Memory: Book Two (Scars 2)

by West, Sinden

  I felt him breathing beneath me. “I do work for Antony’s family from time to time. Debt collection, security, that kind of thing. I freelance as well.”

  “Who for?”

  “Whoever pays the most.”

  It was an incomplete answer, but I didn’t really care. This guy didn’t do things above board, just like my Mom and me. He was no mark, that was for sure, and I was glad that he wasn’t.

  “Is that why someone attacked me? Because of what you do? Should I be scared?” I didn’t feel scared though, and that was perhaps due to being around him. He was so confident and self-assured. If there was a weakness in him, I couldn’t find it.

  He responded by kissing me and that suited me just fine. Our tongues tangled together urgently as he stripped my clothes from me. Then he dropped to his knees and began to kiss my stomach. Slowly, his mouth searched down me in a wave of licking and kissing that had me throwing my head back as I panted. It took him an agonizingly long time to reach between my legs, and when he arrived it took a mere minute to cum. His fingers dug into my flesh while his mouth worked magic, and I wanted them to leave bruises, to feel claimed.

  We had sex on the floor and ended up curled up together. I was pressed up against his hard back while arms held me tight. I felt safe, safer than I could ever remember just like that.

  His lips were soft on the back of my neck, small kisses searching up from the base of my neck to my hairline that had a smile curving on my lips. But then that pressure right there made me think of something else, almost as if the fog had lifted.

  “Don’t.” My voice rang out like a sharp shard cutting through the moment. The sweetness, lust and intoxication that had just occurred fell away like a knife had just cut through the tenuous strings holding them in place. The heavy curtain that had fallen over my brain fell with them, exposing memory like an evil white light that was too bright and hurt every inch of me. It speared through mind and my heart, and I felt a physical pain that made me want to vomit. I tried desperately to breathe and my intake of breath sounded as a low rasp as I dragged in air that was too thick and poisoned now.

  “You made me wear a dog collar.”

  The mouth on me paused.

  “Yes.”

  Those arms slowly released me and I inched away from him so I could sit and face him. He raised himself up, his face emotionless.

  “You hurt me over and over, and you let him…” I clutched my head and groaned, even though it didn’t hurt. If anything, my mind felt free for the first time in forever.

  “Rachel.” His voice was firm. “You can deal with this later, but right now I need to know about the man who took you.”

  “He put a noose around my neck and I thought he was going to hang me. I was so scared.” I clawed my nails into my head. “No. That was you. I only remember you.” I started to cry, unattractive gulping sobs. “You did this to my head.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You did. You did it just to fuck with me again because it’s fun for you.” My voice was a raw wail as I clawed even harder at my scalp and rocked back and forth.

  “You think that I’d shoot up my own house?” he asked viciously.

  All I could do was scream and sob in response. He was speaking to me but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I was vaguely aware of him leaving the room, but all I continued to do was to make noise and rock. At some stage, I heard a female voice. It was the sour nurse and she took my arm.

  “This’ll calm you down, honey.” A needle went into my arm, my blue veins stood out clear under my sickening white skin.

  “Are you killing me?” I asked in a hoarse voice. I didn’t know if she was or not because everything seemed to fade away and I began to float.

  It was dark when I woke up. The moon was bright and full outside the bedroom windows, casting an eerie glow into the room. I pulled the sheet up to my body with tense hands as lay there curled up, my mind racing. I had been so pathetic, so scared all the time, and of what? I had been hurt so many times and survived every single time. Eventually, I prevailed, and that was what would happen here. No longer would I be a victim. No longer would I be a pawn. Just surviving was no longer an option. I had to be the winner.

  I sat up, groping for the switch for the lamp beside me.

  Aaron sat on the couch staring straight at me. He held a glass of amber liquor in his hand, resting it against his thigh. He didn’t move his eyes from me as he lifted the glass to his lips and drained it. With automatic motions, he grabbed the bottle beside him and filled the glass again, swishing it a little, before getting to his feet and making his way toward me.

  He was drunk. He lacked his usual animal-like grace as he walked slowly toward me and his eyes were glazed, the predatory intensity gone. He sat down and I moved my legs out of the way to avoid him trapping them.

  “You slept forever,” he commented before taking a sip of his drink. “Got those fucked up memories of yours back yet?”

  I lifted my chin. “I remember what you are. That’s all I need to know.” My tone was low and cold.

  He rolled his eyes. “I meant, do you remember anything useful?”

  There was still that fog on the edge of my mind that tormented me, because I knew that knowledge was right there, waiting to be unlocked.

  “I don’t know who hurt me, other than you.”

  “The doctor said it should all come back eventually. It’ll just take time.” He didn’t sound happy as he said that, and I twisted my lips into a cruel smile.

  “Are you pissed that I remembered what a psychotic freak you are? You sucked me in good, didn’t you? Playing the nice guy, seducing—”

  He laughed, it was hard and long, and his liquor sloshed out of the glass as his body shook with the noise. “That’s just like you to rewrite history in a way that suits you and makes you look lily white and the rest of the world is shit. I didn’t get my head cracked open like a fucking egg shell so I’m pretty sure that I remember correctly. You’re the one that tried to seduce me, manipulate me. Little miss screw-me-in-the-changing room,” he mocked. He reached out and wrapped his hand around my neck before I could react. I swallowed but didn’t cower or try to struggle, instead meeting his gaze head on with my narrowed eyes. “Although,” he continued, “I must admit, I liked it when you were being nice. It was refreshing not to have you as such a cold bitch all the time.”

  “That’s what you turned me into,” I spat. “You admitted it.”

  “Nah.” He released his hold on my neck, more interested in drinking, the fumes coming off of him were overpowering and made me want to wretch. “I said that I fucking broke you. The bitch inside you must have always been there. I probably just let her free.”

  I took a deep breath to stop myself from seething and snatched the glass from him. It spilt on the white bedcover leaving a gross brown stain. I smiled and laughed as I took a drink, watching his eyes go down to the stain in dismay that his spotless bedroom had been marked. The liquor made me cough and he snatched it back, draining it before shoving the glass down on the bedside table so it hit with a bang. He wiped his mouth clumsily before turning back to face me.

  “It was even better fucking you like that. You were all warm and moany. Oh, Aaron. Fuck me, fuck me,” he mimicked.

  “What about you? You were fucking drooling over me. You couldn’t get enough. I bet you loved it. You got to screw the girl you fucking love while she didn’t absolutely hate you!”

  We both froze at my words, then he barked out a laugh. “I don’t love you, Rachel,” he sneered. “You’re an obsession. That’s it.”

  “Obsession? Love? What’s the difference? How would someone like you have any inkling of what love is anyway?”

  He leaned in close. “You think that you’re any better than me? Honey, you are dysfunction with a capital D. You couldn’t be honest with anyone if you wanted to. All you know are lies and how to put walls up. You know one of the first times that I saw a picture of you? It was i
n that hokey small town newspaper after those two friends of yours died. They printed a photo of the three of you standing together. Your friends were smiling at the camera, and so were you, but your smile wasn’t real. It didn’t match your eyes and you were standing a little off to the side like you shouldn’t have been there, like you didn’t belong there. I could spot your fakeness from a mile off.”

  The mention of Mara and Torrance was like a punch, angering me even more. But I took a deep breath. I couldn’t let him get to me. I needed to harness my anger and remain in control. “Just for the record,” I said calmly. “I’m not broken. I’m stronger than ever before. I won’t lie and say that you didn’t have an impact on me, because we both know you did. In fact, I’ll give you credit for helping to shape me into what I am, but I’m done being that pathetic little girl that you seem to think that I am. In fact I’d love nothing more to show you what I’m capable of.”

  He stared at me for a moment, then burst out in laughter. “Is that supposed to be a threat, Rachel?”

  I swallowed and raised myself up. “Not at all, after all you already have one enemy who’s out for your blood.”

  His smile faded slightly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  It was my turn to laugh. “You know, the guy who shot up your house.”

  “So you do remember.”

  “No, not really. All I remember is that this was about you, not me. I was just collateral damage and he thought that by hurting me he’d hurt you. I told him it wouldn’t though…” I wasn’t even really sure how I knew this, it was like the fog had cleared just ever so slightly.

  “C’mon, Rachel. Think!” He reached over and grabbed my upper arms tightly, his fingers sinking painfully into my flesh.

  It took all my might not to wince as I met his eyes. “Get your fucking hands off of me,” I said. His eyes blazed with drunken fury and while part of me cowered, part of me wanted to see what he’d do next. I did not let my gaze waver.

  After a pause, he released me, bringing his hands back to his own body in a slow, controlled movement while I suppressed the urge to smile.

  “It is in your best interest to share every little bit of information with me, you understand that, Rachel?” he asked in a low voice that verged on menacing.

  “My name’s Paige.”

  “Your name is Rachel. You are my Rachel.”

  I saw his hand bunch into a fist and I barked out a short laugh. “Sometimes I really think that you’re insane.”

  I didn’t see his face when I said that, because he was walking back to get the bottle of scotch, filling his glass with steady hands. He returned to sit beside me, seemingly calmer now.

  “I’m not insane. I’m ruthless. There’s a difference.”

  “Whatever. You’re fucked up and scary,” I muttered wearily, my head beginning to hurt. I fell back onto the pillows and stared at the ceiling. Aaron’s shadow loomed larger than life above me and the bed dipped as he lay down next to me, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes.

  “No matter what you think of me. I always protect you, don’t I? When I got that phone call I came running, didn’t I?”

  “What phone call?”

  “The one made by the guy that took you. He was gone when we got there, and there was no attack made on us. It was just you tied to a concrete pole, your head smashed in, and you were so cold that I thought you were dead…”

  I turned to look at him as he trailed off, his eyes were closed. After a moment, I reached over and turned off the lamp. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to imagine that I were lying next to someone good, but no matter how I tried, I just couldn’t.

  Chapter Eleven

  Aaron sat in the corner of the living room while the doctor examined me, never taking his eyes from me in case he missed something.

  “It’s a good sign that some memories have returned. You should remember everything soon.” The man’s hands shook as he zipped up his case and I wondered what his addiction was. There was no way any respected medical professional would work for someone like him. They must all have secrets that Aaron could use to manipulate or coerce them into looking after me.

  “Thank you,” I told him as he left. He gave me a brief smile before letting his eyes dart nervously to Aaron. He ducked his head down and left the room quickly. I couldn’t blame him. Aaron often had that effect on me as well.

  Once it was just the two of us in the room I asked, “How much are you paying him?”

  Aaron uncrossed his arms and stood. “Enough. Only the best for you, sweetheart,” he said sarcastically.

  “If it was only the best for me, why not leave me in the hospital?”

  He sighed, irritability clear on his face. “Because I couldn’t protect you there. It was too hard with all the people around.”

  “Is here any better?” I waved my hand to indicate the glass surrounding us. “It’s like we’re in a fishbowl, just waiting to be shot at.”

  He frowned in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it taken care of.”

  “I do worry about it,” I said in a nasty tone. “I don’t trust you. I need to be responsible for myself and I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire next time someone tries to hurt you.”

  “Christ.” He roughly grabbed my arm and propelled me toward the window where I could glimpse the street outside beyond the iron gates. “You see that car there? He’s one of mine. There’s also someone on the beach side. This house is watched twenty-four seven. Not to mention the cameras and alarms. I won’t get caught out again, that’s a promise.” His jaw was stiff with determination. “But I won’t hide, Rachel. I’m no one’s bitch. I’ve worked hard for what I’ve got and no one is going to force me to run, ever.”

  I wrenched my arm free from his grip, unimpressed by his little speech. “I’m going for a swim.” I walked to the stairs to go and get changed, letting my clothes drop from me as I went, not caring who saw. I grabbed a white bikini from the closet and was just tying the strings of the top when I heard voices. At first I thought about ignoring them and heading straight to the pool, but then I recognized one as female which peaked by interest. I rounded the corner into the entrance way.

  The interloper was that Azalea woman, bright against the pale walls and tiles in her red dress and her fancy hair. She held a bag out to Aaron. “I thought that these might suit her.” She had a friendly smile on her made-up face as she beamed at him.

  “Thanks, I appreciate you going out of your way for us,” he told her as he took the bag from her, all charm and smiles.

  “You’re welcome. I was wanting to see that you were all right and,” she bit her lip nervously, “well, I really just wanted an excuse to see you. I know that you’ve got your hands full with her but can’t you just make a little bit of time for me? Can’t I see you again?” The begging tone in her voice didn’t seem natural in someone so elegant and self-assured. It was as if she had been stripped naked and forced to her knees on the cold tile. It was good to know that Aaron could disarm even the most apparently together of women, not just the fucked up ones like me.

  She didn’t hear my bare feet on my tile, but I knew that Aaron sensed my presence, like he always did. His head came up slightly and his shoulders tensed.

  “Oh, Aaron’s got plenty of time,” I announced as I made my way over to them. Azalea’s head snapped up, eyes widening with surprise before recovering and reinstalling that cold look she always had. She didn’t even bother with a fake smile at me. I slid my arm around Aaron’s waist, letting my hand delve under the bottom of his t-shirt so that I could feel his skin as I rubbed my fingers along the muscle of his abs, lifting it just so she could see. “He’s always got time for beautiful women. Why don’t you stay for a drink?”

  Her mouth opened and then she closed it again, unsure what to say.

  “I’m sure she’s busy,” Aaron said dryly. “Anyway, aren’t you going for a swim?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t realize that we woul
d have company. Come on, Azalea. Join us for a drink. I promise I won’t hurt anyone,” I lied. “Scout’s honor.”

  I could see the torn look in her eyes. She had an obsession also and she was weighing up whether it was worth putting up with me just so she could spend a bit of time with this man that she so desired.

  “Come on, Aaron can pour the drinks.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her along, hiding a smile when she teetered unsteadily on her heels. I was shorter than her and near naked in my skimpy bikini, but I felt like I had all the power.

  “Have a seat,” I told Azalea, gesturing toward the couch. She sat, adjusting her skirt, and for a moment she was so bright against the pale that she hurt my eyes. But I shook my head and then it was okay, it must have just been my head injury that made everything appear so painful.

  “What do you like to drink?” I asked her. “Merlot or a Cabernet Sauvignon?” Antony always supplied the wine from his restaurant contacts, teaching me to pronounce the names just right.

  “She only likes white wine,” Aaron said as he passed me, heading for the wine refrigerator.

  And just how do you know that? I didn’t let my smile drop, even when I saw Azalea’s own mouth slide into a smile, her gaze on him like they shared something special as he passed her a glass of icy cold Chardonnay that appeared too light and pale in color for someone like her. She needed brightness to match her color and her personality.

  “What’s this?” I reached for the bag that Aaron had left resting on a side table.

  “They’re some outfits from the store. Aaron said you wanted color so…”

  “He’s always so thoughtful,” I muttered as I reached in to pull out the first little package that was wrapped in tissue paper. As I pulled it free, the tissue fluttered to the ground and I was left with a yellow summer dress in my hands. I held it up to examine it; the cotton garment had spaghetti straps and a short skirt. “Pretty.”