Surviving His Scars (Angels Halo MC Next Gen Book 4)

by Terri Anne Browning

  My flight was early, and I had a four-hour layover in Atlanta before finally flying to Rome.

  By the time the plane touched down, it was midmorning there and I was half asleep on my feet. My exhaustion wasn’t just from the long flights, though. Mom had insisted on getting me first-class tickets on both, so I’d been comfortable during the trips, but I hadn’t slept well since deciding to cut G out of my life.

  Instead of sleeping every night, I couldn’t turn my mind off. All I thought about at night was “what-if.”

  What if G loved me back? We could have been so happy. I would have done anything for him.

  But he didn’t love me.

  What if he’d kissed me that night in New York? Even if he didn’t love me, I would have been okay with him only wanting me.

  But he didn’t want me.

  What if I just disappeared and never came back?

  I’d threatened it that night in the club, but at the time, I was only bluffing, wanting him to show some kind of reaction. And while I’d gotten one, it still hadn’t gained me what I truly wanted.

  G.

  It was time to let that dream go, however. Even though I’d told myself I needed to move on when I left the medallion behind, I’d hoped he would realize he couldn’t live without me and give us both what we wanted.

  This time, I knew better, and I wasn’t going to make the same mistake of imagining that G would want a relationship with me. He was just the guy who wanted to protect me.

  Why, I’d never know, because I was cutting him out of my life once and for all and wouldn’t get the chance to ask.

  I could barely keep my eyes open on the taxi ride from the airport to the hotel where Mom made my reservations. Checking in took a few extra minutes because I was so sleepy, the receptionist kept having to repeat herself before I understood what she was saying in heavily accented English.

  Since that first time seeing G, hearing his slightly accented voice, I’d started studying Italian independently, but my head was too foggy from lack of sleep for me to even try to speak or understand it right then.

  As soon as I got up to my room, I tossed my stuff on the floor and face-planted on the bed, kicking off my shoes on the way down. But as always happened, as soon as I closed my eyes, my head cleared of sleep, and all I could think about was G.

  Swallowing a sob, I sat up on the edge of the bed. The pain in my heart was excruciating, and I yearned to turn it off. Have a single moment where it wasn’t painful to simply breathe. Just close my eyes and not have him invade my every thought.

  For a minute, all I wanted was to forget about G.

  Scrubbing my palms over my tear-soaked cheeks, I got blindly to my feet and stumbled into the bathroom. There was a huge bathtub and a walk-in shower side by side. I was weak from lack of sleep, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stand up long enough to shower, so I filled the tub and stripped.

  Pulling off my clothes, I stepped into the steamy bath and submerged myself. Sinking below the water, I held my breath, letting the heat of the water soothe my aching muscles, but it did nothing for the one that hurt the most.

  I stayed under until my lungs burned. With a gasp, I lifted upright, inhaling deeply as the water dripped down my face and from the tip of my nose. The tears hadn’t stopped, and they mixed with the bathwater as I leaned back, crying myself into a restless sleep.

  When I opened my eyes again, the water was cold, and I was shivering. Pulling myself out, I wrapped a towel around my body and stumbled back to bed. My skin was still wet, but I didn’t care. I fell across the end of the bed in nothing but the towel and closed my eyes again.

  My body was too worn out at that point and overruled my brain, refusing to listen to a single thing it wanted to remind me of over and over again. I slept all night and well into the next day, only opening my eyes when a pounding on the door forced me to lift my lashes.

  Groaning, I got up and tucked the towel around myself more securely before walking to the door. “Miss Masterson?” an accented voice called from the other side. “I’ve had several calls from your family in America. They are very worried about you.”

  Cracking the door open, I saw the woman from the front desk. “Hi, sorry. I must have passed out from jet lag. Thanks for checking on me. I’ll be sure to call them.”

  She gave me a tight smile and told me to have a good day. I could just imagine Mom calling her until she obtained a promise to check on me. Pushing my tangled hair out of my face, I walked over to my things and pulled my phone from my purse.

  Seeing all the missed calls and texts, I felt my stomach clench, and I quickly called Mom.

  “Are you okay?” she demanded in a frantic voice before the phone even had a chance to ring.

  “Hey. Yeah, I’m fine. I just kind of passed out as soon as I got to my room and only woke up when the woman from the front desk knocked on my door.” Not exactly a lie. Mom didn’t need to know about my emotional meltdown or falling asleep in the tub. It would only worry her and, in turn, worry Daddy.

  “Thank goodness,” she muttered. “I was imagining the worst things, Monroe.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to.” My stomach growled long and loud, making me grimace. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. “I promise it won’t happen again. I’ll text you periodically throughout the day so you won’t worry anymore. I swear.”

  That seemed to ease some of her fears, but it was several minutes before we said goodbye. I rushed through a shower and pulled my still-wet hair into a ponytail before grabbing my purse and heading for the restaurant downstairs.

  As I waited for my food to arrive, I replied to everyone who had sent texts…except to the one that didn’t have a name attached to it.

  The breadstick I was chomping on turned to dust in my mouth when I finally let myself click on the message.

  Unknown: Where are you, precious?

  Fighting back tears, I blocked the number and deleted the message before I could talk myself out of it, then shoved the phone to the bottom of my purse.

  I had to move on, I reminded myself.

  Even though it hurt, it was the only right thing to do.

  Chapter 4

  Gian

  She wanted to drive me insane. Kill me slowly with the only form of torture I couldn’t withstand. Push me until I did something we would both regret.

  I hadn’t seen more than a glimpse of her since New York. Hadn’t heard her voice except for her voice mail telling me to leave a message when I’d gotten desperate enough to try to call her. The one text I had dared to send went unanswered.

  Days and nights blended together, and I was holding on to reality by a frayed thread.

  She was gone. There was no sign of her anywhere. The GPS on her phone said she was home, safe. But I didn’t trust that, and the day before, while everyone else was gone, I broke in to her house to check for myself.

  Her phone was there, but no Monroe. And when I checked the damn thing, it had no service but was attached to Wi-Fi.

  She’d outsmarted me.

  Favors I’d hoped never to have to call in were used, and I finally tracked her down.

  That she was in Rome, of all places, blew my mind.

  Her first trip to Italy should have been with me, but I’d never thought it would happen. Now she was there, all alone, and I wasn’t with her.

  Yet.

  But I would be soon, and once I got my hands on my precious one, I was never letting her go again. She was going to get exactly what she wanted—and fuck the consequences. I couldn’t go through another day of this agony.

  As soon as the plane touched down, I was on my feet. I didn’t let the flight attendant open the door, doing it myself to get off the damn thing faster. My pilot probably thought I was losing my mind, and he wouldn’t have been wrong.

  A car was already waiting on the tarmac, two of my men in suits standing outside it. They frowned when I sprinted to the vehicle, barking orders along the w
ay.

  I had eyes on Monroe as soon as I knew where she was. From the last message I’d received, she was out sight-seeing.

  Alone.

  My man, Ugo, who was my right hand and the only other person I truly trusted, would protect her with his life if he had to, but he knew not to approach her unless her life was in danger. That didn’t mean she wasn’t already someone’s target. There were predators everywhere.

  Until my adoptive father’s death at the hands of the Angel’s Halo MC, he’d been the top sex trafficker in the US, and he wasn’t far from the top of the list in every other country as well. I knew Monroe would be a prime target for anyone looking for a girl to pull into the sex trade. And because she was so innocent, as well as beautiful, they could sell her for a higher price to someone who wanted to break her in.

  As the two men got in and drove me through the city, I stayed in constant contact with Monroe’s security. She was having lunch at some little café. She’d been walking through the busiest part of the tourist traps all morning. I had several pictures of her, taken from a distance, so I knew what she was wearing.

  The aviator sunglasses she kept on her face may have hidden her eyes from me, but they didn’t conceal the way her mouth was turned down at the corners. She wore a sun hat, protecting her head from the powerful rays, but her shoulders were bare except for little strings that held up her top. I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra, and the shorts she wore barely covered her luscious ass.

  I was going to spank that ass as soon as I got my hands on her.

  Leaving me. Not texting me back. Walking around a strange city without me, wearing clothes that showed off her beautiful body.

  She was just begging for me to put my hands on her.

  And she was going to get everything she wanted.

  The driver stopped a block from where Monroe was having her lunch. Slamming the door after getting out, I had started toward the café when I got a text from Ugo saying she was walking straight toward me.

  I moved between two buildings and waited. Moments later, she passed by where I was standing, and I merged in with the crowd behind her, following her several yards behind as she window-shopped on the walk back to her hotel.

  Hungrily, my eyes drifted over her, aching to touch her. What I wanted more than anything was to scoop her up and hide her away from everyone but me. Keep her protected from all the evil that polluted the world and live off her sweetness for the rest of my life. I’d been fighting with myself to do just that since she was sixteen and I’d started looking at her as more than just the precious girl I watched over.

  Now that she was legal, and she’d pushed me until I was climbing the walls of what was left of my sanity, I would do just that. It was what she wanted, what she’d been begging for in New York. If I’d given in and taken her with me then, I wouldn’t have suffered through the hellishness of the past few days, not knowing where she was.

  As she walked ahead of me, my eyes were drawn over and over again to the sway of her hips in those tiny shorts. Every time I tried to tear my gaze away, it was to see some other fucker with his eyes locked on that delectable ass, and I wanted to put my fist through their faces. Break their eye sockets and make it impossible for them to look at my precious girl ever again.

  Monroe slipped into a shop, and I hastily followed. I watched as she drifted from one clothing rack to another, before picking up a few items and walking toward the back to try them on. I stayed out of sight until she entered a changing room stall, keeping my gaze lowered when the saleswoman walked past me to assist another customer.

  Putting my hand on the thin, wooden door, I rapped my knuckles against it lightly.

  “Just a sec.” Monroe’s sweet voice reached my ears, and I released the pent-up breath in my lungs at one of my favorite sounds.

  From the other side of the door, I heard clothing rustling, and my body hardened more, imagining the material of her clothes caressing her bare skin. I balled my hands into fists to keep from knocking the door down and getting to what I so desperately wanted to hold and touch.

  Finally, the door began to swing inward, and I pushed my way inside before she could see it was me.

  “What—” She broke off abruptly when she lifted those gray eyes, and our gazes locked. “G,” she breathed, tears instantly spilling over her lashes.

  “Precious,” I growled her name, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. “Don’t you ever fucking run from me again.”

  Despite the tears still filling her beautiful eyes, she glared up at me. “I came here to get over you, not to have you chase me. I’m done waiting for you.”

  “Bullshit.” I backed her against the wall, cupping her luscious ass in my hands through the thin denim material of her shorts. “Lie to yourself all you want, but don’t lie to me, Monroe. Why else would you come to Italy, of all places? You wanted me to chase you. Take you.” I lowered my head, breathing in her scent as I touched my lips to her exposed neck. She shivered against me, tilting her head to the side to give me better access. “Make you mine,” I rasped against her soft flesh.

  “No,” she whimpered, denying what we both knew was the truth. “That might have been what I wanted when I went to New York, but you proved that was an idiotic idea. I get it,” she sobbed, and when I lifted my head, it was to find her eyes clenched shut. “You don’t want me. I won’t bother you ever again.”

  “Not want you?” I choked out. I thrust my lower body against hers, spearing her against the wall with the hardness of my cock alone. “I am dying for you, precious. I can’t breathe right now because it fucking hurts not to be inside your tight little pussy. I want you so damn badly, I can’t think past how perfect it will feel to slide between these thighs and lose myself inside you for hours.”

  “Then do it,” she dared, opening her eyes, her nails biting into my forearms as she clutched at me. “Right here. Right now.”

  “No.” Lifting her, I twirled us away from the wall. “Because you’re more important to me than a quick fuck against a damn dressing room door.” I turned her so she was facing the door and opened it. “Let’s go.”

  “But I’m not done…” I met her stubborn gaze, and her mouth snapped shut for a moment. “That dress is really pretty, and it looked good on me.”

  “I will buy you a hundred other dresses. Later. For now, I need to get you somewhere safe.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as my dad.”

  I took her purse off the back of the stall door then caught her hand, entwining our fingers. “Keep rolling those pretty eyes, and see if it doesn’t get you spanked.”

  Pausing in the doorway, she purposely looked up at me and daringly rolled her eyes again. A pained groan tore from me, and I lowered my head, touching my lips to her forehead. “You’ll regret that later,” I vowed. “Let’s go.”

  A sly little grin teased at her lips, but her gaze went longingly to the dress hanging on the wall behind me. Muttering a curse, I grabbed it and walked her to the sales counter. Tossing some cash down along with the dress, I waited impatiently for the woman to fold the pretty garment and place it in a bag.

  “Can we go now?” I bit out.

  With a happy nod, Monroe stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured softly.

  “Fuck, precious. Don’t you know I’d give you anything you want?”

  Her eyes turned sad. “Even if what I want the most is you?”

  “Whatever you want, Monroe. Even if it’s me.”

  Chapter 5

  Monroe

  Unlocking my hotel room door, I walked in, tossing my purse and the bag that held my new dress on the small couch in the sitting room before going into the bedroom.

  I’d still been exhausted that morning so I hadn’t unpacked, but my clothes were tossed everywhere, along with my makeup case and all my travel documents. Hastily, I began straightening everything up, not wanting G to think I was a total slob.

  But as I fol
ded up one of my T-shirts and placed it in my open case, G stopped behind me. I felt the heat of his body as he brushed ever so slightly against me before he wrapped his arms around my waist. In the next moment, I was being lifted and placed on the end of the bed.

  “I told you I was going to spank this luscious ass, precious,” he rasped close to my ear, causing me to shiver deliciously. “I don’t make idle threats.”

  “G,” I whispered in a voice that shook with sudden nerves. And need. So much damn need, I ached.

  “Shh,” he commanded quietly, positioning me on my hands and knees in front of him.

  I felt the material of my jean shorts stretch tight over the curve of my ass. One of his hands rubbed up the middle of it, forcing a strangled moan from deep in my throat. My thighs trembled, my panties growing so wet, my inner thighs felt sticky from it. I clenched my knees together, but G made a disapproving noise and forced them apart once again.

  Reaching around me, he unsnapped and unzipped my shorts and then pulled them down over my hips, along with my panties. He left them just below the curve of my ass, the cool air of the air conditioning causing goose bumps on my exposed, overheated flesh.

  The feel of his rough hands touching each cheek made me whimper. I loved his touch, his hands so rugged and callused against my soft, untouched skin. He skimmed his thumbs over the underside of my left hip, then lower to my bare pussy. I heard his harsh inhale when he felt how wet I was for him.

  A vicious curse left his lips seconds before his right hand landed heavily across my ass with a sharp slap. “Tell me you will never run from me again, Monroe,” he commanded. “Promise me you will stay where I can always watch over you. Protect you from the evil that lives in this world.”