“Talk to me, please,” she whispers, her voice full of hurt and innocence.
But I can’t. I have no words of comfort. The one thing I didn’t want to happen, has. And nothing I can say or do, will undo the pain I’ve caused her.
The only option left is making my father pay. And I will make him pay. Until he’s screaming for me to stop and begging for his life.
“Let’s go,” I mutter, handing her the helmet.
“NO!” she screeches, causing a scene. “Talk to me, Nate. Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling.”
“I’m not that guy,” I say, stepping back a little. “Get on the goddamn bike, Tara.”
I lift my leg, mounting the bike, waiting for her to follow my lead. She stares at me for a few seconds before finally getting on. Her arms wrap around my waist as we set off, heading back to the house.
Tara
I cling on to him, wondering if this will be the last time we ride together. I have no idea how he found out about what happened with his father, but I’m dying inside at the thought of losing him again.
It doesn’t take long before we are back at the clubhouse. Heading inside, he stops in the huge doorway, holding out his hand to me, and I almost burst into tears.
I know words don’t come easy to Nate, but a small gesture such as this means more than any words he could say. Making our way upstairs we head into the bedroom. Dropping down on the bed, dread causes my stomach to roll. Nate is tense and stands, resting his back against the wall opposite me.
“I need to know the truth, Tara. No secrets. No lies. I have to know everything.”
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to lose you,” I say. And it’s the truth. I feared the consequences of being honest.
“You didn’t trust me?”
Feeling furious and flustered, I glare at him. “That’s not it. Not at all. Things were so messed up; you’d sent me away for God’s sake. I had no idea what was happening between us, and what? You expect me to just call you saying, oh, by the way your father raped me.” My entire body shakes, but I soon regret my outburst.
His face contorts as the words slip from my mouth without thought. He storms into the adjoining bathroom; the sound of glass smashing and Nate growling causes me to jump up from the bed, craning my neck to see that he’s okay. I step slowly toward the bathroom, jerking at every loud sound he makes. Peering inside, glass covers the counter and sink, smashed tiles and broken shards scattered over the floor.
“Nate, please…” I whisper my plea and he snaps his head to face me. All of his features are hardened and blood drips from his knuckles.
“But things have been good,” he blurts out, his breathing almost a pant as his eyes are focused on me. “Real fucking good between us, baby. Why didn’t you say something?” Stepping toward the frame of the door, he rests himself against it, one hand on either side.
“We just got back on track. I wasn’t sure how you’d take it or if you’d even want me when you knew what happened.”
“This is all my fault.” He turns his back on me, rearing back his fist and punching the wall over and over.
“Please, stop!” I screech, jumping in front of him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the wall. He staggers toward me, head down.
“And the baby? Is it mine?” he asks shaking his fist that drips with blood. My mouth hangs open a little, wondering how the hell he knows.
“I haven’t done the test yet,” I choke out, shaking my head and clenching my eyes shut. “How do you know?”
“Brax overheard you talking to Izzy, or some shit.”
“I had no idea,” I blurt out. Standing facing him, my entire body shakes uncontrollably as I stare at him, waiting for him to say something. Pain crushes my airways as the few seconds feel like hours. “I have the test in my purse.”
Reaching his hand to the back of my head, he slowly draws me into him, my head landing on his chest.
“You should’ve told me about my father. Would’ve put a bullet in his skull for you, no matter what the consequences.”
Wrapping his strong arms around me, he holds me for the longest time.
“We’ll get through this, Tara,” he sighs, pulling back and lifting my head until our eyes meet. “I’m going to kill him, make him suffer for what he’s done to you.”
“But what about us, Nate? I can’t lose you.”
“I ain’t going nowhere,” he whispers. “But I need to know...” He caresses his hand against my back. “We both need to know if you’re pregnant.” He pulls back searching my eyes. I nod, agreeing, terrified at the possibility.
Grabbing my purse, I take out the pregnancy test and point to the door. “Can’t use the one you just trashed so I’m using the main one.”
He nods, wrapping a cloth around his knuckles. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Shuddering I make my way down the hall and into the large, main bathroom. I walk inside, closing the door behind me, all the while clutching the box with the test tightly in my hand. I make my way over to the toilet, pulling out a test and precariously squatting so I can pee on the stick. My stomach whirls as the nerves eat away at me. I replace the cap on the test and set it down on the tiled floor. Pulling up my panties, I grab the box, checking how long I need to wait before checking the results.
Three minutes until I can read the results, but I’m too scared to check. Getting pregnant was never part of the plan. Reaching for the test, I place it on my lap, while I wait anxiously. I tap my knee as I hope and pray for a negative result.
Turning over the test, I brave a look at it. Two clear blue lines appear, and I begin to shake, the test falling to the floor.
This isn’t right.
I can’t be… I can’t be pregnant.
Stunned, I stumble out of the bathroom, making my way back to Nate. I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to him. My heart hammers in my chest as I slowly creep inside.
“Well?” he asks, rushing over to me, his eyes searching mine for the answer. My head starts to spin, and I suddenly feel so dizzy that I make my way over to the bed dropping my ass onto the edge. I can’t look at him, knowing I’m pregnant but unable to give him the answers he wants to hear. My chest tightens as I try to say something. Anything.
“Tara,” he whispers, his gravelly voice barely audible. He squats in front of me, moving his head until I have no option but to look at him. I place my hand on my head, trying to control my emotions and hold my shit together.
“It’s positive.” I croak out the words I can barely believe myself.
His eyes fall to my stomach and he reaches around the back of my head, pulling our heads together until they meet. “This is mine, you get me?”
“But what if it isn’t…?” But he doesn’t give me a chance to finish.
“No what-ifs. You’re pregnant and it’s mine. No one else's, understand?” he asks, his hand touching my cheek gently, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
No longer able to fight back the tears, I let them fall freely over my face at the meaning of his question.
“Hey. Shhh…”
Swiping the tears away, he places his lips against mine. “What happened doesn’t make me want you any less, but it hurts. It fucking kills me to know my own father put you through that. I can’t change what happened that night but what I can change is what happens from here on out.” His voice is thick with emotion and I know he means it. Holding me tightly, I feel safe, despite what I’ve been through. The pregnancy is a complete shock, and I’m not even sure bringing a child into this world would be the right thing to do. I need time to wrap my head around the news and process it fully. After all, there’s a chance this baby isn’t Nate’s. And I’m not sure it’s something I can just ignore.
The buzzer for the main gate rings through the house and Nate parts from me to answer it. “Shit,” he grates out, stepping up and making his way down the stairs. I follow closely behind him.
“Yeah,” he says into the receiver. “Sure, man,” I hear him say, pressing the buzzer and allowing whoever it is access.
“Delivery,” he says with a lift of his shoulders, heading over to the door and out front. The delivery driver holds a large box in his hand, offering it to Nate.
“Sign here, please.” The guy shoves a clipboard towards him, indicating in the box. Nate scribbles his signature before turning toward me, offering me the box.
“Must be for you. I didn’t order anything.”
Taking it from him, I almost gasp at the weight of the box. I think back to what I ordered during the renovations, but I can’t think of anything.
“Strange,” I say, heading into the main living room, dropping it with a thud on the coffee table. “Can I have your knife?” I ask, holding out my hand. He reaches to the holster that hangs against his thigh, drawing out the knife and slicing it over the tape that seals the box.
“Thanks,” I say, offering him a smile. He nods, his eyes twinkling as he does. I tug on the box, opening it and removing another layer of cardboard. I glance into the box, bile rising into my mouth instantly as I let out a screech. Doubling over, I vomit all over the wooden floor.
It’s Emily.
Her head, her hands and her feet.
“What the fuck?” Nate grabs the box, peering inside. “Oh no, Jesus, no fucking way.” I hear him gag and I glance up to see a tear slip across his cheek.
“How could he?” I cry, unable to look at the box, taking one deep breath after another. I try to remain on my feet, but I just can’t. I collapse to the floor as a sob escapes me, the pain in my chest almost too much to take.
“I’m going to find him, Tara. I’m gonna gut the sick motherfucker for what he’s done. That’s a promise. I’m not going to stop until that motherfucker is dead.”
To be continued...
The scars of you - Excerpt
If you haven’t already, I would recommend that you read the first books in this series. It isn’t necessary, but may help you with the sub-characters back story.
“Come on, Trav,” I call over my shoulder, as my feet pound against the crisp grass under my sneakers. “I don’t think this is a very good idea,” he stutters through his labored breaths. Travis is my best friend, and had been since last summer when he moved in next door. He came at the right time. Just when I needed a friend the most. “My mom is going to wonder where we are. We shouldn’t have strayed from the yard.”
“Quit your whining,” I yell at him as I stand in front of the huge oak tree. “It’s this one,” I point up to the biggest, most beautiful tree I’ve ever seen. I stare at the base, noticing some carvings on the side of the trunk. The initials ‘I G’ carved over and over.
“I’m not doing it,” he replies sullenly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Pussy,” I taunt with a lift of my brow. “Am not.”
“You so are, Trav. I don’t care whether you are coming or not anyway, because once I get to the top of that tree I’m going to be able to see for miles. I bet I can even see the fair from here.”
I lift my eyebrows in an attempt to draw him in, but he stares back at me, his arms still crossed firmly over his chest. “You know your mom isn’t going to take you to the fair. Ever. I’m not sure why you want to torture yourself by looking at the stupid thing.”
“It’s not just the fair, it’s everything else. The view is going to be amazing from up here,” I say, reaching for one of the small branches, pulling up, until my foot is resting on it.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. He’s doing it, he’s really doing it,” Travis mumbles to himself, pushing his hand through his light-brown hair dramatically. I shake my head, reaching up for the next branch, pulling myself up a little more.
“Braxton,” he calls. “You have to get down,” he shouts, his voice wavering. I look over my shoulders and half of his face is covered with his hands. He peeks at me through the small gap in-between his fingers. I laugh, continuing to make my way up through the branches, aiming for that huge one near to the top.
“What are you two doing?” I hear an unfamiliar voice calling, and although it’s loud, I’m pretty sure it’s the sweetest sounding voice I’ve ever heard. My belly flips and for a second I hold my breath, my whole body tensing at the sound of the unaccustomed voice.
I look down sharply to see where that voice came from, releasing the breath I’d been holding. All I can see is a girl with blonde hair, standing next to Travis. She has the whitest-blonde hair I’ve ever seen. And she looks beautiful. Even from up here.
“What the hell do you want?” I call back down to her, unable to stop myself.
“I want you to get down from my tree,” she yells at me, stamping her foot against the ground.
“It is not your tree. It belongs to nature, so it’s everyone’s tree.”
“It’s my tree; It has my name on it.”
I nod a little, remembering the initials etched into the tree trunk. “Just because you write your name on something, doesn’t mean it’s actually yours.” I push myself further onto the thick branch, allowing my legs to swing below me.
“You know that’s not safe, right?” she asks, pointing up at me. “It’s perfectly safe.” “No, it’s not,” she tuts, “this is a really old tree. Those branches may look big, but they could break at any time.” “So?” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “What do you care?” I continue to swing my legs. One after the other. With every movement, the old tree creaks.
“I care a lot, actually,” she says, kicking her hip out in some kind of sassy girl move. “This tree is where I hang out most days. See that house there?” She turns to her right, pointing to a house a little way in the distance. “Well, I live there, and this tree kinda belongs to us.”
“Why would you say that? That’s a stupid thing to say,” I laugh a little louder than intended.
“The only thing that is stupid is you climbing that damn tree.”
I swing my leg one last time as my fingers pick away at the few leaves on the adjoining branch. I pluck them one by one, dropping them to the ground.
“Don’t do that,” she yells. “Stop ruining the tree.”
“Make me,” I say, reaching for that one leaf just a little too far away. I stretch, but can’t reach it. I lean a little onto my side, desperately trying to grab the damn leaf, but the creaking becomes a cracking sound, and before I can try to understand what is happen‐ ing, I’m falling.
Thud.
My leg hits the ground before my body does. The sound of cracking falls my senses and despite my best attempts, I can’t move.
I can hear voices and see the faces of the girl and Travis, but the buzzing in my ears stops me from focusing on the words that are tumbling from their mouths. I let out a groan, my whole body aching and confusion buzzes through my mind. But the pain in my leg is the worst. I let out a yelp as I drop my head back, closing my eyes. “Braxton, oh my God, are you okay?” He leans over, pulling on my shirt. I open my eyes, focusing on his face. It’s contorted, his nose scrunched up as his face hovers over mine.
“My leg, Trav,” I cry out, not daring to move at all. “I think I’ve broken my leg.”
“What should I do? I don’t know what to do.” The panic is evident in his voice.
“Don’t freak out,” the girl soothes Travis, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I will stay here with, uh, him...”
“My name is Braxton. Got it?” I grate out, a little nastier than I’d intended.
“Okay, okay,” she replies as she walks around kneeling beside me. “I will stay here, you go tell his parents.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” he fumbles, before jumping to his feet and running across the eld, making his way home. My eyes follow him as he runs faster than I’ve ever seen him run before.
“Look at me,” she places her warm hand against the cool skin of my cheek, turning my head until I’m facing her. “I got you. Okay?”
“How bad is it?” I as
k, not daring to look at the mess my leg must be in.
“Broken,” she mutters, shooting me a sad smile. “It’s best not to look.”
“I don’t feel too good,” I say, resting my forearm over my eyes.
“You’re okay, it’s just the shock. Keep talking to me. Tell me about yourself,” she asks, her hand now working in a circular motion against my chest.
“I like to climb trees,” I say sarcastically.
“And you don’t listen, that much I do know about you. I mean, you broke my beautiful tree.”
“Your beautiful tree broke my leg,” I retort. “I have no idea who you are, or what your name is,” I say with a grimace. The pain increasing with every second.
“My name is Isabelle, but most people call me Belle, or Bella,” she looks directly at me with her huge blue eyes, her long blonde hair cascading down the side of her face. She has a smile on her face, the kind that makes my belly ip over and over.
“I like Izzy,” I say a little breathlessly, my breathing becoming more erratic as the pain grows.
“Uh oh. No you don’t. I hate that. It’s Belle or Bella. Take your pick.”
“Sure, Izzy, no problem.” I let out a stifled laugh. She playfully slaps the top of my arm.
“Ouch,” I say with a pout. “Talk about kicking me while I’m down.”
“I did warn you. Are you always this stubborn?”
“Always,” I say, sticking out my tongue at her. This girl is bossy, annoying and I already know I’m going to hate her. Jeez, who am I kidding? She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. The kind that stands out in a crowd. Yeah, that’s right. I’m going to love to hate this girl.
And that’s exactly what I did for the next eight years.
For eight years we were best friends. Completely and utterly inseparable. There wasn’t a day that passed by where I didn’t see her. Where we weren’t hanging out.
We were like the three amigos, only better. Until she disappeared. Gone. And no one would give me any answers. That was the moment my life changed forever. The moment when I felt like I lost my reason for living. Losing her was the catalyst for the rest of the shit that happened to me. And that shit made me the person I am today.
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