Unmarked: Sean's Story (Chosen #4)

by Alisa Mullen

  My cell phone buzzed from my jeans on the floor and I turned to see if I could grab at them. Aoife turned over to face the other side and that’s when I saw the other half of her marks. All up and down and across were slash marks, scarred over and over again. I couldn’t figure out what the weapon was as I traced each one with my fingers but it was something small. It had to have hurt when they did it to her. There was no fucking way she could have cut herself on her back.

  “I want to learn how to kick a guy in the balls,” I remembered her saying as we walked to Maverick’s every day we went this week. She was all business while I, the biggest dumbass in world history, got my rocks off on watching her little ass wiggle in those yoga pants.

  My cell phone buzzed again, indicating there was a voicemail. I grabbed it and saw that Lizzie had called and left a message. Lizzie. This had to be what she was talking about. Had Freddie ever seen her scars? A person only had to see one to know that something wasn’t right.

  I bypassed the message and got out of bed. I left the bedroom as the phone started ringing.

  “Sean?” Lizzie answer was pleasant. She didn’t sound mad or hurt. Same old Lizzie O’Malley. Tough as nails.

  “Hey, Lizzie,” I said on an exhale. For some reason, it felt good to talk to my friend.

  “Did she tell you about her father?” she asked. I could tell she was holding her breath. But she knew I knew in the way I answered her call.

  “Basically,” I said.

  “It’s really messed up, Sean. It isn’t a good scene.”

  “Yeah. I know. But Lizzie, I have feelings for her. Like, I think she might be the one.” I chewed on my thumb as I waited for her advice. She was always willing to dish it and so I waited. And waited.

  Nothing.

  “You have absolutely nothing to say, Lizzie? Come on! Think of all the God damn times I was there for you,” I basically growled into the phone.

  “Yeah, no. I am here. I am trying to process what you said. It’s a little hard to hear. It sort of feels like I am reliving the whole Teagan thing. I fell hard just so he could leave, you know? She has to go home, Sean. She doesn’t live in this country.”

  There was a lot of silence again. It was comfortable though. We were both trying to find a solution for me to be with Aoife? For me to be happy? Fuck, I wasn’t happy now – just learning what I did about the damage to her body. I would kill that motherfucker with my own hands.

  “How about we do a double date tomorrow night? I will get the kids to do sleepovers and the four of us can go to the North End for pasta and cannolis, like old times.” She offered, sounding hopeful.

  One day at a time thinking? Or did she want to bear witness to the disaster that was Sean and Aoife?

  “Yeah, sure. I am sure Aoife will be cool with it,” I answered. “We will meet you at your place at seven. Have your millionaire boy toy get a good reservation.”

  Lizzie busted out laughing. “I wish. Do you know what marriage does to boys?”

  I shook my head. Did I want to know?

  “Tomorrow at seven,” I stated.

  “Just take it easy, Sean. You guys have plenty of time to figure it out, okay? We will see you guys tomorrow.”

  We clicked off and I hung my head. I threw my phone on the table next to the whisky bottle and headed back to bed where I tucked every part of Irish’s body into mine.

  Sometime later that night, I woke up to a stifled sob. A whimper and then a clear hit to my groin as Aoife’s whole body writhed in pain. It was unnatural and as I tried to grab on to what was happening, I shot straight up in obvious pain. She hadn’t gotten a full on good knee jab in but it physically impaired me for a few lasting minutes. I took ragged breaths to calm the pain and looked over to find Aoife was still twisting and turning. The perspiration coming off her skin smelled of flowers and whisky. Her short curls stuck to the back of her neck as she tried to grip at the covers, the pillow, anything that she could.

  “Sean, baby. I love you. I miss you, love. It is me and you for always,” she whimpered out. She repeated those sentiments over and over as I sat there stunned, just watching her. Her dream, no, her nightmare was ripping her apart and I was the ass face that was just watching.

  A lump formed in my throat as I thought about the night we had just shared and what she had showed me. Did she think I would leave because of her welts and scars? No fucking way. I was mystified and grabbed on to that fast acting bond she and I had. Obviously, it was affecting her because she was subconsciously thinking of it in nightmares. I wanted to be happy that she felt the same way but I just couldn’t. She was acting like it was a traumatic event, a relationship that was meant to be broken. My chest ached.

  I pulled her close to me with all of my strength. I put my lips right into her ear.

  “Baby. Aoife. I love you, too. You are okay. You and I are together now. Please don’t be sad. I have no regrets. No regrets.”

  Her body went limp against mine and her breath returned to a normal resting sleep pattern.

  “No regrets,” I soothed to her over and over again as I, too, fell back into a deep sleep.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Aoife

  Something bloody awful had died inside of my mouth. I cracked my eye open and my head felt like it was full of bombs, going off one after another. It was tragic. Movement startled me and I realized I wasn’t in my bed alone.

  I pressed two fingers to my head as I tried to remember when Sean came to see me. Oh, God, did I ring him drunk and beg him to come to the city? I was that pissed drunk? I groaned and tried to turn over when I realized I was only in my bra and nothing else.

  Fuck. Shit. Bloody damn.

  He had seen me. I remembered taking off my shirt and yelling at him to either love it or leave it. Oh, and the phone call with my da. Bloody fuck – he sounded worse than I had ever heard him. An ocean couldn’t stop the fear he instilled in me. I wasn’t sending money fast enough. I had wired some money on Thursday during lunch time but apparently it wasn’t enough for his whisky. I had paid the rent for our dump of an apartment for three months so I knew he wouldn’t have to leave. Explaining to Da that I had some money come from a scholarship through school was terrible. He didn’t know I had an account on the side that he would never know about.

  “Aoife, you stupid girl. You know we can’t live on what you sent this week,” he had slurred. Spit always found its way out of his mouth when he spoke. If his reddened face and greasy white hair wasn’t enough of a clue that he was a bloody drunk, you could watch him talk with saliva pouring everywhere.

  If I had been home, I probably would have picked the belt myself. It was my choice when he decided I hadn’t done enough for the family, had let me believe that my mam had died because she had to watch over me instead of going to the doctor. I wasn’t sure that it was my entire fault but I knew that when he was done, he would calm and wouldn’t take out his anger on anyone else. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if the town saw his evilness, too.

  I was not a fan of the knife anymore. The small blade he walked around with was becoming dull and it took three or four times for him to actually cut the skin. I didn’t scream anymore. I did try to run. Every time, I tried to run. He was so big. He was very tall and almost fat. My mam had been a tiny thing and I don’t know how she had lived with his abuse as long as she did.

  Actually, I did know. I was loyal no matter what. Mam taught me that I was a care giver. I would do whatever I had to do to make my home as loving as possible. Family was everything back home but it was always an uphill battle. After a few nice moments on the phone with my big man, I tried to tell Da that was all the money I could send but that next week I would send more. I started to take shots of whisky when I dialed the phone. By the end of the conversation, we were both piss drunk. That was obvious when Sean walked in.

  Da had said Nigel had been over to the apartment looking for me and was able to throw some money at him for whatever. Nigel made sure to men
tion that I “owed” him when I went back. I thought about his bad breath and the sweat he left on my body after he got up off of me. I suppose I didn’t want to tell Nigel I was leaving Ireland because I didn’t want him to think he could get more for the measly seventy five Euros that already paid me. I was so glad when I met Freddie at the airport. It felt like I could become another person – if only for three months.

  Freddie knew about my da through his brother. He was, unfortunately, a close friend of Nigel’s. They were so different and I still didn’t understand how they got alone. Nevertheless, Freddie knew of us. Fuck, everyone in the Greystones of us and the Council Estate drama. The young girl or cailin that did just about anything – or anyone – for her Da. “She’s a good girl, very loyal to family,” they would say.

  Wicklow was half poor and half not so poor. I loved my town, my country, my Irish heritage and I would love it until I was dead in the ground. I was growing very tired of living there but I wouldn’t leave unless I knew that my family was okay and could live happily. When we started on our trip to America, Freddie saw my healing bruise on my hip when I slipped into the seat next to him on the airplane. By the end of the flight, he had tried to tell me about a girl he had known that was homeless on the streets and preferred it to staying at her house with her drunken father. I said nothing because even Freddie didn’t know how deep my loyalties and my secrets went.

  When I had asked if he would get her out of the house, he shook his head and said it wasn’t his business and just wanted me to know that I wasn’t alone. But I knew I wasn’t. Everyone in the council estates would do anything to get money. They were the last choice of living under a warm and dry roof, after all. If you got kicked out of the estates, the streets became your home. I couldn’t even imagine my da on the streets. It scared me. It terrified me. And that’s why I wouldn’t leave. If I could help, I would. But again, I was so fucking tired.

  Now I was lying in the bed naked with Sean who could only assume what had happened to me and I had to let him assume. I couldn’t choose. There was no choice. I fell in love with Sean and America, but Ireland had my heart from a long, long time ago.

  When he saw the scars the other day, I hoped he thought I did them to myself. Now that my back was turned to him, he had to know it wasn’t me making the marks. Would I have to explain? Would he understand that it was my life back home and even though I knew it wasn’t right, I couldn’t bring myself to leave my family all alone? My da would die and I knew it would be because of me. We were the only people who looked out for one another no matter how much of a bastard he was.

  I loved my da, but I wanted to live my life on my own. I felt like I had since I was nineteen years old. My da stopped being a parent and became another child in the family. I became the parent. It was what it was. I accepted that every day.

  When I went to grab my shirt, Sean grabbed me instead and put his body on mine. He was so warm and soft. I had fallen in love with him and I felt badly that he didn’t know who I really was underneath the clothes. I stopped short from that thought. Hadn’t he said he was in love with me last night?

  A small smile crept over my face and I snuggled back into him and exhale the breath I had been holding. Sean Ford was in love with me, even though I was all marked up.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sean

  Aoife obviously didn’t remember ripping her shirt off last night or the screaming dream that I was still reeling from. She woke up frantic that her shirt was off. I soothed her into coming back into my arms. I told her I had seen it all the night before and it didn’t make a difference if there was a shirt on or not, I knew that the gashes and cut scars were there. She couldn’t hide them from me anymore.

  “You told me you were in love with me,” she whispered.

  I smiled. “After you told me you were in love with me.”

  “I did not.” Aoife rebutted sarcastically. She was being playful. It was a welcomed relief after the magnitude of the mind fuck I had witnessed the night before.

  “You didn’t what? You didn’t tell me or you didn’t fall in love with me?” I chuckled. Aoife was perfectly sweet this morning. She was frisky, comfortable, and so fucking soft to rub against. I imagined lying here all day alone and together like this.

  “Can we not get out of bed today?” She asked as she turned her head to look at me.

  “Yes, please. All day?”

  She sighed contentedly and as I felt the soft unmarked parts of her skin, I debated with myself if I should move my hands to normal places a couple would hold. Her stomach, her breasts, and fuck – her back. Would I ever be able to give her a back massage without hurting her either physically or emotionally?

  “Do the scars hurt?” I whispered in her ear.

  “No,” she faintly answered. “Sean, you can touch me. You have seen them. You obviously know that I didn’t do them to myself. I can feel you tensing a bit and I don’t like that. I want you to see and touch and be with all of me. I trust you, baby. I trust that you will be gentle with me.”

  Something lodged itself in my throat and I couldn’t swallow or cough or even clear my throat. I never thought anyone would ever say those words to me. They were so raw and full of unconditional acceptance. The words “I love you” had nothing on “I trust you” and “I want you to see everything that I am.” I placed my hand on her ass and squeezed, if only to lighten the mood for now. She giggled. I chuckled.

  Those words rang through the air all around us as our laughter fell into silence.

  Touch me.

  Trust you.

  “I was the first person to say it last night,” I playfully lied as the palm of my hand found the middle of her small stomach. I used light brush strokes with the pads of my fingers.

  Her hand reached back and softly rubbed the arm that loved on her belly. I heard the smile in her voice when she told me that she knew I was the one to say I was in love first. She was very fucking playful. I flipped her on to her back and held my weight over hers.

  “Now show me how you would get me off you,” I growled down at her. I kissed her quickly and then back up I went to wait for her move. She wrapped her arms around my neck with a flirty smile and I fell for it. I didn’t think she was going to play but she somehow used my neck to make her force of balance. She took one leg, wrapped it around one of mine so fast, and twisted her body, nearly elbowing me in the jaw – which I knew she would have done were I her assailant.

  I fell to my side and watched her twist back around to face me with the biggest smile on her face. She had done it. I wondered if I had been too easy on her. Next time, I would hold on to her harder because the moment she got back to Ireland, I wouldn’t be there to protect her.

  “I am proud of you,” I said with admiration in my eyes. She lit up even more and her fingers found the black design on my neck and started to trace over them.

  “There are so many fucking cruel people in the world,” she said as she continued to only look at her fingers tracing.

  “There are a lot of bad people,” I agreed and put my lips on to her forehead. I didn’t kiss her; I just let them lay there, as if I could draw the knowledge, her history out of her mind into my mouth. I wanted to understand more. Every time I felt I was getting closer to her truths, it left me feeling confused about her complete life’s picture.

  “Do you think there are enough good people in the world to balance out all the evil?” She whispered.

  I pulled back and tipped her chin up to so she would look into my eyes. “For every awful person in the world, there has to be two people that are genuinely good to the core. You, Aoife, count as one of the good. I am one of the good. So, together, we can cancel out whatever evil person you need to be gone.”

  She quickly inhaled. She knew I knew what all the scars meant. Did she think I would just say nothing? No, I wouldn’t come out and ask. Whoever it was – wasn’t even in the country. I couldn’t do a damn thing about her past but the future of Aoife Flanagan
was still up in the air. I wanted to be her future and if I couldn’t be, I wanted her to absolutely know that who we were this summer would always stay with her. She could battle because of the amazing magic she and I shared once upon a time. I know I would use the strength of knowing her this summer to take life more seriously. I would be more cautious with my heart. I would be a better friend. I wouldn’t expect people to change.

  I wished that Aoife would change everything about her, including her nationality, to be with me. We could be us forever. We could negate evil everywhere we went just from our bond to one another. I was a friggin’ hypocrite.

  Her mouth found the tattoos that she had just traced. Her tongue flicked out and started to lick all the sensitive areas. I felt her relax as my body tensed. I went completely stiff and needed her so bad. I needed her to wrap around me, protect me, and love me so hard that she would even shelter me from the future heartbreak she would leave in her wake. I flicked her bra off and teased her nipples as I started to groan. I pulled her neck up and my lips swallowed hers in the deepest, most amazing kiss I had ever experienced.

  I felt her hands moving down my chest and abdomen. She found me and whimpered into the kiss as her reaction to how much I needed her. My briefs were pulled down and her small hand found me. My breathing got too heavy to keep kissing her. I pulled away and looked at her with fierce, animalistic desire. Her expression was equally intense. I pulled her panties off and flipped her under me.

  The first thrust was beyond anything I ever felt. I loved this girl. She was like coming home. I squeezed my eyes shut so that she wouldn’t see how much this was affecting me. The touch on my cheek bones prompted me to open them. She was looking up at me in complete admiration. Her absolutely naked body – scarred and ripped – met my complete marked up naked body. We were right and I showed her with every push, every grunt, and every look of venerability I had in me. And she was right there with me. Right. There. We came together silently. The sense of sight was more powerful than I ever realized it to be. Noises were inconsequential compared to the look she gave me as her eyes fluttered and she fought against closing them so they could remain on mine.