Page 10 of Scar

“Safe? You have a fucking mini army at your disposal. If they can’t keep us safe, then you’ve obviously hired the wrong fucking people,” my mother spits.

My father’s face turns to stone as he glares at her. “What about going to the lake house?” he suggests. “Our holiday home is only a couple of hours away.”

“And get bitten to shreds by bugs? Fuck off, Eugene,” she scoffs, sipping her vodka.

I look up from my book that I am reading. “You could take Layton with you?” I suggest.

My mother’s hard gaze snaps to mine. “Who the fuck asked you for your fucking opinion?” she sneers.

I don’t blanch at her words, as she’s said a lot worse in the past. “I just figured if you could take him, he could bring his team, and you could make it a pamper weekend away. You could even hold a bridge night. I know the Trenton’s are back from their retreat,” I state, trying to keep the desperation from my voice. If they go away and take all of the men with them, I could see Scar and check that he’s okay. My mother eyes me and I know that I have her attention when she doesn’t automatically shut me down with an insult.

“That isn’t a bad idea. We can all go,” my father suggests.

My mother curls her lip in disgust. She doesn’t want me there anymore than I want to go.

“I can’t,” I blurt out.

My father looks up from his paper. “Oh?” he simply says, not a question of why but a demanding explanation.

“I have a test to study for,” I answer, knowing full well that I haven’t attended college, nor taken any night classes.

My father raises his brow, calling me out on my bullshit. I think quick on my feet. “I didn’t want to say anything, as I-I wanted it to be a surprise for you Daddy,” I say in my sickly sweet voice that I know he likes so much. “I have been doing online business studies, so I will be able to help you more with the admin side of things,” I say, smiling sweetly at him. Layton shifts from the other side of the room and my gaze flickers to him, seeing a pleased smile on his lips. Of course he would like it, anything that would mean me towing the line working and doing for the family business.

My father’s lips tip up into a smile as he gets up from his chair. He stops at my side and kisses the top of my head before turning to Layton and the other men in the room. “You see how smart my girl is! If only your brother had the smarts as wellas the brawn, then maybe he wouldn’t have wasted his time fighting and then fucking dying. Maybe when you have a son, he can take over the business one day. I’m sure you will raise him right. Just like I have you,” he states.

I want to recoil at the thought of my child being born into this vile toxic family. I would rather give my baby up for adoption than raise them to follow in his footsteps.

“Yes lovely, although let’s hope they don’t take after her for her looks,” my mother says with a smirk on her face.

“That settles it, then. This weekend we will go away. I want all men with us in case they choose to attack,” my father declares as he looks down on me. “You will stay in the house and keep the alarm on at all times. The shotgun is in my office should you need it,” he instructs.

I try not to show the sheer glee of them leaving on my face. I just simply nod. “I won’t be going anywhere. I have so much to do,” I sigh.

“Good. We will leave Friday and come back early Monday, as I have a meeting Monday afternoon.” He nods as he sits back in his seat, picking up his paper. He pauses and looks to Layton. “Get the men packed and ready for Friday,” he orders.

Layton nods and walks off. Only 3 days to go until I can see Scar. I warm inside with excitement. I just hope he’s okay now.

I watchas they drive off. My father being his controlling self on knowing where we are at all times, I look on the tracker app on my phone to make sure they are far enough away, that even if they decided to return I would have time to leave the basement.

I grab a couple of bottles of water and a sandwich that I made him, and make my way down to the basement. I unlock it and automatically place the food on a box, before stepping up to remove the piece of wood blocking the little window. “They’ve gone away for the weekend. I’ve set the alarm on the house so if the door goes, I will hear when they come back. I also have a tracker on Dad’s phone so I will remember to check the time.” I sigh and turn to face him, only to find that Scar isn’t moving. “Scar?” I call out. I kneel down next to him and touch him gently. “Scar?” He feels cold to the touch. “Scar?” I call again, my voice fighting the terror that is slowly creeping up my spine. I press my fingers to the back of his wrist and try to feel for a pulse. I sigh in relief when I feel one. “I will be right back,” I tell him.

I run out of the room and up the stairs as fast as my legs can carry me. Quickly opening the fridge, I grab one of my father’s sports drinks and protein shake. I then make him a flask of hot tea before I quickly run up to my room and grab my blanket, then I run into my father’s room and grab a hoodie from one of his draws. As I run back downstairs, trying to carry everything and not fall and break my neck, I make it back to him. Using all my strength, I get behind him, using my body to sit him up a bit. With him laid between my legs, slightly sat up right, I manage to wrestle the hoodie on him. I yank the blanket over him and reach for the sports drink.

“Scar, wake up. I’ve got a drink for you,” I tell him. He groans and I’m relieved to hear him make a sound. “Open your mouth,” I instruct as I place the bottle at his lips and pour. Some of it trickles down his chin, but I hear him taking slow and steady swallows. I sag with relief, not sure what I would have done if he didn’t respond. I make sure he drinks at least half the bottle before I give him some water. Leaving him for a minute, I stroke his hair back from his face as he rests against my front. I wrap my legs around his torso, trying to use my body heat to warmhim up. “Please be okay,” I whisper, placing a soft kiss on the top of his head.

His body feels too thin. He needs food, and I mean proper food. I reach for the protein shake. “Scar, open,” I order. He does, even though he’s semi-conscious. As I pour, I’m not even worried about any that spills. I just want him to get something, anything in him that will help. If he doesn’t come around soon, I will have to ring his club. There is no other alternative. My blood boils. Layton is supposed to be looking after him. My father doesn’t want him dead. He is no good to him dead.

I run my fingers through his long hair. “You need to wake up, because I’m starting to like you,” I tell him. “If you don’t wake up, I have no one in my life I care about or cares about me. Well, at least, I think you care about me.” I shrug, continuing to stroke my fingers through his hair. “I promise that if you wake up, you can have a proper shower and sleep in my bed,” I state.

“Will you be in the shower with me?” his gruff voice mumbles. I gasp, looking down at him, seeing his pale grey eyes looking up at me. Relieved that he’s awake and okay, I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. “Fuck, alright easy,” he chokes out.

I let him go immediately, smiling. “Oh, thank god,” I sigh.

He moves as he tries to sit up, but wobbles. I quickly pull him back so he’s still cradled between my legs, with his head against my chest. “Drink some more of this. It will get your sugar levels up before you move,” I order. I dread to think what would have happened if I hadn’t come down when I did. He was so weak he couldn’t stay awake, and if I had come down even a few hours later, he could have been dead. My heart hurts at the thought.

He sips some more in silence before he hands me the bottle, his arm shaking. I take it from him and we stay like that, with him wrapped up in my arms. Eventually, I feel his breathing even out as he drifts off to sleep. I delicately stroke my fingersthrough his hair, moving it from his face. This big, powerful man has been broken down into a weak and fragile shell of the man he was.

“Scar, are you asleep?” I ask softly. No response. I exhale a breath and place a soft kiss on his head. “I’m so sorry my father did this to you. I need you strong. You are the only person I care about in this entire world, and I don’t want to lose you. So you need to get stronger because I hated my life before I met you. Well, I still hate my life, but you make the days I see you a little brighter.” I shrug as I look down at his sleeping face. His beard is now thick and covers his face, and at the top of his beard you can just make out the top of a scar. I softly trace it with my index finger as I sit with him laid against me for nearly an hour.

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