The scars of you (The scars series Book 1)

by Rachael Tonks

“Brax,” he says slimily. “I see you brought me the gorgeous Tara,” he steps out from behind the bar, making his way closer to her. He takes her free hand, lifting it and pressing his lips against the back of her hand. His eyes drift to our intertwined fingers and I see him lift his brows.

  “The fuck…” he says, dropping her hand and glaring at Carter. “I thought you said she wasn’t involved with anyone?” Jeffries mumbles.

  Carter shakes his head; his eyes darken and land heavily on me.

  “A word. Alone.” He storms away from the group and I have no choice but to follow. “What the fuck are you doing?” he whisper-shouts.

  “I’m doing what you should be doing… protecting her!”

  “You think I’d let someone hurt her? Are you fucking kidding me?” he says, pushing his hand through his dark hair. “I’m trying to keep the peace by giving them a little of what they want, but I would never sacrifice her safety. She’s family.”

  “She’s here with me, anyway,” I say, pushing my hands into my jean pockets.

  “With you?” He asks with narrowed eyes. “What, like really?”

  “Let’s not confuse things here. I like her, she’s a nice girl. Nothing more, nothing less,” I answer honestly, not wanting to give too much away.

  A slow smile creeps across his face as he rests his arm across my shoulder, pulling me closer, whispering into my ear. “Let’s just play the game for now, keep those motherfuckers happy. Once the deal is done tomorrow and we give them what they want, we can put some distance between them.”

  “One wrong move and I’ll rip that cocksucker a new asshole. Got it?”

  “Oh,” he squeezes my shoulder playfully. “It must be love.” He lets out a bellowing laugh.

  “Screw you, Carter,” I snarl, shaking my head as I make my way back to Tara. I search her face to find some sign that she’s okay. Lifting her glass a little, she shoots me a sweet smile. I pick up my speed, snatching the glass from her hand. Leaning as close to her ear as possible, I lower my voice, “It might be spiked. If it doesn’t come from me, you don’t drink it. Got it?” I feel her head move against mine. “We need to be careful. Really careful,” I say exhaling a pent-up breath.

  My eyes never leave the bastard for a second. Tara plays a good game, laughing at his jokes and being flirty in all the right places.

  “So, you ready for tomorrow’s deal?” Bobby asks, slapping me heavily on the back.

  “It’s been coming for a long time,” I say with a nod of determination.

  “We’ll be with you the whole time, man.”

  “I appreciate it,” I say, interrupted by the sound of my cell phone ringing. I look up at Carter who is still deep in conversation. Pulling out the phone, I answer, caller unknown.

  “Hello,” I answer warily.

  “Brax, it’s Jessica.”

  “I thought I told you never to fucking bother me again,” I say, pulling the phone from my ear, ready to disconnect the call.

  “Wait!” she shouts down the receiver.

  “What?” I growl, “What do you want that is so goddamn important?”

  “I have something you want.”

  “I doubt that very much,” I say, stepping away from the guys and back into the house.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she replies with a smug tone to her voice.

  “Quit your shit, Jessica. If you got something to say, just fucking say it already.”

  “I know where she is… I know who has Isabelle.”

  I slowly pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it blankly. Is this some kind of sick joke?

  “You’re sick, Jess. You need to get some fucking help.” I end the call and push the phone back in my pocket.

  “Are you okay?” Tara asks, her hand lands gently on my arm.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I shoot her a sad smile.

  “You’re going?” Carter asks, catching me by surprise.

  “Yeah, man. I need to get my head in the game for tomorrow’s meeting. The boys will come get me at 10am, right?”

  “Yeah. He’s expecting you at 11am sharp.”

  I nod, holding out my hand to him, pulling him in for a quick man hug.

  “Don’t let me down, man. This whole thing should run like clockwork.”

  “Should,” I repeat with a lift of my brow.

  “Sir requires you to wear this and join him this morning. He has guests and requires your attendance.”

  “No,” I murmur, my hand covering my mouth as I stifle a cry. “I can’t,” I say, shaking my head from side to side.

  “You have to, Isabelle,” he says widening his eyes. Holding out the dress, I step forward, taking it from his hand. “He could be watching,” he whispers, giving me a knowing look.

  “Got it,” I say, shooting him a quick smile.

  “I’m sure it will be okay. Just remember the rules, Isabelle.”

  I grimace, the memories from last time fresh in my mind.

  “Be ready in fifteen minutes. Sir will be along to collect you.”

  He turns on his heel, marching out of the room. The Harlan I spent time with yesterday is a distant memory as he returns to his normal self. The threat of Sir lingers in both our minds. I jog over to the bathroom, sliding off my clothes and pull on the figure-hugging, white dress. It’s an off-the-shoulder dress that hugs all my curves. I examine myself in the mirror and can’t help but feel that this is more of an evening gown. Quickly, I apply the make-up, paying meticulous attention to cover the scratches and bruises on my face. Jazz had shown me which of the concealers were best to use.

  I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. The thud of my heart is the only sound that fills the room. The initials on my chest are on show, and I can’t help but think that’s why he chose this dress. To tell whoever he has visiting that I’m his. The sick feeling hits me in the gut; the thought of no longer having my own identity but being classed as someone’s possession.

  A knock on the door startles me.

  “Isabelle,” he calls to me. I let out a controlled breath, stepping slowing, putting one unsteady foot in front of the other as I emerge from the bathroom.

  “Here,” I answer his call pleasantly, his eyes widening as soon as he sees me standing in the doorway.

  “Well isn’t that just the most perfect dress,” his voice trails off, his eyes raking over my body like a predator focused on consuming its prey. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to concentrate at my meeting with you looking good enough to eat.” Goosebumps cover my skin. I smile disingenuously as I try to avoid another dose of punishment.

  “It really is a beautiful dress,” I agree. I try to control my voice, appearing stronger than I know I am.

  “So glad to see your marker on show.” He runs his finger across the painful scar and I can’t help but suck in a deep breath as I try not to cry out in pain.

  “Does it hurt, Isabelle?” he asks with a tone of amusement.

  Bastard.

  “It’s just a little sore,” I reply firmly.

  “I’m sorry I had to do that. You understand though, don’t you, angel?” he cups the side of my face lovingly, and I’m a little taken back by the gentleness in his touch.

  I nod just to appease him, leaning into the warmth of his touch. Maybe if I can get him to show me more of this side of him, things won’t seem so bleak.

  “You worried me…” I say, my eyes connecting with his dark ones. “You haven’t been to see me in days.”

  “I needed to be away from you, Isabelle. I can’t control the ravenous need to consume you when I’m here with you. I needed you to heal, to be back to full strength for today.”

  “I’m honored you want me by your side. I won’t let you down this time.”

  He looks at me with narrowed eyes, his brows drawn together. “I’m counting on it. There’s a lot at stake today,” he says with a loose shake of his head. Leaning in, his mouth resting against my ear, he whispers, “and if you are a good girl, I wi
ll show you the pleasure room.”

  I want to scream out, tell him that I don’t want to go in there, to have his vile body anywhere near me. But I can’t. I have to hold it together and pretend that this is okay.

  “I’d really like that,” I lie.

  “But…” he pauses, his hand sliding from the side of my face, landing heavily on the back of my neck. “Let me down and there will be no pleasure room. Just pain. Not everyone makes it out of the pain room, Isabelle,” he snarls, an evil warning to his tone.

  I tremble as he squeezes tighter and tighter, my shoulders rising as I try to cope with the immeasurable pain. His hold is tight. Way too tight. I feel my vision haze as I struggle to cope with the pain. I start to count in my mind, hoping that he will let go.

  “Please…” I strain for my voice to be heard.

  “Let this be your only warning,” he says, releasing me with a thrust. I stumble backward, clasping my hand where his had been on my neck.

  “I understand,” I croak, followed by a cough as I try to clear the dryness from my throat.

  “Good, now follow me.” He barks his order at me, walking toward the door. I race to grab my shoes, pushing them on as I hastily stumble toward the door.

  “Sorry,” I say as he glares at me, waiting with the door open.

  “This is a big deal, Isabelle. Don’t ask questions. Don’t speak unless I give you permission to do so.”

  “I understand,” I say with a firm nod of my head.

  Walking beside him, we make our way to his meeting room. The room contains one oversized desk; a throne like chair is located to the center of the table.

  “I will sit here,” he points to the chair that looks more like something you’d expect royalty to be sitting on. “You, my lady, you will be standing beside me. My four men will be by my other side the whole time.”

  “And Harlan? Will he be here with you today?”

  “Of course. He will be by the door, making sure that no one leaves until we are completely satisfied.”

  I stand beside this man, nervous that I have no idea what is about to happen here. Something deep inside my gut tells me I should be worried. That something terrible is just around the corner.

  I stand outside the house, taking a huge drag of my cigarette, hoping the nicotine will calm my nerves. This deal isn’t new to me. I’ve made plenty of deals, but each one runs its own risk. And the risk today is not knowing the guy we are dealing with.

  I look at the guys standing behind me, ready to go and meet this motherfucking drug supplier. I hold the briefcase full of money in my hand. The rest of the guys haul the huge crates, ready to make our way inside.

  “Fuck, just look at this place,” Bobby gushes. “Good job Carter ain’t here. He’d be so fucking jealous.” I chuckle, looking at the enormous house set back on acres upon acres of land.

  “Motherfucker can’t be that clever, doing a deal at his house. Not exactly the smartest move,” I say, dropping the cigarette and crushing it with the tip of my boot.

  “Guys,” I call to them, waving for them to gather round. They all rush until we are standing in a circle, our heads close together, my voice lowered. “I’ve never met this guy. We’ve never dealt with him before, so be on high alert. You see anything that looks remotely suspicious and we are out of there. Got it?”

  “Sure,” the voices all talk at once, eyes wide, heads nodding in agreement.

  “Something about this place makes me feel uneasy,” Nico blurts out. “Like it might be haunted or some shit,” he continues.

  “I’m not talking about the heebie-fucking-jeebies, Nico,” I reply, annoyance lacing my tone. “I’m talking genuine reasons why we should get the fuck outta there.”

  “I’m telling you…”

  “Let’s just get in there,” I say cutting him off.

  I storm toward the huge front door, three times the size of a normal door.

  I rap my knuckles on the door, waiting for someone to answer. I let my hand drop to my waistband, reassuring myself that my gun is with me. I let out a controlled breath as I impatiently wait for a reply. I look over my shoulders to the guys standing right behind me.

  “Eyes and ears open, guys,” I say with a nod. They nod and mumble in agreement.

  I tense and relax my free hand, ready to knock the fucking shit out of this door. Surely these motherfuckers were expecting us.

  “What the fuck is taking so long?” Anthony says with a huge sigh.

  “Cocksuckers should be ready for us,” chimes in Felix, the guys’ grumbles all merging into one.

  I raise my painfully clenched fist, ready to knock on this door again. Before my knuckles make contact, the door swings open and a light-haired guy appears in my view. He has a hardened expression, his head lifts a little, as though he’s trying to intimidate me.

  Fucker has got me all wrong. I’m not easily intimidated and I look him straight in the eye.

  “Braxton,” he says lifting a brow and holding out his hand to me. I step forward and shake it.

  “That’s right.”

  “We have been expecting you, Sir is waiting,” he replies, dropping his hand.

  “Well, you kept us waiting long enough,” I snarl, looking over at the guys stifling a laugh. “Sir,” I mock, “Why the fuck don’t you call him by his name?”

  He leans forward, his face closing in on mine. “It’s called respect, maybe you should fucking learn some.”

  “Get the fuck out of my face.” I warn him, my hand slowly moving and finding the handle of my gun. I glare at him. Hard.

  “He ain’t joking man, back the fuck up.” I hear the voices from behind me.

  “We got business to attend to,” he says stiffly, turning on his heel as he steps back inside the house.

  I turn and look at the guys in stunned confusion, loosely shaking my head from side to side.

  “Well, that was fucking weird. I told you I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Nico says into my ear, his hand squeezing my shoulder.

  “Carter says all is good with this guy, and I have to hope he’s done his fucking research.” I reply, watching the guy walking down the huge corridor. Keeping my eyes glued to the weird motherfucker, we follow him. I jerk a little, the sound of the door slamming closed behind us.

  “Fuck,” I say, spinning on the spot as the door bolts behind us.

  “How the fuck…” Felix mumbles, and I can’t help but think the same. The door has slammed shut and bolted itself and I can’t help but notice the scanner at the side of the door. What the hell is this place?

  I charge forward, my eyes scanning around the expansive house, as I follow the strange guy that answered the door. We pass an impressive staircase and walk further into this maze of a house.

  “Nice place,” I shout to the guy in front of me. He turns his head, his angry eyes landing on mine. “I don’t believe you introduced yourself,” I continue, storming forward until I’m on his heel. He stops dead in his tracks, turning and facing me.

  “My name is of no importance to you.”

  I chuckle to myself. “Listen, asshole, I’m here to do business. So, get off your high horse.”

  “Alvrez is in here. I’d drop the fucking attitude or your business isn’t going to happen.”

  He steps forward to the set of double doors just a few feet in front. He reaches out, pushing open both of them. I glance over to the guys, instructing them to be by my side. Bobby and Felix stand either side of me and the other guys remain behind us.

  With a nod, the guy moves out of the way and we slowly enter the room, the smell of cigars filling my nostrils. I look up at the greasy looking guy sitting behind the office desk, my eyes landing on the girl standing in the white dress beside him.

  I feel the muscles in my neck tighten and my body stiffens as I try to comprehend what the fuck is happening here.

  Holy fucking shit.

  A sharp pain ricochets through my chest and I can barely breathe.

 
; Six fucking years my heart has ached for this girl. And here she is. Standing in front of me and I have no fucking idea how to react. Her eyes stare at the floor and I’m not sure that she has even seen me. Would she recognize me as a man and no longer a young boy?

  “Come in, guys,” Alvrez summons with a wave. I swallow down the sick that burns the back of my throat. He stands up from his desk, taking a huge drag of his cigar, and blowing the smoke out in front of him. “Carter has told me so much about you, Braxton. It’s good to finally meet you.”

  Her eyes lift from the floor and land on me. A look of realization crosses her beautiful face. Oh my God, her face is so fucking beautiful.

  Her eyes bug out as she takes me in. Her eyes slowly roam the full length of my body. I can’t help but focus on the terrified look on her face. I have to do something, I just don’t know what. I want to jump over the goddam desk and pull her into my arms but being rash could cost us both our lives.

  I feel like someone has knocked the wind from my lungs, and suddenly my mind is no longer on this deal, but totally consumed with Isabelle and how the fuck I’m gonna get out of here with her.

  Alive.

  I clear my throat and walk up to him, my eyes flitting to her standing by his side as my heart hammers in my chest. I hear the footsteps beside me and I look up at Bobby, giving him a look. He narrows his eyes on me, a look of confusion on his face.

  I turn my attention back to Alvrez, taking his hand and shaking. “Let’s get down to business,” I say with a nod.

  “Please,” he points to the chair. “Take a seat.”

  “I’ll stay standing, if it’s all the same.”

  He glares at me, the skin around his eyes creasing as he realizes something isn’t right here.

  “What exactly is the problem?” he says with a flick of his head. I reach inside my waist band, drawing out my gun and pointing it directly at his head. Gasps fill the room but his face never falters.

  “Big fucking mistake,” he says with a chuckle. “You think you can walk in here, in my fucking home and screw me over? Think again…”

  “This isn’t about the drugs, or the fucking money,” I roar. “This is about the girl.” I inform him with a nod, my eyes flitting to her, then back at him.