by B M Griffin
COPYRIGHT
Loving Her Scars is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LOVING HER SCARS: A NOVEL
Copyright © 2019 by B. M. Griffin
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by KP Designs
Published by Kingston Publishing Company
The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
EXTRAS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my two amazing daughters. They are my why and because of them I have pursued this thing, this dream, that makes me happier than any mundane career ever could.
PROLOGUE
Shayla
“Eric, please, I love you. I … I am not gonna leave.”
Shayla stuttered, struggling to get the words out passed her busted lip. The fear that he wasn’t done didn’t help matters either. Eric had always been a bit controlling and insecure like he never believed she loved him despite her choosing to stay with him through every fight, every black eye, and every apology. This time was different. He’d hit her before, sure, but he usually stopped once he saw her face begin to swell. Not this time. She’d been folding clothes when he got home. Okay, maybe not just folding them. Adam had been by earlier and saw the remains of an old bruise on the corner of her mouth. He’d begged her to leave with him. Begged her to choose herself over Eric, but she’d told him to go. Still, his plea had an impact on her and she’d laid a suitcase out on the bed and grabbed a couple of pieces of clothes from her dresser. She’d sat there staring at that stupid suitcase forever, never able to build up the courage to actually put the clothes inside the thing.
That was how Eric found her when he came home. With an open suitcase on their bed, her clothes folded neatly next to it, while she stared into the thing like it was going to somehow give her all the answers to life. She barely had time to turn around and face him before he backhanded her, busting her lip, and shoved her back into her dresser. She doubled over gripping her stomach, tears springing forth from the pain.
“Eric, please…” was all she got out before the next blow.
Eric’s knee connected with her chin so hard she heard a crack and the slicing pain that shot through her face told her that something had to be broken. Eric turned around and she tried to back away.
“You think you can just leave me!” he yelled. “No one will ever love you like I do, you ungrateful bitch!”
He rushed her, his hands going around her throat. Shayla scratched him, tore at his hands, but he was just too strong. Just before she thought she would pass out from the lack of oxygen he threw her into the dresser again. This time the impact was so hard the mirror that they’d never gotten around to properly attaching to the thing fell, glass busting everywhere.
“Eric, please, I love you.” The words were barely a whisper. Talking was almost impossible as she grasped her throat, trying to relieve the pain.
The next few minutes were a blur of fear and excruciating pain. She saw Eric’s eyes fall to the floor where the shards of glass were, then he was picking up a larger, jagged piece of glass. Shayla’s eyes grew wide.
“Eric, what?”
He rushed her, the glass held high in his hand, and then it was ripping through Shayla’s skin, ripping her face, the pain agonizing as warm blood covered her left eye. A scream tore from her throat, but Eric didn’t stop. He used his free hand to hold her in place by her throat as he tore through her flesh.
“Now no one else will want you. I’m all you’ve got, Shayla. All you’re ever gonna have.”
His grip on her neck continued to tighten until Shayla’s oxygen was shut off. She closed her eyes trying to fight off the pain; trying to collect her thoughts, but the pain was all too much and she soon found herself drifting into deep darkness and the pain finally began to fade away.
CHAPTER ONE
Adam
“No! Eric, please don’t. Please!”
“Shayla, Shayla, wake up.” Adam ran his hands up and down Shayla’s arms gently not wanting to scare her; desperately wanting to wake her from the nightmare which had her sobbing and begging for her life.
“No! Please, I’m sorry!”
Adam squeezed his eyes shut. God, he wanted to hunt that bastard down and rip him limb from limb for what he’d done to Shayla. Fortunately, Eric was in prison, a fact that made getting to him especially difficult. Adam inhaled deeply and exhaled, as he tried to release the anger that washed over him every time Shayla’s past came back to haunt her. She needed him calm right now because she wouldn’t be.
He sat back against the headboard and pulled her into his arms. He needed to wake her from the nightmare she was reliving, but he had to be gentle with her. Adam had learned the hard way not to shake her awake when the nightmares came. When they first started living together, after everything went down with Eric, he had made this mistake. The terror, which filled her eyes when they flew open, still made his heart shatter into a million pieces. He couldn’t live with the thought of her being afraid of him. She had been afraid far too long while with Eric, and Adam intended to never cause her to experience another single moment of fear.
He’d decided, that day, to never tell her about his true identity. If she knew the only man she still trusted had become a werewolf, she would run, and never look back. The thought of losing her was torture. She was his best friend and he loved her with his entire being. Of course, his love was romantic; which was not reciprocated. He had loved her since they were twelve-years-old when Shayla’s family moved in next door to his. He was quickly placed in the inescapable friend zone. Now he was a werewolf and he was completely screwed. If they were ever together in all the ways he dreamed she would become like him, and he was certain that Shayla wouldn’t be able to forgive him. Hell, how could he blame her? She’d been permanently scarred in more ways than one, by Eric, a monster in his own right. If she knew Adam was an actual monster she’d run and never look back. So, he’d just have to be content as her best friend. At least he was able to spend most of his time with her, since he'd convinced her to be his roommate, so he would always be able to take care of her. He would never let anyone hurt her again.
Adam gently brushed the hair back from Shayla’s sweat covered forehead and placed a soft kiss on the scar running down the left side of her face--Eric’s last gift to her before he w
as put away. It had taken him nearly killing Shayla for her to admit to the police he was hurting her. Sometimes, Adam wondered if he hadn’t found her and called 911, if she would have said anything even then. He’d never understood how she could love someone who clearly only took pleasure from her pain. It was like Eric had bewitched her somehow.
Shayla’s eyes finally opened, her pupils like giant orbs overtaking her warm brown eyes, and her beautiful chestnut hair matted to her head. Tears pooled at their corners and when she blinked, they spilled over and down her cheeks.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Adam whispered softly, then kissed her forehead. Shayla shut her eyes again briefly, letting the real world settle over her and wash away the nightmare, or memories to be more accurate. Adam waited patiently for her to clear the fog of the nightmare from her mind.
“Thanks,” Shayla’s voice was barely a whisper, but he would have heard her even if she was all the way across the room.
“You know you don’t have to thank me.” He smiled down at her and cupped her cheek in his palm. “What are friends for?”
Shayla turned her face into his chest and inhaled. Adam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think about anything to distract him from her body pressing against his own. He should be used to this; she always took comfort in him when the nightmares happened, but he was just as affected by her now, as he had been the first time. When she inhaled his scent, it spoke to the animal inside of him; it made the inner wolf stir.
“What time is it?” Shayla looked up at him. Her eyes were back to normal; her beautiful browns staring up at him. He could hear her heart slowing, going back to normal, as she snuggled in closer to his chest.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s six in the morning.”
“Ugh,” she groaned, and Adam smiled. Her annoyance at being awake so early was a good sign.
“If you want to go back to sleep for a while, I’ll wake you up in time to get ready for work.”
“No.” Shayla was up and wiggled her way out of his arms. Adam tried to suppress the disappointment that washed through him. “I’m up. If I go back to sleep, I’ll be worse off than if I just stay up. I’m going to make us breakfast.”
Adam wrapped his arms around his stomach protectively and cringed.
“Oh, shut your mouth, Adam James Huff! I can fry a freakin' egg. It isn’t like it’s rocket science.”
Adam held up his hands as he got out of bed. He had to beat her to the kitchen. He loved her, he really did, but Shayla couldn’t cook…anything. The last time she attempted to make boxed macaroni and cheese, she burned the shells so bad the smoke alarm went off. Afterward, they had to put the pot in its final resting place. “How about a compromise? I’ll save the house from being burnt to the ground by making our breakfast, and you can save the world from your wrath by making a pot of coffee. It’s a win, win.”
Shayla folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. He knew that glare, if he wanted to make it unscathed through the rest of the morning, he better get out of her arms’ reach, and fast. He winked at her, leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her cheek, backed away, and ran for the kitchen before she had the chance to react.
****
Shayla
Shayla stared in the mirror at the dark circles under her eyes. She was so sick of the fucking nightmares. Eric made her weak for years, and every time she relived the beatings in her sleep, it was like he was taking away her power all over again. If it wasn’t for Adam, she didn’t know what she would do. Besides Adam, she only had one other person she would call a friend, and Megan didn’t know half of what had gone down with Eric. Adam was the only person besides herself, who knew the full story.
Bending down, Shayla splashed water on her face in an attempt to pull herself out of her own head. She ran a brush through her hair and put on some eyeliner and mascara. Despite waking up earlier than necessary, she wasn’t about to spend any more time on her appearance. Shayla pursed her lips at her reflection, looking at the deep scar running down the side of her face. Hell, the light eye makeup was more than she needed; nobody ever noticed anyway. The scar always stole the show. What she would give to be like most girls complaining about guys who couldn’t seem to look at anything above their chest. Even the creepers got caught in the ugliness of her gashed face; except for Adam. Shayla allowed a small smile to grace her face for a moment, as she thought about Adam and the way he looked at her. He looked at her like she was important, special, and loved; he looked at her like the scar didn’t exist at all. If only it could have been Adam she’d fallen for when they were younger instead of Eric. Now, it would never be an option, not when Adam could do so much better than a scarred and broken crazy person. Nope. Honestly, he was gorgeous inside and out. He was tall, and tan with the kind of abs most models had to use photoshop to get, and his eyes-- damn, he had the most transfixing blue eyes she’d ever seen on anyone. Sometimes she could swear they were glowing when he looked at her, but since that wasn’t possible she just chocked it up to the light reflecting off them in strange ways. Sighing, Shayla forced her thoughts away from how much she loved looking into those eyes. They were just friends, but that was okay. Adam was a great friend. She just prayed he never realized he held all the cards in their friendship, and decided she wasn’t worth the trouble or all the sleepless nights.
“Hey, woman! You better come eat this omelet before I do.”
Shayla smiled. It was like Adam always knew just when she needed a distraction. “You better not!” she called back to him, as she headed down the hall toward the kitchen. When she walked around the corner, Adam was standing over her plate at the center island, a large bite of her omelet on a fork about to be delivered to his mouth. Shayla planted her hands on her hips and gave him her best stink eye. “You know, no one at work can tolerate me when I’m hungry and un-caffeinated. So, you really want to explain to everyone how it is your fault when I’m so bitchy today?”
Adam grunted, but he put the fork back down. “I was just playing, babe. No need for threats.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the way; Adam walked away laughing. Yup. She was beyond lucky to have him.
CHAPTER TWO
Shayla
Shayla made it to work early, which gave her time to prepare for a morning meeting she had to attend. Shayla and Megan were presenting a new marketing strategy to a potential client, and the extra time would allow her to get focused and ready to make the deal. Megan was the face of their dynamic duo, so to speak. She was the one who did most of the speaking during their presentations, while Shayla was the artist behind the work. They made a great team, always coming up with exciting ideas. This kept the new clients coming and made them lead reps for West End Marketing & Management. They would be presenting their idea to Hall Global Inc. this morning, who could potentially be their biggest clients yet. Shayla wasn’t going to let anything stand in their way of landing the contract.
Shayla’s phone buzzed on her desk and she was surprised to see it was Megan calling her. Dread took her body over as she lifted the phone to answer the call. She just knew that whatever Megan was calling her for, it wasn’t good. “Hello.”
“Shayla,” Megan’s voice was low and scratchy. Shit! “I can’t make the meeting for the pitch.” Megan’s voice was cut off and replaced by the hacking of a violent coughing fit. “I’m so sorry.”
Well, shit. Megan was about to cough up a lung, yet believed that she needed to apologize to Shayla for missing a meeting. “No, it’s fine. It’ll be fine. You just get better.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, but Shayla knew Megan hadn’t hung up. She could still hear the heavy labored breathing. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between her finger and thumb. Shayla knew exactly why Megan was apologizing. She didn’t think Shayla would be able to stand up in front of everyone and run through their pitch; Shayla didn’t blame her. “Maybe we can reschedule,” Megan finally spoke again. “They m
ight understand. I mean, everyone gets sick, right?”
Shayla took a deep breath. It had been five years. Five years of her hiding behind Megan at work, and just hiding in general. Five years since Eric nearly killed her, leaving an angry scar down her face ensuring she never forgot that night. “No,” she said.
“No?” Megan sounded confused.
“Right. No,” Shayla repeated. “We can’t risk missing out on this contract. I’m a big girl. I know the presentation backwards and forwards, and I know that I don’t hold a candle to your skill with words, but I can do this. I will do this.”
There was another brief pause on the other side of the phone, but when Megan spoke again, Shayla was sure she could hear a smile, in spite of the fact that Megan sounded like her lungs were full of crap. “You’re right. You can do this. You always could.”
“Thanks, Megan. Now, you go have some soup or something and get better and get your ass to the doctor. You sound like shit.”
Megan laughed, then coughed again before telling her okay and goodbye.
Shayla sat there just staring at her phone. When the screen went dark, the light overhead created a reflection, and she could see her face staring back at her. She brought her hand up to her face and ran her fingers down the scar that dominated her left cheek. At least she’d worn her hair down today, and she knew that their presentation was remarkable. Hopefully, it would be good enough to keep the people from Hall Global focused on the presentation, and not on her ruined face.
Looking at the time, Shayla grabbed her laptop and made her way to the conference room. Charlotte, an Executive Assistant with West End, was setting up a coffee carafe when Shayla entered; no one else had arrived yet. She wasn’t surprised since there was still about fifteen minutes until the scheduled meeting time.
“Good morning, Charlotte.”
“Oh, hey Shayla. Where’s Megan?”
