The complete scars series: Books one-four

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The complete scars series: Books one-four Page 45

by Tonks, Rachael


  “She tried to run away a number of times, only we kept bringing her back, making her pay her way for the roof I was providing over her head. Hmmm,” he hums as if remembering something. “She was good, Son. I loved the way she always struggled. It really fucking turned me on,” he says with an air of accomplishment. “You should try it sometimes. The thrill is totally worth it.”

  “What happened to her?” I press him, trying to get the answers I’d been looking for all my life.

  “Overdose. Fucking drugged-up cunt,” he replies. “Well rid,” he adds. Never knowing my mother has given me no expectations or feelings toward her. What little I know is all I know about her, and although I hate how he’s speaking, it makes me feel nothing. Because I never knew her to feel anything, anyway.

  “Have we finished?” I ask, dropping back into my seat, picking up my pencil and continuing to work on the design for the guy I have scheduled for this afternoon. I reach my free hand up to my cheek, wincing when I make contact with the cut on my skin.

  “Tomorrow,” he blurts out. “Tomorrow, we party. I want to see the real Nate Savage in action. Whores will be wall to wall in this place. There’s to be no talk of tattoos or fucking sketches. You hear me?”

  “Uh-huh,” I answer loosely, pushing back in my chair and swinging it around until I’m facing him. I twirl the pencil in my fingers, rocking back and forth on the chair.

  “It’s going to be a complete pussy-fest. I want to see you taking advantage.” He points the knife at me before turning on his heel and heading out of the garage. A heavy sigh escapes me as I sink back into the chair. I press my fingers so hard against the pencil that it snaps. With a yell, I launch it against the wall before clenching my shaky hand and hitting my knuckles against the wall, over and over. Staring at the wall, my blood splatters more and more, every time my fist connects with it. The sudden realization I’m trapped in this world I was born into, hits me like a goddamn sledgehammer. I’ll never be free to make my own decisions, to be with a girl the way I truly want to. Being me came with a whole array of fucked-up expectations. I’m not a man if I don’t force a woman into having sex with me. Just a fucking pussy unless I have blood on my hands. I’m sick of my father’s ridiculous rules, yet there’s no escaping him.

  Every time my hand connects with the wall, it’s like the pain I feel is a representation of how I’m feeling inside.

  I’m the president’s only son. The heir to everything that comes with this life. I’m the heir to a life I don’t fucking want anymore. The numbness in my hand tells me I need to stop hitting the wall. Blood drops from my knuckles and I’m panting as I look at the mess I’ve made. What the fuck is wrong with me? I shake my head as I stand, searching for gauze I use, hoping to wrap it around my hand. Fuck, it has to be here somewhere. Kneeling down, I check the cabinet, locating it and wrapping it around my damaged knuckles. Inhaling deeply, I drop to the ground; the sinking feeling in the fucking pit of my stomach is eating away at me. The feeling of sorrow is almost too much to take. Knowing I had to sacrifice the love I had for the only girl I’ve ever had feelings for, just to keep her safe from my own father, weighs heavy. If there was any other way, I’d take it. But there isn’t.

  Her being here would be an open invitation for my father. Carter promised Tara to him, and I have to make sure, that no matter what, the bastard cannot cash in on that promise. I need to call Brax. Let him know.

  Together, we have to keep her safe. I would never be able to live with myself if anything ever happened to her.

  Tara

  I can’t do this, I tell myself as I swipe the lipstick across my full lips, my shoulders slumping at the thought of meeting Justin from Suite 102. Part of my ridiculous mind convinced me it would be a good idea to spread my wings and see other people. Try something, anything, to forget about Nate. But it’s no use. There’s a part of me that belongs with Nate, whether he wants to admit to it or not.

  The phone buzzing against the dressing table catches my attention. I look down at the screen to see a text from Justin.

  Can’t wait to see you.

  Urgh, my heart sinks at the sight of the message. I quickly press reply, wracking my brain to think of a reason why I won’t be able to make it. I type with speed, then delete. Then type out another excuse, only to delete it. Slamming my phone down, I grab the wine glass, throwing back the red liquid until there’s nothing left. I refill quickly from the bottle, glugging down the second glass. I need to do this. I have to be okay with not being okay. The warmth of the alcohol gives me a much-needed buzz. Inhaling a huge breath, I finally pick up my phone, typing out my response.

  Ordering a cab now. Be there real soon.

  Calling the cab, I push on my stilettos, grab my purse, and head down to wait for it to arrive. Shivering, I clutch my purse to my chest, trying to insulate myself from the chill in the air. Lights of an approaching vehicle cause me to shield my eyes, the brightness almost too much. I step forward, expecting it to be the cab driver. Only it isn’t the cab at all.

  The sound of the engines roaring is unmistakable. I clutch my purse, taking a step back from the motorcycles that approach. The rumble of the engines vibrates as they close in on me, stopping just beside me. A plume of smoke surrounds the guys. I slowly lower my purse, ready to pull out my gun if necessary. It’s always in my purse, and I don’t go anywhere without it.

  Squinting, I try to make out the face of the man leading the gang, cigar clenched between his fingers.

  Jeffries.

  President of the Savages.

  “Hey,” I reply sweetly, mindful of the fact that working with the Savages is a big deal for Brax. “Can I help you?”

  “Come closer,” he instructs with a wiggle of his tattoo-covered finger.

  “I’m fine right here, sir.” I decline as politely as possible, but dammit, I’m nervous, especially after what has happened with Nate.

  “Come,” he roars, and it’s no longer an invitation, it’s a demand. Swallowing the lump of nerves that have formed in my throat, I go against my better judgment, taking one step forward. My heart hammers in my chest, but I don’t let him intimidate me.

  “What do you want, Jeffries? I really don’t have time for this, my cab will be here any second.” My tone is laced with annoyance, and I can tell by the expression on his face, he’s less than impressed.

  “What makes you think you can decline an order from me, huh?”

  “I don’t answer to a Savage,” I say with a scoff.

  “Is that right?” he muses, flexing his arm out, catching my wrist and pulling me closer. “Funny, you’ve been fucking one for months.”

  “What I do and who I do it with is none of your goddamn business,” I snap. Pushing my purse under the crook of my arm, I reach in for my gun with my free hand. Drawing it out, I press it to his forehead, ready to pull the trigger. “Don’t make me do something we’ll both live to regret.”

  The sound of guns engaging reverberates through the evening air. My eyes dart to the other guys on motorcycles, each one pointing a gun directly at me.

  Shit.

  “My, my, my,” he laughs, his chest rumbling as he does. “Quite the challenge, my pretty Tara. I don’t remember you being so uncooperative when we met before.”

  “You were just another cog in the wheel. I was there to keep you sweet. Surely, by now, you know how business works, Jeffries.” I push my hand forward, applying a little more pressure onto his forehead, but he never even flinches. He tightens the grip around my wrist, giving it a little tug.

  Lights catch my attention, and the second my eyes leave Jeffries, he reaches up, knocking the gun from my hand. The driver parks behind Jeffries’ band of Savages, and I know I’m trapped. He has both of my wrists and now I have no gun.

  “Are you really going to sacrifice what you have with Brax? I know how hard he’s worked with you guys, and the way I see it, you’re in the best position you’ve been in a long while. All thanks to him.”

/>   “This is nothing to do with Brax. This is everything to do with you, sweet Tara.”

  “Are you really that stupid?” I retort, watching as his face hardens and his glare on me intensifies. “We’re as good as family…”

  “Are you fucking him?” he asks in a low, serious tone.

  “What? No!”

  “Then I don’t get it.” He pulls my right hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. Internally, I recoil at the feel of his mouth against my skin.

  “There’s nothing for you to get.” I tug on my hands, this time with all the strength I have. Somehow, I manage to snap my hands away, drop to my knees and grab my gun. Holding out my shaking hand, I point the gun at him, slowly stepping back.

  “Stay away from me,” I growl out. “You’ll fuck up everything you and Brax have worked so hard to achieve. Is it really worth it?” I ask, with a cock of my head.

  “I’ll have to let you know. Goodnight, Tara,” he says with a smug expression as he grabs the handlebars of the bike, twisting it, causing the engine to roar back to life. Without a second glance, I race over to the car, jerking open the door and dropping into the back seat.

  “You okay there?” the driver asks, his face coming into focus between the seats.

  “Sure,” I reply, my voice strained but a smile wide on my face. “Suite 102, please,” I instruct, reaching for my seatbelt and buckling up. My heart is still pounding, but what’s worse are the questions racing through my mind. Like, seriously, what the hell just happened? I furrow my brow, drop the gun into my purse, then grab my phone and dial Izzy’s number.

  “Hey, you,” she replies sweetly.

  “Izzy,” I say a little breathlessly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  The panic in her voice is clear, and I’m quick to reply. “Uh, well, guess who just stopped by?”

  “Nate,” she rushes out. Just hearing his name causes an ache deep in my gut.

  “No,” I say with sadness in my voice. “Not Nate.”

  “Well, who?”

  “Jeffries was here, and listen,” I say, glancing over my shoulder and through the rear windshield. “It was weird.”

  “Weird how?”

  “Weird as in he had hold of me.” A huge breath escapes me before I continue. “I pulled my gun on him.” My voice is barely audible, and the driver adjusting the rearview mirror catches my attention.

  “Wait… what? I’m totally confused.”

  “Imagine how I feel,” I retort, laughing nervously.

  “You’re okay though, right? He didn’t touch you or hurt you in any way?”

  “No, no, absolutely not.”

  “Fuck, Tara. What’s going on with them? The goddamn Savages.”

  “Hey, Izzy. Please don’t say anything to Brax.”

  “Uh-uh, Tara. Don’t pull that shit on me. Brax needs to know what has happened. The Savages need to be kept in check, and he’s the boss. He has to know.”

  “Shit,” I breathe down the receiver. “Okay, well let me be the one to speak to him. The last thing I want is to ruin the business relationship we have with them. I feel like everything just got on track, and business is good.”

  “So good,” she replies quickly.

  “Right. And, see, I don’t want to be the one to cause a rift between them.”

  “Tara,” she says with a tone of warning, catching me a little off guard. “Jeffries came to your place. He grabbed hold of you. This is all him, not you. If this shit causes a rift, then that’s his own doing. Brax will take care of this, I know he will. He’ll get Jeffries to back off. I wonder what his problem is?”

  “I have no idea, but it was as creepy as fuck.”

  “Tara,” she sighs. “Where are you now?”

  “In a cab, on my way to meet Justin at Suite 102.”

  “What?” Her voice screeches so loudly it causes me to pull the phone away from my ear. “When did this happen, and why don’t I know about it?”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “I’ve seen Justin. Believe me, it’s a big deal.”

  “It’s just drinks,” I laugh.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this? You know, drinks with guys and all.”

  “Correction, guy, not guys. And honestly, I’m not really that into him. I just needed someone to pass the time.”

  “Hmm…” she hums. “Do you think it’s wise to get involved with someone you have to work with?”

  “What? Like you and Brax?” I tease.

  “That’s different,” she says seriously. “Tara,” she pauses for a few seconds, “babe, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get into something with someone just because you’re lonely. Despite the front you keep trying to put on, you’re not fooling me. I know you’re hurting.”

  “I’m just being normal. Meeting guys, having fun. Don’t read too much into this. Listen, I gotta go. The car just pulled up outside.”

  “Call me. Let me know you got home okay.”

  “Will do.”

  Ending the call, I thank the driver and hand him a twenty before swinging open the door and stepping out. Looking up at the classy bar, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride in the work I do for Brax. Straightening myself and pushing out the thoughts from earlier, I barrel toward the entrance, the doorman smiling at me as I walk through.

  “Ma’am,” he says with a dip of his head. Stopping for a second, I look up to admire the handsome doorman. He’s huge in stature, and I know he’s one of Brax’s men.

  “You’re a Harris employee, right?” I say, resting my hand on his muscular forearm.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a little Southern twang.

  “Hot,” I say with a wink before I continue inside. I make the most of the hips that my mother gave me, swaying as I walk inside. A fleeting glance backward confirms what I already knew. He’s checking me out, and by the look on his face, the lacy black number is ticking all of the boxes.

  Walking over to the bustling bar, I rest my purse on the counter. Jumping onto the barstool, I cross my legs as my eyes roam the bar looking for Justin.

  I quickly order a couple of shots, downing them effortlessly.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” his voice bellows and I jump out of my skin. Clutching my hand to my chest, I turn to see the hardened face of Brax.

  “Shit, jerkoff. You nearly gave me a damn heart attack.”

  Narrowing his eyes, he leans against the bar. “Answer the fucking question, Tara.”

  “Jesus, Brax. Why so angry?”

  “Well?” he snarls, causing me to jerk again.

  “I’m on a date if you must know. A really hot date.”

  Grabbing my upper arm, he drags me down from the stool. Holding onto the side of the bar, I try to steady myself. “You have to go. Now.”

  “Get the fuck off me,” I yell, snapping my arm from his hold. “What the hell has gotten into you?” I gasp, my body quivering with anger.

  “Hey, man. I’ll leave, it’s no big deal,” his familiar voice calls from over his shoulder. I look at him, my heart's pace instantly increasing. Shit. He looks so good. Only his eyes are glued to the floor, his hands in his pockets as he stands there awkwardly.

  “Listen, we’re all grown-ups. We can be in the same bar together. It’s not an issue for me.” Nate doesn’t acknowledge me. His jaw is tense, and he continues to stare at the ground.

  “It’s not a good idea. You should go home,” Brax repeats.

  “No,” I decline with a shake of my head. “I came for a drink, and a drink is what I shall have.”

  “Tara.” The voice appears, as does a gentle hand on my lower back. Turning, I smile genuinely, reaching onto my tiptoes, kissing Justin on the cheek.

  “Hey,” I say sweetly. “Shall we get a drink?”

  “I’d love that.”

  “Him?” Brax blurts out. “My fucking employee.” He’s pissed, and I have no idea why.

  “Not now,” I whisper-shout. “You need t
o speak to me, then do it at the office tomorrow. I’m not doing this here.”

  His nostrils flare, his eyes hard on me, but he doesn’t intimidate me. I turn my back to him, smiling widely at Justin as I hook my arm through his, leading us away from Brax and Nate.

  “You look stunning tonight.” He breaks the silence between us.

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

  Walking over to a booth, I slide in the seat, followed by Justin who sits opposite me. “I hope this won’t be a problem,” he grimaces, his eyes flickering toward Brax who is still staring at us.

  “Of course not,” I reply with a coy smile, taking his hand in mine. “Just ignore those guys,” I dismiss with a wave of my hand.

  “A little hard when boss man’s eyes haven’t left us.”

  Sighing a little, my shoulders slump and I can’t help but shake my head. “He’s just a little, well, let’s say overprotective. But if this is too much for you, I’d totally understand.”

  “No, of course not,” he replies, his sparkling green eyes cutting into mine. “I’m just thrilled you agreed to meet with me. I guess I thought you were way out of my league.”

  Shaking my head, I tap his arm lightly. “Don’t be silly,” I manage to choke out. Nothing about being here feels right. Especially knowing we have an audience, where one of the guys watching is really the one I want to be with. “We should get some drinks,” I say, changing the subject and swinging my legs out of the booth.

  “Wait,” He laughs a little, his hand pressing gently against the top of my arm. “I already ordered. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Oh,” I say, sliding back into my previous position. “Of course not.”

  “I’ve had Robbie, the cocktail guy, make us something special.”

  “Oh, really?” I smile, clapping my hands together lightly. “Well, I do love cocktails.”

 

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