The Devil's Scars (The Road Devils MC Book 1)

by Marysol James

  So, you move on. Mostly. But you don’t develop amnesia.

  And if his memory served – which it fucking did – then Scars knew what his back and legs looked like. Even without laying eyes on them, he knew.

  And worse, he knew what they were going to look like after months of painful treatment. Even with the wonders of modern medicine, and technological advances since he was nineteen years old, and good doctors, he was still going to be horrible. He’d have thick, raised scar tissue that would start off angry red and violent purple, and would stay that way for years. Oh, it would fade over the decades, of course, maybe turn white, if he was lucky. But still. For a long, long time, he’d still be…

  Deformed. Ugly. Repulsive.

  “Scars? Hey? You with me?”

  With an effort, Scars wrenched his mind back to the conversation they were having. Now, what the hell had they been talking about?

  “Uhhh.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a good place in California?”

  “Yeah. Sam’s buddy from med school works out there, said that he’d find a bed for you. It’s probably one of the best burn victim centers in the country and it ain’t free, but don’t worry about payin’ for anythin’. The club would cover. I mean, if you want to go out there, but I don’t see why you would. We’re all here. Zoe’s here. Denver has good burn clinics, your brother told me. Right?”

  “Damn,” Scars said quietly, not answering the question. “I didn’t realize, I don’t think. This is way worse than the first time.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wolf said gruffly. “It’s a shit situation. But you’re here and alive, and you got this. You got us. The club’s takin’ care of everythin’ here with a private room and like I said, we pay for anythin’ and everythin’, from grafts to physical therapy stuff. Me and the boys ain’t leavin’ you here alone, not for one minute, and Zoe will move heaven and earth to be here, every step of the way.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  “You’re – what are you worried about?”

  “Zoe.”

  “Why?” Wolf asked, totally perplexed.

  “Because I don’t want her to see me like this, Wolf,” Scars said simply. “I don’t want her to spend the next who-knows-how-many months here, every day, and trying to raise a baby, and get the parlor back up and running. I mean, Christ… we’ve just barely gotten together at last, after a rough start. You think she’ll be able to handle all of this? If she has to shoulder this responsibility so soon after us becoming a couple, she’ll run herself into the ground. Please don’t let her do that to herself.”

  “You what?” Wolf gaped at his Vice-President. “OK… look. I am totally aware that you have a death wish, with all your damn runnin’ into burnin’ buildings and cars about to blow up and shit. But you are even more interested in kickin’ off this earth than I thought if you try to tell Zee that she can’t see you and help you. I mean – c’mon, man. Have you met Zoe Parish? You think she’s gonna accept that situation for one goddamn second?”

  “She has to.”

  “Nope. Wrong. She doesn’t, and she won’t.”

  “I don’t and won’t what?”

  Wolf leapt out of the chair, turned to see Zoe standing in the doorway. “Zee! Look who’s awake!”

  “I see.” She crossed the room, her beautiful face bright with joy and love. “Hey, big guy. How’s my hero doing?”

  “Wolf…” Scars said, ignoring her question, not looking at her, and she heard the pleading in his voice. “Please…”

  “You have got to be kiddin’ me.” Wolf shook his head, squeezed Zoe’s shoulder as he passed her leaving the room. “I’m out, Innis, totally out. You two sort this out, just you and just between you. And let me say to you guys here and now, I’m tired of bein’ your relationship counsellor… me, of all goddamn people. Jesus. I mean, could you have picked anyone worse?”

  “What are you talking about?” Zoe asked him. “Why do we need a relationship counsellor?”

  “Nuh-uh, baby girl. I’m out.”

  Wolf shut the door behind him, and Zoe looked at Scars, wondering why he didn’t look happier to see her. She sat down in the chair next to Scars’ bed, gently took his hand.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, which was a ludicrous question, but it was the first one that came to her mind. “I mean – clearly, you feel like hell. But – how are you?”

  Scars stared at the pillow in front of him.

  “Are you in pain?” she said. “Do you need something? Should I get a doctor?”

  “No, baby,” he said, and suddenly, it was Scars again, and she almost sagged in relief. “I’m not in pain.”

  “OK so…” She stroked his face. “You OK? All things considered?”

  “Well. I mean, I’m obviously devastated about the fresh scars ending my promising modeling career,” Scars said. “But I’ll get past it. Somehow.”

  Zoe giggled. “Don’t be so sure about that, handsome. I think that ‘rough and ready’ can sell stuff. Jeans? Whiskey? Cowboy hats? Motorcycles? Badass bad boys with hero scars are hot as hell, trust me.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Scars shifted on his stomach, winced. “Ouch.”

  “You in pain?” She was on her feet in a flash, ready to get someone to push some more drugs into the IV. “You need some help?”

  “In a while, beautiful.”

  “Oh, God.” Zoe’s eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling. “I’ve missed hearing that. I’ve missed you. Scars… that you so, so much for what you did. For saving Keira. You just – you just ran straight into that building, no hesitation or thoughts about yourself. You were her only hope, her last hope, and you brought her out alive, at huge personal cost to yourself. I’ll never, never be able to pay you back for that, I know, but I can spend the rest of my life trying, at least.”

  “Zoe –”

  “No, please. Let me finish… I’ve wanted to tell you this for the past two days, and there was a time that I wasn’t sure that I’d ever get a chance. So let me, OK?”

  He nodded.

  “So thank you, and I’m sorry. Gil did this, and Gil was here because of me and Keira. I wish… I wish you weren’t hurt, and I’m sorry that it’s all come to this, and I’d love to go back and stop the whole thing from happening, but I can’t. So all I can do is…” She took a deep breath to tell him what she’d been longing to say since that sunny afternoon in the parking lot. “Is tell you that I love you.”

  Startled, despite the pulling on the back of his neck, Scars turned his head and looked at her. “What did you say?”

  “I love you,” she repeated. “I don’t expect you to say it back, alright? We don’t need to do anything about it at all. But it’s how I feel, and I meant to tell you in that parking lot, and then all hell broke loose and I couldn’t. So I promised myself, when you came back, I was going tell you. No fear or worry or expectations. I just – I wanted you to know. That’s all.”

  “Baby –”

  “And now we can get on with healing you, and making you whole and strong again,” she cut him off, determined to say everything that was on her mind. “And then…well. Then we can decide what to do next. If anything. But if I had it my way, you’d move in with me and Keira, at least for most of the week, because I guess you’d want to keep your own place in the mountains. But we’d eat breakfast together almost every morning, and we’d have coffee in the backyard on Sundays. We’d cook and play with Keira, and after we put her to bed, we’d go to our bedroom and shut the door and do every filthy thing that came to our minds. We’d be happy, Scars, all three of us, and I know that we have a long road to your recovery… so I’ll wait for it. I’ll wait for all of it. But what I wanted you to know is – I’m not afraid anymore. I’m not afraid of being loved and wanted, and loving and wanting in return. I’m ready.”

  “Oh, God. Zoe. Zo
e.”

  “What?” she faltered, suddenly afraid. “Why are you saying my name like that? Twice?”

  “Oh, baby… I – I can’t.”

  “You can’t – what?”

  “I can’t do any of that with you.”

  Zoe’s heart plummeted clean out of her chest and hit her stomach, then carried on down to the floor.

  “Oh,” she said numbly. “Right. OK.”

  “Hey –”

  “No, it’s really OK. I mean… yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I was dumb to think – I mean, this is all my fault, and I know that, and I don’t blame you for being angry at me and dumping me. I was stupid to hope that we’d be able to get past this – you got hurt because of me bringing Gil here, and you’re going to be in pain for a long time, and if I were you, I wouldn’t want to –”

  “Look at me, Zoe.”

  She screeched to a conversational halt, peered at Scars. “Ummmm. I am?”

  “No, beautiful. You’re not. Look at me.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion, but she did as he said. She looked at him, and she was hurt and upset at first (and felt like a goddamn moron for thinking that this was going to work out long-term, because it never did, did it? Nooooo, not ever), but as she kept looking, she began to calm, to see. Because when she looked at Scars, she didn’t see any blame, or anger, or accusation.

  No, she saw hurt, lots of that, and no surprise there. Worry too, etched into every line on that gorgeous face. Warmth and tenderness, she was overjoyed to see. And – something else.

  What is that?

  Then she knew: it was fear.

  “Why are you afraid?” she asked quietly. “You are afraid, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Of what?”

  “Have you seen under these bandages, baby?”

  “Yes,” she replied, the word constricted by the lingering horror of the memory of flesh burned to black, oozing, jagged edges. “I – a few times, nurses and your brother kicked me out when they changed the dressings, but I saw. I – I know how bad it is.”

  “So how the actual goddamn hell can you stand to look at me?” Scars asked her, his voice breaking as he finally uttered his truest, deepest fear, the one that was rooted in self-loathing and -disgust, the one that spoke both from memory and certainty of the present. “Knowing what I am now, and what’s hiding underneath? How can I expect you to ever look at me the same way again? All you’ll see are my scars, Zoe. I know it, and I don’t blame you, but I can’t live with it. You deserve better – you deserve a man who is whole.”

  Zoe gazed at him, lying there on that bed on his stomach, his massive arms cradling his head, that broad, muscular back covered by thick white bandages, and she thought how gorgeous he was, even shaved bald, because his cheekbones and eyes were brought out in sharp relief. He was stunning, this man, and even being immobile and weakened and damaged didn’t change that for her. Zoe looked at him, and all she saw was Scars.

  “How can I stand to look at you?” she asked softly; she wasn’t looking for a fight here, but she also wasn’t going to stand for this crap. “My God… you don’t have the first clue what I’m going to see when I look at those scars, do you?”

  He stayed silent.

  “Babe. Look at me.” She paused. “Please.”

  Scars turned his eyes in her direction.

  “Those scars… they represent your courage and selflessness for running into flames without a second of thought about yourself. They represent your facing down your own terror of fire, and not just facing it down, but kicking it smack in the balls, like the warrior that you are. But most of all, they represent my daughter, my sweet, amazing girl who is still with me, who will come home with me, because of you.” Her voice thickened, and her eyes stung with tears. “They represent her, so trust me when I say that your scars will never be anything but beautiful to me. I’m promising you, Scars – that’s all I’ll see and think when I look at them. Your actions and decisions have been literally branded into your skin… and I love and respect every one of those scars of sacrifice.”

  “I – I can’t, Zoe. I can’t let you put yourself through what’s coming.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s coming?”

  “The treatments and surgeries and skin grafts. The physical therapy. The frustration and pain and anger. It’s – I’ve done this before, baby, and I know what it was like, and this will be way, way worse. I won’t let you make this your burden. I can’t do that to you.” He took a shuddering breath. “So – I’ve decided. I’m going to go to California, to the treatment center that Sam told Wolf about. And I’m going alone.”

  Zoe stared at him, completely silently, for about thirty seconds. Then she shot to her feet.

  OK, I wasn’t going to fight with him, for obvious reasons… but now? Now I’m going to the goddamn mattresses.

  “Like hell you are,” she snapped, almost laughing at the look on his rough face at her less-than-sweet-and-supportive-girlfriend tone. “If you want to go to California for excellent treatment, well and good. Awesome decision. I applaud you. But you are not going without me.”

  “Zoe –”

  “Shut up,” she growled at him, reminding his strongly of Wolf. “I love you. We’re going to figure this out. The end.”

  “But –”

  “The end, you stubborn jerk. That means, this conversation is over.”

  “But Keira –”

  “Will come with me, and you’ll live with us when you’re between treatments and physio sessions and can leave,” she said calmly. “Any other objections?”

  “Ummmm.” He blinked rapidly. “About a hundred.”

  “I don’t care. Shelve them. Forget them. Write them on a piece of paper and eat them. This is happening.”

  “The parlor –”

  “Is burned to the ground. It’s also a crime scene. A man died there, after an attempted kidnapping, and a serious injury. The cops have made it clear that it’s going to take a couple of months to investigate and clear everything, and we can’t touch the parlor until they declare it not a crime scene. And then Wolf needs to get it inspected and assessed, then start planning and building, and he needs to hire an accountant to help with budgeting and expenses, then he has to insure everything. Nothing will happen in terms of actual building for at least two months, probably more, and I won’t even have a parlor to manage for another two after that, and frankly, Saint can take over if he has to. So – I’d say I’m pretty free for the foreseeable future, huh?”

  “Uh.” He scrambled to find another objection. “Where would you and Keira live?”

  “Jesus,” she said, disbelieving at how badly he was grasping at straws. “Good point, Scars! I mean, it’s not like California has apartments for rent or anything… Christ, thanks for pointing out this insurmountable problem to me. I’d better call the whole thing off.”

  “Zoe –”

  “Anything else weighing on your mind? Anything legitimate?”

  “Yeah – I mean – just – well – I –”

  “Yes?” She put her hands on her hips, tossed her blonde hair, glared down at him. “Yes?”

  “I love you, Zoe.”

  “I love you too,” she snapped back. “And that’s not an answer.”

  “It’ll be hard,” he said slowly, finally stopping the ridiculous tap-dancing and telling her the truth. “Hard watching me like that. I’ll be angry sometimes, say that what happened was unfair. I won’t want to talk to you, see you… I won’t want Keira to be there some days, much as I adore her. I’ll – I’ll be a royal prick sometimes, as I go through things and work them out. I’ll need time alone. Days on end, maybe. I’ll take things out on you, even though I know that’s not right. I’ll feel sorry for myself once in a while. I’ll be resentful of having to go through all of that shit –
again. I’ll want things to be different. I’ll want to run away. I’ll rage and vent and say awful things, then I’ll apologize and just have to hope that you accept and forgive and move on with me. I’m going to hurt you – the woman that I love – and I know that I will. You hearing me, baby? I won’t be the man that you remember, not for a long time. Maybe not ever again.”

  “Oh, babe.” She spoke softly, amazed yet again at the absolute, stunning beauty of this man’s heart. “I don’t care who you become through this. However you remain the same, or however you change, whoever you are at the end of all of this, whoever you become… don’t you know that you’ll be incredible?”

  “You really think so?”

  “I know so.” Zoe sat down again, reached for him tentatively, was overjoyed when he held her fingers tightly. “You waited for me, Scars. You stuck by me, and kept showing up, and kept faith in me, even when I pushed you away or was a full-throttle bitch or defensive as hell. You kept telling me that you weren’t going to take anything less than my best, and then you let me find my way there. My way to you. You’ve shown me how to be strong and patient, how to believe in someone who hasn’t yet come to believe in themselves. You did it for me, and now… now I’m going to do it for you.”

  She smiled, even as those sky-blue eyes shone up at her with tears. Happy tears, she knew.

  “You take your time, babe,” she said. “Do what you have to, say what you need to, feel however you have to. And I promise you – none of it will drive me away, because damned if I’m going anywhere. I’m here now, I’ll be there through it all, I’m going to be there at the end of it. That’s a promise, a guarantee, a blood oath.”

  “An oath forged in fire?” he asked, and she loved his light, joking tone.

  “Forged in fire,” she repeated, dropping the smallest, softest kiss humanly possible on his lips. “You walked through fire for me and my daughter, Scars… I can sure as hell wait for you to walk back to me, in your own way, in your own time. And when you do that, we’ll be there with open arms. On my life, my heart, babe. I love you. We’re waiting.”