing into the kiss.
“Yeah?” Pulling my arms apart, he pins them over my head and moves over top of me, his erection now settled at the apex of my thighs. “And what else have you thought about since then, Sophie?”
God, I love hearing my name fall from his lips.
“Your touch and how good you made me feel,” I tell him fervently, as he continues to rob me of oxygen.
“That’s all I’ve been thinking about too, baby, and I’ve been fucking dying to do it again.” His mouth tears from mine on a journey south, passing along my wrecked skin before trailing over the front of my tank top. The feeling of his hot breath through the thin fabric has my nipples rising for his attention.
My gasp pierces the air when he takes a sharp nip, the sting shooting all the way to my core. “Kolan,” I moan, arching as much as my pinned arms will allow. “Let go so I can touch you, too.”
“No, baby. Just you. Always, just you.”
Before I have a chance to argue, he lifts my shirt, latching his hot mouth around my nipple, banishing every thought and feeling. Nothing but pure unyielding pleasure sweeps through me as he sucks each bud until I’m writhing beneath him.
