Page 90 of Beautiful Scars: Unshakeable

I start the engine, checking the team's positions one final time. Everything is in place. We're as ready as we'll ever be. But as we pull out of the compound, I can't shake the feeling that whatever we find at that house will change everything.

The convoy moves silently through the streets, each of us lost in our own thoughts, our own fears of what's waiting for us.

Chapter Forty

Sunny

Istareattheframed print on the wall beside me. A beautiful watercolor landscape that Jade gave me for my birthday last year. I fell in love with it immediately and hung it up in my bedroom. I wanted to make sure I could see it first thing every morning when I opened my eyes.

I'm focusing on the colors one by one, trying to distract myself from the burning in my wrists where the rope bites into my skin. The leather couch beneath me feels sticky against my bare back, and I shift, trying to find a position that hurts less because that's all there is now. Pain and sometimes less pain.

My stomach churns as Garrett's footsteps echo from somewhere upstairs. The sound grows closer, each step making my heart race faster. I close my eyes, fighting back tears. I won't cry. I won't give him that satisfaction.

"You doing okay, Sunny?" His voice drips with false concern as he enters the room.

I nod, keeping my eyes fixed on the blue of the sky before sliding them over to the green of the hills. The mattress where I hid the tracker is just visible from here. I resist the urge to look at it.

Three days. Three days of this twisted game where he pretends this underground prison is some kind of home for the two of us. Three days of alternating between torture and fucked-up tenderness that makes me cringe. My body aches from yesterday's "lesson" about respect. The welts on my thighs throb in time with my heartbeat.

"Such a shame you're still bleeding," Garrett sighs, running his fingers through my hair. I fight the urge to flinch away. "But there are so many other ways for us to play, aren't there?"

I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. The pain I inflict on myself helps keep me focused. It keeps me present and from falling apart completely.

Where are they? The thought sneaks in despite my best efforts to keep it out. I need to keep focused on the minutes right in front of me, not the ones that may never come.

But, if Zane and Levi were coming, wouldn't they be here by now? Of course, the tracker could be dead. Or maybe it doesn't work through all this concrete and dirt. Maybe Garrett led them somewhere else entirely. Maybe they changed their mind. Maybe they're letting me live my choice.

I knew when I left there was a strong possibility that it was for good. That there was a chance I wouldn't be found. I knew it would hurt. I knew I would miss the life I was walking away from—I just didn't realize how much.

Garrett's hand tightens in my hair, yanking my head back. "Oh no. You don't get to check out on me. Not yet."

I force myself to meet his eyes. They're different now—crazier, more unhinged than before. The warehouse raid brokesomething in him. Or maybe revealed even more of what was always there.

"I'm not," I whisper, hating how weak my voice sounds.

"Good girl." His praise makes bile rise in my throat. "Now, shall we try something new today?"

Tomorrow the period excuse won't work anymore. He knows it. I know it. The thought settles in my gut and makes me nauseous.

But Jade is safe. That thought burns bright through the darkness threatening to swallow me whole. She's safe with Colt and the others. Even if this is where my story ends, I saved my best friend. Gave her the chance to have the kind of life she deserves with someone she loves.

I'd make the same choice again. Or I'd like to believe I would..

Garrett pulls his knife out of the sheath hanging from his belt letting the blade catch the light. "You've been so quiet today. I don't like it. Let's see if we can make you sing. Or maybe we could go visit the play room again?"

The thought of being dragged back into that room—with it's shiny metal table and rows and rows of tools and toys—is unbearable.

I close my eyes, retreating into memories of mornings filled with soft, slow kisses with Zane. Of Levi's arms around me. Of feeling safe and loved.

The first cut comes, and I bite back a scream.

I vow that I won't give him what he wants. But as the blade starts tracing patterns on my skin, I wonder how much longer I can hold out.

I think I overestimated myself and my bravery.

The hopelessness creeps in slowly, thick and heavy. Each breath feels harder to drag in than the last. The tracker was my last chance, my only hope. Without it...

No. I can't think like that. Can't let him win. But as Garrett's knife continues to dance across my flesh, I feel pieces of myself, ones I've worked so hard to put back together, start to crack and splinter.

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