The Eagle’s Scars
THE EAGLE’S SCARS
Vera
“Here. Sit down and have a drink.” Alistair handed me a shot glass as I rested on our leather sofa.
“What’s this?” I examined the liquid in the glass.
“It’s called J?germeister, a digestif to help ease digestion. You’ll need it.”
I sniffed the glass, downed the shot, and let the fire burn down my throat. Alistair followed suit. “Woo. It’s strong stuff,” I remarked, feeling the heat travel to my gut.
“J?germeister is a German name for the term ‘master hunter’ or ‘master of the hunt.’ It’s an appropriate drink for us both.
” Alistair smiled grimly. “My parents sent me to a church-based summer camp a few months after I turned twelve,” he began.
“It was a private camp to help kids with challenges, including ADHD.”
I touched Alistair’s left shoulder while inhaling his addictively musky scent. He looked like an angel with his light-brown curls, emphasized by his widened green eyes. An innocent boy’s soul stared at me, something I had never seen in him. Look deeper, you’ll find him, my heart whispered.
He moved his shoulder and cleared his throat. “One of the camp staff, let’s call her Rachel, found me alone, trying to get some peace from all the noise. She asked if I could help her prepare for a musical matinee.”
“Oh, Scotty. You went with her?”
“I was a pre-teen with a crush on the woman. She had this smile, you know?”
“If it makes you uncomfortable to talk about—”
“Vera, I’m telling this story, and I’ll only tell it to you once. Never again.”
I bit my lip and remained silent.
Alistair sighed, then poured another drink into our shot glasses. “I walked with Rachel to the back of the building. It was empty as everyone was at the beach. I began getting a strange feeling in my gut when we went inside.”
“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass with mine. My shoulders relaxed as the slow-burning liquid heated my body.
Placing his empty glass on the table, Alistair continued talking. “Rachel took me to a small, windowless room and fawned over my hair. As you’ve seen in my childhood photos, I was a fair-haired kid. She undressed me, saying everything was fine and how she loved my blond ringlets.”
“Oh, my God.” My palm covered my mouth, my stomach cinching tight. Alistair had been right all along. I needed the digestif.
“Oh, she was fast. I started to cry, but it was useless. I thought I was saved when another staff member walked in. Want to know what happened instead?”
I shook my head, stunned into silence.
“The man was in his sixties. We called him the ‘Colonel’ because he was an ex-military man, always pleasant and playful. But that playfulness hid something darker,” Alistair said, his voice breaking into a pause.
“God, I wish it hadn’t been real. He pulled an army knife, the blade jagged and mean.
Told me if I didn’t shut up, he’d cut me open. ”
“What happened?” I asked, watching his fingers fidget restlessly.
“I made one bad move trying to break free. I went for a kick at the woman,” he said, eyes flicking downward over his left shoulder.
“The scar,” I whispered.
Alistair’s eyes reddened, tears brimming as his hands trembled. I leaned closer, my own tears falling, and together we wiped them away. His lashes lowered, heavy with the shame of innocence stolen.
“Can I kiss you?” I breathed, my lips inches from his.
“Please. Kiss me.”
Our lips met as my hands framed his face. “You were innocent in all of this,” I whispered against him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I trust you, sweetheart.”
“Can I see your scar now?”
Alistair nodded, fingers moving slowly down his shirt buttons until the fabric fell open, exposing the scar that branded his past. “The Colonel lost his temper. You see it, don’t you? That was his work.”
“I am so sorry this happened to you.”
“I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy. It’s not the dead I fear. It’s the living.”
I let my fingers follow the line of his scar. “Monsters wear many faces.”
“They stripped me, Vera. Used me. Forced me to take more than I could bear...” Alistair’s voice broke, trembling as he lowered his head. His shoulders shook, the weight of it all crashing through him as he wept.
“Scotty, you don’t have to keep talking if it’s tearing you apart.”
“No, sweetheart. I’m giving you all of me—bruises, cuts, and scars. You’ve already given me all of you.”
I nodded, squeezing Alistair’s hand, a silent promise he would never be alone.
His palm settled on my thigh, grounding himself. “There are always monsters who try to silence the innocent,” he said quietly. “Rachel and the Colonel made me swear never to speak of the atrocities they committed against my body.”
“But you spoke up, right? Your parents—”
“I told them. I was examined and treated at Saint John’s, the same hospital where you spent time healing.”
“What happened to the people who hurt you?” I asked.
“My parents went to the police. Rachel and the Colonel were arrested.”
“Where are they now?”
“Rachel’s still rotting in prison. The Colonel walked free the year I graduated college. I kept tabs on him. I had to. Later, I found out he assaulted a nine-year-old girl. Nine, Vera. Can you believe it?”
My throat closed. “Did you ever see him again?”
Alistair’s gaze shifted sideways, and his silence was answer enough.
“Scotty?” I whispered, my finger tracing the scar down to the intricate eagle inked across his skin.
He stayed silent. I already understood. There were reasons men like Angelo existed, reasons Alistair carried that hunger for retribution.
I understood his hatred of evil, why he lived by the creed, “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” We carried the same fire, surviving abuse by vile people who tried to break our bodies but could never touch our souls.
“I’m so sorry, Alistair,” I breathed, my voice trembling. “So damn sorry for what they did to you.”
His eyes flashed with red-hot anger. “Do you know what hurt most? I’ll never forget being only twelve and overhearing my father call me damaged goods. I was in so much pain, so much fear, I wanted to die. I was just a kid.”
“What do you think of me?” he whispered hoarsely. “That I’m some sick and perverted—”
“No,” I refuted. “You did nothing wrong. It was never your fault. Do you understand?”
“It’s the worst memory of my life,” he rasped. “I wish it had never happened.”
I reached up, brushing my tears away with the back of my hand. “Alistair, you’re more than a survivor. You stood up, told your parents the truth. That took courage. You’re not broken. You’re a warrior. You’re a saint.”
“I’m not a saint,” he scoffed. “I’m a monster.”
“You’re a saint. Think of the people you fight for. You’re fighting for Damian and your charity work for the homeless, the sick, women running from domestic violence, and children who survived abuse. You’re also helping my brother. You call yourself a monster? You’re wrong.”
Alistair laughed. “Is that how you see me? As a fucking saint?”
“Of all the people who can understand Julian, there’s only one. You.” I searched Alistair’s wounded soul with my eyes, willing him to see it. “You know his suffering.”
He nodded, offering a half-smile.
“I finally understand your eagle. It isn’t just a mark on your skin. It’s the symbol that carried you. Hope. Strength. Salvation.”
Alistair broke the silence, his voice low. “Can you pray for me?”
I almost laughed through my tears. I was the last person who should pray. But then my gaze caught on the words inked beneath the eagle: Psalm 103: 2–5.
I pressed my lips to his scar and whispered, “God, hear me. Crown this man with your love, so his strength soars like the eagle’s. Protect the man I love with all my heart and soul. Amen.”
“Thank you.” Alistair squeezed my hand, his throat working as tears slid down the hard lines of his cheekbones.
“The abuse. The stigma of ADHD. The battles with my own urges. The two women who ended up pregnant because of my carelessness. For so long, I believed no woman could ever love the shattered soul under this shell. But I was wrong. You love me.”
I cupped his face. “As you love me.”
Alistair’s green eyes lit, shining like emeralds in the light. “Vera Kathryn Richland?”
“Yes?” I lifted his hands to my lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.
“I’m marrying you.”
“In due time,” I teased softly. “But first, there’s one thing I need from you.”
He leaned closer, eyes widening with curiosity. “And what’s that?”
“Always remember, I love you as you are. Don’t change for me.”
He nodded slowly. “My parents were right about you.”
“Oh?” I tilted my head, a smile tugging at my lips.
“They said I found a good woman.”