The Scars Keeper

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The Scars Keeper Page 12

by Scarlet Wolfe


  “Can I say I really don’t like the person you’re being right now? I’ve never thought of you as shallow, Madison.”

  “Geez, alright. I’m sorry, but please be careful with him, and if you two do start dating, don’t expect all our friends to be cool with it. Blake’s influential. He’ll have them turning on you fast.”

  “Whatever. I need to get off here. He’s been burning up my phone all evening.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll support you no matter what. I promise.”

  “Thank you. We’ll talk tomorrow.” I end the call and sigh as I type Blake a message.

  Me: I have nine text messages demanding we talk. What’s your problem?

  Blake: I miss you.

  Me: Really? Or do you just not want to see me with another guy?

  Blake: I knew something was going on between you and that prick, so you might as well come clean with me.

  Me: We’re only friends. If that changes, it’s really none of your business.

  Blake: We have a history, Ave. I thought maybe we could get back together. I can’t believe you’d already date someone else.

  Me: Seriously?? This coming from the guy who dumped me so he could screw girls on spring break.

  Blake: Fine. Date the piece of trash, and don’t act surprised when he brings you down to his level.

  Me: Oh, don’t act like you’re perfect. He’s nicer to me than you ever were.

  Groaning, I shut off my phone. I should’ve known we couldn’t stay friends. He doesn’t want me back. He’s only worried he’ll suffer embarrassment if word gets around that I like Hayden instead.

  He probably has nothing to worry about since Hayden’s determined we remain only friends. Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough. I’m dying to know what happened tonight between him and Mr. Bradford.

  With my anxiety at an all-time high, the thought of cutting filters through my mind. I haven’t injured myself in ten days, but ever since the creeper gave me his address this morning, the images of the last time I cut continue to creep into my head.

  But that means images of Hayden do, too, and he went to great lengths to help me that day, taking me to the clinic and everything.

  I can’t find it in me to let him down today when he risked so much to confront our teacher tonight. He obviously has feelings for me, and I wish he’d allow himself to act on those.

  Regardless, I need to be a good friend back to him and find a way to make up to him all the help he’s given me.

  ***

  I didn’t sleep for crap last night. Anxiety kept shaking me awake like it so often does. It at least allowed me to get to school early this morning.

  I was determined to get to physics before Blake. He can then decide if he wants to sit behind me or not. I hoped Hayden might show up early, too, so I could ask him about last night, but here I sit while student after student strolls in.

  After ten more minutes, he enters and comes toward me. He stops at my desk, and I breathe in his woodsy scent, braving a peek up at him in the process.

  “It’s taken care of,” he murmurs. Before I can reply, he passes by my desk. I twist my body to look at him as he slides into his seat in the back row.

  Our eyes connect, and he stares at me. His face is expressionless, and once again, I need inside this guy’s head.

  Blake walks by and sits down behind me. With my torso still twisted around, my gaze diverts to his. Shit, I was totally busted staring at Hayden.

  “Can’t get enough of him already, huh?”

  I roll my eyes, and shift forward. Hearing him sigh, I soon feel his hand on my shoulder. He rubs it and leans over, putting his mouth to my ear.

  “Look, I know you’re only trying to make me jealous. Let’s get back together, and we can forget about him and spring break. I’ll even consider dating you through college, too.”

  Grabbing his hand, I push it off of me and turn to glare at him.

  “Oh, how thoughtful of you. Yes, I’m dying to be your girlfriend while you screw chicks in your dorm room.”

  He growls and presses his hands to the sides of his head.

  “I won’t, OK. I’ll be faithful,” he says in a hushed whisper before glancing around us.

  “Did you lose your virginity over spring break?”

  “Avery, shit, be quiet!”

  “Answer me.”

  He hangs his head. “Yeah, I did, but it didn’t mean anything. It’d be different with you.”

  “Well, you definitely lost your shot at that happening, and I hope for you it was worth it.”

  Turning back around, I feel the flood gates bowing as the tears try to bust through them, but I’m not letting that happen at Blake’s expense.

  I’m soon distracted when a middle-aged woman carrying a purse hustles into class. She’s breathless and frazzled as her eyes dart around the room and then our teacher’s desk.

  “Hi, I’m Evelyn–I mean Mrs. Harper. I’ll be your sub for today, and I’m sorry I was a few minutes late. I had trouble finding the classroom.”

  My waistline is getting a workout as I turn toward the back of the classroom again and wait for Hayden to somehow tell me why Mr. Bradford isn’t present.

  Lord, did he bury the man’s body last night or what? One side of his mouth turns up in a faint smile, but that’s it. That’s all he’s giving me.

  “Just great,” I say with a wave of my hand.

  “Excuse me?” Mrs. Harper asks. I twist forward, feeling my face flush.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I was wondering why Mr. Bradford isn’t here today.”

  She smiles. “Sorry, they don’t tell us the reason a teacher is out for the day.”

  “Right, thanks.”

  I feel Blake’s mouth at my ear again.

  “I bet you want him, too. Maybe you were only a tease with me.”

  Shoving my arm behind my back, I give him the finger for a few seconds. I guess several classmates witness it since I hear snickering.

  Poor Mrs. Harper appears even more distressed and confused as she nervously smiles and looks around the classroom.

  “OK, let’s get started.”

  Yes, let’s … Maybe I’ll learn something for a change.

  ***

  “Hey,” Hayden says in a smooth voice. I jump, not realizing he walked up behind me at my locker. He leans back against the closed one next to it and eyes me.

  Putting a foot behind him, he bends one knee and rests a book and pencil on his thigh. He glides a hand over his thick hair, pushing it back to where I’m left with an amazing view of his handsome face.

  As he stands tall next to me, I wish to stare up at it forever and ever. If he only knew how cool he looks doing something as basic as leaning against a locker. He raises his eyebrows and smirks. Crap. Busted again.

  “Hi, sorry. Uh, we need to talk.”

  “Yeah, we do.”

  “Since I somehow don’t have tutoring today, want to meet in the woods later?”

  “Sure. I have an errand to run first. Will four-thirty work?”

  Slamming my locker shut, I smile.

  “Perfect.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hayden

  After I returned home from Mr. Bradford’s last night, I first iced my sore hand. I had one problem out of the way, so it was time to move on to the next. I spent the rest of the night researching self-harm on the internet.

  I’m determined to stop Avery’s self-destructive behavior. I found some ideas of things she can do in place of cutting, but it sounds like she needs counseling more than anything.

  I’ll pay for the sessions if she’ll go. Then, her parents won’t have to find out, but for now I’m at the bookstore picking up a gift for her that I hope will help.

  I don’t understand how I got to this place where I’m interested in a girl for more than sexual gratification.

  Her words about me looking for someone to save have replayed in my head ever since she softly spoke them in my truck.

  Maybe I
am seeking redemption for the life I took, but if it helps her, too, then what’s the harm? As long as our relationship stays platonic, I don’t see a problem.

  It will be challenging to resist her, but I’ve always found strength when I’ve needed it, and I’ll call upon it now more than ever.

  I take my items to the register, and the asshat behind the counter smirks. He appears close to my age, and I get it; I can’t believe I’m buying this girly-looking shit, either, but he needs to wipe the damn grin off his face pronto before I do it for him.

  Arriving back home, I head straight to the woods and set the brown bag from the store next to me on the bench. I wipe my sweaty palms on the thigh of my jeans next before I twist the cap off a beer.

  Inhaling and exhaling to calm my nerves, I look to the sky in the clearing. The sun has passed over it a bit, but it’s still casting a bright glow over the relaxing space.

  I say that, yet I’m anything but relaxed. Excitement is buzzing in my head, pumping the blood through my veins at a faster speed, and I need to shut that shit down.

  She’s a shiny new toy … That’s the infatuation. Nothing more. No, she’s a broken toy, and like I’ve done with old motorcycles, I have the urge to piece her back together, discovering what was wrong beneath the exterior.

  That’s all this is. It’s gotta be, but dammit all to hell if I didn’t want to fly out of my chair this morning and beat the shit out of Blake when he massaged her shoulder.

  I hear her approaching. She steps from the path into the clearing and in a breath she smiles. Damn, she appears even more gorgeous than before, having changed into skimpier clothing.

  She’s put on more makeup and done something to her hair, too. The golden strands are flowing over her shoulders in waves, but she’s hot without any of the extras.

  A pair of navy shorts barely cover her lethal toned legs, and a pink tank top is hugging her tits just right. Her smile warms to bashful as she stalks my way.

  Strength … where the fuck are you?

  Avery

  Hayden’s eyes are eating me up as I walk toward him. He has an arm draped casually over the back of the bench while his stretched out legs cross at the ankle. He’s holding a beer bottle, too, like it’s no big deal he’s drinking.

  He seems cool and collected while I pray I don’t succumb to a fainting spell.

  “Hi,” I say before I take the other bench to his left.

  “Hi. Want a beer?” He reaches beside him and grabs another.

  “Where did you get those?”

  “My uncle keeps them stocked in the fridge in the garage. I help myself, but I don’t abuse it. He’d probably say something if I did.”

  “I don’t know.”

  He shrugs. “No problem.”

  “Actually … give it to me. It’s not like we have to have a party to drink. One might be good for my nerves, which are frayed, thank you, after waiting to hear what happened last night.

  “I should’ve gotten your cell phone number yesterday. I almost came over and knocked on your door to hear what went down.”

  He lets out a light laugh as he twists off the top to the beer and hands me the bottle.

  “Why wasn’t he at school today?”

  “I’ll just say he’s recuperating.”

  I cover my mouth before I decide a long drink of beer is more of what I need.

  “You beat him up?”

  “A little. Nothin’ he won’t heal from.” Shifting to face me, his expression becomes serious. “You don’t have to worry anymore. He’ll never touch you again or look at you lewdly. You’ll get an A for the semester, too.”

  I lunge over and wrap my arms around his neck. Then, I plant a wet kiss on his cheek. His left hand clenches my waist to steady me, and I think it’s also to keep me close a second longer.

  Sitting back, I take another drink.

  “Thank you, Hayden. Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you, but I’m gonna try. Would you want to hang out away from the woods?

  “Since you haven’t lived here long, I could show you some places you haven’t been, and I could at least buy you dinner.”

  “You’re not paying for shit, but it’d be cool to hang out. I, uh, I have something for you.”

  “What? No, you’ve done too much already.”

  “It’s nothing big.” Letting out a puff of air, he grabs something behind him and sticks it out toward me. It’s a plain brown bag with two handles made of twine.

  After setting my beer on the ground, I take the gift from him, and he exhales again, sliding his fingers over his hair to push it back. His foot taps as I reach inside.

  “A journal.” Admiring it in my hands, I skim my fingers over the canvas of fall colors. “The rust, orange and yellow …”

  I glance to the trees nearby. “The woods around us must look like this in the fall.” An old-fashioned key hangs from a suede tie that closes the journal.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. Tears bathe my irises as his thoughtfulness stares back at me in my hands.

  “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I just thought it might help you. You can write your thoughts in it or secrets or whatever.”

  Peeking in the bag, I see there’s a pen, so I pull it out and laugh.

  “Pink with a fluffy top. Interesting.”

  His skin turns crimson as he smiles.

  “It doesn’t match the journal, but it seemed like you. Now, put it back. This is almost as uncomfortable as it was to buy it.”

  “You’re sweet.” I can’t help but lean over to kiss his cheek again. He seems uneasy when I sit back, and he even turns forward.

  “What are your plans for college?” he asks. “I imagine you’re going away to some Ivy League university.”

  “I’m going to IU. It’s in Bloomington.”

  “I know where it is. I was accepted there.”

  My face radiates excitement.

  “Oh, I hope you go.”

  “I only applied to make my aunt and uncle happy, but I doubt I’ll attend there.”

  “You should. It’s important, and I think it’ll be a lot of fun, too.”

  Turning to look at me, he sighs.

  “Baby, I’d like to do a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean I can. Not everyone gets what they want, so I need you to drop it, OK?”

  I display a shy smile. “I’ll drop it for now, but only if you promise this won’t be the last time you call me ‘baby.’ I like the sound of it.”

  “I keep giving you mixed signals, and I’m sorry about that. I like you.”

  One second, two seconds, three seconds …

  “But ...” I nod and bite my lip. “Will you answer two questions for me?”

  He swallows, and I watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs. I think I could find everything he does sexy and intriguing.

  “Alright. What are they?”

  “Did our kiss mean something to you?”

  A clipped laugh bursts free.

  “It meant a whole hell of a lot more than something.”

  “What about yesterday when we were walking to class? After Blake confronted us. Did you feel something then, or was it all my imagination?”

  He scrubs his face with his hands.

  “It doesn’t matter what I felt. Look—”

  “Dammit, answer me.”

  Finishing off his beer, he tosses the bottle to the ground. His eyes anchor to mine, and I hold my breath in anticipation.

  “I didn’t only feel it. It was as if I was trapped inside some acid trip. You were it, Avery. The only thing I could see, feel or smell. My senses, the air around us, it was all heightened.

  “So, yeah, I felt it. I also experienced raging jealousy when you stayed behind to talk to Mr. Bradford, when Blake showed his face in the hallway, acting territorial, and today when he touched you in class.”

  I can’t respond as his fingers reach across the bench and latch onto a chunk of my hair hanging over my chest. He studies it, seeming in a
daze, like he’s been transported back to that walk in the hallway.

  “I knew then I wanted to make you mine. All mine.”

  Clamping my hand over his, I press his palm to my chest.

  “Then no ‘but.’ Let me be yours, Hayden. I’m happier at this moment than I’ve ever been, so don’t take that away from me. Just hear me out.

  “I realized the last couple of weeks that I’ve not been a good girlfriend or friend in a long time. I was drowning in my sadness and anger, and it was taking all my energy to stay afloat.

  “It wasn’t intentional, but I was self-absorbed, treating my friends like they were invisible. But then you came along. I see you. I hang on your every word.

  “You’ve been selfless in helping me, and it made me evaluate how much I’m there for those I care about. I’ve not been, and for the first time in so long, I have hope that I can do better. You saved my life; let me make you happy, too.”

  Moving his palm to my mouth, I kiss it. My lips linger, and I close my eyes while I breathe in the scent of him and all that surrounds us.

  From where his hand has touched the bench, it smells of dampness, pine and leaves. It’s the scent of security. The woods have become my new favorite place. Our sanctuary.

  He pulls his palm from my mouth and replaces it with his warm lips. Fingers fist my hair as he pushes his tongue inside.

  His groan of relief sails in, too, and I whimper back. Our mouths fuse tighter, and our yearning is exhaled in cadence.

  We give and take and attempt to convey how powerful this bond is between us, but our kiss isn’t enough, our desires not being fully expressed.

  More,

  more,

  more.

  “More,” I whisper.

  Standing, I step over the arms of the benches that are pushed together. I start to straddle his lap, so he turns his body forward and scoots to the edge.

  His arms circle my waist, and he brings me in closer and closer until my thighs are hugging his hips.

  As our tongues probe and taste, I discover there isn’t a “close enough” with Hayden. He’s the cave I long to enter. The shelter to burrow in. A place to explore with excitement.

 

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