The complete scars series: Books one-four

by Tonks, Rachael

  “Well I’d say this place is like Fort Knox! To be honest, in your line of work, I’m not sure why you haven’t had this before.”

  “Never felt the need,” I say with a lift and sag of my shoulders.

  “Oh,” she blurts out as if suddenly remembering something. “Your cell phone. It rang a couple of times.”

  “Shit.” I almost growl, racing through into the kitchen, grabbing it from the countertop. I relax a little when I see Jeffries’ name on the screen. I hit the button, instantly returning his call. I slowly walk toward the stairs, trying to give Tara a wide berth. “Jeffries,” I say, when he answers the call.

  “Brax,” he replies, “what a pleasant surprise it was to hear from you.”

  “Listen, I can’t discuss this here. Let’s meet. Your place, say seven p.m.?”

  “Alone?” he asks, his tone low as if he’s trying not to be heard.

  “Yes, I’ll be alone.”

  “Until later then.” He ends the call and I push my phone into my jeans. I turn, and to my surprise see Tara standing behind me.

  “If you’re just here to spy on me, you know where the door is,” I snap, bustling past her as I go downstairs. I stop suddenly, wondering whether she came here because she was told to.

  “Wait.” I glare at her. “Did he put you up to this?”

  She crosses her arms, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “You think I’m working for my asshole cousin? Believe it or not, I actually agree with you. I don’t understand why he has sat back and done nothing. I don’t get it. He’s calculated, yet impulsive. He doesn’t let shit like this go. The Carter I know would have handled this by now. So, tell me. What’s really going on with you and Jeffries?”

  “I need them on my side. I need backup, and some fucker with a reason to stand by my side and fuck shit up with Alvrez.”

  She squints at me a little. “Really? Jeffries? You have to be freaking kidding me.” She drops down on the top step, her fingers tapping against her leg. “You have men working for you. Use them. Don’t involve the Savages.”

  “I have to. Our men are loyal to Carter. He’s pulled the strings for so long that it would be fucked up to ask them, especially since I walked out on Carter and our partnership. I have to do this alone, but I also need the fucking manpower when it comes to taking Alvrez down. With the thought of getting the drugs they had expected, and the fucking money, I just know they’ll work with me. The Savages are only loyal to their own kind. They owe nothing to Carter.”

  “But that guy,” she rushes out, a shudder rippling through her. “You killed him,” she says in a hushed voice, as if she’s scared someone will hear.

  “I did. And I don’t regret it for a moment, but no one needs to know about that. If they were going to find out, or work out what happened that night, then they would have done it by now.”

  “I just don’t want them to turn on you. Are you sure you can really trust them?”

  “I trust no fucker. That’s how you get yourself killed. But I have to do something, Tara. I have to save her, or at least fucking try.”

  She allows her eyes to flutter shut with a small nod of her head. “I get it, Brax. You have to fight for the one you love.”

  “I guess I owe you an apology.”

  “What… for being a complete asshole?” She bursts out laughing, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  “I can’t help myself.” I look at her sitting on my step and a pang of guilt spears through me as I think back to how I treated her, despite how good she’s been to me. “You know I never meant to…”

  She cuts me off, holding the palm of her hand to me. “You don’t need to explain, I get it. Let’s not make things awkward, huh? I know the deal, but I’m here because I care. As friends, of course.”

  I walk up the few steps, rubbing her on the top of her head, her hair messing as I do.

  “Hey,” she calls out, knocking my hand away.

  “I’m gonna rest some more before my meeting later.”

  “You need me to come along?”

  I laugh loudly, my eyes wide as I look at her, a little stunned by her stupidity. “No fucking way. It’s too dangerous, not to mention what happened last time.”

  “But I could help. I can sweeten the old guy up. You know he has a thing for me…”

  “No,” I roar, cutting her off. “I’m not risking your safety. Never. Too many people have already been hurt.”

  “Stop, Brax. Just let me help you. You know it makes sense. I’m a smart cookie. This can work if you’ll let me.” I look at the stubborn look on her face. I don’t know if I can trust her, but she’s convincing. There is a sincerity to her voice that makes me want to believe her. Either she is genuine, or she’s a damn good actress.

  I lean against the wall, my arms placed over my chest, my eyes narrowing just a little on the girl sitting on the step. “How do I know I can trust you?” I ask, with a tilt of my head. “See, I’ve been friends with your cousin a long time, a really fucking long time,” I repeat. “And right now, I’m just not sure I can trust him. I’m wary, suspicious of his motives, then you turn up. After everything. After the way I’ve treated you, the way I spoke to you earlier. Yet, here you are, wanting to help.” I study her face for a reaction, my lips pressed together as I wait for her to respond.

  “I’m not my cousin, Brax. I’m Tara Mellano. I have my own brain, my own thoughts and feelings. I ain’t no lap dog and I certainly don’t take orders from my cousin. I don’t care how scary or notorious he is around here. I’ve chosen my side, and the fact that I’m here says it all.”

  I let out a huge breath, scared that she will expect more than I can offer. I made that fucking mistake once, I’m not about to make it again. My heart belongs to Izzy and no amount of desire will ever replace the feelings I have for my soulmate. “I don’t need you to take my side,” I say quietly, my head falling, my eyes fluttering shut.

  She laughs loudly. “I think you do.” I snap open my eyes, looking at her as she looks around in an exaggerated way. “I don’t see anyone else offering to help.”

  “Whatever, wise ass.” I chuckle, using my shoulder to push myself upright, making my way along the hall, toward my bedroom. “Be ready for six-thirty sharp!”

  Frantically searching the hall, I can’t help but clench and release my hands. They shake uncontrollably, just like the rest of my body. I did it. I killed the bitch, but my actions scare me. I can’t believe I forced her to take her last breath, But I had no choice. I have to get out of here. It was her or me. Repeating the words in my head over and over, I attempt to remove the frantic thoughts—the 'what the hell have I done' ones that are niggling in the depths of my mind. I race down the stairs, my sense of sound on high alert, expecting that someone will come for me. I wonder how long I have to get out, how long it will be before someone finds me. Making sure my footsteps are light, I’m desperately trying not to be heard. I make it to the bottom of the stairs, my head whipping from side to side as I try to work out how I can escape. Running over to the kitchen door, I push on it lightly, peeking through the gap. Putting one silent foot in front of the other, I hope and pray that it’s empty. Making my way inside, I look around the corner, checking that the coast is clear. My heart hammers when I realize there is no one here and I have no time to waste. I need to get to the window and fast. I can make it out, just like last time. Lifting my head, my eyes land on the window in front of me. I freeze at the sight of bars on the outside of the windows.

  “Fuck,” I mumble under my breath, realizing that I won’t get out this way. Think, Izzy, dammit. Reaching for the handle of the door, I snap my hand back when it bursts open.

  “What the fuck?” Harlan growls, grabbing my hand, dragging me toward him. I look up at the enormous man that towers over me. The skin around his eyes creases and his brows are pulled together. I recognize the look of confusion; his fingers squeeze my wrist in a viselike grip.

  “Get off me,” I yell, my voice
wavering as the panic sets in. He reaches inside his pants, drawing out his gun and pointing it at my head.

  “Make one shitty fucking move and I will blow your skull into a million fucking pieces.”

  Swallowing down the fear that has caused a lump in my throat, I nod barely noticeably.

  “Come with me,” he demands, pulling me by the hand, all the while keeping the gun pointed firmly at my temple. He leads me through to the room where Alvrez is located.

  He clears his throat. “Sir,” he says cautiously. Alvrez is lying in the bed, his eyes flying open at the sound of Harlan’s voice. “We have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?” His voice is croaky, his gaze flits between me and Harlan.

  “I found her in the kitchen.” He juts his head toward me. Alvrez’s hands push against the bed as he sits a little more upright.

  “What… how?” His eyes burn into me, the eyes that I’d never wanted to see again, unless I was watching the life drain from them.

  “I’m not a little girl you can push around,” I say with a smile.

  He lets out a puff of laughter, his top lip lifting at the corner of his mouth as he begins shaking his head slowly from side to side.

  “Just tell me how,” he roars louder than I've ever heard him shout before, my body jerking in surprise of the volume.

  “She’s dead,” I say calmly, my face deadpan as I don’t let an ounce of my emotion show. “You sent her into the room. I used every bit of strength I had to overpower her.”

  “Gibbs,” Alvrez calls out and an unfamiliar guy walks into the room.

  “Yes, sir,” he replies with a tip of his head.

  “Go check the room.”

  “Sure,” he says turning quickly on his heel, racing back out of the door.

  “You know, Isabelle, things could have been so different. We could have made each other so happy.”

  “Happy?” I scoff. “I don’t think you truly understand the meaning of happy. I’ve never been happy here with you, how could I?” I spit out. Harlan’s gun nudges my temple in warning, but I ignore him. “How could you ever think I would be happy with you here? You've beaten, tortured, and raped me. Not to mention the mental abuse you have subjected me to.”

  “I had to break you in, Isabelle. You need to be compliant and you have too much resistance. None of the abuse or torture would’ve happened if you had just obeyed and given me exactly what I wanted.” His voice causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

  I widen my eyes. “You are crazy! Certifiably insane.”

  “Sir,” the guy from earlier interrupts, storming toward the bed, leaning down and whispering in his ear. I watch as they whisper back and forth, Alvrez nodding just before the guy storms past us and out of the room again. He holds up his hand, bending his fingers, indicating we should come closer.

  “Sit her down,” he instructs, and Harlan is quick to comply. With heavy hands on both my shoulders he forces me down into the seat positioned just beside the bed. I look up at the weak-looking man; hatred courses through every part of my body. I want to rip out the IV drip and use it to hurt him.

  “Remember what I told you about the two rooms upstairs?” I feel my legs shake and I swallow back a sob that I can feel rising. I nod, my eyes fixed on his as I await my fate. “You killed Jessica, didn’t you? I honestly never thought you had that in you. I have underestimated you, Isabelle, but you too, have underestimated me. I warned you. Over and over. I told you about your fate should you disobey me. I’m beginning to think you aren’t worth the effort anymore. Seems like you may have come to the end of your time here, Isabelle. I wanted you to be mine, but you had to fight it. We could have been the king and queen of our own future together.”

  “I was never yours and never will be. My heart and soul belong to Braxton.” I glare at him. The meaning behind my words have never been more true.

  “My condolences on his death,” he replies with the widest smile I’ve ever seen etched on his weathered face. The anger bubbles so ferociously I no longer have any control over it. I rush up from my chair, rear back my hand and slap him across the face. The sound reverberates through the room. Alvrez reaches up and covers the side of his face with his hand. “Don’t you dare.” I hold out a wavering finger. “Don’t you fucking dare speak about him.” My voice gives out, tears streaming down my face.

  “See, with him no longer around, you are mine. To do with what I will.” He smirks evilly at me, a look of triumph on his face.

  “I’m not yours…” I scream, saliva flying from my mouth.

  “Take her away. Take her to the pain room. Let the bitch suffer for a while.” He glares at me, his hand still cupping his own face. Harlan grabs my hands, forcing them behind my back. “Come back for me, Harlan.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get the fuck off me.” I fight him, but I’m just not strong enough. He overpowers me effortlessly, wrapping cord around my wrists, binding them in place. Once my hands are secured, Harlan roughly grabs a chunk of my hair. I cry out a little as he grips my hair so tightly it stings my scalp. Using it to drag me out of the room, I can’t fight back the silent tears that fall over my reddened cheeks and drop from my chin. Leading me up the stairs, the thud of my own heart overpowers everything. I can’t hear any of the words tumbling from his mouth with the beat in my eardrums. I don’t hear my own footsteps against the floor. No. The only sound I hear is my frantically overworked heart.

  I’m terrified and I don’t know what to do. I’m going to die in here, just like the others, just like Harlan explained. I watch as he presses the buttons beside the door, the sound of metal clinking as the bolt unlocks. He pushes open the door with his hand, holding it there while he drags me inside. The door quickly closes behind me, causing me to jump. It’s dark. Completely pitch black and I blink over and over hoping to gain some sort of vision as my eyes adjust. But they never do. I’m in complete darkness, my hands secured tightly behind my back. Shuffling back my feet, I move until my back is against the wall. I use my fingers to guide me down the wall until my ass hits the floor, my knees up, my head resting on them. It’s cold in the room, so damn cold. Shivering, I huddle as much as I can, trying to preserve what little body heat I have. I let my mind drift back to the short time I spent with Brax. Good thoughts are what I need right now, and all of mine lie with him. He is the good in me. The feel of his breath against my skin, the way my heart beat happily when he kissed me. How everything about him felt like home. His scent, the sound of his voice and the way he made me feel. That was the best. The way he made me feel something other than pain. A smile creeps across my face at the thought of Brax, but as soon as it does, it fades again, the darkness almost too much to bear. I have no idea what is in this room. It’s so dark. Too dark to see anything and I’m scared to find out. I glance down towards the corner of the door, hoping to see a shred of light. But there is nothing. Just when I thought I was strong enough mentally to fight these bastards, they do something that I can’t fight. There’s no way to fight the isolation, or the silence. Yeah, the silence is the worst. I continue to huddle my legs for what feels like forever. It’s hard to have any concept of time in isolation. I over-analyze every sound, every momentary flash of light. The sensory motions I’m not sure are real. Are they phantom? Just a figment of my warped, lonely mind?

  The sound of footsteps approach. I lift my head, blinking rapidly, hoping my vision will now clear the darkness and I will finally see something. I hold my breath, wondering whether this time the noises are real, or whether this is another hallucination. Sure enough, I feel vibration against my back, and I shuffle my numb ass out of the way as I feel the door opening. I swallow down hard; the fear of the unexpected causes my mind and heart to race. The sudden flash of light stings my eyes, causing me to force them shut, tears streaming as it’s too much, too bright.

  “Stand,” he demands grabbing my upper arm and dragging my numb body from the floor. I recognize the voice. It�
��s Harlan, but even though I can’t see him, I can sense he’s here in the room. I desperately try to fight the pain that resides in my eyes, squeezing them as tightly as possible, before opening them slowly. Over and over I try, each time opening them a little more until I’m finally able to keep them open, even if it is just squinting. I look at the blurred image before me, my jaw slack and my brain struggling to take in the sight before my sore eyes.

  “What…?” I can’t even force out the words.

  “I warned you, Isabelle. I told you the consequences of your disobedience.” I turn my head slowly, Alvrez stepping into my vision. He’s stooped over, the pain of his recent wounds are obvious in the way his discomfort shows on his features. He clutches onto a cane that appears to be holding up his weight.

  “You sick fuck,” I spit back at him. My eyes find the huge jars that line the wall once more. I stifle a gasp as I recognize what is in the numerous jars. Some are women’s heads, some are hands and one even has a breast in it. I drop my head to the side, no longer able to squash the vomit ripping through me, emptying what little contents I held in my stomach, onto the floor beside me.

  “Get her on the bed,” Alvrez orders Harlan. I whip my head back upright; my eyes focus on the medical couch with restraints.

  The words tumble from my mouth as though I have no control over them. “No, no, no, no, no…” I’m screaming and I know no one can hear me. With rough hands, Harlan drags me from the floor, then digs into his pants retrieving a pocket knife. I fight with all my might, but it’s no good. Sucking in a breath, I have no option but to freeze, my whole body stiffening as the knife stops just in front of my face. “Keep still.” He clutches his teeth together, his words sounding like a growl as he drops the knife and suddenly the tension of the ropes around my wrists slackens. My arms drop, and I pull them to the front, rubbing them as I try to rid the ache I now feel there. I use the few seconds to look around the rest of the room. The black walls and floor only highlight the other scary shit that lines the room. Opposite the jars of his previous victims is a wall full of scary-looking tools: saws, hammers, restraints, all hanging on hooks in the wall. I have no idea what half of them are, or what they do, and quite frankly, I never want to find out.