Silent Scars (Surviving #4) Page 16

  “Harry, remove your hands. Now!”

  “I’m not copping a feel.”

  “Really, because your fingers feel incredibly close to my crack,” I snapped.

  He threw his head back and laughed. I stared at him bemused. He had never acted like this before. We were friends and not once was that barrier crossed. Nor would it ever be. Yeah, he had a devilish charm about him, and I wasn't dead – I could appreciate his good looks, and he had a fine body, but there wasn't that spark of anticipation with him.

  Not like with Ryan.

  I grumbled to myself because I had to give up that ghost. He wasn’t interested – no that wasn’t true. I thought he was tempted, but I wasn’t a big enough temptation for him to break professional code.

  “Harry, you need to step back; your making me too hot.” He cocked an eyebrow, and I shook my head, giving him an insistent push. He stepped back, but his hands still held my waist. He glanced behind me and grinned. I rolled my eyes and turned my head to look over my shoulder to see which female victim had caught his eye. But I stumbled when a pair of intense blue eyes stared back at me. My skin flushed, my nipples pebbled, and that damn throbbing returned at the power in his gaze.

  “See, your toy wants to play,” Harry said into my ear, before running his nose down my neck and pulling me in close again. I clutched at his shirt, needing the support. The heat in Ryan’s stare both terrified and heated me beyond combustion.

  My body swayed against Harry’s. It was a natural movement, like we were born to dance together. But my head, heart, and soul called out to the man glaring at the hands holding me.

  “Harry, you need to stop. He looks angry,” I said, turning to plead with my best friend.

  “His dick is angry because his head is telling him to step away. The man is a fucking idiot.”

  “Stop.”

  Harry straightened and pulled me flush against him. My breasts squashed against his chest and my groin against his. There wasn’t any space between us, and I decided I really didn’t like this side of him. Had he had more to drink than usual? He brought his face so close to mine I panicked he was about to kiss me.

  “Harry?” My voice quivered with desperation.

  “About damn time,” he muttered just as a large hand cupped my arm and pulled me away from my currently insane friend.

  “You need to back the hell away.”

  “Says who?” He glanced down at me, all bravado.

  I opened my mouth to interject, but Ryan blocked both my path and speech.

  “Your worst fucking nightmare if you don't get your hands of my girl’s ass.”

  His girl?

  Giddy butterflies escaped in my stomach, and I wanted to do a silly happy dance. I caught the widening of Harry’s eyes. Ryan turned to face me, putting his back to Harry signalling the end of the conversation.

  “Harry is a friend, you know that, right?” I felt I needed to reassure him.

  “He had his hand halfway up your shorts.”

  “His hand was on my arse.”

  “In his mind, his hand was up there.”

  “How would you know?” I pushed.

  “He's a guy, and with an ass and legs like yours, the guy wants in there.”

  “Was that a backhanded compliment, Ryan?”

  “No, just stating a fact.”

  “Are we dancing?” I asked as we stood facing one another on the dance floor. Like I had no control, my hips swayed so I wasn’t completely unmoving like he was.

  “Technically, we're swaying, but I think in relation to what everyone else is doing it could be considered dancing. Would you like to go?” It was bizarre having a shouting but relaxed conversation. The music so much louder in this part of the club. His jaw ticked, and his free hand was clenched at his side.

  “No, I want to dance.”

  Ryan was so incredibly tall. I wasn't exactly short at five nine, but he made me feel tiny. I tilted my head back so I could watch his face. He looked tense, but in that moment I hadn’t ever felt so turned on. Ryan glanced around the dance floor at the other people and scowled. The muscle in his jaw throbbed, his intense gaze returned to me, and goose bumps prickled my skin with the intensity burning back at me.

  “Am I doing this right?” he said, leaning forward to speak close to my ear. His words electrified me. I was desperate to feel his hands on me again. The incident in the bathroom had awoken a urgent need in me that only he could fill. I paused a moment, staring into his eyes. My chest heaved I was so nervous to take the next step, but I would eternally hate myself if I didn’t.

  Without breaking eye contact I reached out for his free hand and placed it on my waist and stepped into him. Slowly, watching for any kind of flinch or sign he didn’t want this. I slid my hands up his chest and around his neck. I reduced the space between us and moved with him. Keeping my gaze firmly locked on his, I implored him to stay with me. Achingly slow, his body started to sway against mine. It wasn’t at all the music you would slow dance to, but I was in his arms, and he was in mine. They could be playing the national anthem, and I still wouldn’t release him.

  His breath shuddered against my face as his hand at my waist tightened, and the one holding my bicep moved down and around to the small of my back. He pulled me even closer, so close I had to turn my head and laid it against his solid chest. His heart under my ear was beating wildly. This was no longer a dance. it was something entirely different. I dropped my hands and slid them around his back to hold him just as tightly.

  His chest rumbled with words I had no chance of hearing. I lifted my head and pleaded with my eyes for him to repeat it. He shook his head, cupped the back of mine, and gently laid my head against his heart. I closed my eyes for a moment and listened to the healthy beat.

  I was surrounded by his scent like it was air. He pressed his nose into my hair and inhaled as if I too were his lifeline. He gripped my hair in his fist. Prickles raced over my scalp verging on pain, and I felt a little at war with the desire that shot through me at the sensation.

  Then we were moving away from the dance floor. Ryan had my hand in his, and he was stalking through the crowd towards the far end of the club to a secluded corner. My pulse rocketed into overdrive at the much more private part of the club.

  “Aloura, we have to leave, now. Before I do something we both live to regret.”

  “I would rather regret it.”

  “No, don’t give me the ‘regret what you do, not what you haven’t done’ bullshit.” He stepped forward and cupped my cheeks. “Tiny dancer, I am not a fairytale prince. I’m not one of your heroes from those romance novels. I’m fucked up inside; I have nothing worthy of you.” He pressed his fist to his chest and then tapped it against his temple. I lifted my hand and gripped his wrist. I had no chance of fitting his fist in my hand. My fingers didn’t even wrap fully around the thickness of his wrist.

  “I’m not broken, Aloura. That would imply I could be fixed. There is nothing left inside me.”

  “We could change that.”

  “I don’t need you to change me,” he snapped.

  I stepped into him and released my hold so I could cup his cheek. I expected him to pull away, but he leaned into my hand and closed his eyes.

  “I’m not naive, Ryan. I know entering a relationship with the intention of changing that person is doomed. I accept you as you are. I like who you are. I can only hope being with me enhances your life and diminishes the sadness you carry. You’re empty because you never let anyone in. You say there is nothing inside. Let me help fill you with happy memories. Ones to treasure.”

  “I’m here to protect you, not hurt you.”

  “I have faith you are more protective of my delicateness than I am,” I seethed because he made it sound like I was a china doll meant to spend her life sitting on a shelf rather than experiencing it. “I’m at least willing to make an effort with this connection we have. Because try and deny it all you like there is something between us. You’re jus
t too afraid.”

  “Are you saying I’m a coward?”

  “Yes.” I lifted my chin in defiance. The man before me was anything but a coward, but the alcohol bussing through my system clearly made me a daring idiot.

  “Okay, yes I am attracted to you. I want to fuck you in every conceivable way possible. But above all else, I don’t want to hurt you. I was employed to protect you, and if that includes from myself, then so be it. If that makes me a coward, fine.” He had stepped so close I could feel his breath against my lips. A vein at his temple throbbed, his chest expanded on each breath, and his nostrils flared. My sensible mind screamed at me to step back, but my heart and the devil in me urged me to push harder.

  “The only person you are protecting is yourself, Ryan. I understand you’ve suffered some kind of traumatic heartache in your past.” That was the wrong thing to say. He jerked back as if I had slapped him.

  “You know shit about my past. Don’t pretend, Aloura, you have any clue. You’re unrealistic if you believe you understand the ugliness in this world. Safely tucked away in Daddy’s mansion. You’re a clueless little princess.”

  “Okay, big guy. I’m going to stop your tantrum there,” I snapped and stepped towards him. I pressed my finger in his chest, my own anger over taking my concern for him. “I may not have fought in a war. I may not have seen my friends die. I haven’t seen suffering on that scale, and I am thankful to men and women who put their life on the line for their country’s freedom. But I refuse to accept that I don’t know the cruelty that lies within people. I grew up without friends, bullied because of who my parents were. I’ve watched my mum torn down at parent groups and cast out like a leper because she’s gay. I’ve watched Dad go from an outgoing, laidback fun guy to a stressed out paranoid maniac because someone is threatening to hurt me because of the work he does. His life’s work is in jeopardy because he would choose my safety over anything. But the drugs he has developed have saved lives, Ryan. My grandmother has called me Satan's spawn because I was conceived out of wedlock and by parents who are gay. She despises me. I once saw her at the library, and I said hello and she spat at me.” I sucked in a breath. I still remember Mum bursting into tears and the pain on her face when I told her about that. “It terrifies me to meet new people. I came tonight absolutely shitting myself, but I did it for you. I wanted you to be happy. Your size and growl is all a facade to hide the coward you are inside.”

  “I’m not a fucking coward,” he snarled.

  “Yes, you are. Big strong, macho Ryan, afraid of his feelings. What’s so hard? What are you so afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “You’re terrified. You think no one sees. But each one of your friends watches you like you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.”

  His jaw ticked, and he glanced over in the direction of their table.

  “You think you’re hiding, that no one sees the pain you’re carrying. Everyone sees it, Ryan. You hurt them so much, and you don’t even see it. You’re so wrapped up in your own pity party you can’t see the pain you’re causing. So why are you so determined to push everyone who cares away?”

  “Because they either leave or abuse me,” he snapped.

  The sudden fear shrouding his blue eyes was a clear indicator I had pushed and he had reacted without thought. For once his emotions overruled. I stepped towards him, but he backed away. The terror in his eyes caused a pain in my chest. I rubbed at the spot and softened my voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. It isn’t important.” The shutters were coming down; he was closing me out again.

  “No, Ryan... “

  “Jesus, woman, you are infuriating. Stop pushing. I’m trying to be polite and turn you down. I’m not interested in you. You have a fit body I like looking at. I don’t want you.”

  I stomped down on the sick feeling in my stomach. He was fighting back, clawing for control. Well, for once I was taking it away.

  “That so?” I asked and grinned at him.

  “Look, I don’t want to upset you.”

  I jumped at him so he had no other option to either wrap his arms around me or let me fall to the ground. I had enough confidence in him to catch me. Once his arms were around me, I cupped the back of his head and pressed my lips to his.

  I never saw it coming. Why the fuck didn’t I see it coming?

  My hands fisted in the fabric at the base of her spine, and I clung to her. She tilted her head, and her soft warm tongue peeked out and licked the seam of my mouth, seeking entry. My cock stiffened, desperate for her warmth. I craved to give in to her, to kiss her back, to take the pleasure she was offering. But then the taste of lipstick entered my mouth, and I fought not to gag.

  Releasing my hold on her shirt, I wrapped my hands around her hips and pushed her away, with enough force to be free but with no intention to hurt her.

  “I’m not fucking interested, Aloura. Cut that shit out, or I will quit this fucking job. Do not touch me again, or you will regret it.” I panted. Wiping my hand over my mouth to get rid of the lingering lipstick. Why the fuck she felt the need to wear that shit I will never know. I yanked my skull cap down low and glared at her. She stepped back and wobbled on her heels. Her cheeks flamed red so even in the dark I could see her colour change. She hugged her arms around her body. I noticed the slight tremble in her dainty hands and wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and apologise. She ducked her chin and jerked a nod.

  “Okay. Sorry,” she said, and I hated the quiver in her voice. This was exactly why I couldn’t be with her. I would freak out and fuck up more and more. She didn’t need to deal with that. Intimacy, which is what she desired with me, was alien. Fucking, dirty, ugly and vile. Fucking was all my body and mind were built for. My father made sure of that.

  I will break you, boy.

  Now was not the time to hear this shit. I fisted my hands at my sides and made to move around her.

  “I won’t give up on you.”

  I closed my eyes and prayed for the patience I was lacking. Her perseverance was both amazing and really fucking annoying. I needed to push her away and make sure she understood I was a monster she didn’t want to engage.

  “The taste of you on my mouth sickens me. I pushed you away before I gagged. I’m not the man you want. Trust me on that.”

  Those beautiful doe eyes filled with so much pain I swear I felt it in my chest. I ached to reach out and hold her, apologise, and kiss away those tears brimming in her eyes. But I stood firm, held my ground, and destroyed the light she held for me.

  She jerked her chin in a nod and turned to head back to the table.

  Just as we reached the group, the cocky bastard headed us off. “I’m going home. Hey, what’s wrong?” He ducked his head to look directly in her face. His hands reached out and pushed her hair out of the way.

  She offered him a bright smile and shook her head. “Nothing. I think I’ve had way too many shots.” She laughed, but even I could see it was forced. The cocky bastard glanced at me, and his brow furrowed. He wanted to challenge me. But her hand slid around his arm, and when she had his attention, she shook her head imperceptibly.

  “I need to go, babe.” He glanced down at his phone and then around the club as if searching for a solution.

  “I’m fine. Stop babying me.” She huffed out a small chuckle.

  He leaned towards her and said something I wasn’t intended to hear. She bobbed her head and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He glared at me over her shoulder. He had no idea how much I wanted to be holding her, to have the freedom of touching her when and where I wanted without the guilt clawing away inside of me. Because how could someone like me dirty her? How could I hold her without seeing the hundreds before her, the vile things I’d had done to me?

  The cocky bastard pressed a kiss to the side of her head and released his hold on her. When she stepped around him and joined the rest of the group at the table, he came tow
ards me.

  “Keep your filthy fucking hands off her,” he snarled.

  “Simmer down, twinkle toes. I have no intention of touching her.”

  “Sticking your tongue down her throat, dancing with her, constitutes as fucking touching. Stay. away.”

  I gritted my teeth and fisted my hands by my sides. Every instinct within me wanted me to fight. But when I caught sight of Aloura watching us with a worried expression, I jerked my chin in a sharp nod. The dickhead could have this round. I had no intentions of stepping over no man’s land into her warm embrace. She deserved someone without my mountainous baggage.

  He shouldered his way past me. I joined the group, choosing to sit on a stool a little way back so I was on the peripheral. Will nuzzled Emily’s neck, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they went home. Aloura smiled, but frowned when she sat on the edge of the booth as if gearing herself to leave. She pulled out her phone, glanced at the screen as if checking the time, and placed it back in her purse.

  After an hour, the group disbanded. Aloura claimed she was exhausted and wanted to go home. Emily and Will were clearly needing somewhere private. I said goodbye to my family and we left.

  The ride home was awkward. Aloura never spoke a word, but I could see from the reflection in the side window she wasn’t asleep. She just looked incredibly sad. My gut twisted at the thought of taking some of her light away. She had glowed for most of the evening. And after a stupid kiss, I doused it quicker than a tsunami.

  It wasn’t a stupid kiss.

  I fisted my hands because no, it wasn’t even close to stupid. It was the first time since I had felt the warmth of a woman’s lips on mine. The last girl I kissed was when I was sixteen, stupid and so fucking desperate to be loved I deserved her betrayal. That’s what she did. She tore my world apart and destroyed the faith I had. I learned that day the only one you can trust is yourself.

  Rely on yourself to survive.

  When I finally pulled the car into the space beside her house, she jumped from the vehicle. Following, I glanced around the vast land, catching sight of the red lights showing me the cameras were in operation. The gravel crunched under our feet as we neared Aloura’s home, and we could hear the rat yapping. For the first time in the past hour, Aloura’s lips curved in a gentle grin. When she unlocked the door, I stepped inside and disarmed the alarm. The rat fussed around her, jumping around our legs and barking his excitement.