Scar (Black Hearts MC #8)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

ELSIE

Clasping the hot cup of coffee in my hands with Scar sat opposite me, I want to freeze time. I don’t want this small bubble of happiness to end.

His eyes slowly assess me. “So, tell me what you’ve been up to. You’re feeling okay?” I ask.

He nods. “I’m feeling good, and just usual club stuff,” he answers.

I nod and smile, glancing a look at some of his club that are sat at a table on the other side of the diner. One of them smiles and gives me a wink, causing me to blush. I laugh and look away. Scar looks over and scowls at whoever it was.

“So, you’re eating okay? I was worried you would need serious medical attention, or that maybe long lasting damage had been done,” I ramble.

“Angel,” he states.

My stomach does that fluttery thing whenever he calls me that. “Yeah?” I answer.

“You going to tell me how you managed to get yourself engaged so quickly? When I’m pretty sure you were single the last time I saw you,” he states.

At that moment, my bubble pops and reality comes flooding into the happiness I had started to feel. I look down at my coffee, putting on my best false smile. “He works for my father. I’ve known him a long time and the timing just seemed right.” The words taste bitter on my tongue as I lie, praying he doesn’t realise who it is I'm engaged to.

He doesn’t react, smile, or even say the usual congratulations.

I push a chuckle out and tuck my hair behind my ear, feeling awkward. “So, the wedding is in 6 weeks and?—”

I’m cut off by Scar lurching towards me, and I flinch away automatically. Squinting my eyes closed, I brace myself for the hit, but when it doesn’t come I slowly open my eyes. Scar’s hand is paused just an inch from my face as I look at him.

“I would never hurt you,” he declares, his voice low and menacing. His hand gently takes my chin and tilts my head to the side. I close my eyes, chastising myself at my mistake. “Who did this to you?” he growls so low I swear I can feel his voice vibrating through me. I swallow before opening my mouth to say something, to lie, say I tripped or something, that I opened a cupboard door into my face, that I had started boxing, but nothing came out. “Tell me, did he do this to you?” he presses.

“I, it, it’s okay,” I whisper.

“Was this the distraction? Marrying fucking Layton?! He was the thing to make sure that no one came after me?” he presses.

“It won’t be forever, and I’m fine. I can handle it,” I manage to force out.

“You are not going back to him,” he grits through his teeth. My eyes widen and I lean back, forcing him to let go of my chin.

“I have to,” I state. “I can’t, I just can’t,” I whisper.

Scar’s eyes are cold, and his jaw is set so tight. His hands are balled into tight fists and as he pushes his chair back, he sends it clattering across the room. I jump and people in the diner gasp. He runs his hands through his hair.

“Fuck!” he roars. I jump again, and it feels like my heart is thumping a million beats per minute. Then he storms out, nearly ripping the door off the hinges as he does.

I watch as one of his club runs after him while another gives the owner a look.

“Okay everyone, I’m closing early, sorry for the inconvenience. I will give a free slice of pie tomorrow as an apology,” the woman yells. The other customers in the diner grumble and mutter their annoyance as they stand and file out one by one.

I grab my bag and jump to my feet. It was a mistake to come see him. Just one big mistake. I move quickly to the door, but one of the club members gets there first, standing in front of it.

“Just give him a minute, darlin’,” he says softly.

I clutch my purse to my chest as fear begins to pulse through my veins. I shake my head. “No, I need to go. If I am here too long, he will know,” I state, my voice wavering.

The guy holds out his hands as if to assure me. I step back and he gives me a tight smile. “You are safe here,” he assures me. “I’m Cash, and Scar is a good brother. He is obviously just working through some shit, and by the sight of that nasty bruise, and the fact that you flinch away, I’m guessing it’s to do with that,” he points out.

As if he is watching me, my phone starts ringing in my bag. I hurriedly rummage to answer it, but when I see that it’s Layton, my hands shake as I answer.

“Hello?” I say, hating how my voice breaks. I cough, trying to hide my fear.

Cash, the biker in front of me, takes my phone and puts it on speaker. My eyes are wide and I shake my head no. He places his index finger on his lips and nods, assuring me they will be quiet. “Why are you at some diner and not trying on dresses?” he snaps.

I had only been twenty minutes longer, that was all. “I came for a coffee and a salad to celebrate,” I state.

“Celebrate?” he quips back.

“I found the perfect dress. You will love it,” I breathe out, feeling my heart racing.

He pauses, then my phone beeps, stating that he wants to video call. My eyes go wide and I quickly sit back in my seat, ensuring to keep the camera on me, making sure no one is behind me before I answer.

“Hey.” I smile at him, desperately trying to stop my hands from shaking.

“Looks quiet,” he states.

“Yeah, it’s a quiet day for them I think.” I shrug, masking my fear. The doorbell chimes with someone coming in, and thankfully you can’t see it on camera, but I hear deep murmurings and I know it’s Scar returning. I pause, at a loss for words.

“Hey there, darling girl. Can I interest you in today’s soup of the day? It’s my mamma’s recipe, winter vegetable,” the owner beams as she tops up my mug. She gives me a wink and I could kiss her.

“Yes, that would be lovely, thank you,” I accept.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were on a call,” she feigns innocently.

“It’s my fiancé.” I smile, adding to the performance.

She surprises me by leaning in next to me, smiling and waving at Layton. “Oh, hey there, you have a beautiful fiancé,” she compliments. “And my, aren’t you a handsome devil! Perfect match,” she sings.

Layton’s frown quickly turns into a smile. “That’s very kind of you. Look after her for me, and no bread with that soup. I don’t want her getting fat for our wedding.” He winks. The sound of plates and glasses smashing has me and the owner looking up to see Cash and another brother holding back a very angry looking Scar.

“Oh, do excuse me. The wash boy has dropped the dishes again! Honestly boy, can’t you just wash the damn dishes without smashing them?!” she yells as she walks off, giving me a wink.

“Okay, I will let you go, but be home before it gets dark,” he orders.

I nod. “Of course, I will. I will text you when I get home,” I assure him.

He nods, then disconnects.

I make sure that the call has ended before I place it back in my bag. Only then do I exhale a long breath. I place my head in my shaky hands, trying to regain some composure. I feel him next to me, and his warm hands gently grasp my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. As I turn my head to look at him, I can see that there is still anger in his eyes, but this time it’s mixed with sadness and regret. He releases my wrist and reaches up, slowly and delicately tucking my hair back behind my ear.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps.

“What are you apologising for?” I ask.

“For my reaction, and for being selfish and not thinking what you would have had to endure for me leaving. If I had known, I wouldn’t have gone. I would have stayed and waited for my club to come and get me,” he rasps.

I smile. “It’s okay, and I know you would have stayed. That’s why I didn’t tell you. If you’d stayed, you would have died. So I may be living in misery right now, but at least we are both breathing.” I shrug with a smile playing on my lips.

His eyes flicker down to my mouth. “I can’t let you go back to him,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“I have to. If I don’t, then my father and Layton will come for me. For you,” I state.

He runs his hands through his hair. “I can’t sit back and watch you suffer like this, like you did for me. Let me help you. I owe you my fucking life,” he says, his voice breaking.

“You owe me nothing but keeping yourself alive. This was always going to be my life. I just brought it forward by a couple of years. I was delusional if I thought my life could ever be different from what it is now. It’s okay. I will be okay,” I assure him. After seeing him, I would accept my life now that I know he is happy. “Go be with the woman you love and start your life with your family,” I state. There’s an awkward clearing of a throat behind him and I look over to see a guy not looking too happy.

Scar smirks. “That isn’t a thing anymore, Angel. She isn’t mine, she’s Acid’s. I’m cool with that.”

“Oh,” I wince. I look to the other guy Acid and mouth the word ‘sorry’ to him. He smirks back at me amused.

“Angel, look at me,” Scar demands. I turn my gaze to him. “You are not going back to him,” he orders, while also making it sound like a threat.

“I have to,” I remind him. It isn’t that simple. If it was, then he wouldn’t have been held for months. Even his club, his President must know that. As if I summoned him, the bells chime above the door and in he walks. His cold glacial stare lands on me and I instantly feel fear creeping up my spine as I remember our last encounter with his hand wrapped around my throat. I am not saying or doing anything that may provoke him in any way.

“He won’t hurt you,” Scar assures me, sensing my hesitation.

I raise my brow at Scar. “Well, I’m not about to provoke him,” I whisper quietly.

Scar’s smile widens. “He will be grateful for that, because his ol’ lady gives him enough shit.” Scar smirks.

Ghost pulls out a chair and takes a seat at the end of our table. “Oh no, please do join us,” I quip sarcastically. I gasp, my eyes widening and I slap my hand over my mouth. “I am so sorry,” I apologise. Scar throws his head back and laughs, but Ghost just stares at me unimpressed and clearly not in the mood. “Sorry, it’s like a disease. The filter between brain and mouth just misfires sometimes. It’s usually what ends up causing this.” I laugh, pointing to my cheek. Scar’s laughter instantly dies, going from amused to pissed in a nano second. Ghost just remains looking at me with the same too tired for the shit glare. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“Ghost, tell her how we can help her,” Scar urges.

Ghost just crosses his arms over his broad chest and lets out a long sigh. His gaze turns to Scar, regret flashing through it. “We can’t,” he states.

“What the fuck do you mean we can’t?” Scar seethes, his anger growing.

Ghost’s gaze, now a little softer comes to me. “I’m sorry darlin’, but we can’t just take you and keep you safe. Your father would figure out it was us within a day, and while I’m not scared of your father or his men, I do have a family to protect. My brothers have a family to protect. Taking you with us today would be like leading a wolf to its prey.” He pulls a cigarette out of the packet and lights it. Shocked, I look around for the owner, waiting for him to be thrown out. Instead, she walks around and places an ashtray in front of him. She gives me a kind smile and walks back off to the kitchen. I’m guessing they know the owner pretty well then.

“I understand, believe me. I’ve lived with my father my entire life. I know exactly what repercussions there are when you cross him. Add Layton into that and you know it will be catastrophic.” I nod in agreement. Scar just scowls as soon as I mention Layton’s name.

“We can’t fucking let her go back to him. Who knows what might fucking happen to her?” Scar argues. Ghost glares at Scar and I shift uncomfortably.

I clear my throat and both of their gazes land on me. “Listen, I don’t want to cause an issue here,” I state to both of them. I stand and take out a large tip for the owner as a way of apology for the inconvenience caused. As I place it on the table, I give Scar a small smile. Leaning down, I place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I will be okay, I promise. Please let me go. If I stay here any longer, he will make my life unbearable,” I whisper softly. “I’ve never been happier seeing that you’re okay,” I add before standing. As I place my hand on his shoulder, I give him a tight squeeze. I smile as I give the rest of the club an awkward wave. “Bye, it was nice meeting you all.” They all just give me a nod, or a chin lift.

I open the door to the diner and part of me wishes he would jump to his feet and stop me from leaving. That in the last thirty seconds he’s figured out a way for me to be free, but of course that wouldn’t be reality, so I leave and he doesn’t stop me.