47. Beautiful Scars Unshakeable
Chapter One
The darkness is absolute. It presses against my eyes like a physical weight. My head throbs with each beat of my heart as consciousness creeps back in. Cold metal bites into my wrists and ankles and the concrete underneath me steals what little warmth I’m struggling to hold on to.
Sharp fragments of memory flash through my mind. Levi's face contorting in horror. Rough hands dragging me through the club's back door. The sharp sting of a needle. Then nothing but darkness.
I want to scream, call for help, but my throat feels like sandpaper and my tongue is dry and swollen. Thoughts drift in and out, none staying, making it impossible to piece together how long I've been here.
A metallic click echoes through the room. Harsh fluorescent lights blast on, flooding the entire room, searing my retinas. I squeeze my eyes shut against the assault.
"Well, well. Look who's finally awake." The voice sends ice through my veins. "Did you miss me, Princess?"
Heavy boots scuff across the floor and stop in front of me. I force my eyes open, blinking against the glare. Garrett looms over me, his blonde hair longer than I remember, his face harder. But those cold, dead eyes—they're exactly the same.
"Seven years is a long time to play look, but don't touch, baby." He crouches down, reaching out to brush my hair back. I jerk away but the chains leave me nowhere to go. "You've grown up so pretty. But then, you always were beautiful. My beautiful, sweet princess."
"Don't touch me." The words come out as a croak.
"Aw, you think you have a choice. That's cute. You thirsty?" He produces a water bottle, unscrewing the cap and squatting down in front of me. "Open up."
Pride wars with desperation. Thirst wins. I let him tip the water into my mouth, hating how good the liquid feels sliding down my raw throat.
"See? You still need me to take care of you." His fingers trail down my cheek. "We were doing just fine before those assholes showed up, weren't we? You got the chance to build up your little life, just the way you wanted. Did I interfere? Nope. Not once. I let you believe you had all the freedom in the world."
My stomach churns. "But I didn't. You were always there. Watching."
"Of course I was. You're mine Sunny. That’s never changed." His grip fastens on my jaw. "But they just couldn't leave you alone, could they? Trying to take what belongs to me."
"I don't belong to anyone."
"Still so stubborn. Don't you remember? You're mine or you're dead." He laughs, the sound sharp and cruel. "You know, when I got the call and they told me you were in the hospital, alive, I knew I'd been given a second chance. A chance to do it right. I was content to keep you in my glass jar, safe on your little shelf. But..."
"They'll find me." The words lack conviction even to my own ears.
"Oh, I'm counting on it." Garrett stands, towering over me. "But, by that time, you're going to remember exactly where you belong. Who you belong to."
Fear claws up my throat as memories of the past surge forward—nights spent trying to disappear into myself while his hands moved over my body. The same hands that killed my father. That almost killed me.
"You're crazy." I struggle to keep my voice steady. "I'm not that scared little girl anymore. I don't belong to you."
"We'll see." He kneels, face inches from mine. His breath reeks of whiskey. "You might start to feel differently after a couple weeks."
His fingers trail down my neck and graze over the ink at my collarbone, tracing over the scar there. I want to scream. To fight. To show him how wrong he is. But my body betrays me, and I freeze.
"We're gonna have so much fun making up for lost time." He stands again, heading for the door. "And when your knights in shining armor finally show up? Well... I've got plans for them too."
The lights click off, plunging me back into darkness. His laughter echoes off the walls as the door slams shut.
I twist in on myself as much as the chains allow, trying to control my ragged breathing. Tears slip down my cheeks silently and I close my eyes—refusing to let them become sobs, refusing to give him the satisfaction. He's right—it’s just like before. Except now there's more at stake.
Levi. Zane. The thought of them walking into whatever trap Garrett has planned makes my chest constrict. But the alternative—being left here alone with him with no hope of ever being rescued—is a terror that threatens to swallow me whole.
The darkness presses in close again, bringing with it memories of every touch, every violation I'd tried so hard to forget over the years. I open my eyes hoping it will stop, but the blackness keeps going on and on and on.
Time bleeds together. Minutes, hours, days—they all feel the same. My muscles scream from being forced into and held in the same position by the chains, and thirst claws at my throat again. It feels like a lifetime ago that Garrett gave me the water.
The door creaks open, and the lights flick on. Fluorescence stabs at my eyes. Two silhouettes fill the doorway.
"Get up." A gruff voice commands.
My legs shake as they unlock the chains from the floor. Rough hands haul me up to my feet, and I bite back a cry as blood rushes back into my limbs bringing sleeping nerves back to life. They drag me forward, not waiting for my feet to find purchase.
Cold air hits my bare skin as we move through the building. It looks I'm being held in some sort of abandoned warehouse. Metal rafters stretch high overhead, and moonlight filters in through dirty windows. Our footsteps echo off concrete walls. I try to memorize the path—left, right, down a long corridor—but everything looks the same.
The grip on my arms tightens as we approach another door. One of the men fumbles with the keys attached to his belt, while the other holds me in place. His fingers dig into my flesh hard enough to bruise.
Once the door is open, they shove me into a room that stinks of bleach and other cleaning supplies. I stumble, catching myself against the wall. A queen size bed sits in the middle of the room, its metal frame bolted to the floor. There's a small table with a lamp, and through another doorway I glimpse a bathroom—toilet, shower—no door, no privacy.
"Boss said you need to get yourself cleaned up." The taller guard's eyes rake over me. "Don't try anything stupid. There's cameras everywhere."
The door slams shut. The lock clicks.
I slide down the wall, wrapping my arms around my knees. The room is warmer, more comfortable than the concrete floor, but I can't stop shaking. Memories of Easton Creek flood back—of all the lessons and time it took for me to learn to be quiet, to be small, to obey. And I still never got it right.
"They'll come for me," I whisper to myself, but the words sound hollow spoken out loud in the empty room. Levi and Zane will tear this place apart looking for me. I have to believe that.
But will there be anything left for them to find?
My gaze drifts to the bathroom and my stomach does a flip. I should welcome the chance to take a shower, to get warm, to get clean. But going in there and turning on that water means accepting this situation. It means following orders.
I press my forehead to my knees, fighting back tears. I spent seven years thinking I was free, only to discover Garrett had been pulling strings the whole time. Now, I'm right back where I started — naked, afraid, and completely at his mercy.
I wasn't lying when I said I'm not that scared teenager anymore. My body may remember, part of me may want to curl up and disappear, but I refuse to let him break me.
Forcing myself up, I stand on shaky legs. One step at a time. Clean up. Gather strength. Watch for opportunities. I may have to play his game for now, but I won't make it easy. Not again.
The bathroom light flickers as I turn it on. No mirror, thank God. I don't want to see the bruises I can feel forming. The water runs ice cold before turning warm, and by the time I step under it, it's steamy hot. It feels good. Much better than I want to admit. It helps clear my head, and centers me here in the present instead of letting me drift away in memories.
A towel hangs on a hook—small mercy that it is. As I dry off, I hear movement outside the door. My heart rate spikes. It's too soon. I'm not ready.
But ready or not, I know what's coming. I fight the panic working its way into my head, into my body.
I wrap the towel around myself, backing into the corner.
Levi and Zane are coming. I have to survive until then. That's all I have to do.
Breathe. Stay present. Don't disappear.
The lock clicks and the door opens.