Scar (Black Hearts MC #8)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ELSIE

After washing my face in an attempt to try and get myself together, I hoped that the make-up would hide my breakdown. I’m so focused on what I’m doing in the kitchen, not wanting my mind to think about what I have done or what is about to happen. I can’t let my mind even start to think about that, not now. Layton’s hands glide around my waist, causing me to jump.

“Hey steady, it’s only me. What’s got you so jumpy?” he asks.

I clear my throat and turn my head to look at him, trying my best to give him a reassuring smile. “Nothing. I was just daydreaming is all,” I lie, praying that he believes it. His eyes flicker over my face for a minute before he grins back and nods.

“Daydreaming about marrying me?” He laughs as he steps back before slamming his palm down hard across my backside, causing me to flinch at the sharp sting of pain it leaves behind. As he opens the fridge and pulls a beer out for himself, I continue preparing dinner as he leans against the counter, drinking his beer. “Where is your mom?” he asks.

My body goes tight as I try to control my reaction. “Not sure. Probably having a bath or something,” I state.

My eyes flicker to Layton to see if he’s buying the lie that easily dripped off my tongue. He nods and his eyes flickering down to my chest. I groan internally, silently begging for my father to walk in now and need him for something because I know that look he’s giving me and I will do anything to avoid it. He places his beer on the counter and strides towards me as I continue to chop up some mushrooms.

“On your knees,” he orders quietly in my ear.

“I can’t. Daddy wants his dinner, and if I stop now he won’t be happy,” I rush out, praying it’s enough for him.

His hand wraps around my hand that is holding the knife, and I instantly know it’s not enough.

“I said on your fucking knees. You going to deny me?” he growls. I immediately release the knife, wishing that I had just turned and stabbed him with it.

Jesus, I’m turning into a killing monster, I think to myself.

Layton keeps hold of the knife, twiddling it in his hand, A reminder, a threat if I don’t give him what he wants. “Now, I’ve had a really long fucking day, so take my dick and suck it until I tell you to stop,” he orders.

My hands tremble as I undo his pants and free his hard less than average dick. I want to curl my lip in disgust at it. At this point, I want to bite the fucking thing clean off, but I can’t. I can’t cause any suspicion to what is coming. I can do this one last time, once more, and then it will all be over forever. Closing my eyes I take him into my mouth.

“Open your fucking eyes,” he grits through his teeth. I quickly do as he ordered, tensing as he presses the cold metal of the sharp chopping knife against my throat. He grips my hair with his other hand and roughly and painfully fucks my mouth.

My eyes water and I can feel the sting of the knife cutting into my neck, followed by the trickle of blood running down. I fight the urge to gag as I feel the salty taste of his pre-cum.

“You’re mine, you fucking pathetic little cunt,” he pants, pressing the blade deeper against my neck. I can’t help the panicked whimper that escapes me. “Your body is mine to do whatever I fucking want to,” he growls, his eyes flaring with arousal and rage.

A click echoes, making Layton pause and look over to where the sound is coming from behind me.

“I don’t fucking think so,” Scar’s deep voice states before the sound of a gun firing shatters the room. Layton’s body jolts and his wide eyes are on me, a dark bloody bullet hole right between his eyes.

I scream and try to scurry back as his lifeless body collapses to the floor.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I scream again, jumping away. Scar holds out his hand. “It’s me, Angel,” he states softly, holding out his hand. I place my shaky one in his as he helps me to my feet, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing and perches me on the counter. He quickly grabs some paper towels and places them against my neck. My body is trembling, my eyes wide as I gaze at his face. “Breathe in, 1, 2, 3. Breathe out, 1, 2, 3,” he instructs calmly.

I try, but my breathing still comes out ragged.

“I, I,” I pant, trying to talk. “I’m…” I pause as I retch. Scar moves quickly and gathers my hair in his hands as he guides me to empty my stomach into the sink.

“Jesus fucking Christ Scar, you were supposed to keep him alive,” I hear a deep voice chastise.

“I couldn’t keep him alive seeing what he was fucking doing,” Scar growls.

I gasp for breath between the retching, feeling Scar still rubbing smooth circles on my back.

“She okay?” the same voice asks, but softer this time.

“She will be. You call ahead and get Dixie ready. He had a knife to her throat and the bleeding isn’t easing,” Scar orders.

The other guy doesn’t answer directly, just merely growls “Mother fucker,” under his breath and storms out.

“Where are your glasses?” Scar asks. As I slowly stop, I point to the cupboard. He briefly moves away before pouring me a glass of water. “Sip this,” he says, holding the glass in front of me. I stare at him, tears still filling my eyes as I take it with shaky hands and begin to sip the water. He affectionally tucks my hair behind my ear. “That’s it, Angel. I promise when we get back to the club, I will get you something stronger, but right now are you good to go?” he asks gently.

I place the glass down and nod, but as I move to get off the counter, Scar stops me.

“I’ve got you Angel, hold on,” he whispers in my ear. His hands clasp under my behind and I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. His hand cups the back of my head, placing a soft kiss on the side of my head. “I’ve got you,” he assures me again. As he feels my body tighten, I worry I’m too heavy for him, but he strides through the house and outside to a van in no time. I keep my face buried in his neck, breathing in his scent to help calm me. The sound of others getting in surround us but I’m clinging to Scar like he’s my lifeline. “Angel, there are going to be some loud explosions,” he whispers softly in my ear.

No sooner have the words left his mouth, the loud BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! vibrates through my entire body.

“Yeah baby, now that is a freaking masterpiece,” I hear a guy say.

I slowly lift my head and as my eyes connect with Scar’s, his gaze quickly flickers down to my neck.

He places his hand over my neck. “Need to keep this on Angel, to help stem the bleeding,” he says.

I look over his shoulder, and my eyes immediately connect with my father’s murderous gaze. My entire body tenses and Scar knows immediately what caused it.

“Rage,” Scar orders.

“On it,” the scary tattooed looking one says and hits my father hard on the back of the head, knocking him out.

I’m scared to look around the rest of the van, not quite sure if I’m ready to see the other club members. To be honest, I kind of wish they could hit me over the head and knock me out so I could forget this day.

We come to a stop and the van door is flung open, the loud sound making me jump. “Easy Angel, we are here,” Scar assures me. Others climb out first and then I follow. Scar takes hold of my hand in his, helping me step out of the van on shaky legs.

“We will take him round to the warehouse and meet you there,” one of the guys says. He jumps back in the van before it speeds off again.

I look up at him, wanting to know where this warehouse is and what they plan on doing to him. I open my mouth, but then quickly shut it again, realising that I would rather not know. Scar wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks us into the clubhouse. My eyes dart around everywhere as I take in my surroundings, when suddenly a beautiful woman with jet black hair wearing a pair of skin- tight jeans and knee-high stiletto boots strides up to us, her curvy hips swaying with each step she takes. She reminds me of Jessica Rabbit , but the more edgier rock version. Her eyes come to me and she smiles.

“Star, this is Elsie,” Scar introduces us.

She practically shoves Scar’s arm off of my shoulder, replacing it with hers as she walks us further into the club. “Hey sweet, I’m Star. Now, let’s get you a nice stiff drink and then we can get you all fixed and cleaned up,” she says softly.

I look down at myself, only now realising that I’m covered in Layton’s blood. My stomach lurches and I cover my mouth with my hand.

“I know, don’t worry. We will take care of you,” she says with a gentle squeeze on my shoulder. “Go on!” she yells at Scar. “You need to be there.”

I look back at Scar, but he pauses, just watching me, so I give him a reassuring nod that I’m okay and he can go. He watches me for a long moment before he turns and leaves. I mean, I’m sure I am okay. Hell, I have no idea.

It’s then that I realise I recognise her voice. “Chic Couture,” I breathe.

She smiles and nods before opening a door to a small room. Inside there is a hospital type bed, a tray with medical supplies on, and a small woman with black bobbed hair pulling on a pair of surgical gloves.

My feet stop immediately, my body freezing.

“It’s okay, this is Dixie. She is a qualified nurse. Scar asked her to take a look at the cut on your neck as it won’t stop bleeding,” Star informs me, keeping her voice calm and soothing as she speaks. “I will get one of the Prospects to get you a drink. What do you want?” she asks.

“Gin and tonic,” I blurt out, thinking I could down one about now to calm my nerves. Star nods and briefly sticks her head out the door, speaking to someone before she then comes to stand at my side as I perch myself on the bed.

“I’m going to just clean the area, and then take a batter look at what we’ve got,” Dixie says. I tilt my head back and let her clean my neck. “Okay, I’m thinking I will need to stitch this. It’s not very deep, because well, if it was deep, you wouldn’t be sat here now, but it is a long cut across your neck, which is why it keeps breeding,” she says with a nod.

“Breeding?” I repeat, a confused frown on my face.

Her cheeks turn a little pink. “I sometimes say the wrong word. It’s no big deal. It’s just a thing that I do,” she says, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” I apologise.

“Don’t apologise. How could you know?” Star asks with a shrug. “Dixie’s little wrong word issue actually makes conversations a whole lot more fun,” Star states as she squeezes Dixie’s shoulder.

“Okay, if you could lay back and tilt your shin up a little,” she instructs. I smile at her misused word and lay back, tilting my chin back.

She’s about to start the stitches when there’s a knock at the door and a huge guy enters, carrying my gin and tonic. “Sorry, here is the drink.”

Star takes it. “Thanks Tiny.” He nods and closes the door behind him as Star hands me the drink. “You may want to knock some back before she starts,” she suggests. Before she can say anything else, I glug the drink back and then hand her back the empty glass. “I will get you another.” She smirks.

“Thanks, and I think that was a double,” I wheeze, feeling the warmth from the alcohol trickle through my body. In no time at all, Star is placing another full glass of gin and tonic in my hand. I knock that back as Dixie pauses patiently. “Okay, I’m good.” I nod, feeling a little more relaxed with two very strong gins flowing through my veins.

Dixie begins and fuck me it hurts. I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the sheet beneath me tightly in my fists. A hand prises my fingers open, and I peel my eyes open to see Star smiling at me, holding my hand comfortingly in hers. I exhale a breath as Dixie continues.

“You know, the guys always act tough, but I’ve seen them in here getting stitches done, and I swear they look like they want to whimper like a little baby,” Star snorts.

“Well, I’m going to look like Frankenstein after this,” I mumble, being careful not to move too much.

“You will look like a freaking sexy as fuck Frankenstein,” Star states.

The door opens and Tiny brings in another drink for me. “Thank you,” I tell him. He nods and quickly retreats back out the door. Star holds the drink for me while Dixie finishes off. “Is he really called Tiny?” I ask. I hadn’t noticed, but this time he had put a straw in. Star lets go of my hand and as she holds the glass in one hand and the straw in the other, she holds it to my mouth as I take a long suck.

Star smiles down at me. “He is,” she answers.

“The man is enormous,” I state.

“He is,” she agrees.

Dixie soon finishes, placing a large dressing over it. Star helps me sit up and my head spins a little from the gin. I let out a giggle. “Oops.”

“Okay, so you need to shower, but you can’t get your stitches wet. Are you okay with someone helping you?” Dixie asks.

I shrug, feeling the buzz of the alcohol now in full effect. “I will help her. Dixie, you want to Drop Queenie a message and see if she can rustle something up?” Dixie nods as Star links her arm with mine and leads me to a room down the hall. It’s a plain room, not much in it. I close my eyes and breathe it in, knowing exactly who sleeps here.

“Scar’s room.” I smile.

Star smirks as she walks over to the draws and pulls out one of his T-shirts. “It is. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Star says as she ushers me into the bathroom. I discard my clothes, not feeling at all self-conscious, which is definitely down to the gin. Star holds the shower head, keeping it away from my neck as she hands me Scar’s shower gel.

As I wash my body, the water runs red at my feet. I blink and instantly look away.

“Don’t you dare,” Star warns. I look at her. “I’m guessing this is the blood of the guy that marked your body like that?” she says, gesturing to the bruises that are dotted all over my body. I don’t answer. “He deserved to die. In fact, he deserved to suffer more than what he did. I am not sure why his life was instantly taken, because I know for fucking certain if the guys knew he did this to you, he would be in that warehouse right next to your daddy. He would be made to pay for what he has done,” Star states adamantly.

“Scar shot him in the head while he had me on my knees with the kitchen knife to my throat, while he forced me to suck him off,” I confess.

Star’s faced turns to one of pure fury. “Mother fucker,” she seethes. I angrily wipe away a tear that escapes. “If I can give you one bit of advice, from what I’ve learnt from these guys, but especially my man, is that you no longer have to live that life. You will no longer just accept it because you think that is all you are worth. You are worth more, you deserve better, and from this day forward you will be treated as such. I was at a point in my life where I thought that living with it, just accepting that was my life was what I deserved, that it was what my life was meant to be. That was until Ghost came into my life, all bossy and possessive.” She pauses, a small affectionate smile playing across her lips as she talks about him. “He gave me what I deserved, he still does, and I know now that I am too fucking good to ever be treated like that. You are, too,” she affirms.

I’m not sure what to say to her. “I’m not sure if you are giving me a compliment or chastising me,” I state honestly.

Star throws her head back and laughs. “Girl, it’s fucking both because that is my love language.”