Scarred: Hudson & Callie (Oak Springs Book 2)

by Lucy Rinaldi

  “John?” The prick! I went to school with that jackass. He was never the kind of guy Callie would have dated. What the hell happened? Did she lose her mind when it came to men after I left?

  My brother nods. “Paige told me…”

  “Paige? Paige Monroe?”

  He nods his head. God, I haven’t seen her in so long. I wonder if she still has a crush on my brother. “She’s a nurse now.” Wow! It’s amazing how quickly time changes people. Right now, the only image I have of her in my head is the seventeen-year-old girl in love with my brother.

  “Anyway,” He continues, “she told me that John took one look at Callie lying in that hospital bed, bandages all over her body, and told her he couldn’t be with her anymore.”

  I narrow my eyes. He left her?

  “He didn’t want to be saddled with her when she looked the way she did. He didn’t want a girlfriend who’d been raped and mutilated. Apparently, he told Callie in front of her sisters, that to him it felt like she’d cheated on him.”

  “What the fuck?” He fucking blamed her for what happened to her! Son-of-a-bitch!

  My brother nods. “I know. According to Lora, John told Callie, she was no longer perfect.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Callie has always been perfect, in every single way. How could that son of a bitch treat her like that?! “Tommy told me,”

  “Tommy Palmer?” I’m beginning to sound like a broken record, or an amnesia patient trying to remember people.

  He nods again. “He said that Callie wasn’t at all bothered. She told John that he could go because he was never anything to her in the first place.”

  Why didn’t he tell me any of this when I called in the past? It’s like he kept things from me deliberately. Obviously, that’s what he did. But I don’t understand why. I feel so fucking hurt by this. I should’ve been here for her, dammit!

  “No one really sees Callie anymore. She works in her bakery, but doesn’t come out front. She teaches an art class on Saturday mornings, but no one really sees her face. She keeps it covered like some phantom of the opera shit. Is that why you didn’t see her scars?”

  “She wasn’t wearing any mask, Enzo. I told you this. Do you ever listen?”

  “I was just checking.” Checking? Why does he never take my word for it? If she was wearing a mask I would have seen it! “It’s just a little odd when she always wears it. Especially if she’s out. She makes sure no one can see her scars.”

  “I didn’t see a mask. Was this guy caught?”

  He better have been caught. If he hasn’t, I won’t stop until he’s fucking found and killed! I have enough money and power to find anyone. Being born into money has its advantages. Investing it well, so it can grow into the billions is even better. My brother is a smart man and knew just how to make our money grow.

  “You remember Freddy Estella? My best friend?” I nod, I vaguely remember Enzo’s friends. Only one or two actually stick out in my mind. Freddy was his best friend, of course, I remember him, the guy was always around. “Well, he’s sheriff Harper’s deputy. He shot the guy in the head. Killed him outright.” Good! “He’s marrying Della.”

  “Callie’s sister?” He nods with a smirk. “Wow,”

  “Lora married Tommy Palmer.”

  “You’re shitting me?” I laugh out loud. Tommy was obsessed with Callie when we were kids, now he’s married to her sister. Because that’s not weird at all.

  “Nope. They’re having a kid… It’s been hard for that family. Don’t go waltzing back into Callie’s life and expect her to want anything to do with you. She lives alone with her dogs and won’t let any of us near her. She has a handful of girlfriends, including her sisters, and they’re the only ones who really see her. I suppose getting stared at and having shit yelled at you about your appearance would make anybody want to become a recluse.”

  “People yell stuff at her?”

  “Not as much as they used to. Just remember what I said, Sonny.” I nod without replying.

  I can sit in this old fashioned Irish pub all night and let what my brother has told me sink into my brain and then let it stir up my emotions until they cut me to ribbons. Or, I could go over to Callie’s and see if she’ll speak to me. I won’t mention anything about what Enzo has told me. I’ll make out like I don’t know. I won’t acknowledge her scars. I’ll just talk to her like I used to. We were best friends once upon a time, lovers, engaged for Christ’s sake. I may have walked away from her and let my life slip by me for five years, but I’m home now. And I want her back. I won’t stop until she’s mine again.

  *

  I take off from the bar without much of an explanation to my brother. I knew he’d try and talk me out of going over to Callie’s. I can’t stop thinking about her, even more so now I know something bad happened to her. Something awful. I want to hold her, to make it all better for her. I should have fucking been here for her. I will never ever forgive myself for not being here.

  “Sonny Ryker, as I live and breathe.”

  My hand stalls midair, the keys to my truck dangling as I turn to look at the blonde, now standing behind me. “Miranda Lowe. How are you?”

  “I’m good!” Airhead bimbo is not an apt description for this woman. She was exactly the same at school. Too much makeup, heels too high, hair always salon styled. And I can’t help noticing her now fake boobs.

  Barbie doll.

  That was always Callie’s description for her.

  “It’s been so long.” She grabs my shoulders and kisses my cheek.

  She smells good, but then women like her usually do. Her short skirt and virgin white blouse make her look younger than she is. Isn’t she cold? Jesus, it’s November for God’s sake. She’s not a bad person, she’s just… dim.

  “How have you been? What are you doing back? Are you staying?”

  I chuckle, she’s always been this way.

  “I’ve been good. I’m back because I feel like I’ve been away from home long enough. And, I’m not sure if I’m staying or not yet, it all depends on Callie.”

  “Callie Harper?” I nod. “Um… have you seen her since you got back?”

  “I have.” I nod nonchalantly as I push my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

  “I feel for her. She’s ashamed of who she is now. She only really comes out at night if she can help it. I see her sometimes walking along the waterfront at night with her dogs.”

  “Have you seen her tonight?”

  She shakes her head. “She didn’t do her classes today either” I narrow my eyes a little. She smiles. “She teaches an art class at the community center Saturday mornings, and she does a Krav Maga class in the evening. Or at least she does the easier stuff. She gets tired quite easily. I attend both classes, but she didn’t turn up. I heard her friends talking about it. I don’t think she went into work either. Which isn’t like her at aaall” She draws out the last word with a shrug.

  In all the years I’ve known Callie Harper, she’s never taken a day off from anything. She attended school every single day, even when she wasn’t feeling too good. Not that Callie was ever ill back then. I don’t even remember her having a cold. She was always so happy and fun loving. Everybody’s best friend, and the life and soul of every party. If Callie Harper wasn’t attending the party was not the same.

  What happened to my girl?

  Okay, I haven’t spoken to many people about her since I’ve been back, but it seems everyone is under the same impression about what happened to her. I want to hear it from her own mouth. Not that I believe for one second she’d actually tell me what happened. If she hasn’t been out of her house all day then something must be wrong. I need to see her. I need to make sure she’s okay.

  “Randy, do you know where Callie lives?” She smirks at me. “It’s been a while since I’ve been home, she might have moved,” I say with a smile.

  “She still lives in the house you had built for you guys” She does?

  I make my excuses to l
eave, telling Miranda we’ll catch up properly soon. I need to get to Callie and now.

  Four

  Callie

  I woke up late this morning. Too late to make it into work. Okay, it’s never too late to go into work, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go. Which just isn’t like me, I’m never late for anything and I never take a day off just because.

  I ended up calling Chris, another teacher at the center and asking him if he could teach my class this morning. I knew that even though my class is at 8 am, I just wouldn’t make it. Lucky for me, he could fill in.

  Teaching art at the community center was something my mother got me into after what happened to me. She said it would be therapeutic for me and help me move forward with my life. As much as I hate my mom interfering in my life, she had a valid point. And I can’t deny that it has helped me. I’m not one hundred percent there yet, but I’m moving on from what happened, slowly.

  My mother has also booked me in with my plastic surgeon, Dr. Baker, to have the scars on my face fixed. I met with him last week for the first time since this happened, and he was optimistic this time that he could reduce what people see.

  My body will be harder work with, but he says he can make the scars on my abdomen less noticeable as well. The one on my back shouldn’t be too hard for him to fix either. I will never look the way I once did, but at least I won’t look like this forever. I’ll never be able to wear a bikini, but I’ll be able to wear a swimsuit without feeling ashamed of what’s beneath.

  My sisters were none too happy about the “Operation” thing when they found out it was actually going to happen. Lora seems to think my mother is forcing it on me. I guess in a way she is. But I have to admit the advantages of having the operation far out way my need to yell at my mom for making me feel not good enough. Which is how I felt at first.

  Actually, that’s how it’s felt since the day I was attacked. Both of my parents treat me differently. Neither of them can bear to look at me for long. In fact, my dad hasn’t looked me in the eye since it happened.

  Don’t get me wrong, I know they love me, they just have their own ideas of who I should be now. And that includes my mom trying to marry me off to every Tom, Dick, Harry, and David. She has no obvious faith that I could find a man of my own who would love me the way I am. I sometimes wonder if she offers the men she brings to meet me money in order to marry me. I wouldn’t put it past her.

  Sometimes, I wonder when my mom will get the hint. I don’t want to be set up with men I grew up with, men she works with, men my father works with, men my sisters work with, men they meet on their nights out in Portland, men from my mother’s groups, her son’s friends, etc.

  She really has no clue how embarrassing it is when I walk into my childhood home to find a man sitting with my mother, there to talk me into a date. I then have to sit through my mother telling me how said man is going to marry me, not that I have a choice in the matter, according to her.

  Of course, there’s no way on earth I even go on a date with whichever guy she brings around. They don’t really want me, they just want to be some big hero to everyone in town. I don’t need saving from anyone. The sooner people realize that the better.

  I should have taken a shower and gotten ready for work as soon as I woke up this morning. I didn’t. I let the dogs out to do their business and then went back to bed. I slept the frigging day away. I hadn’t even heard my phone ringing.

  Lora had called me over and over, even left text messages, along with my friends. All wondering if I was okay. I had a missed call from Della. She left me a voice mail, letting me know she made it to her destination in one piece, and that she was just about to meet with her client before turning around and coming home.

  I sent everyone a message telling them I was fine and I just needed a day to myself. Della texted me back telling me everything went well with the client and she couldn’t wait to get home. She can’t stay away from Freddy for long. Their love is quite nauseating sometimes. Lora told me she’d taken care of Callie’s Bakery & Deli. My pride and joy. But today it seems like my enemy. As it does on days when I feel so down.

  I managed to pull myself together enough to shower and get ready for my self-defense class, dressing in my usual Lycra pants and ass length T-shirt. I have to cover the scars somehow. The ones on my right arm aren’t too noticeable, so I don’t have to wear a long-sleeved T-shirt any longer. Somehow I can’t stop myself from doing so, though.

  I thought I could do my class and feel better. Not that I’ve managed to leave the house. As soon as I looked at myself, I knew I couldn’t walk out of the house as much as I willed myself to.

  I’ve just been sitting here for the past hour staring into space. This isn’t like me, I don’t let things get to me like this. Not this badly, at least. Not for some time now.

  I have kept on fighting, especially after what happened. But seeing Hudson Ryker after all this time has knocked me for sixes, sevens, and eights. I have longed for him to come home since the moment he left me here alone. I’ve longed for him not to come home to me from the day I went through hell and back, all the time wishing he was with me to hold me and tell me I’m not the monster everyone sees me as. Or the monster I believe they see me as.

  How ironic is that? Longing for a man and hoping he doesn’t come home at the same time. Seeing him again after all this time has thrown me for a loop. There’s no doubt that I still love him, I never stopped. But I’ve been through hell and back. Things have happened that I just couldn’t tell him about, things that happened way before I was attacked.

  Then there’s the fact he’ll never want me looking the way I do now. I’m not only scarred outwardly, but inwardly as well. I may have almost healed on the outside but inside I’m a complete mess, body, and mind. I still can’t lift heavy things, I still get out of breath sometimes, and some days, I’m too weak to even let my dogs out.

  They keep telling me I’ll get there soon enough. But some days it doesn’t feel that way. That monster took everything from me. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew just where to cut and make me bleed the most without actually killing me. I guess a doctor would know how to do that.

  Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

  The dogs are going crazy. The door has been knocking for…? I don’t know how long, I was in a world of my own. I sigh to myself and get out of my seat. Ugh! I’m still wearing my workout clothes, minus my sneakers.

  “It’s okay, guys,” I call to my dogs, Cooper, my German Shepherd, and Roxy, my Rottweiler. Roxy is two, my father got her for me after what happened. He said, along with Cooper, she’d make a wonderful guard dog. He was right.

  I love Cooper, he’s six years old and my very best friend. I remember when I got him as a puppy. Hudson bought him for me as a Christmas present, along with having this house designed and built for us. I was so happy that day, that was the day he proposed to me. That was the day I thought nothing could touch us, nothing could ever tear us apart. We had everything. Why did he have to ruin it all?

  “Shh…” I soothe the dogs, but I don’t lock them in the den while answering the door, I never do just in case. They’re well trained and know to sit beside me and not move unless I say so. Or unless someone lunges at me, of course. “Who is it?!” I yell.

  “Sonny. I brought dinner”

  Sonny. Everyone calls him Sonny. I always refused to call him Sonny unless I was pissed off with him. I only ever called him Hudson. And I would never call him Sonny while we were having sex, even if it was angry sex because Hudson always sounded so much sexier than Sonny.

  I close my eyes and breath deeply. What the hell is he doing here? I didn’t invite him here. This may have been his house too once upon a time, but it isn’t any longer! Okay, technically he still owns the place, but this is my home.

  “Who sent you here?”

  “No one. I wanted to see you. I brought your favorite Chinese food.” I sense his smile on the other side of the door.


  If I let him in, he’ll see my face. The only people who see my face are my family and my best friends once in a while. I wear my mask everywhere else. It’s embarrassing, but it allows me to at least teach my class and learn self-defense without feeling like a total freak.

  If I’m totally honest, not even my family and best friends have seen me without my mask in months. I don’t feel comfortable without it anymore. I just feel so ugly.

  “Baby, I’m not leaving until you open the door.” Baby. He called me baby. It’s been so long since I heard that word from him that my emotions are threatening to spill over.

  “I’ll just be a minute!” I call out.

  “I’ll be here.”

  I won’t open the door in this getup. I run to my room and change into a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt. I pull my hair from the ponytail, ruffling it with my fingers before braiding it, and then slipping on my half face mask. I spray a little perfume.

  Why the hell am I tarting myself up for him?

  Okay, I wouldn’t go that far, but I feel nervous. Like I need to impress him. Yeah, who am I trying to kid? I’m never going to be able to impress him again.

  I suck in a deep breath and wipe my hands over my long dark hair, making sure it’s not all over the place. For some reason, when I braid my hair it fly’s everywhere. It’s just so damn unruly.

  I open the door slowly, but not enough for him to see my whole face. My breath catches in my throat. How is it possible for him to be even more beautiful than the last time I saw him? He’s wearing dark jeans and a tank with a black leather jacket. His muscles are so visible under that shirt. He’s been taking care of himself while he’s been gone that much is obvious.

  His smile is infectious. He seems too happy to see me. “I should have known you’d still be living here.” He smiles.

  I don’t say anything. What is there for me to say? That I still live in the house he built for us because I couldn’t bear to leave? That I liked feeling close to him? That I couldn’t move on from what we had? All of that is true, but I won’t tell him that.