The complete scars series: Books one-four

by Tonks, Rachael

  “Clearly not.” She throws her arm out to the side pointing to the room where Tara is located. “Did you see the state of her face?”

  “You think that makes me feel good?” I whisper-shout, the words hissing through my teeth. “It fucking kills me to see her like that and if I could change what happened, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

  “Why don’t you do us all a favor and just stay away from her?”

  Turning on my heel, I head for the door, grabbing the handle and yanking it open. “Never gonna happen. So you’ll just have to get used to the fact that I’m going to be a permanent fixture in your daughter’s life.” Glancing at her, I offer her a shit-eating grin. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  Tara

  After showering and scrubbing the layer of tainted flesh, I slump on my bed, clutching the corner of the bed sheet, sobbing silently. Sunlight streams into the bedroom. Facing the window, I’d watched the day grow brighter, the hours ticking by while I tried to think of something other than what had happened. But I couldn’t. Sleep isn’t my friend and the dominating thoughts won’t allow me to settle. I feel so fragile, yet thankful that I managed to escape the foul man that has done this. Reduced me into nothing more than a wailing, lifeless human being. My feelings flit between hurt and anger. Fury rages through my every fiber, knowing what he did to me. How could he, and what the fuck gave him the right to touch me? My memory is clearing as my body and mind try to recover from the ordeal. Right now, I don’t remember exactly what he did, which is probably a blessing. But what I do remember is the confrontation I had with him outside of the clubhouse. I remember being held back, helpless and unable to stop him. But he took the easy way out. Drugging me so I could no longer defend myself. He knew full well I wasn’t going to be a willing victim, so forced himself upon me with the use of drugs. I wasn’t his to take, but he took me anyway.

  Exhausted, I’m more tired than I’ve ever been. Sapped of any energy, even moving takes more than I have right now. Every muscle aches and I wonder, albeit irrationally, if I’ll ever be able to move again. My head pounds so hard and despite my best attempts, the tightness in my chest and stomach just won’t ease up.

  What scares me most now, is what happens next. How do I begin to heal, and how the hell do I make sure that he doesn’t come for me again? The panic causes pain to intensify near my temples, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. What if I can’t keep him away? What if he finds out I’m here and comes for me? How do I explain this mess to Brax and Izzy? I feel humiliated, but also stupid. Like this was my own fault. Looking for Nate was like walking into a lion’s den. And boy, was I bitten. But, even though I want to hide away, lie here forever, blocking out the world and all thoughts of what happened, I know that I can’t. I have to face the world. I have to be me again, I’m just not sure how to get there. Broadcasting this to the world, telling Brax and Izzy, isn’t going to help. All it would do is re-open the wound, rehashing it and making it feel worse. Sympathetic looks and “I told you sos” aren’t going to help me get over this. Izzy knows all too well what I’ve been through, and she doesn’t need to relive that shit through me. Cradling myself, I wonder how long Mom will let me stay? I need to be here for a few more days at least, until all the scars have healed and the bruises have faded. It’s weird being here, being back home, but oddly comforting. Despite the world I was born into, my mother always kept me safe. I knew what happened, I heard the stories, but we were always so well protected. My mother and I hid behind a plexiglass wall, seeing what happened but never being affected by it. Until that one day. The one day my mother finally gave in and let me spend time with Carter at his infamous parties. Because he promised to protect me. Only the protectiveness he offered was only a cover. A cover story and a way to sell me down the river. Even now, after his death, he’s still hurting me.

  A knock on the door startles me, and I turn my head, waiting for my mother to enter. Slowly, the door creaks open and my mother peers around, smiling at me, holding a tray of food in her hand.

  “Tara, it’s midday. You haven’t eaten and I really think you should, honey.”

  “No,” I reply with haste. “I can’t stomach anything, Mom.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll just go ahead and leave it here for you, should you change your mind.”

  “Thank you,” I croak, lifting my hand and clearing the bubble of tears from my eyes. Shooting me a sad smile, she drops herself down beside me on the bed. Silently, she brushes her hand across my hair, stroking over and over. It isn’t an awkward silence, but one that provides me with comfort. I don’t say anything, I just take in the warmth and affection of her touch.

  After a few minutes, Mom clears her throat, breaking the silence. “You know you can stay here for as long as you need, right?” Her voice is a whisper, and I respond with a delicate nod.

  “Just a few days,” I reply. “Until I’m healed.”

  “Baby, I know you don’t want to do this, but you should report this to the police. Go to the hospital, get yourself checked out.”

  I wince at the thought. Not only had I been humiliated, but I was suddenly going to be subjected to a string of questions and further violations.

  “No,” I decline, unable to force out any more.

  “I can’t make you do anything but think about it. Knowing the scumbag that did this will get what’s coming to him may offer you some comfort.”

  “He’ll get what he deserves, Mom. That much I’m certain of. I don’t know how or when. But he will.”

  “Do you know the man who did this, Tara?”

  “Kind of,” I say vaguely. Mom hates the MC. Telling her it was Jeffries will only fuel the fire and put an even bigger wedge between our families. “But I’m not going to say, Mom. Please don’t push me on this.”

  “Of course,” she says, patting my leg. “But it’s hard seeing you like this. You’re my little girl, no matter how grown up you think you are. Knowing someone did this to you cuts me up inside. I want to do something. I want to help you, Tara.”

  “Being here, letting me stay and giving me the time and space to heal is all I need right now. The rest will work itself out.”

  Nate

  Cutting the engine, I remove my helmet, hanging it on the handlebars. I let out a huge breath, trying to focus on what I have to do. To bring my father down. But I have to do it the right way. I need more of the guys on my side.

  But all I can think of is Tara. My stomach knots at the memory of the bruises on her face. Bruises caused by me, by the fact that I turned her away when she needed me the most. Shaking my head, I have to put all emotion aside today. Today, I have to chip away at the support my father has.

  Starting with Silver.

  The pocket of my jeans buzzes, so I reach in, pulling out my cell. Swallowing hard, I see the name on the screen.

  Brax.

  “Hey, man,” I say, supporting the phone between my ear and shoulder while pulling out my packet of smokes.

  “Well?” he blurts down the receiver. “What the fuck is she doing at her mom’s? Why hasn’t she come here?”

  “She’s a mess, Brax. I’m not entirely sure she’s telling me the whole truth.” I tip the packet until my smokes appear. Lifting it to my mouth I grip one with my teeth. Pushing the packet back in my pocket, I retrieve my lighter, flicking it and holding it to the tip. Smoke plumes around me and I try to work out how the fuck I’m going to explain this shit to him. “She had bruises on her face.”

  “What?” he roars. “Is she okay? What the hell happened to her?”

  “She said she was mugged. Too drunk to remember what happened.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “I don’t know what to believe,” I reply honestly. Because right now, my head is so fucked up. Guilt does that to you.

  “I’m bringing her home.”

  “No,” I blurt out. “She is adamant that she wants to spend time with her mom. Build some bridges. You turning up there will only make thi
ngs worse for her. Her mom hates us, Brax. I saw that hatred in her eyes. The way she looked at me.”

  “She just has to get over the fact that no one is funding her lifestyle anymore. Carter threw his money at her to keep her quiet, keep her on his side. She isn’t upset that Carter is gone, she’s upset the money has.”

  “Makes sense.” I place the smoke to my lips, drawing on it, the hit of nicotine invades my brain.

  “So what you’re suggesting is that we do nothing. Just leave her with her mom and hope for the best,” Brax says, his tone oozing sarcasm.

  “Fuck, man. Give me a goddamn break. I’m trying here. I’m trying to do the right thing by everyone.”

  “And Tara?” he asks.

  “You know how I feel about her. Everything I do, EVERYTHING, it’s for her. All of it. Otherwise I would go back to being just another fucking crew member accepting orders from my father. So don’t ever suggest that what I’m doing isn’t in her best interests. Because it is.”

  “Something needs to be done, Nate. Your father is still a real threat to Tara. He needs to be taken care of.”

  “I plan on it.”

  “Nate, man,” a voice yells, interrupting me. I spin to see Jarvis jogging over.

  “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll be in touch,” I whisper, ending the call and pushing my cell back into my pocket.

  “What’s up, brother?”

  “Prez is calling church.”

  “Good,” I reply.

  “Did you find the girl?” he asks, his voice hushed and his eyes fixed on me as he waits for me to answer.

  I nod subtly. “It’s all good, man. And Emily?”

  “Still in your room. Davo stayed with her the whole time.”

  “I’ll go check on her,” I say, flicking the cigarette to the ground, stamping on it with the tip of my boot.

  Walking in line with me, Jarvis turns and asks, “How is it going down today at church? You know, the whole Silver shit that went down last night?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m bringing it to the table and demanding we take a vote on it. That crazy bastard should lose his badge as VP. I can’t do it without you guys.” I give him a sideways glance and he nods enthusiastically.

  “You have more support than you know,” he says with a slap of his hand against my shoulder. “The guys have watched you grow from the shell of a man you were just a year ago, to now. You make the right fucking decisions, man. You do best by your brothers and this club. No doubt. But there is only one thing standing in your way.” He offers me an awkward sideways smile, exposing his chipped teeth and the scar that runs down his cheek. He leans in, his breath on my ear. “Your father.”

  “But why now? Huh? Why suddenly do you and the others want change?” I stop walking for a second, turning to face him.

  “Because we didn’t have anyone to believe in before. No one else here has the desire to change this club for the better. But you… you are the future here, Nate. It’s your destiny. To take the gavel and succeed your father.”

  Letting my eyes drift, I stare into space, contemplating his words. I can do this with the support of my brothers.

  “Listen, man,” he continues. “The only worthwhile deals we do now are dealt with by you. We have the meet this afternoon with the Deathseekers. I think it’s a bad idea. A really bad idea,” he says inhaling sharply.

  “He mentioned it last night, but I’m not sure how I feel. I don’t think it’s the smartest fucking move considering our history with the Deathseekers.”

  “Shit,” he exclaims. “You didn’t know anything about this?”

  “Nah, man,” I reply, scuffing my boot against the ground beneath my feet.

  “There must be a reason, man. A reason why he didn’t involve you?”

  “He likes to keep me on the outside.”

  “Maybe he sees you as a threat?”

  I shrug my shoulders, turning to make my way inside. “We better go,” I say with a jab of my thumb.

  “Sure, man,” he agrees, following me through the door.

  “I’ll be down as soon as I’ve checked in with Emily.”

  Patting me lightly on the back, I watch him walk down the hall while I make my way up the stairs, skipping steps in an attempt to hurry. Pulling out my key, I push it in the lock, opening the door. My eyes land on Emily, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide.

  “Hey,” she says, visibly relaxing, her hand flat against her chest. Sliding from the bed, she steps toward me, arms folded over her chest.

  “Hey,” I reply to her welcome, closing the door behind me.

  “You found her?” she asks tentatively, her forefinger resting against her lip.

  “Yup. Beat the fuck up. Apparently, she was mugged after leaving here.”

  “Jesus,” she gasps. “I’m sorry. I kinda feel responsible.”

  I shake my head. “This is on me. I should’ve made sure she got home okay.”

  “You weren’t to know.” She offers me a small smile.

  “Listen,” I say changing the subject. “I gotta go to church. Go eat. The guys will be busy long enough for you to get in and out without anyone causing you any bother.”

  Pressing her lips firming together, she lets her eyes drop to the floor. “I know. I guess Silver kinda shook me a little yesterday. Give me a few days and I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

  “I’m taking it to the table. Motherfucker won’t get away with toying with you.” I extend my hand, touching her gently on the arm. “On that you have my word.”

  “I just gotta toughen up,” she says followed by a nervous laugh, redirecting her line of sight to the floor.

  “Well, yeah.” I nod in agreement. “Honey, it’s tough here. You gotta be able to roll with the punches and keep your mouth shut and your head on straight.”

  “Straight head. Got it.” Her voice wavers a little and I realize this isn’t going to be easy for her.

  “I gotta go,” I rush out, stepping closer and kissing her on the top of her head.

  Walking down the stairs, I make my way into the main clubhouse room. In the far- right corner is the door to church. The door is always locked unless we have a meeting. Only patched-in members are allowed in church. No women are allowed to step through the door. We take going to church seriously.

  I slowly open the large dark wooden door, heads turning and eyes on me as soon as I’m visible.

  “Hey, man,” Zane says with a tip of his chin. The guys around the table chat amongst themselves, each one acknowledging me with either a smile or a small movement of their heads.

  “Hey,” I reply, walking around the central table and sliding down into the chair beside Zane. His hand pats my back heavily while my eyes land on the cocksucker I intend to bring down.

  “Silver,” I say as I stare at him, my brows drawn together and my nostrils flaring. I want to jump over the table and slice this fucker’s throat. He ain’t no brother of mine.

  A small smirk creeps across his face. “Nate,” he says, holding my stare.

  “So, where is he?” I ask, holding my hands up as I glance around the room.

  “He’ll be here,” Silver snaps.

  “How’s the girl?” Jarvis asks, peering around Zane, leaning into me.

  “Good. No thanks to him.” I point my finger at the old man Silver who still wears a look of amusement.

  “No harm done,” he throws out loosely.

  Feeling anger boil inside me I clench my fist, banging it against the table. “No harm done?” I repeat. “I don’t know what sick fucking games you are playing…” I yell, lurching from my seat and leaning over the table. “But your destruction isn’t any good for this fucking club.”

  “And what?” he growls, standing up, reaching his arm forward and grabbing the front of my cut. “What you gonna do, little boy?” His lip curls in disgust. Placing my hand over his, I grit my teeth. “Get your fucking hands off me,” I snarl.

  The room echoes with voices as the guys shout, trying to cal
m the situation.

  “Let go of him,” Davo coaxes, pulling on Silver’s arm. Loosening the grip he has, I pull, freeing myself from his hands.

  “Well if it isn’t Nate’s number one cocksucker. That's twice now, dickless. Twice you’ve jumped to his defense.”

  “Yeah,” he scoffs. “Twice you were out of order, man.”

  “And who the fuck are you to tell me I’m out of order? I’m the VP of this goddamn club.”

  The two men stand face-to-face. “And don’t we know it,” Davo growls. “You use and abuse your position. That fucking patch should be given to someone that actually takes the meaning of it seriously.”

  “Who?” he spits back. “You? Pussy-tits over there?” He points to me and I laugh at him, watching as he crumbles.

  “What the hell is happening here?” My father’s voice cuts through the air, sharper than any knife. The raucous noise of the room dies down and everyone looks at my father as he hobbles around the table, heading for the chair positioned at the head.

  “Just a difference of opinion,” Davo replies, brushing Silver on the shoulder. Silver swats his hand away before resuming his position in the seat next to my father.

  “The fuck’s wrong with your leg?” I ask, giving him the once-over.

  “Fell and twisted my knee,” he says casually.

  “You okay to ride today?” Silver asks.

  “Always, brother,” he replies with a smile. Picking up the gavel, he twirls it in his hand as he leans back in the chair.

  “Let’s kick off today with the deal this afternoon.”

  “Did we vote on doing a deal with the Deathseekers? That motherfucker ratted us out,” I say, my eyes focused on my father as I call into question the deal he has made without a vote at this table.

  Resting his head against his propped-up arm, he looks directly at me. “I don’t think the crew knew they had an FBI rat amongst them. I trust Brewer.”