Chapter 19 #2
Scar woke up twice on the ride back to Mount Grove. Tessa had encouraged him to allow her to give him some morphine. Scar had tried to refuse, but then Sissy put her phone next to his ear and Tally urged him to take the painkiller. Tessa swore it was a low dose, just enough to take the edge off, and he trusted her. Each time he awoke, Sissy’s phone was still next to his ear, Tally’s voice lulling him back to sleep.
The rear of Keys’ new van had two sections, split down the middle. On one side was his computer equipment bolted down to a desk and a cushioned chair connected to a track on the floor. The other side where Scar was had been outfitted into a mini ambulance. It wasn’t big enough to do extensive surgery, but it was stocked to do nearly everything else.
After the third time waking, Scar tried to sit up.
“Uncle Bulldog!”
“Shit!”
Hands like liquid fire gripped his shoulders steadying him. Scar flinched but allowed José to get him upright enough that he was leaning against the van wall with his feet down dangling over the bed. The blanket Tessa had placed on him covered his waist and hips; his top half was still bare from Tessa’s earlier examination.
José sat down next to him on the cot. He picked up Sissy’s phone that had fallen in the folds of the blanket. Scar could hear Tally’s voice asking what was going on.
“He’s fine,” José assured her. “The pigheaded dickwad just decided he was going to sit up on his own.” He raised an eyebrow at Scar as if waiting for him to argue the slur. Scar did not. “Good. It sounds like you’re maybe a half hour behind us.”
José held the phone out for Scar. He accepted it, noticing he was still hooked up to an IV. Sissy was sitting in the front passenger seat next to Keys, who was driving. Tessa and Bear were on the rear bench and the empty office chair was swiveling like José had stood up from it.
Scar put the phone to his ear.
“Scar, can you hear me?” He blew into the phone to indicate he could. “Bulldog says you’re almost back to the clubhouse. I’m going to go. Please listen to what Tessa says and don’t be a stubborn ass. I keep encouraging Tom to break the speed limit, but he refuses. Drives slower than my grandma,” she grumbled. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He closed his eyes, trying to process the warm feeling inside his chest that he would see her again.
“I know,” she said in barely a whisper. There was empathy in her voice, like she could sense through the phone the overwhelming feeling brewing inside him. “We have a lot to talk about, but not now. You need to concentrate on getting better and I need to concentrate on not murdering Tom if he doesn’t drive faster!”
Scar’s lips twitched. He didn’t remember a lot that she’d said over the past couple of hours, fading in and out as he did, but he was pretty sure most of it was senseless. She was speaking just to help calm him, and it had worked.
He had so many questions for her, but she was right that it wasn’t important now. The important thing was that they would be together again soon—and this time there would be no secrets between them.
He was hers. All the remaining pieces of him. They were hers, to do with as she would.
After Tally disconnected the call, Scar lowered the phone to the cot. He wished he had a way to speed time up. He needed to be with her now , not soon .
Tessa stood, carefully balancing as she walked towards him. “Are you feeling better?”
He nodded. It wasn’t much better, but at least he didn’t feel like his next breath might be his last anymore.
“I want to do an x-ray when we get back. I’m concerned you have some broken ribs.”
Scar twisted, doing a self-assessment. His right side pained him, but not in a way that made him think his ribs were broken. Likely bruised. He shook his head at her.
Tessa’s eyes narrowed. “I’d still like to do the scan. It doesn’t have to be today,” she added quickly when he scowled, “but it would make me feel better. I know it would make Tally feel better too.”
Scar’s eyes narrowed. That was a low blow, but the smile Tessa gave him said that she knew it and would use it again if it meant she got her way.
José chuckled next to him. “Well played, Tessa.”
Her grin widened. After checking Scar’s IV bag, she went back to sit by her husband. Scar watched her to make sure she got there okay. The ride was currently smooth, but they were still moving at a steady speed. Once she was seated and buckled back in, Scar’s gaze moved to José.
His brother was staring at him with a mixture of elation and anger.
Scar looked away, not sure how to express his regret for letting José continue to think Scar was dead. But also how he wouldn’t change a thing. If he’d told his club he was still alive, he wouldn’t have met Tally.
And he wouldn’t change anything about the month he’d spent with her. Not a single damn thing.
José kicked his booted foot into Scar’s. “You don’t get to look away from me, asshole. You fucking lied to me. To all of us. You made us think you were dead . Do you have any idea how long I searched the riverbank for you? Abby had to come down to the river, through the fucking mud, to get me to stop. My wife was near those waters.”
Scar flinched, but it wasn’t like he’d walked away from the river of his own accord. It wasn’t like he’d faked getting shot and falling into the water.
But he had returned to Mount Grove without informing any of the club that he was still alive. That was on him.
José kicked him harder. Scar turned his head to face his brother. “I am so fucking pissed at you. Do you have any idea what standing over your grave did to me? Did to all of us? Do you have any comprehension just how much you mean to all of us? Or is your brain so fucking warped that you think you don’t matter? That you think your life doesn’t matter.”
The raw emotion, the sheer grief, in José’s voice clogged Scar’s throat and he had to look away again. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
“You walked out of those caves, but you haven’t been living. You’ve been punishing yourself for living. And it ends here, Julian. Right here, right now. Because that woman,” José pointed out the rear window behind Bear’s head, “deserves it. If you can’t do it for you, do it for her. Because Tally needs you to start living, Julian.”
Scar had to force himself to take a breath. He knew José was right. He just wasn’t sure how to start living.
The next time José’s boot collided with his, it was the gentlest of the three. Scar’s eyes moved over to meet his brother’s. “It’s okay to ask for fucking help, dumbass. You’ve been there for all of us and we just proved we can be here for you too.”
Scar’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t wanted that, never wanted to be the reason for his brothers to be in danger. They’d all walked away this time, but Scar didn’t know if it was finished. What had happened at Primis? Where was Alpha? What if the next time Alpha came for him, his brothers stood in Alpha’s way, but none of them walked away?
He couldn’t go through that. Not again.
He couldn’t watch another brother die.
Sissy turned around in the passenger seat to face the back. “Uncle Bulldog dropped a few more f-bombs than I would, but ditto.”
Scar looked at Sissy, and for the first time saw the strong woman before him instead of the sixteen-year-old girl she’d been when he’d met her. His need to protect her, to protect all of them, was so ingrained into him that he doubted he’d ever be able to change it. But he didn’t think that was José’s point. He didn’t have to stop protecting them.
He just didn’t have to do it alone.
Scar turned back towards José.
There must have been something on his face or in his eyes, because José smiled at him. “Now you’re getting it.” He indicated to Sissy’s phone, still on the cot next to Scar’s blanketed thigh. “She’s great, by the way. I really like her.”
Pride swelled in Scar—and fucking damn if he didn’t feel his cheeks heat at José’s approval of his woman.
* * *
Keys’ van was the first one back. Scar was slow stepping down out of the rear of the van, but he managed without falling flat on his face. Tessa still had him hooked up to the IV, wanting him to get the last of the fluids in the saline bag. She promised she would disconnect it as soon as the bag was empty. Since it would be hard to get a shirt on over the line, Scar had the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
Harper was the first out of the clubhouse. Tears flowed down her olive-skinned cheeks as she rushed over, halting just before she collided with Scar. “You have no idea how good it is to see you,” she sobbed out, hiccuping slightly. She raised her hand but didn’t reach for him. “May I?”
Scar steeled himself before nodding.
Harper lightly placed her hand over the blanket on his left shoulder. She did not squeeze or grip him. Closing his eyes, he accepted the burn, knowing he’d caused her just as much pain in recent months.
After maybe fifteen seconds, Harper lifted her hand. Slowly, Scar opened his eyes again. She was wiping the tears off her cheeks. “The kids don’t know yet. We’ve been keeping them at Bulldog and Abby’s. Steel put out the word that no one is to say anything to them until you’re ready.”
Scar nodded his appreciation. Being reunited with his brothers and their women was hard enough. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face his nieces and nephews yet.
“I’m headed back there now, but Bear gave me a head’s up you were on your way and I had to see you.”
Shifting so his IV bag and the edges of the blanket were in the same hand, Scar tentatively raised his hand to Harper’s shoulder. But his hand started to shake something violently before he came close to touching the thin material of her shirt.
Giving him an encouraging smile, Harper stepped back out of arm’s reach. “It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. We’ll catch up later.”
Scar lowered his hand, his fingers clenching into a fist at his failure.
Harper looked over Scar’s shoulder. “Did you need to stay with him or did you want to come back with me?”
“He’s being a stubborn ass,” Tessa said as she jumped from the van. Scar stepped to the side so she didn’t have to squeeze between him and the open door. “I’ll head back with you since I have no hope of doing anything with him until Tally gets here.”
Harper smiled, meeting Scar’s eyes. “I like her, Scar. She’s fierce.”
“She’ll have to be,” Bear said as he too jumped down. “To deal with this lot.”
Tessa rose up on tippy toes to kiss the underside of her much-taller husband’s chin. “Take out his IV when the bag’s empty?”
“You got it, Mama Bear. Kiss our cubs for me. I’ll be there soon.” To Harper, he said, “Lucky’s cage is about twenty minutes out.”
The sound of a vehicle coming down the drive drew their attention, but Scar’s shoulders slumped when he recognized one of the club’s SUVs.
“He needs to hydrate,” Tessa called over her shoulder as she and Harper headed towards José’s house and their babies.
“Love it when she gets all doctor-bossy,” Bear quipped before gesturing for Scar to head inside. “Fucking sexy. Too bad she’s put a cap on more cubs for now. Says I need to give her uterus a rest. Personally, that woman is never hotter than when she’s knocked up with my cub.”
Keys rushed past, looking like a kid who just found out his parents still had a sex life.
As Scar stepped into the clubhouse, he took a deep breath. The building hadn’t been used as a distillery in many years, yet the malty scent still permeated the walls. Scar hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since the night José had come to find him at the bar in Texas. Yet that sweet and yeasty aroma comforted him, gave him a sense of home.
Others followed them inside. Cage had his arm around Angel’s shoulders, smiling down at her like she was his entire world. With their left hands laced together at her collarbone, Scar noticed their rings for the first time. Both had black silicone bands on their third fingers. When had they gotten married?
Scar paused in front of the bar. The back wall between the locked glass cabinets that held the club’s liquor were two framed cuts. In Memoriam was in big, bold letters above them.
The first was Lionheart’s, the prospect they’d lost nearly two years ago. He’d died saving Harper’s life. The club had buried him in full colors to honor his sacrifice.
The second was Scar’s. Not his real cut, that one he had hidden in Tally’s apartment, but a memorial cut. To honor the dead.
Except Scar wasn’t a member of the club. Not anymore. He still considered the Via Daemonia his family, his brothers, but he wasn’t one of them. He’d left, yet they’d honored him as they would a patched member.
Ivy and Scissors were chatting as they entered, aiming for where Sissy was sitting on one of the couches. Another vehicle arrived outside. The door opened to reveal Steel, Grumpy, Papaw, and Bones.
Bear was removing Scar’s IV when the last vehicle pulled in, driven by Lucky. Soon, they were all in the clubhouse. The back door opened as Jasmine, Abby, and Sophia walked in. Scar quickly put on his black, long-sleeve shirt, not wanting to startle the ladies with the sight of his marred chest.
Everyone seemed to be talking, greeting each other, or chatting aimlessly. Aerial beat Jumper to greet Jasmine, who laughed and scratched the German Shepherd’s ears playfully, before straightening to kiss her husband. Fiancé , Scar corrected himself, recalling Keys’ message that they hadn’t gotten married in April.
Yet something else Scar had missed.
Pumpkin was the only patched member missing. He was still in rehab, as far as Scar knew, and likely would be remaining there for a while. Scar would make the trip to see him soon, though he had no idea if the club was keeping Pumpkin in the dark too, not wanting to add stress when Pumpkin had so much healing to do.
Scar had to look away when José reached Abby. There was intimacy, and then there was Abby and José. Their love was so powerful, it felt like an intrusion to witness.
A hush fell over the clubhouse. Scar didn’t notice at first, too busy looking at Sophia to ensure himself that she’d walked away from their ordeal at the bridge unscathed. From the way Pirate and Sophia greeted each other in a passionate embrace, with Pirate’s hand possessively gripping Sophia’s ass, Scar would guess she was doing just fine. Their eyes met over Pirate’s shoulder and Sophia smiled at Scar, mouthing, “Thank you.”
He nodded once, and then he heard it.
“Click… Click… Click…”
Scar’s head snapped to the left—and there she was. Her long obsidian hair loose, just as he’d dreamed about in that fucking interrogation room. Her milk chocolate skin glowed in the afternoon sun shining in through the open double doors behind her. She wore a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, but fuck if Scar could have described them. His heart, his very soul, were transfixed by her beautiful face.
For the first time since seeing her on the streets of Atlanta, Scar let himself feel . He let himself hope . There were no barriers now, no secrets. She’d saved him in more ways than she’d ever know.
Scar didn’t need to move. He didn’t need to indicate where he was in proximity to the room. He stood stock-still and waited. She’d come this far… Would she come a little bit further?
He knew the moment she found him. Watched as that little smile he adored so much touched her lips.
Her steps were confident and sure as she moved. The clubhouse—fuck, the rest of the world—could have burned in that moment and Scar wouldn’t have noticed or cared.
Impatience got the better of him, and he met her halfway. She halted directly in front of him and that little smile grew. Her face was tipped up at him, just slightly off center. She was wearing a pair of brown eyes today.
Their hands met first, both shaking with anticipation and nerves. Her skin was so warm, but it didn’t burn. Like his, her hands were calloused, a mark of her dedication to her trade. As one, their hands moved upwards, going from palm to wrist and then wrist to forearm.
He marveled at the feel of her delicate flesh. He’d been prepared to burn for her, just to know the touch of her skin. Yet the tingle he felt held no pain, no bite. It burned, yes, but in a way that made him crave more of her.
Scar stepped closer, their hands reaching for each other’s biceps. No words passed between them, but then, no words needed to be said. Their declaration was in the tips of their fingers, the very breath between them.
Tally stepped closer, their hands grazing the sides of each other’s neck. He knew the moment she felt the scars that marred him. Her happiness waned slightly, her chin trembling as her sensitive fingers traced the ridged lines once more.
He saw a tear escape her right eye and lifted his hand to catch the drop on the edge of his forefinger before it crested onto her silky skin. She had the longest eyelashes. He liked that she wore no makeup; he wanted to see her , not a painted version.
Tally raised her chin slightly, as if seeking his finger. Scar’s hand shook as he rested his palm against her soft cheek. Tally turned into the cup of his hand, nuzzling against his rough flesh. Lifting her own hand, she touched the back of his, securing his hand to her face.
Her other hand, her right hand, lifted to his left cheek. His heart thundered wildly as her fingers trailed down the permanent path etched into his skin. From his temple, past his eye, down his cheek, over his lips, and ending at his stubbled chin.
Scar shuddered, trembling at the unfamiliar sensation that was Tally’s hand on his face.
He was under no delusions that he was cured. He had no wish to touch or be touched by anyone else. This was her, Tally . His Tally. He burned at her touch, but with desire rather than pain. It had been so long since he’d felt even a modicum of passion that it nearly brought him to his knees.
Tally’s hand wandered into his hair, and damn, if Scar didn’t have a moment of embarrassment, knowing he hadn’t showered since the morning he’d been taken from her apartment after destroying Gordon Tremont’s pathetic existence.
Hating the distance between them, Scar bowed his head over hers. Their foreheads met, smooth flesh to smooth flesh. He closed his eyes, shutting out the world. He knew their audience was watching in stunned silence, but he also knew neither of them cared. This moment was theirs and theirs alone.
Their noses rubbed together. It was almost playful, and yet so intimate that Scar couldn’t help but do it again.
Oh, how he burned for this courageous, sensual, strong woman.
And when their lips finally touched, a possessive need overtook him and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Tally Meacham was his. He was never letting her go.
In her arms, under the touch of her hands, Scar knew he was just as incomplete, just as ruined, as he had been yesterday. Broken could be fixed, but Scar didn’t need to be fixed, because Tally accepted and wanted him just as he was.
Flawed, scarred, and entirely hers.