Scarred: A New Adult Romance (The Anderson Brothers Series Book 1)

by Long, Marie

  Someone suddenly slaps me on the shoulder, and I nearly choke.

  “Dude! You made it!”

  I turn my head and widen my eyes at Chris. “Shit!” I hiss and grab his arm and pull him along with me. “Follow. Now.” I knew Chris and Adrienne were going to be here, but I figured they’d be too caught up with the party to notice me.

  Chris gives me a curious look, but tails me. I head down to the basement, where people are pouring drinks from giant steel beer kegs and playing beer pong in the center of the room. The popcorn ceiling vibrates from the music above.

  I hate letting Denise and William out of my sight, even for a moment, but I can’t risk being seen—and possibly ratted out—by Adrienne, wherever she is.

  I spot two empty lawn chairs and make a beeline for them. Sitting down, I finish my drink.

  Chris sits and slides his chair closer to mine. “Dude, you look like you just seen a ghost. What’s up?”

  I stare toward the beer pong game and lower my voice. “Chris, I need you to do me a big favor. Keep away from me, William, and Denise. And Adri needs to do the same.”

  He blinks. “What?”

  I look at him, more serious this time. “I mean it, Chris. This is important. I don’t want either of you talking to any of us. I need to keep an eye on Denise, and I can’t get kicked out of here.”

  “But I thought—”

  “No.” I shake my head. “She came with William. I had to sneak in. And if you tell anyone that, I swear I will kick your ass.”

  “Okay, I promise I won’t tell. But what’s going on with Denise? You need any help?”

  “Naw, I got this. Just keep Adri away from me. She hates my guts right now after the other night. It would be nothing for her to call me out.”

  “Eh, she was drunk. She gets a little crazy sometimes when she’s drunk, but damn, I love the hell out of her.” He finishes his drink and sets the red plastic cup down with several others that litter the floor. “Speaking of which,” he says, getting up. “I better go make sure she’s behaving.”

  I arch an eyebrow, watching him leave. “Adrienne? Behaving?”

  Chris grins. “Well, you know. She can’t be letting a bunch of drunk frat guys grope her. Only I do the groping. And man, do I ever!”

  I raise my other eyebrow. “Uh, all right, see you later.”

  The beer pong game ends not long after Chris leaves, and one guy who was playing lays out on the floor, too piss-drunk to even move. I head back upstairs. There’s laughing and cheering from the patio. Curious, I wander out the back door. A crowd has formed around the man of the hour, Andrew, who’s sitting on his knees at a table covered with shot glasses. My eyes scan the shot glasses sitting before the pale-skinned, lanky guy—twenty-one.

  I survey the rest of the crowd and spot Denise and William standing together on the other side of the circle. Thankfully, they both seem focused on what’s going on and don’t notice me. I remain at the back of the crowd and peer between people. William stands behind Denise, his chin resting on her shoulder with his arms wrapped around her, and his hands slowly rub her midsection. Denise brings a red cup to her lips, and her eyelids flutter as she drinks.

  I frown. How many has she had already? Or did he …

  A Xi guy, who looks like he’s already had a few too many, steps up on a plastic patio chair. A few people in the crowd laugh and try to steady the chair, though they look equally buzzed.

  “Twenty-one shots! Twenty-one questions for our birthday brother!” The crowd cheers, some raising their red cups.

  “Question one! Go!” Chair-guy points to a random person in the crowd—a short, blonde-haired girl wearing a black, strapless dress.

  “Have you ever done a threesome?” she asks, and the crowd responds with hollers.

  Andrew picks up his first shot. “Nope, but the night’s not over yet.” He downs the shot in a single gulp and slams the empty glass on the table. Cheers and whistles erupt from the crowd.

  “Question two!” Chair-guy points to another random person.

  I look across the circle to see William whisper something in Denise’s ear, and she grins, looking back at him. William leads her away from the crowd and they head back into the house. I watch until I can no longer see them, and then I follow after them. They snake through the dancers and drunks and head toward a set of stairs. I wait for them to reach the top of the stairs and disappear around a corner before I slowly follow. Halfway upstairs, I hear a door slam.

  The hallway is lit up with more Christmas lights and lanterns. The doors to the three bedrooms are all closed, a couple is making out on the floor next to the railing, and a girl is sprawled out near one of the doors, drink in hand, her other hand clutching her side. She’s nodding off. Maybe she saw which room they went in.

  I wander over to the girl, kneel down, and gently pat the side of her cheek to rouse her from her drunken stupor. “Hey. Did you just see two people come up here?”

  The girl looks up at me with half-opened green eyes, her frazzled brown hair sweeping across her cute face.

  “Hey,” I say again, now that I seem to have her attention.

  “Ohh shiiiit. DJ Kevitron’s here!” Her speech is slurred.

  I cringe. Do he and I really look that much alike? “Uh, yeah, that’s right. Think you can help me, sweetie?”

  “Mhmm.” She downs the last swallow of her amber drink. Her body jerks, and she groans, her face contorting in pain.

  She hasn’t let go of her side. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  She grunts. “Just some stupid asshole that don’t know how to treat a lady. Pretty face, but feet like fucking lead, telling me to ‘get out the fucking way.’ Who the hell does he think he is? Eh?” She elbows the door behind her and yells, “That’s right, fuck you, asshole!”

  I blink. Did William kick this girl? That son of a bitch. Now that I know what room he’s in, I’m gonna fuck his ass up for this.

  But first, I need to get rid of her before making my move. Things might get violent, and I don’t want innocent bystanders getting hurt. I grab her arm and lift her up from the floor.

  “C’mon, sweetie. Can you stand? I’ll get you away from that asshole.”

  She stumbles and staggers as she gets to her high-heeled feet. Damn, she’s drunk. “I can take care of myself.” She wraps her other arm around me and hangs on for dear life. “But I don’t mind being rescued by DJ Kevitron. Ha! My musical prince came for me.”

  Keeping her steady, I pull her away from the door. Her face gets close to mine, the strong smell of whiskey making me wrinkle my nose.

  “Hey, I gotta pee. Wait for me, ’kay?” she murmurs.

  I wince, her hot, alcohol-tinged breath hitting my ear. “Yeah, sure. Take your time.” I drag her to the only bathroom up here and turn the light on for her. Shoving her inside, I shut the door.

  Now, Denise.

  I return to the door at the end of the hallway. I try it once and discover it’s locked, not to my surprise. Pressing my ear to it, I try to make out any sort of sound, but it’s a little hard with all the party stuff going on below.

  I scowl when I finally make out William’s voice.

  “You don’t know how sexy you look right now, D.”

  “Can we go now? I’m not feeling well,” Denise says.

  “We just got started. It’s time, D.”

  I grit my teeth. The music downstairs ramps up a notch, and it gets even harder to hear what’s happening on the other side of the door. William says something about wanting to make the night memorable for her, and then Denise groans. I catch the words “home” and “headache,” then nothing. But a moment later the sounds of Denise’s moans filter through.

  The music cuts out, and in the sudden silence, their conversation is horribly clear.

  “No … Not tonight,” she says.

  “Not tonight, not tomorrow night, not next week, then when?”

  “I don’t know … ”

  “Stop
being scared.”

  “I’m not, but … wait!”

  My hand falls away from the doorknob, and I rest my forehead against the door and close my eyes. That panicked voice, the uncertainty, calling out for help.

  That was me.

  “No, William!”

  You’re not going to win, you son of a bitch.

  There’s a scream, but it’s so brief, it most likely went unheard.

  By everyone but me.

  I open my eyes.

  I tried screaming, once, too. But he covered my mouth to muffle my screams, nearly suffocating me with his massive hand that smelled like ass and alcohol. I was so scrawny then, and no match for my old man.

  “You need this.”

  “No!”

  “Shut the fuck up!”

  Downstairs, the music has started up again, and it pounds in my head. Red is all I see. Dark crimson that turns me blind with rage. I slam into the door, attempting to plow through it with my shoulder. The door holds, despite my efforts, though there’s a small splinter in the wood where my shoulder hit. The couple in the hallway seem too involved with each other to care about the commotion I’m causing.

  “Keep it down out there!” William yells.

  I step back and try again, using every ounce of my strength. The door swings open, splintering at the hinges and lock. High school football has finally paid off.

  I discover William on the bed, his shirt off, jeans halfway down his ass. He’s straddling Denise, whose blouse is open, revealing her white lace bra. Her pants are off, and her arms and legs are pinned by his.

  William’s head snaps in my direction. His eyes widen and he gawks. “What the fuck are you doing, Dominick?”

  Denise moans, but I don’t sense any sexual feeling in her voice.

  William tightens his hold on her. “I said shut the fuck up!”

  My left eye twitches. I see the way my father hit me. The way he yelled at me. The way he choked Kevin. That pain. That suffering. That near-death experience. It all becomes an endless ball of rage packed into my hands, which snatch one of William’s arms and yank him off the bed. Off Denise. He grunts as he falls to the floor and hits his head on the wooden dresser.

  He gets up awkwardly, nearly tripping over his pants. He pulls them up. Gritting his teeth, he grabs a table lamp sitting on one end of the dresser and holds it up, the cord ripping out of the socket. “Get the fuck out this room, now!”

  I clench my fists. “I will, once I deal with your sorry punk ass.”

  He charges at me with the lamp, and I try to block the incoming blow, but he’s much too strong. I shut my eyes and turn my head as the lamp shatters against my right forearm. It stings like all hell and then goes numb. Shit. I hope it’s not broken. Thankfully, my left side is my fighting side. I see the blur of his fist coming at me, but I land one right on his nose before he has a chance to connect.

  He grunts and stumbles backward, his head snapping back. “Oof!” A line of blood flows from his nose down to his upper lip. He teeters a moment, then comes at me again like a raging bull. “Son of a bitch!” he spits, cocking his hand back.

  I dodge his incoming punch and meet him force for force with my left elbow across his face. His head snaps to one side and blood flies out of his mouth.

  He grabs a handful of my shirt and slams me against the wall. The back of my head hits the drywall hard enough to daze me a moment. I headbutt him, the impact making my own forehead sting, but it’s just enough to break his hold. As he stands there holding his head, I shove him backward. I get some feeling back into my right arm, thank God. Must be the adrenaline.

  “You motherfucking piece of shit!” I say, landing a punch in his solar plexus. I have a headache like all hell, but I’m so pumped, I ignore it.

  He doubles over, and I knee him in the face. A few teeth fly out when the blow connects. He tumbles backward, slamming his head to the floor. I straddle him on my knees and punch him repeatedly across his face. Left. Right. Left. Right. His head whips back and forth. God, this feels good. It’s invigorating to let all this shit out now. Those fucking demons—every bit of my anger is being branded on his body. He’s gonna remember me for a long time. And I won’t hesitate to kick his ass again. And again. Adrenaline overtakes me, and I breathe heavily. My fists are covered in his blood.

  He’s out cold, nose broken, two black and blue eyes, and mouth full of blood and broken teeth. I wipe blood from my hands, get off him, and pull my foot back, ready to deliver a good hard kick to break some of his ribs, when I hear Denise’s weak moan.

  The sound of her voice calms me. Lowering my foot, I turn around. She looks back at me with half-open eyes. She seems to be fighting her own consciousness. I rush to the bedside and sit her upright. Her head bobs around, and her body seems lifeless.

  My God.

  “Denise, can you hear me?”

  She stares blankly, her pupils dilated.

  “I’m getting you out of here and to some help.” I fix her clothes and pull her out of bed, wrapping her arm around me to keep her steady.

  As I head for the door, I look back at William’s unconscious body. As much as I want to finish him off, I decide against it. Killing him will just help him take the easy way out, like Pops.

  We head downstairs to the front door, where Shane is still standing.

  “Leaving already, Genius?” he asks, looking at both of us oddly.

  “Yeah,” I say, my voice emotionless. “I’m taking Denise home.”

  “Where’s William?”

  “Napping.” I harden my gaze, hoping he won’t ask any more about William.

  His brow furrows, but thankfully, he takes the hint and steps aside. “Okay. Take it easy, man.”

  Kevin is still in his same spot, holding a conversation with a different group of girls. “Kevin!” I yell firmly, letting him know that this shit is serious.

  Kevin glances up from the girls, then tells them all goodbye. The girls leave, disappointed. Kevin looks me and Denise over and scowls. “Did you do it?”

  I nod. “I did.”

  “Good job, li’l bro.” Kevin opens the driver-side back door. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s drugged, man. Bad.” I set her in the backseat and climb in next to her.

  “Damn, I’ll get to the hospital as fast as I can.”

  I look at her face and run my hand along her cheek. Her eyes are shut, but she’s still warm. I wrap my arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin. I inhale her pear scent, which I can still smell beneath the alcohol and William’s stink. I feel her heart beating. It’s weak, but there.

  Mine, however, beats fast. Way too fast.

  Chapter 18

  The ride to the hospital seems to take forever. Denise still hasn’t woken up, but she’s still conscious and warm. I trace my hand down her arm to her hand and gently interlock my fingers with hers. The passing streetlights outside reveal her pale face, and I frown.

  “Hang in there,” I murmur. But I’m not sure she can hear me.

  I glance at the rearview mirror, and Kevin’s eyes meet mine. Then he looks back to the road.

  We arrive at the emergency entrance of the university hospital, and I hop out of the car with Denise. She can barely stand, so I carry her inside. Kevin goes to find a place to park. I hate hospitals. The smells, the dreariness, the cold feeling of death and sickness everywhere. It reminds me of the first time I came here as a kid. I swore I’d never return to a hospital again.

  Well, here I am, but this time, I’m not the unfortunate patient.

  I stand at the receptionist’s desk, Denise in my arms as I try to sign her in. Her body is limp, and her head is tilted to the side like she’s sleeping.

  As I explain Denise’s condition, and what happened to her, the receptionist’s eyes settle on her, and the woman’s face pales. She buzzes a nurse, and moments later, the double doors that lead further into the emergency room swing open. A nurse wearing b
lue scrubs wheels out a stretcher. She’s young, wears glasses, and her dirty blonde hair is tied in a ponytail.

  “Sir, we need to get her to immediate treatment. Please lay her down here,” the nurse says, patting the sheet-covered padded cushion of the stretcher.

  I do so carefully. Denise’s head leans to the side, and her eyes are still closed. She looks peaceful in that state. “Where are we going?” I ask the nurse.

  She sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to be with her at this time. I will take it from here.”

  “What? But, Denise—”

  “We will take good care of her, sir. For now, though, you must wait out here until a nurse or doctor gives the okay.”

  “How long will that be?”

  “I’m not sure. Perhaps several hours, at the very least. Now, please … ” She steps in front of the stretcher and pushes it through the double doors.

  Denise …

  I stand at the closed double doors, staring helplessly. Finally, I slump my shoulders and make my way to the waiting room. It isn’t too crowded in here, and I settle in a vacant chair in the back.

  The pain and numbness in my right arm returns as my adrenaline high subsides. Now that I know it’s not broken, I’ll just ice it up when I get home.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out. Chris. I frown and reluctantly answer it. “What’s up?”

  “Dom? Did you leave already?”

  “Yeah. I’m at the hospital right now.”

  “What? What the hell’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, Chris, I’m fine. Look, I gotta go. I’ll be home later and we can talk.”

  “Dom! Wait, why haven’t you—”

  I end the call and stuff the phone back in my pocket. I look up in time to see Kevin come into the waiting room. He sits in an empty chair beside me.

  “How’s she doing?” He asks with concerned eyes.

  “The nurse just took her in,” I say. “Denise was conscious, but I don’t know what kind of damage William may have done to her.” I crack my knuckles. I swear, if William infected her with an STD or worse, I will make him pay.