Chapter 2

Chapter Two Ryder

Shit hasn’t been rightsince the moment we heard someone call “Charlotte.”

It’s not a name I can even begin to associate with Scar. It’s not who she is. Charlotte was a soft, little girl, blind to the evil in her own house. She was light and joy, content to never know the secrets the shadows hide. Scar was born from the poisoned touch from those very same shadows Charlotte was oblivious too. She isn’t the same person. Not anymore. Not when she wants to leave Charlotte buried in the past. It’s not something everyone can understand. Even when we’ve all been through different shades of horror, it can be hard to understand. But I do. The part of me that had accepted my fate as a piece of property and was ready to die after losing Jen, resonates with why she would want to leave her past self behind her.

Almost as if by saying Charlotte also died in the fire and a monster rose from the ashes, the innocent parts of herself were laid to rest with her sisters. Like they will always have a piece of her with them and she can move forward, knowing she isn’t abandoning or forgetting them.

I don’t like someone taking that away from her. Dragging her past back up to the surface, even if there was no way they could have known what they were doing.

Kade immediately recognized who it was that called her name. He was out of his seat before the name had even fully left his lips. Before we ever heard any response from Scar or Declan. I’m surprised we have any functioning equipment left in the van because he was ready to flip tables the moment he heard his voice.

Luca immediately went into boss mode and got everyone moving so we could make a fast getaway, regardless of how the events turned out. His hands stayed fisted at his sides, even as he sent Noah, Joe and Ian to clear out any trace of our presence from the hotel room. But even as we did our best to keep it together, trying to pull up different angles of the ballroom, none of us truly knew what our next step would be.

We didn’t know how Scar would respond, what she would want us to do. Were we cleaning up a body? Blowing up a ballroom? All of the above, perhaps. I’ve gotten pretty good at being able to anticipate and meet her needs without her having to tell me. Thought we all had gotten to the point we could work flawlessly together with little communication. I don’t think I was wrong, but this situation has proven I wasn’t entirely right either. There will always be situations we aren’t prepared for, ones we couldn’t have expected or planned for.

Ones like Scar, Declan, and an unconscious body in the back of the van with us.

As always, my eyes are drawn to Scar. I knew she would be able to make it back to us in one piece. But I still as I take her in. Relief and worry simultaneously flooding through me. Not a hair is out of place. She’s as perfect as when she left the hotel room, her dress fitting her toned figure, her hair framing her angled face in a way that accentuates each of her features.

You would never know we were in survival mode based on the picture she presents. That behind the gorgeous, put-together woman, were five men absolutely losing their minds over her. But she can no longer completely hide from us. Can’t quite mask the lost and confused look in her eyes. The way she won’t quite meet any of our eyes as Kade throws the body on the floor of the van.

She nods in our direction as she climbs into the back to take her seat, but keeps her gaze centered on the floor. My gut twists in reaction to her distress.

We may have come here for answers, but none of us expected to get them like this. We may need them, but at what cost? How much will be too much for her to handle?

I nudge his unconscious body with my foot and stare at him with disdain. He isn’t worthy of being what breaks my girl. Not even worthy of a crack in her armor.

I still don’t know who he is to her. How he could possibly recognize her from her laugh alone. The familiarity in which he addressed her rubs my skin raw. I shake off the murderous urges as my curious gaze turns into more than a little bloodthirsty.

I turn my focus to her, watching the way she gnaws on her bottom lip, lost in her own thoughts. I wait for her to feel my attention on her and turn to me the way she always does. With each passing minute that she doesn’t, my own anxiety ratchets up higher.

Scar isn’t herself.

None of us are.

The rest of the guys are also subdued. She hasn’t had any type of reaction, making it impossible to understand where her head is at. I feel almost as helpless as the day I lost Jen. Like I’m just waiting to lose the most important person in my life all over again.

The pain in her eyes, the lost and faraway look, it all reminds me of the time I first met her when hearing her scream from her nightmares were as common as hearing her and Kade have sex.

My thoughts wander back to that time and I realize just how far Scar has come in the past year. She’s no longer keeping us all at arm’s length, which means her lack of reaction can only be one thing. She doesn’t know how to react. She doesn’t know what our next step should be either. Maybe she doesn’t even know what to do with this man. I’ve never seen her hesitate to kill anyone before, but somehow I get the feeling that’s exactly the case here. Whether she realizes it or not.

The drive to Declan’s place seems to drag on as the silence transcends any level of comfort we normally have as a group. Nothing about this trip has been typical for us. It unsettles me that one unexpected twist of events has rocked us so off balance.

I stare out the window as Luca pulls off the freeway. We drive through lights, becoming further and further away until we reach an isolated residential area. Luca still doesn’t slow the car. Passing through stop signs as we begin to drive up a hill. It seems as if the road just keeps going, all the way until houses no longer line the streets.

We pull up to a wrought iron gate that closes off the street. Luca rolls to a stop and Declan clears his throat before telling him the code that opens the gate. The rest of us exchange looks as the intricate gate slowly opens.

There are no signs or any evidence that this is a gated community. Rather all indications lead to the conclusion that Declan’s family has more wealth than I had anticipated. It’s one thing to have a gate off of a residential street the way Luca does. It’s quite another for the main street to turn into your private drive at the top of a mountain.

I study Declan, but he’s actively avoiding our stares as much as Scar is now. His body is much tenser than when he first climbed into the car. I guess I was so focused on Scar, I didn’t stop to think how he would feel about coming back to one of his family’s homes. He’s never opened up to me, but from what he revealed when he discovered Scar’s true identity, I know being a James has been, at best, a burden but more likely a horror show.

Kade watches him with the same apprehension he had been using to watch Scar. I guess they also have come a long way from the time they couldn’t be in the same room together. Declan meets his eyes only to subtly shake his head.

He calls out another code just as Luca begins to slow to another stop.

Kade arches a brow, breaking the tense mood of the car. “Two gates. Really?”

Declan scoffs, a huff of amusement that draws even Scar’s attention. “How else would you know I was rich rich?”

I snort as Luca pulls through the gate and turns the corner of the road and the house appears before us. “I don’t think any of us would doubt that.”

I can’t take my eyes off of her as she takes in the huge mansion in front of us. Any other time Kade would join me in heckling Declan as Scar watched on in amusement. But I can’t dredge up the energy and I don’t think the rest of us can either. It was a brief moment of small smiles that couldn’t overcome the stress that has accumulated from this night.

“You can just park at the front,” Declan directs. “All staff will be gone at this time.”

Luca and Kade nod, but no one else says anything as Luca parks and we all pile out of the van. Scar looks at the colonial mansion with wide eyes, full of emotion. Of recognition, longing, and even a thread of disgust. None of us can blame her for her disdain for this type of show of wealth. It must be reminiscent of her own childhood.

Declan leads us through the front door, hardly stopping to show us around before leading us all to a hallway full of bedrooms.

Scar speaks up for the first time when she directs Ian and Joe to take Charles into an empty room and to rotate standing guard.

“We can all take turns,” Kade volunteers.

She scoffs, some of her normal fire bleeding through her stone cold exterior. “I can’t trust the rest of you Neanderthals with him.”

“Hey, I don’t even know who the dick is,” I argue back, taking issue with her saying she can’t trust us.

“Her ex,” Luca says derisively.

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest. Understanding dawns on me as to the reason why Luca and Kade seemed even more tightly wound than the rest of us. She arches a brow, challenging me. “Yeah, can’t trust me,” I agree, changing my tune now that I know their past. What a sick, twisted history it is. We all heard what she said, what she realized. His father is one of the men who ruined our girl. For it to have been someone who was so close to her. It somehow makes the whole thing that much worse.

Maybe I can understand why she is so lost in her own mind right now. That’s a hell of a lot to process. She’s handling it better than I did. I eye his body slung over Joe’s shoulder. Maybe we should just kill him.

“We have it under control,” Joe intervenes before things can get out of hand. He looks over Scar appraisingly. “How do you want us to handle him?”

She hesitates. Right. No killing. Not until she is certain of her own mind. “Just come get me when he wakes up,” she answers instead.

Ian and Joe trade looks, stopping to look at the unmoving body in Joe’s arms. “And before then?” Ian asks hesitantly.

Scar rolls her eyes. With each little bit of attitude seeping out of her, she seems more like herself. “Just throw him on the bed and keep an eye on him. He’ll be out for at least a couple more hours.”

“That’s it?” Ian isn’t the only one who is surprised. When we captured William, she immediately had us bound and string him up like some type of fucked up pinata. She just wants to leave this guy to take a nap in the guest room?

She takes a deep breath, clearly trying not to snap at any of us again. Even that is out of character for her. “For now, yeah. I haven’t decided how we are dealing with this yet.”

“You got it, Boss,” Ian murmurs before he and Joe disappear into the room Declan pointed out to them.

D grabs Scar by the hand tentatively, waiting to see if she flinches again. When she doesn’t we all collectively release the breath we had been holding. He uses his grip to pull her along with him until we walk into a spacious living room. I’m quick to nab the spot on her other side as soon as she sits down on the couch. Kade flips me off, dropping into a loveseat to the left of the couch. Noah smiles but is quick to smother it and peek at Scar to see her reaction before sitting in another open seat.

Luca refuses to sit and begins pacing around the room. I watch Scar’s profile but she doesn’t react to any of us. She’s looking over Noah’s head at a blank space on the wall, lost in her own thoughts. I look past her to Declan, waiting for him to direct us on what to do. I’ve never seen Scar go so silent. With each passing second I feel more anxious than the last. Maybe we should get her whiskey. It made the voices in my head go quiet. At least for a little while.

If I was hoping for D to have a better idea I would be severely disappointed because he looks as lost as I feel.

For my own sanity, I snake my hand out and rest it on her thigh. When she doesn’t react, I slip it under the slit in her dress and start to draw circles over the soft skin on her inner thigh. After a few minutes it seems to draw her attention to me.

Her small smile throws me off, worrying me even more. She’s been practically silent since we walked into the house and when she did talk, she was closer to snapping than anything else.

“How about a shower?” I take a chance and ask, pulling on her dress. It has to be uncomfortable, she hasn’t even slipped out of the death traps she calls heels. I think more than anything, she needs a restart. A chance to clear some of the thoughts that are consuming her. A hot shower always seems to be the answer.

She sighs in relief and I know she’s glad for the break. For that much longer to sort out her own thoughts. On second thought, maybe it’s better she isn’t going straight for a bottle of whiskey like I did when I realized it was someone close to me that tipped my life into chaos. I was useless for weeks, okay months, being too drunk to string two words together let alone an entire plan.

I slip my arm under the crook of her knees and my other arm around her back to haul her into my arms in a bridal hold. She doesn’t fight me like I half expected her to, but melts into my arms, resting her head against my shoulder.

Noah pops out of his seat. “I’ll go grab our bags.”

“I’ll help,” Kade agrees.

I’m not sure what Declan and Luca decide to do as I carry her out of the room as they begin their own conversation, but it doesn’t really matter. I know we are all going to be doing our part to help our girl out in any way we can.

I push into one of the rooms D had pointed out earlier. It’s as far from the room Joe is in as we can get, but I remember that D said it has an ensuite.

I walk her straight into the bathroom and set her ass on the counter. She watches me as I turn to the shower and study it for a moment before turning it to as hot as I’ll be able to stand. Scar likes her showers on this side of scalding for some ghastly reason.

I move back to her and grab ahold of her hips, giving her a small smile as she steals all of my attention without even trying. She’s never far from my mind and the smirk she gives me tells me she knows it too. Even when we are like this, unsure and just trying to survive, when I look into her eyes I find home. I find peace. I find the courage to believe that no matter what, we will be able to figure it out.

Her zipper is easy to find at the back of her dress and I don’t hesitate to slide it down her spine, letting my fingers brush against her bare skin as I go. She trembles under the touch and goosebumps rise along her skin. She looks almost serene as I dip my fingers under the fabric at her shoulders and slowly start pushing it down to reveal her chest to me.

She arches her back and I let her dress pool around her waist. I move my hands to her hair and carefully find and remove the pins holding it in place, letting it fall in long waves down her back.

She smiles as I trace my fingers against the weapons and syringes strapped to her body, now exposed. One by one, I remove each as the bathroom begins to fill with steam until I can only barely make out our shapes in the mirror. She stays silent as she observes me, just relishing in the simple touches as I let my fingers linger on her skin with each removal.

Her nipples peak despite the now warm air. I grin as I brush my knuckles against them, making her chuckle. A rough and husky sound. Not quite the same cadence I can usually pull from her. It lacks the full throatiness of her usual laugh, but it makes me smile nonetheless.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised,” I whisper. “My girl is always so needy.”

I hadn’t brought her in here with the intent to distract her. I really thought a shower would be just the way to reset and come back to our problems with a clear mind. I won’t complain about this turn of events. If she needs more than just a mental break, needs an orgasm or two to really clear her head, I can give that to her. I can always give that to her.

I pick her up and pull her from the counter until she’s standing, those damn heels still on. Her dress falls to a puddle at her feet, and I leave it abandoned there. As beautiful as she looked, it’s now marred with these memories. I pull free the knives and harnesses from her thighs, grabbing the diamond chain as well. I lay all of them out on the counter at her side before picking her back up and placing her in the same spot as before.

She flinches at the cold tile against her bare ass and cocks her head to the side in confusion as she watches me, but I have a plan. If my girl needs to relax, she’s going to relax. I drop to my knees and wrap my hand around one of her heels, slowly removing it from her foot.

She laughs, a small breathy sound. “I think the prince is supposed to put the glass slipper on my foot.”

I shake my head at her as I remove the other shoe and begin to massage her feet. Slow, deep caresses to work out the pain I know she must be feeling in them. Jen always hated wearing heels.

“We both know I’m no prince,” I tease her back. A small moan slips through her lips as I continue to rub her feet. “But I’ll still slay the monsters with you.”

“Not for me?”

I laugh, as if she would ever want that. “And have all the fun by myself? Never.”

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

I move my hands away from her feet until I’m caressing her calf, slowly kneading my way up her legs. She spreads her legs wider to accommodate my shoulder width as I make my way up to her thighs. I love the way I can see her already starting to glisten for me with barely any prep at all.

I pepper kisses over her inner thighs. “There are a lot of reasons you keep me around,” I tell her, letting my breath fan over her exposed pussy.

Her fingers sink into my hair and tighten around it, urging me closer to her. I guess I won’t make her beg for it. Today anyways.

I brush my nose over her lips, just barely hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves. I breathe in deeply, loving the way her scent drowns out all of my worries. I push her knees wider, opening her up to me even more. Loving every little sound that spills from her full lips.

I run my tongue up her center, stopping at her clit to lather it with attention. I lap at her as she writhes against my face, begging for more. I don’t make her wait for long before I’m slipping two fingers into her warmth and begin to thrust in and out of her. Her moans get louder, and I move my tongue faster as I roll it against her. I crook my fingers inside of her to hit her g-spot and don’t stop until she’s coming on my tongue.

The way she cries out my name is one of the sweetest things, second only to the taste of her. I slow my movements as she rides through her orgasm and comes back down. I don’t give her a chance to say anything though as I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to the shower, letting her get in first while I undress myself.

I climb into the shower behind her and let the water sear into my skin. I can’t help but flinch at the burn the moment it hits. Scar smirks and turns the dial of the shower down. I roll my eyes and lean over her to turn it back up. I’ll get used to it.

She leans into me and I grab a clean washcloth and pour a generous amount of body wash into it. It smells nice, but different than what Scar normally uses. I dismiss the thought and focus on scrubbing her body down, giving her a light massage as I go.

We don’t speak, nothing more than little sighs of contentment from her and murmured directions from me. I don’t rush through it, giving each of her limbs special attention until she’s fully relaxed under the water spray.

As I turn her around to start washing her hair, I almost wish we were in a bath for this part so she could continue to lean against me completely. I scrub her scalp, brushing just behind her ears where I know she’s especially sensitive. Her small moan makes me smile as I grab the shower head and pull it back to us to carefully rinse the suds from her hair.

I half expect her to make a comment about putting it to better use. We’ve all heard about her little shower adventure with Luca and Noah more than one time, but she keeps any dirty thoughts to herself. That more than anything shows me how in her head she still is.

I replace the shower head on the wall and repeat the process with the conditioner. The new and unfamiliar fragrance shouldn’t aggravate me as much as it does, but I can’t seem to help the rising bitterness that even this simple thing isn’t the same. I’ve come to accept just how much I rely on things not changing. I wonder if it’s the same for Scar? If she too is wishing she had her own products from home right now. Knowing her, there are probably travel sizes of everything she uses in her bag, but I guess I let my impatience get the best of me.

After rinsing the conditioner from her hair, I turn off the water and lift her out of the shower. I deftly wrap a towel around my waist before grabbing another one and begin to pat her dry. With every movement she leans more into the motion, swaying slightly on her feet.

I bundle her up in a fluffy robe and grab a new, dry towel and a hairbrush before carrying her to the bed. It’s when I’m drying her hair, she finally starts to share some of the thoughts running rampant through her mind.

“I don’t know my own mind anymore,” she admits in a whisper.

“So what?”

She tilts her head back to look at me, confusion marring her features.

I give her a small smile. “So what if you don’t know your mind? We can hold on to him until you know what you want to do with him. If you want him dead, he’s dead. If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you. If you want him to live, we will figure that out too. You don’t have to have the answers right now.”

She’s silent for a few moments as she mulls over what I said. I finish pulling the brush through her damp hair and braid it back away from her face. If I know one thing about this girl, it’s that she moves a hell of a lot in her sleep and will wake up with crazy hair if she doesn’t pull it up.

“Who would have thought that we would be switching roles?”

I chuckle as I finish her hair and pull her into my arms and fall back onto the bed, situating her so we are laying face to face. “Why do you think you always have to be the strong one?”

She doesn’t answer. I know once upon a time she wouldn’t have hesitated to answer that it was because she always had been before. But we all know that isn’t the truth. We’ve seen Scar break. We’ve seen her come back from her absolute lowest. Where she had to lean on us to find her strength and purpose again. To actually heal from the wounds that had festered that she pretended didn’t exist. No one ever said there is an end to healing though. The thing about trauma is it sneaks back up on you in unexpected ways. Just when you think you’re finally okay, it all comes rushing back and it feels like every step forward was all for nothing. She was never going to heal in just a day, or a week, or even a year.

“You once told me that you would be my strength when I needed to be weak. We will all be that for you, Scar.”

“I know,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

“So be weak,” I tell her. “Admit that you don’t know what to do with Charles. That maybe seeing him brought up emotions you don’t understand. That finding out who one of your rapists was, finding out how close that person was to you, feels like a gut punch and you’re just trying to catch your breath before figuring out what it all means. That just because you’ve been feeling better doesn’t miraculously mean you are better. That what happened all those years ago doesn’t still tear you apart.”

Her big green eyes search mine, filling with so much emotion I know she can’t possibly reconcile everything she’s feeling. “I always thought my path to revenge was a clear one. Kill anyone who gets in my way, no hesitation.”

I trace my fingers down her cheek, cupping her face in mine. “Not all wounds are created equal. Not all cuts bleed the same. Not all scars still ache. Some lies, some betrayals, some mistakes are worth forgiving. You told me you would rather be destroyed by your anger than absolve your rapists of their sins. You were entirely sure in that conviction. They didn’t deserve to be written off as a lesson learned, didn’t deserve to be forgiven. Maybe Charles does. Maybe the scars he left don’t ache anymore. Maybe the marks he left are the ones you took to build everything you have since you left Charlotte behind. Maybe the blood spilt due to his broken edges is what fueled you into becoming Scar. A fierce badass with a huge heart she had to protect until she was strong enough to let people in again.”

“You don’t think I should kill him?”

I grimace. “Well, I didn’t say that,” I hedge. “I vote death for anyone who ever hurts even a single hair on your head. But it isn’t my opinion that matters here and I’ve never known you to struggle with dealing a killing blow. If you’re hesitating, it’s not about death, it’s about him. He must be worth at least the consideration.”

She buries her face in my chest and wraps her arms around my waist, but not before I see the smile spreading across her features.