Silent Scars (Surviving #4) (24 page)

“Sorry,” he uttered against the skin of my neck. I shivered against the warmth of his breath on my skin.

“Never be sorry about that.” I lifted my hands and cupped his face. Gazing directly into his eyes. I wanted to convey every thought I had in that moment to him. His eyes were open, vulnerable, and completely exposed to me. I was holding the most precious gift in my hands. I stretched up and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“I wish that was all the sordid truth,” he grumbled, averting his eyes. I hated the loss of contact. I jumped to my feet, whirled around, and grabbed the blanket from where I had been seated. When I glanced down at it, it was nowhere near big enough for his massive frame, so I held up my finger, asking for one second. I ran into my room, grabbed the fleece bedspread, and went back to join him. I sat in the corner of the sofa and patted my lap. He turned to stare at me as if I had grown two heads.

“Place your head in my lap and tell me the rest.”

His brows knitted together. The gentle tilt of his head almost brought a smile to my lips. A few silent minutes passed as he stared from me to my lap. I knew enough about him now, to discern he was processing whether he was heading into a trap. Finally, he shifted, first kicking off his boots and then pulling his jumper up and over. I completely ignored the flex of his back muscles and the flash of golden skin peeking at me when the shirt rose. And I totally ignored the way his white t-shirt hugged his biceps like a second skin. He glanced at me, before releasing a slow exhale, and slowly he lay down, resting his head in my lap. I wanted to punch the air in victory. I lifted my hand to place it on his head, but yanked it back when he shifted his huge frame and turned his body to face me. He dwarfed the sofa. His long legs looked entirely uncomfortable tucked into the cushions but still partly hanging over the edge.

“You are in no way settled,” I blurted. Hating that he would have to move. His soft chuckle brought a smile to my lips.

“Not in the slightest. You have a couch only suitable for hobbits.”

I giggled and shoved his shoulder, which sent him tumbling backwards off the couch. I made a grab for him but his body was already moving. He landed in a heap at my feet. I covered my mouth to hide my smile, but when his startled gaze met mine, I burst into a fit of laughter.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, the laughter is so remorseful,” he replied jovially. He sat up and pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around his knees. His gentle smile was so warming. The words tumbled out of me before I could stop and assess them.

“We could go lie in my bed.” His eyes widened, and I realised how crappy that sounded. “I meant to lie down, nothing else. Not...I wasn’t implying...I just want to hold you. Like we would have here. Oh hell, I’m totally messing this up.”

“I agree it would be more comfortable,” he said, quieting me. I stared at him a moment, transfixed by those
Dermont
blue eyes as he called them. “Would you like me to make a drink first?”

Slowly, his eyes pinned to mine, and he shook his head.

“Okay.” Why was I suddenly feeling nervous?

I stood and held my hand out for him. He ignored the help, but once he was standing, he slid his massive palm against mine and twined our fingers together. I refused to acknowledge the giddy butterflies flapping around in my stomach. And headed towards my bedroom.

“I’m going to change into my pjs, is that okay?”

He swallowed and bobbed his head. A gentle blush flushed his cheeks. “Should I change?” He motioned down his body and glanced across to where his room was. The colour in his cheeks deepened.

“You would be more comfortable.”

“Okay.” He turned but paused in the doorway. “We...I mean...we need to change the sheets. Last night...they aren’t clean.” I never thought it possible for anyone’s face to redden so much without causing damage. The tips of his ears were all but glowing. I frowned and glanced at the bed before looking back at him. I opened my mouth to ask why when it hit me like a fucking train.

He had been wanking in my bed.

I turned to stare at my rumpled lilac sheets. In my mind I knew I should be appalled, disgusted by his act. But heat rushed through me like boiling lava. An insistent throbbing in my core had me clenching my thighs. I knew what an erotic sight he made all tense and writhing in ecstasy.

“I can take care of that,” I uttered. My gaze fixed on the bed. “The sheets I mean,” I added, my own face colouring to match his. He jerked his chin and turned, swiftly leaving the room.

I needed to cool down. Now was not the time to be thinking deviant thoughts about my bodyguard.

Already seated in bed with the quilt covering my legs, I smoothed my hands over the soft cotton for something to occupy me as I waited for Ryan. Part of me believed he wouldn’t come back into my room and would play off what happened in the lounge as a major blip. I’d pulled another blanket out of the draw and draped it over the bed so that we both had enough covers. Luck was on my side, allowing me to be seated when he returned. He had on grey joggers and a black vest top that I was sure must have been three sizes too small because it hugged every indent, curve, and bump in his toned skin. I refused to glance down to check out the sweat pants bulge. All women do it. But Jesus, it was hard to keep my eyes in the comfort zone.

The man was huge.

His skin had a sun kissed bronze to it. Offset by the black of his vest. The wide expanse of his chest and the meaty bulge of his biceps. I was looking at a real life action man. I tried not to let my eyes linger on the puckered and scarred skin on his shoulder or the angry scar peeking out from behind his vest, creeping up towards his neck. He always wore t-shirts or shirts with more of a sleeve then now. But the marks on his body were a stark reminder of the hell he had faced. His arms twitched, and he was tensing. His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles were white. He was giving me a small gift, showing me his scars. Strangely, it wasn’t the physical scars that scared me. It was the silent ones. The ones he had buried so deep inside they were destroying such a beautiful man.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He ducked his chin in a jerky nod. He stood staring at the bed as if it was about to jump out at him. I yanked the quilt over and patted the bed beside me. Slowly he came over to me. He ran his fingers over the sheets, feeling the soft cotton, before the bed dipped and he slid in beside me. He sat stoically, unmoving and rigid beside me.

“Ryan,” I whispered softly. He turned his head towards me; a sea of lost souls reflected back at me in his blue gaze. The trepidation was my undoing. I ran my fingers along his jaw and cupped his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

“I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I think you have the power to destroy me,” he choked back. His words startled me. How could I destroy him. I was pretty sure when he left me I would never recover. We gazed at one another, letting the minutes tick by. Nothing in the world mattered in the moment more than he did.

“You may have given me the power, but I would never use it.”

Keeping my eyes locked on his gaze, I patted my lap. Slowly he slid his body down the bed and nestled his head in my lap.

With his head nuzzled against me, I felt home. I also felt the shift in our relationship. It was so tangible I could almost touch it. He was letting me in. He was granting me a Goddamn gift.

I ran my hand over his head, wishing I could take that blasted beanie off. But I understood the fragility of this moment. I stroked the fingers of my other hand over the scars on his shoulders. Some were tiny and nothing more than pock marks. Others were big red welts. He shivered under my touch, but he didn’t ask me to stop.

“You okay?” I asked, feeling dumb once the words were out of my mouth.

“Kind of. I’ve not spoken about that stuff for years. I feel like an old wound has been opened.”

“Do you think you can tell me about when Johan arrived?”

His shoulders tensed, but slowly they relaxed as he released long breaths.

“I was a bastard to him. I beat him, terrified him, everything and anything to get someone to notice that the kid should
not
live with us.”

“Were you not afraid they would take you away, prosecute, or punish you?”

“I would have gladly gone anywhere than stay in that fucking hellhole.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone? Reach out yourself for help?” Ryan shifted in my lap, and I tightened my hold on him to stop him leaving. I could sense my question struck a nerve.

“No one would listen. My father owned that town. Sick bastards who molest kids do not wear a sign. They don’t have fucked up faces. They don’t look seedy. They blend. They adapt.” His chest heaved as his anger peaked. “The fuckers find employment with contact to children. They are so smart.”

“I’m sorry.” I stroked my fingers over his head, wishing I could run them through his hair. Biting down hard on my lip to stop it trembling as the extent of his lonely suffering punched me deep in the gut, I slid my arm under his neck and the other over his shoulder and tugged his massive frame awkwardly towards me so I could bend and cuddle him. I wasn’t sure if it was for me or him, but it seemed a necessity. I buried my face in his neck and breathed him in. Who would hurt such perfection? His meaty fist covered mine, over his beating heart, and squeezed.

“I just need a second. Let me hold you,” I whispered against his neck. Praying he wouldn’t find me weak and pathetic. I could be strong for him. I just needed time. Ryan’s hand tightened around mine, pressing it against his chest anchoring me to him. He smelled delicious, a mixture of soap, salt, and pure man. I was desperate to press my lips against his skin and connect us. But I didn’t want him thinking I was expecting anything. I was beginning to see he was a man who had been used, discarded, and dumped. I squeezed him once more and lifted my head. At first I didn’t believe he would release my hand, and part of me didn’t want him to, but I was sitting too awkwardly. I slid my hand from under his, shifted so I was more comfortable, and reached over him to lace my fingers through his.

“I’ll stop being a big girl now. Tell me about Jo.”

Ryan chuckled softly, his breath fanning against my legs.

“He was so fucking tiny and scared. When he got out of the police cruiser, he looked so much like Chase and me when we were kids. He was much shorter though than we ever were. He seemed so tiny and defenceless and fucking lost. How could anyone send him to live with my father? Why did Chase do it to him, his own dad? He knew what Dad was like; he’d...”

Ryan’s voice was so thick with emotion he was almost choking on it. I ran my fingers over his head again, showing the only sign of support I knew how. His eyes drifted closed, and his fingers, which were still laced with mine, tensed.

“My eldest brother was Dad’s favourite.”

“Did he protect you? Like you did with Jo?” I asked, hoping someone was at least trying to defend a lost little boy. But he simply shook his head.

“Chase wasn’t...he escaped as soon as he could and said it was my turn to deal with all that shit. He told me to run as soon as I was old enough.”

Bile burned my throat, and tears stung the backs of my eyes. A fiery rage built in my gut for the cowardly actions of his brother. And the monstrous sickening acts his depraved father did.

“You didn’t run though.”

“I wanted to. God, did I want to. I could have survived by myself. But I had no way to feed the kid. I needed money to do that.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?” I knew the answer without him telling me. He turned his head to look up at me. His eyes were clouded over with bubbling anger.

“Because I couldn’t abandon him. He needed me to protect him.”

Those were the words I wanted.

“And who protected you?”

“I could look after myself,” he snapped and turned his head away from me. I disentangled my hand from his and stroked the back of my fingers down his cheek.

“You should have had someone to protect you, Ryan. That’s what has been missing your entire life.” He twisted his body and moved to lie beside me. I could feel the distance between us growing. I had pushed too far. I slid down the pillows to lie beside him. I stared at his profile. He was gazing up at the ceiling; his hands fisted by his sides. We were less than a foot apart, but he felt oceans away. I reached over his stomach to grab the hand furthest from me and tugged, forcing him onto his side. I knew if he was unwilling, there was no way I would have been able to move him, but he rolled onto his side, willingly, to face me.

“Don’t go away,” I uttered. We were so close I could feel his breath against my lips. I wrapped both my hands around one of his mighty fists and pulled it to my chest, hugging it to me.

“I’m right here. I'm not going anywhere.”

I tapped his temple gently. “I mean in here. Stay here with me. Don’t let the shadows pull you back into the dark.”

He snorted. But closed his eyes and released a shuddering breath.

“What about your mum?”

“She knew what that fucker was doing to Chase, me, and little Jo. She
knew.
But do you know what she called it? Dad’s illness. She justified his actions because we weren’t born with pus- we were guys. She aborted one baby after finding out it was a boy.”

I shook my head. I had no words to even describe how I felt about the vile woman.

“She hated Jo, absolutely despised him. She said he deserved to be punished. Spanking his ass, timeout, removing his favourite toys. The day I realised no matter what I did no one was going to save us, I stole a bottle of whisky from my dad’s liquor cabinet and went out into the woods and waited. I promised that night I would get him out of there by any means possible. Even if I had to murder the bastard myself.”

Ryan released a shaky breath and moved fractionally closer. My mind raced to find something to say. I wanted to take the pain away but how? How do you heal wounds so deep? The man in my arms had been betrayed by people he should have been able to trust and rely on his entire life. The foundations for becoming the man he would grow into were completely shattered.

“What happened? When you stole the whisky?” For some reason I had a foreboding sense it was a pivotal moment in Ryan’s life. 

“I called my girlfriend, yes the one and only girlfriend I ever had. I wanted to run and take her with me. Time was running out. As weeks passed, I knew Dad was grooming the kid. I wanted to take Jo and just leave that rotten fucking town. We could be a proper family.”

I waited. The pain in his voice was so raw it was a palpable thing between us.

“I drove out to her house to get her. We parked like we always did on a quiet dirt track just out of town. I’d told her bits before, why I didn’t want to...she’d asked why I didn’t want to fuck. I thought I loved her, and I wanted to wait a while.”

The silence stretched between us. With every ticking second I was certain this was where his sharing ended. That he would clam up and shut me out. I lifted my hand and brushed it over his cheek, up over his head, but my nail snagged on his beanie and tugged a little. Ryan reacted immediately and covered my hand with his.

“Don’t take it off, okay?” His voice was barely above a whisper. It was so at odds with the confident man I was used to.

“Only when you say.”

He huffed out a sigh and ran his thumb over my knuckles. Bringing our hands to his chest, mimicking the movement I had made earlier.

“When I asked her to come with me, she laughed. At first I thought she just assumed we were too young, and that I was insane.” He shifted closer, curling his massive legs between mine. His thick thigh wrapped over my leg, and he effectively pinned me in place.

“What did she do?”

“The bitch was being paid to fuck me. Only she hadn’t succeeded in that. She just got me to fall for her lies. Everything I ever told her, any plans I made,
everything
she took to my father and tried blackmailing the bastard. But no one, and I mean no one, succeeds in making my father a pawn. She became another toy. Another way to fuck with me. He paid her to stay with me, to find shit out so he could keep
control
. He knew everything. It was all about him. I meant nothing.”

Ryan’s shoulders heaved as he sucked in a breath. He rolled to his back and stared up at the white ceiling. I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his ear in a gentle kiss. I hugged his bicep, not entirely sure wrapping my body around him would be welcomed.

“She never knew what she threw away. With everything you have lived through, Ryan, I am amazed at the man you turned out to be. Always putting others first, forgetting yourself to ensure the happiness of others.”

“I’m a selfish bastard. I push people away. I hurt them.”

He pulled his arm out of my hold and sat up on the bed, effectively putting space between us. It was his default coping mechanism. I could see that now. When he felt threatened, he went into survival mode. I hefted myself into a sitting position and gently reached out to place my hand on his back. I needed him to realise he could have space and I would always be here waiting. He tensed under my touch, and the twitching of his jaw was an indicator he was waging a war inside of whether to run or stay.