Silent Scars (Surviving #4)

by Ada Frost

  I curled tighter into a ball, trying anything to dispel the pain and anxious energy pumping through my body. I felt even more alone when my baby boy didn’t jump onto the bed to comfort me.

  “I'm not worth this, Aloura,” A deep rumbling voice sounded from behind me. I refused to turn and look at him. I knew what a mess I would appear after crying for what felt like an eternity. “I’m going to hold you. I need to hold you. But if you don’t want that, say it, and I swear I will stop.” I didn’t acknowledge his words. I stayed curled in a ball on top of my quilt. The bed dipped, and I held my breath, waiting to feel his hands on me again. I craved that connection. His words had slayed me, shattered me into a thousand pieces, but his touch would heal because I knew it had taken every ounce of his courage to open my door and come to me.

  He sought me.

  That was epic.

  Ryan’s massive frame tentatively rested at my back. I felt his chest press against me when he inhaled a deep breath, and the bed shifted again as he settled more firmly behind me. He obliterated space between us when his arm banded around me, slid up my forearm, and his fingers laced between mine. I kept both my hands clasped around his.

  He rested his chin on my shoulder for a few moments before he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  I blinked more tears. One rolled down my nose, making it tickle, and I had the urge to let go of him to wipe my nose, but I was scared he would vanish.

  “Please don’t cry, tiny dancer. I’m a bastard.”

  “No, you’re not,” I croaked.

  “Look at me. Let me see you,” he pleaded and touched my shoulder. I turned my head but refused to move my body. He released his hold on my hand and ran his thumb over my cheek.

  “I’m not worth these.”

  I rolled my head away and stared out the window. The night sky was turning to morning. A new day was about to begin, and a feeling of dread settled in my stomach that something was about to end.

  “To me you are.” I wasn’t sure he heard me because I barely whispered the words. But when his arms tightened around me, and he pressed his face into the nape of my neck, I knew he had. Until his warmth was blanketed around me, I hadn’t noticed how cold I was.

  We stayed silent, the only noise passing between us was that of our gentle breaths.

  “It was an IED attack. We were on daily foot patrol in surrounding areas to ensure camp safety. It was hot as hell, but it always was in full combat uniform. The squad patrolled a compound, and six local males were there with two female kids. We were never welcome. We’re essentially invading their homes. Staff Sergeant Hollis with the use of the interpreter talked, seeking information why they were there, who they were, shit like that. We took the info we needed to establish our mission was safe. Staff Sergeant Daniels was handing out fucking candy to the kids when the first shot happened. The bullet went straight through the kid and into his thigh. The other kid screamed, and Daniels grabbed her and tried to get them to safety. We took cover, established the enemy firing point, returned fire, and eventually detained the enemy shooter. I remember all that shit, the kids screaming and women crying for their sons and husbands as they were taken away, but then it’s a blur of screams and pain. The IED wiped us out. Killed five of my platoon, severed the leg of Corporal Reynolds and fucked the rest of us.”

  I turned in his arms and wrapped myself around him. Clinging to him tightly.

  “Had I been hit millimetres closer to my spine, I would have been paralysed. I’ve had numerous skin grafts to get my back to look even remotely normal. I know it’s an ugly mess, and I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  I lifted my face to glance at him. The most beautiful man I had ever seen.

  “Ryan, I wasn’t crying because I found your back horrendous. I was upset because of the pain you must have gone through. It’s like your pain is endless. You’ve suffered through too much, and it hurts to know that you’ve done it alone. I'm not sickened by you. I'm proud of you.”

  Ryan’s arms tightened around me to a point it was almost painful. I slid my hand between us and reached for his beanie. I didn’t want anything else between us.

  He placed his hands over mine, preventing me from removing his hat. “Ryan, you’ve shared the secrets of your past. The ugly truths of what horror you lived through. I’m still here. I know there are scars. Trust me, what is under here is going to be as beautiful as the rest of you.”

  “No,” he choked. I held my breath as he shifted away from me. He sat up, and I wanted to cry at the loss of his warmth. I was determined to be patient and let him come to me. I wouldn’t push him anymore. But my pulse skyrocketed when he lay down beside me. Facing me. I wriggled down the bed, and we lay side by side on my pillow facing one another, sharing the same breath. I held my own hands and tucked them near my chin. I smothered a gasp when he reached out and took my hand in his.

  “Why am I doing this?”

  “Holding my hand?”

  “No. Yes. All of it.”

  “You feel safe,” I said quietly. The words exploding like a bomb between us. Because it was apparent that was one thing Ryan had never felt.

  He exhaled a long shuddering breath, fanning warmth over my face. His free hand reached up and pulled back his cap. He closed his eyes tightly, and the tension in his body was rolling off his body in waves. I clenched my jaw and blinked furiously to fight back the emotion wanting to burst free at his complete faith in me. Had I not been lying down, I would quite possibly have crumbled to the floor in a gibberish mess.

  I shifted gently, lifting onto one of my elbows so I could see him. Ryan’s hold tightened, and his jaw ticked. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. I pressed my forehead against his and squeezed his hands.

  “It’s just me, fumbling, clumsy Aloura.” I spoke against his skin, my lips caressing his furrowed brow. His body shivered under my lips, his hands loosened, and a small part of me feared he would push me away. That I had asked far too much of him tonight. I sent a silent prayer up to the heavens that he wouldn’t do that.

  “Aloura.” His raspy voice was a broken plea.

  “I’m not...this isn’t...sexual. Ryan, I just want to comfort you. If this has gone too far, we can stop.” I paused and waited for him to speak.

  It was only seconds, but in the silence of the room it felt more like hours before he reacted. He released a loud sigh and quickly wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my chest. He curled his endlessly long legs between mine and wrapped his massive arms around me. If anyone else had done this, I would have been suffocated, and desperate to free myself from the bodily cocoon. But the heat of his body and desperate clawing at my skin had me tightening my hold on him and pressing as close to him as I possibly could. My heart was beating so wildly he must have been able to feel it. I shivered even though my temperature soared.

  Slowly, I raised my hand, giving him opportunity to stop me. It was like approaching a skittish horse. I was terrified of hurting him more. With a feather light caress I stroked my hand over his dark brown hair. I had expected it to be a severe buzz cut, but his hair was about an inch long, and in the dim light it looked black. It was so silky as I slid my hand through, letting it slide between my fingers. I shivered when he let out a long sigh against my neck. If at all possible, he snuggled closer, placing his meaty palm between my shoulder blades and bringing me against him tightly. I continued to run my hand over his head. I fought my instincts to investigate the raised bumps on his scalp. I knew those were the scars he tried so desperately to hide.

  “You don’t –” He lifted his hand and placed it over mine, stopping my movements.

  “I don’t what?”

  “You don’t have to touch them,” he choked. The insecure lilt to his voice shattered me. Reflexively, I tightened my hold on his scalp. I lifted my chin and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He burrowed further against my chest, bringing the back of his head just below my chin. I twisted, shifting on the bed so I was leaning more on the pillo
ws and he was cradled in my arms. His head was nestled against my chest. His arm banded around my back.

  “Let go,” I whispered against his hair and kissed him there. Slowly, his hand released mine and wrapped around me again. That’s when I saw the scars. The ones he tried ardently to hide.

  “I know they’re vile,” he murmured.

  Lifting my chin and straining my neck, I kissed the biggest of the scars. They were so prominent against his dark hair. Pale silvery skin in angry slashes across the back of his skull. One ran down his neck into his vest. It was like a tree of scars growing from his neck into his hairline. A tear rolled down my cheek, the emotion of the intimacy we were sharing overwhelming me.

  “Don’t waste tears on me, Aloura. I’m not worth them,” he mumbled against my camisole. I wasn’t sure how he knew. But his words brought a flood forward.

  “You are worth mine and more, Ryan. I’ve never met anyone more worthy of someone’s compassion than you. Allow me this, okay?”

  With each stroke of my hand through his hair I felt his body relax. The tension in his arms seeped away; his breathing evened out. The room was silent. I closed my eyes and absorbed the feeling of Ryan in my arms, his warm even breaths on my chest. His arms wrapped around me as I ran my fingers over his scalp. I released a soft sigh, and a slow grin curled my lips.

  “Am I crushing you?”

  “Hmm? No, I thought you were asleep.”

  “I’m scared to go to sleep in case you disappear and this is all a dream. I’ve never been held like this before, and I’m scared of losing it.” His voice burst from his lips in one frantic breath. His arms tensed.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I will hold you for as long as you want or need.”

  “You’re the first person to ever hold me like this. Ane, Will’s mom tried, but all I allowed was her to place her arm around me.” I felt the tension creeping back into his shoulders. “I used to hold little Jo like this. He would cling to my neck like I was –”

  “His hero.”

  “God no, never that.”

  “You may not like it, but you were. And still are, I imagine.”

  “Jo was a mess for a long time. The kid wouldn’t leave the house. Eventually they adopted Jo, so he officially became their son.”

  “And you?”

  “I was legal age, no need to adopt me.”

  “But?”

  “I think of them as my parents. I don’t know if that’s fair to them. They wanted Jo”

  I shifted, aligning our bodies so I was face to face with him.

  “I brought a lot of shit on their family. Will had to employ a team of lawyers to fight our case. They endured being outcasts to the rest of people in town for sending the DA to prison.”

  “They loved you regardless,” I uttered.

  “I owe them more than I’ll ever earn in a lifetime. And some things I can’t ever pay back with money.”

  “I have a feeling they would refuse your money?”

  “Pretty much. Mom jokes that she will accept a couple grandkids.” He snorted, like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. But I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than having mini-Ryans running about the place.

  “Sounds fair.”

  “Never going to happen,” he rebuffed vehemently.

  I nodded my acceptance. I didn’t have the emotional strength for yet another battle. Didn’t stop me from hoping that one day someone would be lucky enough to receive his love and give him everything in this world that he possibly deserved. I wanted to be that person. I needed to be that for him.

  The continued banging was seriously beginning to piss me off. I snuggled further into my pillow trying to block out the noise when I felt it. The thick solid band of muscle wrapped around my waist. His fingers laced with mine, anchoring me to him. Whoever was banging on my door could bugger off because there was no way I was leaving this bed when I was wrapped in Ryan’s massive arms. I held my breath and pressed back against him, hoping I could snuggle into him without waking him.

  “Why are you holding your breath?” Came his deep rumbling voice.

  I froze and cursed myself for being too greedy and not simply settling for his arms.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” God did I always sound like a chain smoker first thing in the morning?

  “I’ve been awake for four hours.”

  “What?”

  “I woke just after six, let the guy in to change the locks on the doors, which I’m surprised you slept through. Made us coffee, which I drank because again you sleep like the dead, Aloura. There is a new alarm system being set up and more cameras.”

  My cheeks pinked with embarrassment, but it didn’t stop the smile curving my lips. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  I felt his shoulders shrug. “I liked holding you.”

  He couldn’t say things like that and not expect me to react. Turning in his arms, I brought my arms between us and flattened them against his chest. The steady beat of his heart thudded against my palm. He’d changed into a black t-shirt since last night, but he still looked amazing. I lifted my gaze to look at him, my lips parted in a bright smile when I saw the wretched beanie was missing. His inky hair was tousled like he’d simply ran his fingers through it and left it. I was right in my guess of colour. It wasn’t black, but a very dark brown. He had light strands, almost as if the sun had blessed them.

  “You look different with hair.” I grinned when he shifted and nervously ran his hand over the top of it, flattening the tousled spikes. He grimaced and averted his gaze from mine. Lifting my hand, I threaded my fingers through the soft strands, purposely touching the scars at the base of his skull.

  “I like it. You look incredibly sexy, Mr Senior,” I whispered conspiratorially, leaning towards him slightly. The deep blue of his eyes, which I had come to love, turned indigo. His nostrils flared slightly, and that was the only warning I had before I was pressed into the mattress, and my mouth was devoured by a hungry marine.

  “It drives me crazy when you call me that.” He groaned into my mouth.

  “I know.”

  He released a growl and plundered my mouth with his deliciously warm tongue. I gripped at his massive arms, opening my legs so his hips could slide between them. His hot pulsing arousal pressed against me, forcing a whimper from me.

  “God, you’re so fucking responsive. I can feel your pussy through my sweatpants. Is it wet for me, darling? If I slide my hand inside those panties, will your greedy pussy welcome me?”

  I whimpered with need. I clenched my thighs around his hips and lifted against him. His sharp teeth scraped against the sensitised skin at my neck. But his hands remained grasping at my arse and thigh.

  “Will one taste cause addiction? Are you to become my drug, tiny dancer?” His hand moved from my thigh, skating over my hip bone and stalling at the edge of my knickers. I pressed into his hand, urging him on. I would die if he didn’t touch me soon.

  “If I slide my fingers inside this lace, will you be wet for me?”

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “Do you want me to touch you?”

  “Yes.” I rolled my body beneath him. My nails digging into his solid muscles.

  “Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?”

  Air rushed out of my lungs. I pushed my head back into the pillow, mindless with desire for him.

  “Yes, God yes.”

  “I’m no God, but I will rule your body.”

  A moan of absolute pleasure escaped me when finally, his fingers slid into my underwear. I should have been embarrassed at how wet I was for him, but all sensibility retreated when his thick finger pressed over my clit. His broad chest touched mine, holding me down on the bed, consuming me. Holding me captive to him, and him alone. He was suffocating my senses, making them puppets to him.

  “Hard or slow?” he whispered against my ear, biting on the soft flesh of my lobe. “Tell me. If you want my fingers inside you, demand how you want it
. Hard or slow?”

  “Ryan,” I pleaded as his two middle fingers slid inside me. The intrusion creating a combination of craving need and absolute agony. Agony because he wasn’t moving, and it wasn’t enough.

  “Hard or slow?”

  “Fast,” I choked out, gasping for precious breath.

  “Naughty girl,” he chuckled as he simultaneously curled his fingers inside me and sucked on my neck. “Hard or slow? Fast is never an option. I will never want it to be over quickly. Touching you should always be savoured. So I ask again.”

  “Hard,” I all but screamed. I needed him to move. I could barely breath my mind was so lost in lust with him.

  Pressing hard against me as he pulled out of me torturously slow. I clawed at his skin. When he thrust them back in just as slowly, I wanted to cry out in frustration.

  “No. I think it needs to be slow.”

  “You bastard,” I gasped, wrapping my legs around his hips and digging my heels into his thighs, trying to cause more friction where I needed it.

  “Now that isn’t very nice.” He chuckled, licking a path down the centre of my chest. His fingers thrust deep into me at the same time his thumb stroked over my clit. I cried out as light exploded behind my eyelids. Ryan’s mouth latched onto my silk covered nipple and bit down hard. I was helpless to the orgasm that exploded inside me.

  “Oh...fuck,” I choked. The breath was stolen from me as his delicious assault on my body intensified. The sweet pleasure cursing through my body drained me of coherent speech.

  “If I put my mouth on you, would your clit throb against my tongue as wildly as your pulse?”

  As my mind cleared from my orgasm; my body was truly spent. I released my punishing hold on him and let my arms flop to the side. Loosening my thighs from their death grip around his waist.