Silent Scars (Surviving #4)

by Ada Frost

  “I will keep you safe, Aloura.”

  “I know.” Her full lip trembled, but she valiantly tried to hide it. I stepped towards her and pulled her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her. Her warm soft body fit perfectly against mine. I closed my eyes and pushed that thought as far away as possible.

  I was slowly losing myself to this woman. And what a terrifying thought that was.

  I stared out of my bedroom window at the night sky. Hercules was being a restless ball of energy. “There‘s no rain tonight, honey,” I said, patting the window seat. He scampered across the floor and jumped up to sit beside me. He licked my hand and tried as he always did to lick my face. But I wouldn’t allow that; the dude licked his balls for Christ sake.

  “Look, no rain.” His too big tongue hung out of his mouth as he panted and pawed at the glass. I glanced at the glowing red number on the clock beside my bed and grumbled. I really needed to get some sleep. It was almost 2am. Normally I would play the piano or read. But I didn’t want to wake Ryan, and after reading with him, I kind of wanted to save my book to share with him.

  “Ugh.” I moaned and placed my head in my hands. I was being totally pathetic. I hated reading aloud. It was one thing in school I detested the most. But today when he asked, something inside me clicked. I knew he wanted a reason to stay away; he wanted me to be the one to enforce a barrier between us. But I couldn’t. I’d have sung the national anthem in exchange for those moments again. I could hardly breathe when I grabbed his hand, and he didn’t push me away. But what really had my pulse on overdrive and my body temperature sky rocketing was the heat in his gaze so there was no disputing that smoulder. The way he stared at my lips like he wanted to devour me. Shivers raced through me at the memory. If my mum hadn’t have walked in at the wrong moment, would he have kissed me? What would it be like to be at the total mercy of such a powerful man? In no way did I have secret desires to be submissive. I’d be pretty wretched to be honest, but I would like to know what it would be like to succumb to Ryan. To be his for one night. I expected it to be pretty addictive. Hercules let out an almighty whine and pawed at my hand before jumping from the window seat.

  I jerked when Hercules cleared my legs and stood growling at the partially closed door. “What is wrong with you tonight?” I asked.

  I turned fully to face him and snapped my fingers to get his attention. But the little guy was seriously disturbed by something on the other side of the wood. Shivers crawled down my spine. My thoughts immediately going to the creeper, the sender of sick images and lame threats. But the alarm would have sounded. Ryan would know – wouldn’t he?

  “This is the part of the movie you scream at the idiot damsel to stay where the hell she is.” I grumbled at Hercules, who had now taken to lying on the floor and whining like he was in pain. Approaching the little guy, I knelt beside him and stroked my hand down his back. “What’s wrong?” I asked as if he could tell me.

  Slowly, on his tummy, he crawled his way across the room to the door. I followed, hating he was now cowering and scared.

  “Herc, you’re really freaking me out,” I whispered and hunkered down. I had no idea why I was making myself smaller, but it was working for Herc.

  His little body slid through the gap in the door, and I followed, holding onto the wood for support. The hallway was empty. I panted like I had just ran a 10K; my heart was palpitating, but that wasn’t what had my blood roaring in my ears. Herc was scratching the hell out of Ryan’s door, trying to get in. He was whining and growling and beating the hell out of the varnished wood.

  “Hercules, stop,” I whisper shouted. The dog only whined louder. I moved to the door and reached down for his collar when I heard a pained groan.

  Oh God, is he...I couldn’t walk in on that again. Clothed Ryan’s a fine specimen of a man, but naked and masturbating transcended words. The thick corded muscles as he pumped at his own flesh. Goose pimples peppered my skin as a hot flush raced through my body to my core. It wasn’t lost on me that I ruthlessly took my fill and gawped at him, so much that the sight was ingrained into my memory.

  Hercules let out an almighty howl, startling me. The way he was behaving was seriously warped. Stepping forward, I covered the handle with my hand. “If we disturb something, Herc, you are sleeping outside.” The dog ignored me, tilting his tiny head to sniff under the door.

  Slowly, and as quietly as possible, I twisted the handle and pushed the door, calling out softly to Ryan. Hercules darted into the room before I could stop him. Immediately, he was beside the bed and was on his hind legs pawing at the side of the mattress like he always does with me, asking for permission. But he wasn’t going to get an answer from the sweaty, writhing mess on the bed.

  “Ryan?” I called out, stepping further into the room and closer to the bed. When he didn’t answer, only muttered something in his sleep, I knew he was having a nightmare.

  “Ryan,” I called and reached out to him. I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook him.

  There was only time to let out a startled scream before his hand clamped over my mouth. He pressed me against the wall. I didn’t even have time to process how he moved so quickly as I stared at him. Trying to make out his features in the dark. The light from the screens on his dresser gave some illumination, but his back was to them. I grasped his wrist and tugged, but he only held tighter. His hand wrapped around my back, and he lifted me to him. “We gotta be quiet, little buddy,” he whispered against my ear. I tried to speak to him, but it was muffled by his hand.

  “Ssh,” he said, cradling me against his chest. His massive arm was a truck around my back. “Come on.” He jerked his head to the side and went to leave the room. Glancing left and right along the hallway, he tiptoed out as if someone would hear us. I mumbled something again, but he didn’t react. As we approached the stairs, visibility was better. The moon illuminated the open space and gave me the opportunity to take in his appearance. He was sweating profusely, but it was the determination in his gaze, and utter fear. He was still dressed, which I found odd.

  “Ryan,” I mumbled against his hand still over my mouth. But it was like no one was home. He was present in body, but his mind had taken a holiday to crazyville.

  Like a pair of ghosts, we made our way through the house without making a sound. He repeatedly glanced behind him as if the devil himself would be chasing us. I was a bystander in his strange behaviour. He headed to the patio doors. He glanced at me, pulling his hand away, and placed his finger over his mouth to tell me to be quiet. Mystified, I could only nod and agree to see where this was going. His face contorted when the door made a hissing squeak as it opened. Again he glanced over in the direction of the stairs; a look of complete panic washed over him. When nothing happened, he crouched and scooped me up into his arms. Not fully understanding why he felt the urge to crouch, I wasn’t so much smaller than he was.

  The night was cool as he stepped out into the garden, but thankfully the summer heat hadn’t dissipated too much. Like a ghost he claimed to be, he navigated through the dark into the trees. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves around us and the odd break of branch beneath his feet. He was tracking a path I didn’t usually take, heading into a darkened dense part of the woodland. So it wasn’t like he was going somewhere we had gone. It was cooler in the thick of the wood, and the smell was strong and earthy. Something fluttered above us, and I flinched. Ryan pulled my closer to his chest. He came to a sudden stop and sat on the damp mossy ground in a small clearing beneath the canopy of the trees, still cradling me in his arms. “I fucking hate it here.” He snarled.

  I sucked in a breath at those hurtful words. It was a job to him, I understood that. But for him to actually hate being here, hurt.

  “I thought I was helping you.”

  “You are,” I whispered, lifting my hand to press it against his chest. His heart was beating wildly. A strong, determined beat.

  “It’s all been fucking pointless,” he mumbled and
scrubbed his hands down his face. Quickly wrapping his arms around me again as though I would suddenly run away. “I didn’t want to hurt you, little man.”

  “What?” I jerked in his arms and stared at his face for any recognition that it was me sitting with him. But he continued as though I had never spoken. Shadows danced around us making the atmosphere and grounds I had grown up in and loved take on an eerie quality.

  “I thought if I hurt you enough times, the hospital would take you away. I thought they’d say it was unsafe for you to live here with us, but they fucking believed her every time. How fucking stupid are they; a kid don’t fall that many times.”

  A strangled gasp escaped me. He had hurt a child? I covered my mouth with my hands, and tears prickled my vision. I shifted on his lap, wanting space, but his arms tightened, and the mighty weight across me held me captive.

  “I saw it. I knew the day you arrived the sick fucker would make you one of his special boys.”

  He continued, but my heart, head and mind hurt with the things he was saying. I watched in horror as he spoke to a child in his sleep, confessing the horrors of their childhood. In that moment I had never been more helpless and pathetic in my entire life. Because it was clear I couldn’t take his pain away.

  “Ryan,” I said in a hoarse whisper. I lifted my hands and cupped his face, the stubble surprisingly soft.

  “I’ll try, buddy, to keep you safe, but other than killing the fucker, I don’t know what to do.”

  From the determination and tensing of his jaw, I utterly believed what he said. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. The tightening hold he had on me warmed me because he was reciprocating my hug. Suddenly, I was thrust away from him as he searched my face. The pain in his eyes ripped through me.

  “Wait, did your dad ever...touch you?”

  “Oh God,” I choked. I blinked, and fat tears rolled down my cheeks. He pulled me to him again, releasing a relieved sign. I guess whatever the answer was, was acceptable. I clung to him, holding the man who had suffered so much.

  “I don’t usually drink, buddy. But today has been a shit day. First Dad needed me.” The broken tone and following grimace indicated what he was needed for, and my stomach churned. How could anyone do that to a child?

  “Then I had a date with Chrissie.” He let out a pained sigh, drawing circles on my back. “I told her I love her today, Chase.”

  Chase?

  “We’ve been fooling around and stuff, and I thought with her wanting to go further that we were at that stage. I think I did love her though. Turns out she’s like the rest. Never trust anyone, buddy. They use you, abuse you, and take whatever you are willing to give. I thought she was different, you know. I shared stuff – bad stuff with her. And she used it to get money from my father. She fucking used me.” A sob broke from his throat on the last words, and I held him tighter.

  “Ryan,” I whispered. It ended on a squeal when Ryan ejected me from his lap. He stood, and I gawped up at him as he glanced around the trees with a bemused expression on his face. Hercules jumped at his leg. He ignored him as he did me and turned, heading back to the house. I scrambled to my feet and jogged after him, wincing in pain when the undergrowth dug into my bare feet. Ryan never paused. He was on a determined mission.

  “Ryan!” I shouted. He turned to face me. A look of utter confusion crossed his features. He glanced around in the dark and down at himself.

  “What the hell are you doing?” He snapped, storming over to me.

  “I need you to carry me back.”

  He stared at me like I was insane. He glanced at my feet and grumbled something under his breath, before his massive arms circled my waist and lifted me.

  “Why are you out here barefoot?”

  Should I tell him he was sleep walking? Or should I talk to Mum and see if any of her clients experienced whatever this was?

  “I must have sleep walked,” I uttered quietly.

  “Jesus, Aloura.” He pulled me closer to his chest and the warmth of his skin burned into me. “I’ll sleep with my door open. I need to hear this shit.”

  I could only bob my head. I was drained and so utterly confused. This hulk of a man was so crazily broken I wanted to wrap myself around him and fight his demons. I needed to talk to Mum and ask her advice without giving too much away. I knew if I gave these moments to my mum Ryan would see it as a betrayal.

  But I needed to know how you healed silent scars.

  “So do you have a girlfriend, Ryan?” Aloura asked from her perch on the counter. She had asked me to make some real s’mores. So after a little shopping trip, we were geared up for hot soup and corn bread with s’mores for desert. She was sitting on the counter with her legs crossed watching everything I did. She only relaxed when I said morning and asked if we were heading out for our run. Maybe it was some residual effect of her sleepwalking.

  “If I did, I’m pretty sure I would have been kicked out on my ass by now.”

  She tilted her head to the side. Aloura was definitely all woman, but sometimes she had these cute mannerisms that made her appear so young and innocent.

  “Why would you say that?”

  My arm shot out to block her swift hands, but the marshmallow was already in her mouth. She lifted her hands above her head and wiggled her ass against the counter in some fucked up victory dance. I said fucked up because when her body moved, parts of mine responded, and now definitely was not the time for my broken dick to make an appearance.

  “Thief,” I grumbled, before placing the last of the fluffy marshmallows in the dish. I decided making her a pan of s’mores would be better than trying to toast them over the gas ring.

  “I have ninja moves, Mr Senior. You could learn a thing or two.” Yep, there went my dick again. I needed to tell her to stop calling me that. It was like Viagra to my cock. “Girlfriend...continue.” She motioned with her hand. I ignored the fact she spoke around a mouthful of sweet goodness, and I pushed away the fact I was desperate to know if she tasted as sweet. I certainly ignored the fact she had sugar powder around her ruby red lips that I ached to lick off.

  “I haven’t had a girlfriend for a long time.” I snorted remembering the bitch I last dated.

  “How long?”

  I grumbled, and she grinned, licking her fingers.

  One. By. One.

  Fuck me.

  “I think I was fifteen or sixteen. Around that age anyway.” I turned to put the pan in the oven as she sucked in a breath and started choking. Quickly, I placed the pan on the counter and headed over to her. I patted her back and watched her face. She put her hand on my bicep and the other on her chest. She coughed a few more times before she caught her breath.

  “Are you trying to kill me? You haven’t had a girlfriend since you were a teenager?” Her eyes narrowed at me. “Why?”

  Checking her over to make sure she wasn’t going to choke anymore, I stepped away. I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “Not much point to it.”

  “Not much...are you a man-whore, Mr Senior?”

  It was my turn to splutter out a shocked response. “No, Aloura. I am definitely not. And my name is Dermont.”

  “You don’t like that name, and Senior suits you better. Do not change the subject. I refuse to believe you haven’t had any – oh my gosh, do you have a harem like Harry?”

  I spluttered, seriously; she was going to kill me. And it would look a total accident if someone choked on their own tongue.

  “Ugh...he dips his wick in anything with boobs,” she continued like I wasn’t on the verge of a coronary.

  “His wick?”

  “At least he’s young and relatively good looking. But how do you perform mattress acrobatics with a new person each night?”

  I was getting whiplash with this conversation. Her statements were so sporadic it was like she was talking to herself aloud.

  “I doubt he’s performing – wait are you implying I’m old and ugly?” I had no idea why that statement bothe
red me. I never cared what women thought. I paid them for a service, not to ogle my appearance.

  “What? No. I meant he’s not like you. You seem the type to be settled with someone, kids the doting wife, maybe a puppy or two. You have this caveman quality about you.”

  “You’re saying I'm a neanderthal?”

  “The way you’re taking everything out of context I’m beginning to think so, yes.” She mock scowled before her face brightened into the most stunning grin. “Personally even though Harry has a lot of bed partners, I think he’s lonely.” She shrugged her dainty shoulders. “Why else would he spend so much time with me?”

  “He’s waiting for you,” I muttered. I busied myself over the stove, stirring the soup. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that any man would be a fool not to fall for her. And I would bet my left nut Harry was hot for her. The way he touched her, the familiar way he slid his body against hers. It was more than a dance. He was staking a claim. I tightened my hold around the handle.

  “I’m nothing like you imagine, Aloura.” My words were like dying ash in my mouth. They were true. But not at all what I wished were true. Deep in the pit of my soul, the very core of me, I had hoped I could have what my brothers had. A woman I could trust, love, and be open with. I wanted to watch her stomach grow with our child, to see that baby grow into a strong, caring man or woman. I wanted it all, but wanting and deserving were two very different things.

  “I can’t remember the last time I had a satisfying date.” She sighed, her gaze fixed on me, and I had the inkling she had randomly chose that statement to pull me out of my slump. It was like she could sense I was slipping away.

  I gripped the ladle so tight my palm started stinging when her words sunk through the fog in my brain.

  Fuck.

  What the hell was a satisfying date? Did that account to multiple screaming orgasms? Did she fuck on the first date? I fisted my hand at my side, hating the surge of jealousy at the pricks that got to touch her. I at least recognised I would never be worthy of someone like her, but clearly there were bastards out there that were delusional and would leave her unsatisfied.