by Samantha Bee
And yet, by Declan's reaction, I get the feeling he knows more than he should. I can't even bring myself to be suspicious of him though. Not with the way he's grappling with the truth, fury and pain flaring in his eyes. There's no way he'd ever hurt Scar, ever have a part in the event that broke her.
His eyes fill with tears as he examines every inch of her. She moves towards him, stepping into his body and placing her hand on his chest. "Declan," she whispers, the emotion and questions clear in her voice.
He looks down at her, a single tear tracing down his face. "Please tell me it wasn't you."
The very air is stolen from my lungs with the power in that one statement. He's pleading and begging her for something she can't give him. They both know it. We all know it. We just don't know why he's so desperate for her to not be who she really is. Fear pulsates through me. Could Declan have a secret that could tear us apart?
Her fingers tap against his chest as she moves her head just the slightest bit forward. Another tear slips down his face. "He had photos." His voice comes out hoarse and strained as if he had to push the words past a barrier in his throat.
Rage and disgust war for dominance within me. Photos of Letty at her very worst. Evidence of her at her absolute weakest. The knowledge that those photos exist lights a fire in my soul and I feel my own monster growing in size. Slipping a little farther into insanity as I comprehend the level of degradation and humiliation these fucks put my girl through. That they relished in breaking her, enjoyed stealing her power.
"Who?" she whispers, her voice cracking as her hand curls into a fist, gripping his shirt tightly.
"My father," he admits and my heart shreds in my chest. For him, for her. For the pain and confusion and regret I can feel emanating from the pair of them. The rest of us stay deathly silent, holding our breath, the tension sucking all the air out of the room while we wait to see how she's going to react.
"Your father?" Her words come out breathy. She's suffocating under this revelation.
"Scarlett." He wears his heartbreak clearly on his face. Hating every moment of this interaction. "He wasn't there." He shakes his head, hanging it as the tears start to stream freely down his face.
We've all been there. We've all cried for all that our girl has been through. She may be a fierce queen now, but she was forged in the very darkest of flames. Born from the worst moments of her life.
"But," she hesitates, getting choked up. "He knows who was? Has evidence?" I can hear the thread of excitement in her voice. This may be the closest she’s been to having answers.
He's already shaking his head. "He's dead. He's gone, Scarlett."
A growl of frustration tears from her throat as she buries her face in his chest. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close to him and running his fingers over her arms. "His death is the reason I was able to escape that life."
He strokes his hands over her hair, cradling her head to his shoulder, giving as much comfort as he can as he rips open wounds that were better left alone. It's not his fault, and I can't bring myself to be angry at him. Even if I wish the words coming out of his mouth weren't necessary.
"I found the photos after he died. They..." He can't continue as he stares off into the distance, recalling the images that are probably burned into his mind.
Scar pulls back to look up at him, cupping his face. "They broke me."
He closes his eyes tightly. "They shattered you."
She wipes away his tears. "Don't cry for the girl I was then. Charlotte died that night. It wasn't an immediate death but a slow, dragged out one. Over months of pain and loneliness. Of despair and regret and guilt. Pieces of me kept dying until there was nothing of that girl left. She was better off dying with the rest of her family. Don't cry for her anymore."
"Pretty girl, how could I not?" I feel my own eyes swimming with emotions, and I know we are all about to join in on this cry fest. It's the most candid I have ever heard her be about that night, putting all the feelings I know she has about it into words. "I hurt for you before I even knew who you were. What they did to you..." He cuts himself off again, not able to say more on what he had to see, what she had to go through.
"Tell me." She says it softly, but no one mistakes it for anything other than what it is, a demand.
"He was a member of the same trafficking ring," he admits, closing his eyes to get this story out. "He knew what really happened that the news wasn't reporting. The real reason your mother snapped. I did my best to not get involved with that side of things."
Declan's hands tremble as he cups her face, his own memories surfacing. I get a glimpse into a side of this man I've never seen before. That he's never allowed any of us to see. His own darkness rising out of him. I guess it makes sense. Scar attracts broken souls. Of course Declan would be seeped in his own demons.
"They were all awful, depraved men. I tried to keep my distance from my father and his associates. I don't know any names for sure. I could take some guesses on who else was involved, but my father didn't trust me as much as I didn't trust him. I left the first chance I got and never went back."
"The..." Her entire body shakes, and she can't force the word past her lips, but she doesn't have to. We all have those damn photos on our minds. The very existence of them another lash against her already beaten core. It feels like with Scar the hits never stop coming. There's always a new piece of information, a new enemy, a new threat that punishes her for sins that were never hers.
"I burned them. I hated them so damn much. I hated seeing how helpless and lost you were. Before I even knew you, I hated what they did to you." His grip around her face tightens. "I scoured them for any clue, any evidence, anything that could lead me to who did that to you, but there was nothing. I thought they must have gotten to you, that you were already gone. So, I destroyed them."
Her body shakes uncontrollably, and he wraps his arms around her tightly. I wish I could feel relief knowing those photos were gone, but there's no way they were the only copies. I had never considered that there was anything like that floating around. My stomach roils and my head pounds as my rage and disgust begin to consume me.
I knew when we started this conversation that Scar's truest monster was going to be released, I just didn't realize that all of our monsters were going to grow that much bigger, that much more violent, that much more blood thirsty. I really hope these boys are ready to follow Scar into battle, because I need to spill some blood tonight.
After several long moments with only the sounds of her ragged breathing filling the room, she pulls herself together. She separates herself from Declan but pauses before completely moving away from him. "What ring?"
He cocks his head back, surprised by the question. "You don't know? It was Romano's."
She nods. "We had assumed, but it's nice to have the confirmation." She pulls away and moves over to Noah, but just before she reaches him, she turns back. "Declan?" He looks up and his emotions smack into me like a tidal wave. The shame, guilt, regret, and just absolute look of worship on his face.
It's so clear this is a new low moment for him, finding out the girl in those pictures is the same girl he's fallen for. I can't even imagine. The very idea of the photos existing is enough to make my need for violence pulse through me. To see them? I don't think I would be able to control my reaction.
"Thank you," she whispers, and right before my eyes, I see him start to heal. We all have a hell of a long way to go, but at least we have a starting place. Together.
Noah takes his turn pulling her to him. "Scar suits you a lot better, baby girl." She smiles and nuzzles into him.
"I agree, Handsome." He grins but I can see the concern still in his eyes. He has more he wants to say to her, ask her about, but he doesn't want to push her.
Ryder doesn’t seem able to stop himself as he pulls her away from Noah and into his chest. His grief is as clear on his face as the first day we met him.
"You had sisters." He doesn't ask it li
ke a question, he already knows it's the truth. The Lost Twins are just as infamous as The Fallen Prom Queen. Why is it that people love to hear about other's very worst moments? Sensationalize tragedies to appease some sick curiosity and then feel like they're entitled to all of the answers.
"I couldn't save them." A sob tears from her throat. She may have left everything behind from her old life. Laid Charlotte and everything she was, to rest, but she will never be able to do the same for her sisters. Losing them is the deepest mark on her soul. Ryder holds her, a whole new look in his eyes that I've never seen there before. The two of them really are more alike than he realized. Both lost their sisters and blame themselves when it was their father's betrayal that caused it.
Neither of them will ever truly get over their losses. No matter how much revenge they get, how much blood is spilled, how many other wounds are healed. The grief of their sisters’ deaths will forever bind them together in their pain. It may not feel as sharp over time, may not be an ever present cloud hanging over them in every moment, but it will never truly go away either. Pain like that can't be fixed, can't be healed.
Luca is the first to move, sandwiching Scar between his and Ryder's body. Declan, Noah, and I are only a half step behind him as we press in on her from all sides. Surrounding her with as much love and comfort as we can manage in this one small moment.
More than anything, I just want her to know she will never be alone again. Every time I see her, it's all I want her to know. We can never replace what she has lost, what any of us has lost, but together? Together I think we have a real chance at feeling almost whole. Learning what happiness could be.
We've all had tastes of it, but I don't think any of us have ever experienced it truly. We've all faced too much of the worst in humanity that we sometimes forget there's light to contrast the darkness.
We are deranged. We face evil. We aren't anybody's fucking heroes. But we laugh and we love, and we have a fierce loyalty for each other. What else could light possibly be made of? Together we create a light to illuminate the black world we've found ourselves in. Create shadows and shades of gray. That's where we live. In the shades of gray.
Scar wipes the tears from her face as she huffs a little laugh. We all slowly back away but stay close to her. I sense her need to break the tension, to move on from the heavy emotions this night has brought us.
I turn to Declan and Noah, giving them a savage grin as I channel Scar's most psychotic self. "Well," I pause for dramatic effect, waiting for everyone to look my way. "Welcome to Scar's Merry Band of Psychos. We don't have muffin baskets to welcome you, but we do have shiny guns and a thirst for blood."
Scar's eyes widen and surprised laughter eddies up out of her. Ryder cackles. And Luca rolls his eyes and scoffs at us, but I can see the smile tugging on his lips. Noah and Declan both look at each other before shrugging.
"So, what now?"
Scar's maniacal grin comes out to play as her eyes flick to each one of us. "Pony up, boys. Now, we go to war."
Chapter Thirty-Nine
We are all her willing soldiers. Waiting for her command.
We built up this empire together. Blood, sweat, and tears have been poured into every aspect of what we have built. For so long, Scar was content to stay behind the scenes. To have her anonymity and be able to move freely.
Not anymore.
You don't attack a kingdom and expect the queen to take it lying down. Scar is out for blood. She's ready for destruction. She's ready to make every single person who has helped Romano amass his power pay. It's war and we are taking no prisoners.
Hell hath no fury like a Scar stolen from.
She's had too much taken from her, she won't let it happen anymore.
She's fought and fallen, learned to feel all over again. Finally started to let herself heal, only to have another wound inflicted upon her. Hurting one of hers, keeping him from her. Taking Noah was the last mistake Romano will ever make. He's about to find out just how far Scar will go for her people.
She's going to take the throne we built, leave her shadows until everyone will whisper her name in fear. She won't stop until every threat is eradicated, every infliction against her and hers atoned for. And we all fall in line around her. Ready to unleash our beasts for the sake of the inked up, raven haired beauty we've all fallen for.
A savage leading her pack of monsters, ready to let chaos reign. Unleash the destruction that is always just on the tip of her fingers.
Her eyes land on me, silently asking me if I'm ready. I nod at her before looking at the others. Scar and Kade are buzzing with energy, needing blood to spill in retribution. They need the thrill of the kill, the rush of the blood to sate their pain.
Losing Noah hurt all of us. We all need this to happen, for the safety of our family.
Her eyes hesitate on Noah and then Declan. She opens her mouth to protest again, but Declan cuts her off before she even has the chance. "Don't start, pretty girl. We already agreed."
Noah pins her with his own pointed stare. "We do this together or we don't do this at all."
She huffs in her seat but gives her agreement. I don't know why she even tried. We already had this argument back at the house. It was five against one, odds that rarely ever happen. Especially against Scar. But we are a family and while it may put them in danger, it's more important for everyone to know they're hers.
More important for everyone to see us as a united force, take notice of just what we are capable of. Tonight is about revenge and retribution, yes, but most importantly it is about sending a message. We are going to reign together, one solid entity, so we need to send messages together too.
"Let's go to war." She smirks before hopping out of the car. We all follow suit as she strides towards the doors to the fights. Kade and I are both only a half-step behind her, flanking her sides. Ryder is directly behind her, a step behind us, with Noah to his right and Declan to his left.
We move in perfect formation, an extension of each other as we throw the doors open and enter the fights. We carry our need for violence like a torch, singeing anyone who gets too close to the flame. It emanates out from us in waves, the crowds getting quieter and quieter as more and more people take notice of us.
It's impossible to mistake us for being anything other than on a mission. Everyone here is more than aware that the only missions we partake in are deadly.
I have a single moment of feeling grateful that it's the middle of the goddamn week. Not that there is any convenient time to declare a war, but at least tonight the fights aren't teeming with people. Everyone who is here is a regular, one of ours, or one of Romano's. We were banking on it.
The crowd parts as Scar heads straight to the center ring. I scan the room with my eyes, noticing how even the fights are slowing and coming to a stop as the entire warehouse descends into an eerie silence. I find Joe standing on the second level, watching our progression with keen eyes. Even from here, I can see the worry in his features.
He doesn't like Scar taking the lead, putting herself in front of the danger. I can't say that I do either. Hell, none of us do. But the same way she couldn't stop Noah and Declan from coming with us, we can't stop her from taking what's rightfully hers. We can't get in her way, not again. She needs this like she needs to breathe. She needs to claim her stake, show everyone who she is.
She's not a scared little girl anymore. Not lost and lonely. Not fragile or broken. She's a force to be reckoned with. The wind that uproots anything that tries to stand in its way. The waves that swirl and crash over everything that surrounds them. The rain that falls in endless torrents until it washes everything away, leaving only her.
By the time we reach the center ring, every single person in this room has taken notice of us. All other conversations have been put aside as everyone waits to see what the fuck is happening. I eye the fighters in the center ring and recognize one of them as ours.
He is one of the youngest fighters we've ever brought on
. His skills and endurance have caught the eye of every single one of my trainers. Even if Joe calls him a little shit. He has true potential.
My eyes scan up his body, taking in the way his slanted eyes narrow on all of us. He's assessing and cataloguing the situation to the best of his ability. He must feel my eyes on him because he turns my way, and my eyes lock with his.
He must see the storm brewing here because he gives me a respectful nod before slightly tilting his head. A silent question that shows more about this kid’s grit and ability to read a situation than anything he could have told me himself.
I nod my head and cock it to the side. He's too young to be a part of this. He's quick to follow my instructions as he hops out of the ring, only stopping to give each member of our crew respectful nods of their own.
I see the flash of intrigue in Scar's eyes, but she quickly clears it away. I notice Ry's and Kade's approval as they watch the kid's back. He makes his way quickly to where his friend stands. A taller kid with darker skin and features. I recognize him as the other young fighter we brought on. They both lean up against the wall and turn their focus back to us.
The other fighter is slower to move out of the ring but just as respectful. I recognize him as one of Rachel's men. I see the way he tries to figure out if he's supposed to support whatever the hell destruction we are about to cause.
I ignore his probing looks. He's not one of mine. We protect our own, go out of our way to ensure the safety of every single one of our employees, no matter what the position. But this guy? He's Rachel's man, not mine. We may be friendly, but I need to put my own first. He's a grown ass man and can figure the rest out himself.
Scar climbs into the ring and we all follow her, spreading out around her with our backs to her and eyes on the crowd. She is our very center, always will be. I adjust my body so I can watch her from the corner of my eye, unwilling to let her out of my sight even if I do know how well she can hold her own.