“I don’t know. I need to talk it over with Carter when he’s calmed down.”
“Millions! You lost millions because of me.”
“I couldn’t care less about the money.” He scoffs. “Nothing is worth more to me than having you here, safe, with me.”
“But still…” I blow out a controlled breath. “That’s life changing kind of money.”
“Not for Carter. That’s just a drop in the ocean, but he was hoping it was the start of things to come. Big lucrative deals with a new supplier. Doesn’t look like that’s an option now,” he says, lifting his brows. “Who was the psycho that saved us?”
“That was Helena. She was his first captive. She lives and works for him. Harlan told me she was besotted by him. She’d lived that life for so long that she didn’t have anywhere to go. She didn’t want to leave him.”
He nods his head slowly. “Hmmm… like Stockholm syndrome,” he says with a quick lift of his brow. “I wonder what made her snap?”
“Who knows? Maybe she’d been waiting all that time for revenge. Maybe she wasn’t as besotted as Harlan thought.” I say, sinking at the thought of leaving Harlan behind. Guilt is a funny thing. It stings and eats away at your gut. Although I didn’t technically do anything wrong, I’m not sure my conscience will allow me to think I did the right thing.
“Don’t worry,” he says, hooking his forefinger under my chin and tilting my head back. “Everything will work out just fine.”
“I’m worried about Harlan, Brax. I can’t explain why; I just feel bad. Like I didn’t do enough to make sure he was okay. I left him there to deal with the fallout of what happened. And I shouldn’t have.”
He pulls his brows together; his eyes narrow in on me. “Did he help you get away from that monster, Izzy? I know you said he helped, but helping would have been getting you away from the torture and abuse, not helping you feel okay after the fucker did what he did to you.”
I breathe in, the pressure in my chest building as I feel something like protectiveness toward Harlan. “You don’t understand,” I say with a heavy sigh, my shoulders falling forward. “You weren’t there, you don’t know what it was like.”
“You’re right,” he grumbles, pressing his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. “I’m not gonna pretend I have the first fucking clue what it was like, or what happened to you. But I ain’t gonna lie either. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You shouldn’t have been there and by doing nothing that makes him a fucking accomplice in my mind.”
“You killed two men. That makes you a murderer in my mind.” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest as the annoyance burns deep down in the pit of my stomach.
“I am,” he says gruffly. “And they’re not the only fuckers I’ve killed who deserved to have the air sucked from their motherfucking lungs.”
“What?” I screech, my hand pressed against my chest as I try to steady not only my thudding heart, but the sick that I feel rising. “You’ve killed more than those guys?” I stammer, throwing my arm out as I try to process what this means.
“I have, and I’m not ashamed to admit who I am. Do I like it? No, not one fucking bit. But this life that was thrown at me, the path that I’ve taken, just kinda spiraled out of control. I fought for everything, Izzy,” he says, dropping to his knees in front of me, reaching for my hands. I snap them back, confused about who Brax really is, and how much I actually know about him. The confusion is messing with my head and making me sick to my stomach.
“I fought for you. I fought for Travis. I mean really fucking fought for him, and I would have given my life in exchange for his. But I couldn’t fight hard enough to save him. Do you have any idea how that has affected me in here,” he taps his chest with a clenched fist. “I’m only human, Izzy. I crashed and fell down and completely fell apart when the two people I love were lost. I was lost. So fucking lost. A part of me died that day. I was a walking soulless boy.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching out to him with a shaking hand.
“Carter saved me that day. The day we went searching for you.”
“Me? You were looking for me?”
“Yes,” he mumbles. “Stupid, I know, considering I had no idea where you were.”
I let my eyes slowly fall shut, my chest heaving as I try to take a deep breath.
“Trav couldn’t keep up with me and I was annoyed. I dropped my bike and ran back to him and started shouting. Like a fucking jerk. I was annoyed at him. That’s when he suddenly fell to the ground and I had no idea why. I couldn’t work out what had happened, but there was blood. So much blood.” He retells the story of that day and I tremble as I sit silently listening to him. “We worked out that he’d been shot, the blood pouring down his back, and we panicked. I sped back to my bike, but before I could get back to him, three guys were dragging him away from the side of the road and into the woods. I fought them Izzy. I tried, but I was a boy compared to them.”
Tears fall onto my crossed legs, his head is down and his eyes never meet mine. I choke back the emotion as he continues to replay that day.
“They shot him again while holding me back. He started to fade and all I could do was watch him dying.”
His words hurt me more than any torture I’ve had inflicted on me. This pain is different. It isn’t superficial, it’s raw, and it’s deep. My emotions ravage me on the inside, a mixture of pure rage and indescribable pain.
“Why, Brax? Why would anyone do that?”
He shakes his head from side to side.
“That wasn’t the end,” he mutters, sniffling as he runs his hand under his nose. “They made me watch.” His voice is low and so quiet I struggle to hear him. “They um, they held back his head, and um, cut his throat.” He chokes out, his hand covering his mouth as he jumps to his feet and races out of the room. I break down, choking on my own sobs that I can’t control. Tears stream down my face and I reach up, grabbing my hair and pulling it tightly. I don’t know why, maybe I hoped it would help.
“No,” I scream, falling back on the bed, my ears zoning in on the heaving sound coming from the adjoining bathroom. I sit up, sliding off the bed and standing on my shaky legs. Hearing what happened to Travis is horrendous, but to have been there, to have seen it and to have been helpless must be a million times worse. I have to be there for him. I shuffle my feet as fast as I can, resting and taking deep breaths when I reach the doorframe. “Brax,” I call out, taking a step closer and falling by his side. His muscular back is arched as his body contracts, emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
“I’m here, Brax. I’m here.” I try to soothe him, rubbing my palm across his back. “I’m sorry you had to relive that.”
He lifts his head, shooting me a sympathetic look. He wraps his arm around my back, dragging me into an embrace. “It’s not something I ever wanted to have to tell you. I miss him,” he says before resting his head against my shoulder. “I’d give anything to bring him back.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I know.”
I sit on the cold tiled floor on my knees, comforting him, as he comforts me.
“You got away, though, right?”
“Yeah, Carter saw the bikes at the side of the road and heard the screams. He walked in and saw the devastation and took out the three guys. I ran from him at first, scared I’d get caught in the crossfire, but he came after me. Told me he wanted to help. And he did.”
“Wow,” I gasp, unable to believe that Carter could ever have done something so selfless.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “He took me under his wing because I didn’t want to go home. I slept under the tree for days because I knew my mom wouldn’t understand, let alone care about what had happened. I laid there, Izzy. For hours and hours. I cried, heartbreaking, traumatized tears. But he cared. He was the only person that seemed to understand. I pretty much lived with him and his father. They were good to me. Really fucking good. Even though he was part of this notorious, criminal f
amily. Slowly but surely, I fell into their ways, their lifestyle. Fuck, he was like the big brother I’d always wanted, and I owed him my life.”
I nod, understanding why he’s become the man he is. Why he was led into this life of crime.
“They say everything happens for a reason,” I breathe out, taking his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. “If you weren’t working with him, you would never have been there yesterday. You saved me, Brax. You saved my life.”
“I can’t change who I am,” he breathes out, his breaths shallow and his eyes hollow. “I just hope you can accept me for the person I’ve become.”
“I want you, Brax. It’s really that simple.”
And it is. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be than here with him.
I didn’t want to put it off any longer. I need some kind of closure. I need to say my own goodbye, even if years have already passed by. We walk down hand in hand, stopping just in front of the headstone. I crash to the ground, flowers in my hand, tears streaming down my face.
“I’m so sorry,” I cry out, my eyes dripping with tears. My walls, the walls that hold me up, that make me strong just collapse. Moment by moment, they fall. Salty drops fall from my chin, drenching my top. Perhaps these tears will help wash out the pain. I press my hand against the headstone trying to steady myself. I'm trembling. I can't stop. Even as I press my hand against the cold stone, it shakes, it trembles. It's raw. Everything. Raw tears, raw emotions. I can't stop the sobs that punch through, ripping through my muscles, bones, and guts.
“Baby,” Brax kneels beside me, pulling me into his arms. I let it all go. The tears don’t stop, my chest heaves uncontrollably as I sob into his chest. He holds me tight, reaching into the hollowness of that moment. My sobs slow, the tears no longer falling as he cradles me in his arms like a child. “I got you,” he soothes; his voice tight and full of his own emotion.
“I just never imagined this,” I stammer. “All I ever thought was how bad things were for me. I had no idea that even though you had freedom, you were suffering too.”
“Everything has changed, Izzy. The only thing that is the same is our connection. Our love for one another. That’s what we need to hold onto.”
I grab onto the front of his t-shirt, pulling his lips against mine. He’s the medicine I need to make this all better. He has the ability to numb my pain, a pain I don’t think I’d survive without him.
“I love you, Brax” I say, my heart thundering in my chest, my swollen, stinging eyes burning into his.
A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “What?” I ask, wondering what he’s looking so smug about.
“You. Those words,” he says with an even wider smile, “It means everything to me. I feel alive.”
“Good,” I say, with a fleeting kiss on his lips.
“We should go see your mom,” he says with a slight tilt of his head.
I nod, tears well in my eyes once more. “Just give me a minute, yeah?” I ask, my head jolting in the direction of Travis’ final resting place.
He squeezes my neck, getting up and slowly walking away. “I’ll be just over here,” he instructs, pointing to his bike. I smile, acknowledging him before turning my attention back to the grave. I neatly place the flowers I’d been clutching in my hand in the pots beside the headstone.
“I’ll never forget you,” I whisper, so quietly that only I can hear. “Your silly smile, your sensitive heart. All of it. I will remember it all. But most of all Travis, I’ll remember the times we shared together. You, me and Brax. The three amigos,” I wipe away a stray tear while blowing out a puff of laughter. “I know you’re listening; you were always such a good listener. You didn’t deserve to die.” I choke out, my hand covering my mouth as I gasp for a breath. “No, I won’t cry anymore. I’m going to celebrate the times we had together, not mourn. You wouldn’t want that,” I say, straightening my back and pressing the tips of my fingers against my tear-soaked lips. I kiss them gently before placing my hand against the headstone.
“I’ll come back. I promise.”
Standing, I look one last time before turning and making my way over to Brax who’s leaning back against the seat of his bike. “Okay?” he asks with worry in his eyes.
“I’m okay,” I feign a smile, dragging my hands across my face to clear the salty tears from my cheeks. “I have a feeling this will be the first of many,” I laugh nervously, reaching for the helmet Brax hands me.
I jump on the back of the bike and we set off down the familiar roads. As we get closer to the house I’d called home for so long, I catch a sob rising in my throat.
Brax pulls up right outside the front porch, the grass is overgrown and the house looks the worst I’ve ever seen it.
“Does Mom’s boyfriend, Nick, still live here?” I ask nervously, throwing my leg over the bike, removing the helmet.
He shakes his head. “He’s not been around for years,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me toward his chest. “I just want you to be prepared,” he lets out a slow controlled breath. “I’m not sure what she will say, or how much of it will be true. She’s fucked with my head a thousand times already.”
“I guess we just have to see what she has to say.” I storm forward, ready to knock the shit out of the door. But I don’t get chance. It swings open and Mom rushes at me, wrapping her arms around my limp body.
“Oh, my baby. It’s you,” she pushes back, gripping my shoulders as her eyes rake over my face. “It’s really you.”
“It’s me,” I smile, looking at the evidence of age creeping in. Mom was always pretty, but in quite an ordinary way. She never wore makeup or did much with her hair, but as a child, she was always beautiful in my eyes.
“My God, come in,” she says, grabbing my hand and tugging it. I look warily over my shoulder to see Brax right behind me.
“I’m here, baby.” He winks, giving me a nod as Mom leads me inside.
“Sit down,” Mom rushes out. “How are you? Oh, what a stupid question,” she laughs nervously, sitting on the table in front of me. I look around the room and I’m pretty sure nothing has changed. The same décor, the same furniture, only now it looks tired and dated.
I look straight at her, desperate to find some answers as to why she didn’t look for me. But I can’t. The words feel like they are stuck in my throat. Brax sits beside me and I notice the look of disgust she gives him. I can’t help but feel protective toward him. I rest my hand on his knee as I hitch forward, positioning myself closer to her, hoping I’ll find the right words.
“I had no idea he’d taken you.” She sniffles, digging into her oversized, ill-fitting jeans and pulling out a tissue. She dabs her nose, her eyes fixed on me as she waits for me to say something.
“Why weren’t you bothered, Mom. Why didn’t you file a missing person’s report?”
“I, uh, I…I genuinely thought you’d left with him. You were a difficult teenager, never wanted to be at home, so I presumed you really did leave with him.”
I shake my head, my nostrils flaring. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe that any decent parent would just accept and give up as easily as you did.”
She adjusts her posture, straightening her back as she moves away from me. “I was devastated when you left. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.” Her eyes dart to Brax and then back to me.
“What exactly is your problem with Braxton?” I glare at her intently; the one person who actually did save me, the one person who tried isn’t to blame here. “You do realize he was the one who saved me?”
“And I’m thankful he brought you home,” she smiles. “But you do know who you’re dealing with, right?” She looks at Brax with furrowed brows. “You’ve been honest, Brax. You’ve told my daughter what a murderous criminal you are, right?”
“Don’t you dare,” I snarl. “I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for him. You really don’t care about me at all, do you?”
“Of course, I do,”
she exhales loudly.
“But you just want to divert the attention, don’t you? Take all eyes off you and how you failed me as a mother.”
“I never said I was perfect. Damn, I’ve done things I regret. But I really was upset that you’d left. Did I challenge your decision to leave? No.”
“I didn’t leave,” I scream, standing up from the couch. “Dad took me. He kept me locked up for years. The only reason I got out was because he had a damn heart attack. But it’s clear to see. You didn’t look for me. In fact, I bet you thought it was a relief.”
“Why are you doing this?” She grumbles. “Why can’t you just move on and allow us to work on having a relationship?”
I scoff loudly. “So, the one person who shouldn’t have given up on me, couldn’t find it within her to look for me, huh? But I should just forget it and move on.”
“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and clearly you need therapy…”
“Don’t fucking patronize me,” I scream, my glare on her is hard. “I don’t fucking need you, or your bullshit in my life anymore.” I roll my hand into fists so tight that my nails dig into my own skin. An uncontrollable wave of heat courses through me, my heart hammering as the anger, hurt and disappointment is all I can feel.
I have to get out of here.
The pain is making it hard to breathe and I can no longer fight my need to run. So, I do. I turn as fast as I can, hauling open the wooden door. My feet pick up speed, one foot after the other as I race away from the house and down the overgrown path at the side of the house. My heart pounds so powerfully I can feel it in my neck. In fact, it feels like my neck is tightening on me, like the air is being sucked from my lungs as I race at a speed I didn’t even know was possible.
“Izzy…” I hear the voice faintly in the distance. Even though I want to stop, I just can’t. The emotion inside is ravaging me, controlling everything right now.
The complete scars series: Books one-four Page 19