Read Silent Scars (Surviving #4) Online
Authors: Ada Frost
“Lord have mercy,” I uttered.
“I’ve tried that. Trust me. He doesn’t answer prayers where Lou and my pixie are concerned. Man knows his place,” Will said solemnly.
“I blame you entirely for the fact I’m even here today.”
“Me? Why?” Will asked innocently.
“Because you had the brain fart of an idea to bring her here. I said her safety was in jeopardy.”
“Ry, dude, chill. You’re here. I’m the freaking boss. I have her back, and there are two guys stationed outside.”
I glanced behind me at the closed front door in shock. I knew we had a tail.
“I know she’s important, okay? I’ve taken precautions,” Will confirmed.
“But still.”
“Relax.”
“So the kiss.” Lou interrupted Will and my stare down.
“Just...leave it, okay?” I widened my eyes and begged Lou. But the treacherous hobbit just grinned at me.
“Do you need pointers on how to satisfy a woman?” My dickhead brother asked as he sauntered over to Emily and slid his arm around her, snagging her hand as she lifted another chocolate covered finger to her mouth, and he licked it for her.
“Not helping, Will,” I growled.
“What, I have two buns baking nicely. I can give you some pointers,” he said, stroking his hands over Emily’s stomach. Some of the building tension inside me fluttered away at the pure happiness on my brother’s face.
“Just go fu–” Alfie and Aloura chose that moment to enter the kitchen so I coughed out
fudge sauce
like a total idiot.
Aloura paused in the doorway; her cheeks heated when five pairs of eyes stared at her. She pushed her glasses up her nose and pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands before clasping them in front of her. She looked so lost and fucking sexy in that moment I wanted to go over to her, wrap her in my arms, and devour her ruby lips.
Shit.
“We were just talking about fudge sauce. Do you like it Aloura?” Lou asked.
“Erm...yeah sure.”
“Do you prefer it hot? I do. It’s so addictive. The thick dark naughtiness, the sinful sexiness you know you shouldn’t taste but you just can’t resist. No matter how much you try and resist, its allure is too much, and you just have to take one...little...sample.” The room was deathly silent. Aloura stood dumbfounded, and I wanted to laugh when her thick lashes fanned rapidly as she blinked at Lou. She glanced at me, but almost as if she knew there was a double meaning to all the “fudge” talk, she yanked her gaze away and stared straight at Will. The horror on her face was almost comical. Her cheeks bloomed bright red, and I tried not to imagine if her nipples were the same rosy red right now. Her hands twisted in her sweater; she tapped the toe of her foot against the floor.
The refrigerator door slammed shut gaining our attention. Alfie headed back over to Aloura, totally oblivious to the silent adults in the room. He held out a purple juice bottle.
“Wanna play some more?” he asked her.
The delight and relief on her face was both breathtaking and crippling. My little buddy slid his hand into hers and turned to lead her back outside.
“Alfie, did you get your sister a drink?”
“No.” He tugged on Aloura’s hand, trying to escape.
“Aloura, you don’t have to drink a Fruit Shoot. I can get you something else,” Lou offered. Her tone almost apologetic, as if she realised she had embarrassed her.
“No, it’s fine really.” The door closed behind them.
“I wasn’t being cruel,” Lou said. She looked on the verge of tears. “I didn’t know she was so shy.”
“Lou, it’s fine,” I interrupted, hating the tension in the kitchen.
“No, it’s not.” She placed her spatula on the worktop and wiped her hands down her jeans. “Excuse me a sec.” She practically ran from the kitchen to Jo calling after her.
When I headed outside to the rear of the property, Alfie had Aloura playing Legos on the grass. She had Molly, Lou and Jo’s youngest kid, in her lap and was fending off her grabby little hands. I glanced to my left and spotted Dominic and Eve sitting on garden chairs. Their little girl, Imogen, sleeping on her daddy’s chest.
“Hey,” I said, heading over to them. Eve was Lou’s sister and Dominic was her husband. They had Imogen around the same time Lou had Molly. “Has my nephew worn her out already?”
Eve smiled gently. She was a little less nervous around me now. When I first was introduced to her, I thought she was going to run for the hills. It wasn’t until Jo explained what a sick bastard her ex was that I understood her anxiety around men. So I always tried to approach her with a little caution.
“I think she’s teething so we’ve had a couple of restless nights, and she is drooling like crazy. She will only sleep on her daddy’s chest. If he hands her to me or puts her in her cot, she wakes up.” Eve reached over and stroked her daughter’s head of thick dark hair. “She always acts this way when she’s coming down with something or teething.”
I want that.
The shocking thought almost forced me to fall to my knees. But there was no denying it. I wanted what they had. A wife and a kid to call my own. I glanced out into the yard at Aloura with Molly in her lap and Alfie vying for her attention. The genuine bright smile on her face never faulted, even when Molly stuck her hands in Aloura’s mouth as she was speaking to Alfie. She would make someone an ideal wife one day. He would be the luckiest son of a bitch alive.
But it would never be me. I would never deserve her.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I cursed a final time. I’d watched the YouTube video over and over to try and get my makeup right. Smoky eyes is what I was aiming for, not psycho racoon.
“Aloura, it’s time to go,” Ryan shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Grumbling, I ran my fingers through my hair one more time. I rarely wore my hair in anything but a practical bun. It was easy, no-fuss. Having to curl my hair so it didn’t look quite so – bleh, was a pain. I had dark, almost black hair like Mum. It wasn’t straight, nor curly. It was just kind of there. It was incredibly long, so it took a ridiculous amount of time to dry and curl. I should consider having it cut really.
My phone alerted me to a text.
Harry: Where is my photo?
Me: I’m sulking. YouTube sucks balls.
Harry: If you were watching a video about sucking balls, I highly doubt you were on YouTube
Me: HarbloodyHar
!
??
Harry: Why you stressing?
Me: I’m fine, NOT stressing.
Harry: ???
I huffed out an annoyed breath and typed out how I had tried to do my makeup according to the video, and I ended up looking like a racoon. My shorts were too tight, my top was probably way out of fashion, and these heels were killing me.
Me: Shorts are for the beach, not clubbing. Can I not wear my chucks? These heels are
crippling me.
Harry: Don’t you dare. And stop worrying, show a little skin for a change. I’ll be a
little late sorry.
Me: I’ve decided I don’t like you.
Harry: I LOVE U, have fun and stay safe x
I didn’t reply. My hands shook and I was certain any moment now I would throw up. What if I looked ridiculous? I’d begged to go out. I stupidly thought a night drinking would loosen Ryan up. But since he had conceded he’d been nothing but a ball of tension, he’d called ahead to the club to request a VIP area solely for my use. Me and all of my entourage. I was going to look completely ridiculous with no friends and three bodyguards. But Ryan had insisted that if I wanted to go out, the club needed to be secure. Will, of course, had cleared this, even when I’d begged him not to.
“Aloura, the others have already arrived. Can we please go?”
I knotted my hands in front of me and left the safety of my bedroom. When I reached the top of the stairs, Ryan was looking up. He blinked a few times before turning and heading over to the door. I hesitantly stepped down each step, praying I wouldn’t face plant. Although, it would be a perfect excuse not to go out. He held the door open and stared silently past me, avoiding looking at me all together. “Do I look okay?”
“Yes,” he replied, without glancing in my direction. He shifted and concentrated his attention outside.
“Are you sure? I can change.”
“We don’t have time. We need to leave.” He ushered me out, activated the alarm, and locked the door. I waited for him rather than getting into the car. He was driving; he didn’t want to drink tonight. My stomach twisted, and stupid tears prickled my eyes. I turned away from him so he wouldn’t see I was freaking out, or that my cheeks were stinging from embarrassment. I’d demanded this night out.
I was going to kill Harry for this.
He was the one to suggest what I should wear. I just wanted to feel and look pretty for once. This entire plan had backfired.
“Let’s go,” Ryan rumbled, his voice curt and pretty much annoyed.
“Sorry for being late.”
“Just get in,” he snapped. Ordinarily, I would have snapped back, but right now I was verging on crying, throwing up, or running back into the house to put on my pj’s and play the piano until my fingers hurt.
The car journey to the club was relatively short, but the awkward silence made it feel epically long. I stared out of the passenger side window and nervously picked at my thumb nail. Stupidly, I had wanted to impress him. I’d wanted to look – well, I’d hoped sexy. Not
fine.
Even my own father offered better compliments than that.
The car slowed, and my stomach dropped when I saw the lights of the club. Ryan pulled into the car park and when we stopped, I hesitantly stepped down onto the asphalt. I made my way over to the doors. I knew he wouldn’t be far behind me. He still hadn’t spoken to me. And I felt like a fool because I just wanted to cry.
We reached the entrance, and the men at the doors both looked at my chest rather than my face.
“Evening, sweetheart,” one of them said.
I opened my mouth to reply when I felt a large warm hand slide possessively around my hip. I glanced to my side to see Ryan glaring at the bouncers. A little flurry of butterflies took flight in my sick stomach. As soon as we entered the dark club, Ryan released me, and I felt bereft without the heat of him. His gaze was searching the club. I followed his line of sight and caught a tall burly guy at the far end of the club nod in his direction. Ryan’s attention spanned to the other end of the club, and again, an almost twin of the first guy was standing at the fire exit.
“See those guys? Stay within view at all times.” His deep voice rumbled into my ear. “We have guys on the mezzanine if they lose you.” I glanced up at the balcony area, and sure enough two guys dressed in black were watching me.
That didn’t feel creepy at all.
He shifted beside me and grumbled what I was sure was some curse.
He lifted his hand and waved to someone. “We’ve been ambushed.” He pointed. When I followed his finger, I wanted to crawl under the nearest table and hide. Lou, Emily and a group of people were huddled around a table. I knew we had to join them but motioned towards the restrooms. I needed to wipe some of this gunk from my face and see if it was possible to yank my shorts a little lower.
“Shall I get you a drink?”
I pondered his question, wondering what I could drink with the highest alcohol content. But then I second guessed myself, scared his friends would think me a lush.
“A purple rain cocktail, please.”
He dipped his chin and waited for me to leave. I made my way through the crowds to the ladies, and just as I entered the hallway, I turned to glance behind me. Ryan was watching me. When he saw me, his expression darkened before he shook his head, clearly annoyed, and headed to the bar.
“He
really
hates the shorts,” I muttered to myself. The start of the evening and already I wanted it to be over.
There was a queue inside the ladies, but I only needed a mirror, so I manoeuvred my way through to the far end where it seemed less crowded. I grabbed a handful of tissues out of my bag and held them under the water. I should have brought some makeup wipes with me. Just as I lifted the tissues, someone called my name.
“Aloura?” I turned, my hand still suspended mid-air and offered a weak smile when I saw the absolutely flawless Emily. Even pregnant with twins, she was stunning. All golden waves of gorgeously soft hair. Her makeup was natural, accentuating her beauty rather than trying to create it like I had.
“Hi.” My voice quivered.
“You just got here?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry; we haven’t been here long. I think I should explain we’ve kind of hijacked your night. Ry was stressing to Will about it, so we decided to gate crash. But so far I’ve probably spent more time in here. The twins seem to use my bladder as a trampoline.” She glanced down at my outfit and back up. Her mouth gaped slightly. “Bloody hell, I wish I had those legs. They go on for miles.”
I tugged at the hem of my shorts. “I should, maybe, have worn jeans. I feel a little silly.”
“You look amazing,” she retorted. I averted my gaze to the soggy tissue in my hand. Emily stepped closer to me.
“What’s that for?”
I released an embarrassed laugh and pointed to my face. “I was just going to wipe some of this off. I think I went a little OTT.”
“You look like you’re ready to either burst into tears or throw up.”
“I’m that transparent, huh?” I joked, but she didn’t laugh. She offered me a sympathetic smile instead, which made me feel even worse.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I promise what happens in the ladies bathroom, stays in the ladies bathroom.” She winked and a genuine smile curved her perfect mouth. She really was stunning.
I let out a frustrated breath and tightened my fist around the damp tissue. “I rarely go out, mainly, because I don’t have many, if any friends. That’s why my group tonight consists of me and five bodyguards. I go to Harry’s place a couple times a month, but because everyone already knows me there, they pay no attention, so I wear jeans and a hoody. Tonight I wanted to fit in, or at least kind of blend with the crowd, so I asked Harry for suggestions on what to wear. Well, actually he pointed out this corset type top, but I wasn’t wearing that. But now I feel ridiculous, Ryan is annoyed with me, and I look like a prostitute racoon. I just want to go home.” I finished on a whine and lowered my chin to avoid looking at Emily any longer. My cheeks were on fire I was so mortifyingly embarrassed.
“Why is Ryan annoyed with you?”
That’s all she got from that?
I chided myself because clearly, she was his friend and concerned as to why I had upset him. Any friend would be.
“Because... “ I paused when I saw Lou heading our way. She smiled brightly and waved. Then her eyes roamed over me before a grin spread across her face.
“So that’s why Ryan is in such a delightful mood. He’s like a bear with a sore head out there. Now I understand it isn’t the head on his shoulders causing the probem. He’s standing guard outside the door by the way. It’s like he’s auditioning women before they can enter the toilets. He made me come and see you.”
My stomach twisted painfully. So even his friends could see how annoyed he was.
“I should go home.” I threw the squidgy mess in my hands in the bin behind me.
“What? Why? What did I say?” Lou’s panicked voice hurt my chest. I was spoiling everything for them. I’d go out and promise Ryan I’d stay with my dad so he could come back and spend the evening with his friends. I clenched my jaw and pressed my lips together when I felt a slight quiver. I needed to get a grip of myself.
“She thinks she looks like a tart,” Emily offered bluntly.
“Why would you think that? You look absolutely amazing. I wish I had legs that long. I could wear shorts like that too. If I tried, I’d look like a dumpling.”
“That’s what I said. Your makeup is sexy and your
hair –
I’m kind of verging on hating you for being so abso-freaking-lutely perfect,” Emily said rubbing her hands on my arm.
“Why would you doubt that?” Lou asked.
I lifted my shoulders in a silent
don’t know.
Emily frowned at me a second before she tilted her head and grinned. “What
exactly
did Ryan say when he saw you?”
I swallowed; did they really need me to relive the humiliation again? But at their expectant faces I spilled everything from coming down the stairs to entering the club.
“He said you looked
fine?”
I nodded.
“Fine?
Those were his exact words?”
I considered it a moment. “Well, actually I asked if I looked okay, and he said yes.” Lou and Emily stared at one another before they both burst into fits of laughter. I glared at them before anger replaced my mortification.
“Oh my God, it’s finally happened,” Lou said, breathing hard.
“Our boy has grown up,” Emily offered.
The pair were insane. I glanced between then, having no clue what the hell was wrong with them.
“Aloura, Ryan isn’t pissed at you. He’s pissed because he knows every guy in this club is going to be drooling. You’re the prey amongst the wolves out there, babe.”
“But –”
“Poor deluded Ryan’s head is a battlefield, truly. He’s pissed because he is clearly trying very hard to resist you, and you are not playing fair.”
“He wouldn’t even look at me.”
Lou glanced at Emily. “If I know these Senior men, like I think I do, if Ryan watched you for a second longer, he would have had you stripped naked and pressed against a wall before banging your brains out. Trust me on this.”