Page 49 of Tainted Rose

Scarlett

Afew minutes later, after thanking Isabella and June for being so kind to me, I take my bags upstairs with me and quietly let myself into Xander’s room. He’s one hundred percent passed out on the bed, deep in sleep. He doesn’t awaken when I slide my hand over his forehead or when I bend down to press a kiss to his cheek. I glance around the room, remembering the last time I was here. At first, I’d felt so loved, so connected to Xander, but then … everything had gone wrong. I sure as hell hope we’re past that.

Moving quietly, I get my toiletry bag and my pajamas out of my overnight duffel and head for his bathroom. I change as quickly as I can, pulling on an oversize T-shirt and boxer shorts, then stop when I see my reflection in the mirror. Deep breaths. Tear tracks are still visible on my cheeks. I can’t believe I lost it like that in front of Isabella and June. Actually, I can—I just hadn’t wanted to. Definitely hadn’t intended to. Not that anyone really intends to have a full-on freak out in front of their boyfriend’s mother.

Wait. Where’d that come from? Is he my boyfriend? We haven’t used those terms for each other before. We’ve never broached the subject, mostly because of the on-again, off-again, push-and-pull nature of our relationship.

I splash some water over my face and hurriedly brush my teeth before returning to Xander. Trying not to disturb him, I peel back the covers on the unoccupied side of the bed and slide in next to him, curling up close to his heat. I shut my eyes and try to at least rest. I’m not sure if sleep will find me tonight or not.

“No! No, Dad! I won’t! No!”

I’m jerked out of a sound sleep by Xander’s soul-wrenching shouts as he thrashes around in the bed. I immediately recognize it for what it is. He’s in the throes of a nightmare—something so awful, wretched screams tear from his throat, full of pain, over and over again. He sounds broken.

“Xander,” I gently whisper, scooting up in the bed and trying to pat his shoulder. “Xander, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

He bellows, “Noo! Don’t touch her! You’re hurting her! Stop!” His arms flail as his body twists and jerks, caught up in the sheets. His elbow grazes my cheekbone before I can get out of the way.

My hand flies to my face, covering it with a wince. Within a split second, I’m in motion, determined to help him.

Most people would probably have jumped back, given the person some space. Not me. I launch myself forward across Xander’s chest, tucking my face against his neck. I wrap my arms around his torso and hold him tightly. My breaths are exaggerated and slow, in hopes that his body will catch on and breathe with me. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Xander. It’s okay. You’re okay,” I whisper raggedly against his warm skin.

Eventually, his breathing slows, and his strong arms encircle my waist. “Scarlett?” He sounds confused, and it breaks my heart. This whole episode has shattered it to pieces.

I nod, glad he’s at least awake and away from whatever was hurting him. “Yes. It’s me. You were having a nightmare. Do you want me to turn on the light?”

His body tenses before he exhales roughly. “Maybe for a few minutes. Just until I get my bearings.”

He loosens his hold on me as I push up to plant a soft kiss to his bare chest. I crawl to the edge of the bed and flip the lamp’s switch, illuminating the room with a soft glow.

When I turn back to him, my intention is to climb right back on top of him to comfort him, but he bolts upright, reaching for my face. “What happened to your cheek?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he sucks in some air and closes his eyes, pulling his hand back. “I did that. Didn’t I?”

I rake my teeth over my lower lip, not sure what purpose it would serve to lie. “It was an accident.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” His eyes look so wounded and full of shame, it tears me up inside. He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at it.

“I’ll be fine.” I try to keep my voice soothing and worry free. It’s not like I’ve forgotten why he was thrashing around. “Does that happen a lot?”

He sighs heavily. “Sometimes. It happens more if I’m stressed out. It’s been happening a lot lately.”

I look down at where I’ve folded my hands in my lap. “Maybe I should go.”

“No.” His voice is hoarse. “Please stay. Just, um. Give me a second.” He slips out of the bed and heads for the bathroom. I notice he’s got on a different style of boxer briefs than he usually wears. These are short, the legs barely extending below his muscular ass cheeks and—I suck in my breath—oh my God. The light hits the backs of his legs just the right way. Distress at what I see makes a sick knot in my stomach. Thin, translucent lines crisscross his upper thighs—too many to count—and there are a few jagged spots, too. I hadn’t noticed the scars before, and it makes my chest clench and my heart throb and bleed for him. My hands shake as they move to clutch at either side of my head, holding it as I try to process how this could have happened to him.

In my mind, I play back the day he’d told me about his father being abusive and how he’d learned to protect those he loves because of it. I hadn’t ever dreamed he’d meant to this extent. If he bears scars, that means whatever had been used on him broke the skin. His father is a repulsive, vicious torturer.

Vomit rises at the back of my throat as I imagine a young Xander being beaten with something that would scar him like that. Tears well, and I close my eyes, trying to force them back as I hear the toilet flush and the water run.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God …My heart beats wildly, my head pounding with the newfound knowledge.

I try as best I can to wipe the horror from my face when he comes back to bed.

“What’s wrong?” He sits on the edge of the bed, cupping my face and sweeping his thumb over my tender cheekbone. “I could get you some ice.”

I shake my head. “I’ll get some later if I need it.” I clear my throat and look into his eyes. “I-I saw your scars.” My gaze drops to the bed sheets between us. “How old— How old were you when he did that to you?”

“The first time?”

My eyes widen. Not just once. I nod anyway, needing to know.

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