Scar

by A. M. Brooks

  Trent clears his throat. “There isn’t really much to tell,” he says to Evita, as his grip on my waist tightens. My heart instantly sinks. Of course he wouldn’t want to rehash his past to a girl he’s hoping to get with. A past where he probably did horrible things to end up in the clutches of a drug dealer.

  “Not much,” Sam scoffs. “This motherfucker right here,” he points to Trent, “he goes to high school with all these rich snobs. Most of them pricks, by the way. Anyway, the main man on campus, Darrian, used to party, but he’s reformed now, whatever. Anyway, he had a friend who used to party with all the kids at this high school and was low-key selling them drugs. There was this one type of pill that was supposed to be the next greatest thing, only it started killing kids in neighboring schools. So Darrian goes to Trent for help to stop this dealer because the guy was also after Darrian’s chick at the time. And she was friends with Trent. So Darrian decides to go after the whole operation, then finds out it’s being ran through one of his dad’s businesses.”

  “THE TRACK!” Dean hollers, his head tilting back.

  “Then what?” The question falls from my lips, and I turn to face Trent.

  His eyes swing to mine and hold me hostage. “I helped Darrian and the drug task force. They had me pose as wanting to buy, since I was an athlete and always at the track. I was supposed to ask the other riders to get in on it. A deal was set up and I was wired. The bust was made and we were all arrested so that our covers weren’t blown. Darrian, of course, pulled some strings, so I wasn’t in jail long. Even though I explained why I did it to the MX committee, they still wanted hard proof it was all completely fabricated.”

  “We were given piss tests like every other day for six months,” Dean pipes in, “Trent had to go to a narcotics class and the officer he worked with had to testify for him. It was a shitshow.”

  “Kids were dying,” Trent responds, and everyone looks to him, their faces solemn. I manage to keep my poker face while my insides are screaming. His truth, the truth is so far off base from what I was expecting. He isn’t supposed to be the good guy. I’m not supposed to see him as a hero who was trying to save high school kids from ODing. All my instincts are confused and muddled. Suddenly my dad’s interest in Trent and destroying him makes sense. He destroyed my father, not as revenge, but because Trent is good and my father is evil.

  The conversation continues around me, but I can’t pull my head out of the fog. I feel raw. Dirty. Horrible. I’m here to ruin his life and all he’s done is proven over and over again that he’s actually a decent person. As if she can sense my internal meltdown, Evita stands from her chair and makes a show of looking at her phone. “Wow, it’s late. We should get to bed if we’re leaving after the races tomorrow.”

  It works and everyone files inside the house. Trent tugs my hand gently to stop me. I bite my lip to keep from crying when I face him. His eyes search mine and I’m not sure what he sees, but he leans down and kisses my lips gently. “I would do it all again.”

  “Do what?” I ask, my voice husky and full of emotion. I’m terrified he sees through me.

  “Risk my job. Risk my life,” he shrugs, “I just needed to help.”

  “You’re an amazing person, Trent Nichols,” I tell him, feeling the honesty in my voice.

  He kisses me again before following me inside. We go our separate ways to our bedrooms. Evita is awake when I get in. I slide in to the bed next to her and she holds me to her.

  “I’m so confused,” I confess, and tears slide out of my eyes.

  “Maybe we’re missing something,” she tries, and I shake my head.

  “We both know his story makes sense. My father isn’t a good man, Evi,” I cry into her neck, while her arms tighten around me.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I have to go home,” I tell her. It’s the only thing that makes sense. If I can get more information or in some way change my father’s mind, I have to try. I can’t do this to him.

  “What about Colorado?” Evita whispers. My eyes squeeze shut, knowing I’m also ruining her chance at freedom if I end it, here and now.

  “Tell them I had a family emergency,” I whisper back. “If I can, I’ll come back, if not, just spend as long as you want. I need answers, Evi.”

  “I know,” she tells me, her head laying on mine, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  I don’t know if she means by my father or Trent and I can’t differentiate right now anyway. In my mind, I’m hurting myself either way.

  Trent

  My marks in Colorado should be the highlight of my career. After winning in San Diego last week, I was set up to place high in Denver. I should be enjoying the rush, and having the time of my life, only something is missing. Well, someone. For the hundredth time since she up and left in the middle of the night, I check my phone. A whole week and she hasn’t responded to my texts or calls. Evi said Scarlet was having family issues and needed to go home. I was pissed she didn’t wake me up to say goodbye. Hell, I probably would have gone with her if she wanted me to. Instead, according to Evita, she snuck out of the house like a thief and jumped on a flight back to Florida.

  I have no idea if she’s coming back or just how serious her family issues are. Scarlet told me her relationship with her dad is crap, so I can’t help but be worried. We have two weeks of free time after Colorado, and yet, I’m scared to leave, in case she tries to get here and misses us. I want her back here with me.

  My hands run over my head, again and again. Not even music is getting my head in the races tonight. My times on Friday were impeccable, and I attribute that to the fresh anger over finding Scarlet gone. Yesterday, we pulled a 24-hour day and, in the end, there was two point five points separating me from the number one spot. The guys were giving me side-eye, but were smart enough not to comment. AfterHours is breathing down my neck, hoping for a win here. There is a large sum of money on the line and we could all use it right now. I know my mood has been shit since we left San Diego, and I’m passed caring. Honestly, if I haven’t heard from Scarlet after today, I might fly to Florida to find her.

  “Time!” The crew pit member yells into the locker room. I stand reluctantly, and make my way to the doors with the other guys. Introductions take forever, until it’s my turn. I’ve been practicing the same tricks since I was eleven, so throwing some random Bar-hops and clickers while the crowd cheers along to Fort Minor’s “Remember the Name,” doesn’t take much concentration. When my intro is over, I ride over to where the others are lined up behind the gate. Our helmets come off while we wait for the National Anthem, and I let my gaze wander around the arena. I easily find Evi and Ayda at the yellow pit. Since the girls started traveling with us, we’ve upgraded them every step of the way. Ayda waves at me, and I lift my hand in response. My eyes land on Evi next, who gives me a gentle nod and sad smile. She knows more than anyone how messed up I am over Scarlet leaving. Evi had to break the news to me and is probably sick of me always asking if she has any updates. Scarlet hasn’t contacted Evi either and that is what really throws me.

  I get ready to race, straddling my bike and fastening my lid in place. I know this race is my last chance to bring it home for AfterHours. I owe them for signing me and not dropping me over the incident in Araminta. Even though I know I wasn’t in the wrong, the publicity could have killed it for me. I need to remember that. I need to focus, so I can close in on those two point five points and get the hell out of Colorado.

  The checker flag goes up, and we take off. I find my line easily and am able to avoid any side swipes from the other riders as I make my way through. My engine hums, like the beautiful beast it is, and my muscles feel the vibration from the handlebars. The bike becomes one with me while I drift into the corner with the holeshot. I complete lap after lap, keeping pace and, more than not, I’m leading the fight. After two days of riding, the loam is starting to loosen in some spots and avoiding it becomes a challenge after a few more laps. On my las
t ride over the double jump, I throw in a Nac Nac, which gets the crowd riled up again. The momentum from the landing shoots me forward, causing a larger gap between myself and the bike behind me. I cross the line first, before I feel myself exhale completely. Adrenaline shoots through my veins. I pop my lid off right away and push my sweaty hair back from my face to watch the boards. Everyone comes in, and soon after, my name flashes in neon green as the winner. “YES!” I shoot one fist in the air, before the guys land on me. Sam lifts me off my feet, they’re all jumping around and celebrating. The four of us round out the top ten. It’s a huge National win for AfterHours racing.

  We head back to the locker rooms and shower up. I grab my phone and twist it in my fingers, before caving and pulling her number up.

  I took first. I miss you.

  Seconds pass and she doesn’t answer. Sighing, I tuck my phone into my back pocket and follow everyone out of the locker room. In the parking lot, Evi and Ayda spy us and run toward us. Evi is swept up in Elias’ arms while Ayda takes turns hugging and congratulating all of us. I hug her back and force a smile to my lips. They all want to head to the nearby bar to party since it’s our last night and such a huge win, but I can’t get excited.

  “I’m going to head back,” I tell Dean, who shakes his head but lets me go. I keep telling myself if I get some rest, I won’t be such a grumpy ass tomorrow.

  I catch a cab and head back to the smaller cabin-style home that Dean rented for the trip here. I let myself in and grab a water bottle before heading to the living room. I throw on the TV and take my phone out again. Zero texts. Zero missed calls. I shake my head, resting it back against the cushions and close my eyes. A throbbing pain is starting behind my eyes. I turn the TV off, ready to just crash on my bed, when a I hear a knock at the front door.

  Groaning in frustration and ready to castrate Dean if it’s some girl he told to meet him here, I stalk to the door and open it with more force than necessary. “Hi,” Scarlet says softly, and it takes my eyes a minute to adjust and realize she is standing in front of me. My gaze greedily inspects her from her messy ponytail, makeup free face, and bare lips that are usually painted, over the pink sweater and grey cotton shorts that showcase her tan legs and painted toes. My mouth waters, and my heart wants to burst from my chest.

  My eyes lift and meet hers and the chocolaty orbs glisten in the dark. I snatch her up in my arms and her body sinks into my embrace willingly. My hands find their way to her face, slide into her hair, before I’m bending to take her mouth with mine. All the pent-up frustration and missing her over the week bleeds out of me into the kiss. Her coconut scent fills my senses and feels like home. Her little sighs and breathy moans are my undoing. I legit growl, reach down and grab her by the backs of the legs and lift her against me. Her arms wrap around my neck, her legs gripping my hips. Somehow I manage to get us up a flight of stairs and into my room. I lock the door before dropping her to the bed. She bounces slightly, and a mischievous grin tugs at her plump lips. “I missed you too,” she tells me, her chin tilting slightly.

  I tug my shirt off over my head and drop my jeans to the floor, before coming down on her. My fingers loop around her shorts and underwear, sliding them down and tossing them to the side. Scarlet’s hands yank her sweater off and throw it to the side, instantly revealing her full tits. I groan, leaning up to kiss my way around her sun-kissed skin, before sucking a nipple into my mouth and rolling it around, gently biting while she gasps and arches underneath me. Her pelvis connects with my dick and I shudder. I release her nipple with a pop, trailing my lips down her rib cage, biting and sucking, kissing and licking over her flat stomach. “Trent,” Scarlet moans my name, and I reward her with a nip to her inner thigh. Her eyes are bright when they connect with mine, filled with lust and fire. I plant myself between her legs, hooking one arm around her thigh, spreading the other one wider, and lean in until my mouth touches her pussy. She jumps slightly, her fingers burrowing in my hair, twisting and pulling There is a slight sting on my scalp that makes my dick throb and sends pleasure over my entire body. My fingers flex and grip around her fleshy thigh, and I pull her closer, spreading her open and pushing my tongue as far inside her as I can go.

  “Oh god!” she shouts, and her head tilts back while I fuck her with my tongue, eating her as if she’s my last meal. Scarlet’s hips lift, twisting and writhing in my grip. She might have bruises tomorrow where I held her, and for some reason, I like that idea. I switch to her clit, working it while she chants my name, sucking, biting, and flicking it until she comes hard, her back arching, while she grinds her pussy all over my face. It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, the strangled sob that tears from her throat fills my chest with pride. I can’t wait any longer. I stand, grab a condom and yank my boxers off in one quick go.

  Scarlet scoots up the bed and her eyes move all over my body. Her cheeks are flushed, her bottom lip has a streak of blood on it, from being clamped between her teeth, and her hair has worked its way out of her ponytail. The long black strands are a stark contrast against the white comforter. I crawl up her body, my lips touching every part of her until she’s squirming underneath me again. I take her mouth once more, thrusting my tongue into her softness, forcing her to taste herself. She sucks my tongue deeper and a ripple of fire shoots down my spine.

  Grabbing hold of her, I flip us over until she’s straddling my lap. I scoot back against the headboard and her grip on my shoulders tighten. “I want you,” I tell her, kissing her neck and listening to the intake of her breath. I move her, lining her up, and lowering her down slowly until my dick bottoms out inside her. Her eyes widen, and her mouth opens when I fill her. I keep my gaze focused on her, loving every emotion and feeling that dances across her face.

  No more waiting. I want her to be mine. My hands grab her hips and move her up and down my dick until her legs shake and she’s panting against my lips. “Fuck yes,” I grunt against her mouth, “So perfect. Perfect for my dick, squeeze me just like that, Scar.” I can feel my own release building and my movements grow desperate. I yank her body down on mine, and slam my hips up into her, needing her to come again so I can feel her pussy spasm around me. Scarlet kisses down my throat to my shoulder where her teeth sink in. I grind into her this time when I pull her body down and her head falls back, my name tumbling out of her swollen lips. I slam my hips into her twice more before I find my own release.

  “That was amazing,” she says hoarsely, her body sagging into mine. I shift us down so she’s lying on top of me.

  I kiss along the crown of her head, loving the way the strands of her hair tickle my jaw. “I’m never letting you go, Scar,” I tell her honestly. “Finish out this tour with me. I know you have college plans and I’m cool with that. We can figure it out later, but I can’t let you go. One week without you was unbearable.”

  Her dark eyes grow liquid, and I think she’s going to cry, but then she gifts me her smile instead. “Where are you going next?”

  “We have two weeks off before we head back to California, San Francisco, this time, then we head out east.”

  “Do you have any plans the next couple of weeks?” she asks, her brow lifting in interest. I shake my head no. “I just want to spend it with you.”

  “How do you think everyone would feel about heading south of the border?”

  “Mexico?” I question, contemplating it in my head. My mind goes right to the beach, the turquoise waters, and Scarlet under me as much as possible. “I’m sure Dean can find us something.”

  “I have a place for us,” she declares, her eyes lighting up. “I told you Mom lived there. She left a house that I visit sometimes.”

  My fingers trail down her cheek and grip her jaw, while I lean in to kiss her. “Sounds perfect, baby. Are things okay at home?”

  Her smile vanishes, and her eyes lower. “Same as always.”

  My palms close over her shoulders and rub gently, waiting for her to continue. Her gaze slides away before
coming back to mine. “My father is difficult. I don’t think that will change.”

  “I’m here for you if need anything, okay? I mean it. I’ll help you get through whatever is going on.”

  Scarlet nods and lays her head on my chest. After a while, her body grows slack on mine, and her eyes close. Gently, I roll her to the side and pull the blankets around her before sliding off the bed and heading to the bathroom. I discard the condom and wash up before sliding back into bed. Scarlet’s soft breathing hits my ears, and I grin. I scoot under the covers, and she easily rolls back into my arms, burrowing against the warmth of my body. My last thought before my eyes close is that I’m damn relieved she’s here. Scarlet is back, and I’m never letting her out of my sight again.

  Scarlet

  Everyone was on board for escaping to tropical paradise, and once they heard about my mom’s home, it didn’t take long for plans to be put in place. Dean insisted we drive down to Dallas and catch a flight the rest of the way. I actually hadn’t been to the home in Talúm in a few years and I couldn’t wait to see it. I had always loved the smaller beach town. It was touristy enough to keep the area thriving, yet not overly stacked with hotels and resorts. When we landed, we rented two vehicles. Trent and Evita rode with me. I loved watching Trent’s eyes widen when we pulled up the driveway to the house. I say that word lightly when I really mean it’s a smaller-size mansion with a sprawling lawn that butts right up to the beach in the back. When I was younger, I remember combing the beach for seashells while my father’s men guarded the area, stalking the beach, and strapped with weapons. At the time, it didn’t faze me; now, I know why things were that way.

  When my mom died, the house was closed up and the majority of the staff was let go. Only a groundskeeper and his wife were allowed to stay. She kept the inside clean, and the water running, while also keeping the lawn looking nice. Over the years, if my father decided to vacation there or if I was shipped there with a nanny, we always found it live-in ready.