The Scars That Define Us Page 7

  Dani

  A week has gone by, and I haven’t seen Parker. He also hasn’t picked his daughter up from ballet or called me.

  I grab my bag and leave work. A prospect named Tom usually shows up to take me to work and picks me up after. I’m not sure how he even knows my schedule; I don’t know if he even speaks. He is always waiting outside on his bike with sunglasses and a helmet on, wearing a Devil’s cut and blue jeans.

  “Thanks, Tom!” I yell over my shoulder, entering the apartment after a long day of teaching girls to dance en pointe. When I enter the apartment, I see Bobby sitting on the couch watching T.V.

  “Oh, hello,” I squeak, shocked by Bobby’s presence. I haven’t seen him in about a week, either.

  “Hey,” he answers, lifting from his relaxed position.

  “You’ve been gone,” I say, pulling my keys from the door.

  “Yeah, been on a run,” he replies.

  I set down the bag containing my leotard and head for the fridge.

  “Shadow knows,” Bobby tells me calmly.

  “Knows what?” I ask, but I already know. Bobby opened his damn mouth about Parker and me. I bet that’s the reason why I haven’t seen him around.

  “He knows about you and Pretty Boy,” he informs me.

  This catches my attention, I walk back into the living room and sit beside him.

  “How’d he take it?” I ask.

  “Not well; trust me,” Bobby smirks.

  “So, what happened?” My tone urges him to tell me more. He looks at me, holding my gaze for a moment before standing from the couch.

  “You guys really need to work shit out. Just fucking talk to him.” He grabs his cut from the couch and leaves.

  I fall back against the couch with a sigh. The last time I talked to Shadow it didn’t go too well. This world is not for me; I can’t handle the life of being an ol’ lady. Any place where the love of your life takes the side of men who may kill you and cheat on their women on a daily basis is not something I have in store for myself.

  ***

  It’s late at night and I just finished soaking my sore feet on ice while watching sappy love stories. They seem to be the only thing on anymore. I start turning lights off and head to bed when the door opens. I pause from turning off the last lamp in the apartment. Shadow walks through the door, making my mouth part with fear. He’s wearing ripped jeans; a snug white shirt; and of course, his cut, making him look badass. I gulp at the sight of him.

  His eyes lock with mine, the torment in them holding me still. He scowls, his eyes narrowing with anger, reminding me Bobby told him about Parker and me. With that, I forget the lamp and start toward the bedroom quickly. Fear rides up my spine, hoping I can get to it and lock the door before Shadow can reach me. He leaps across the coffee table and grabs me by the hair, making me yelp in pain. Then he pulls my head back toward his face, the smell of grease and cologne arousing me as the hairs on my neck lift in fear.

  “Heard you were with someone else. Thinking about leaving me, Firefly?” He speaks softly into my ear, but his tone is anything but gentle.

  “Like you haven’t messed around on me?” I seethe, my teeth clenched. My choice of words is not helping my situation. Shadow jerks my hair tighter with anger, making me whimper.

  “Parker won’t be bothering you anymore, trust me,” Shadow declares, his words sharp and fierce. I try to turn in his grasp to see his face, to see if he is serious, but he pulls me close.

  “You’re mine, Dani” he whispers, the smell of alcohol strong on his breath. His words anger me; I refuse to let him own me and use me only when he sees fit.

  “Like hell.” I raise my voice as my fingers try to pry his hands from my hair. I wanted to be Shadow’s, to be his everything. I came at him hard when we first met. There was no denying our connection but after recent events, I’m not so sure of anything anymore.

  “You’re my property until I say so,” he says roughly. I can hear his teeth grit with anger as I defy him.

  “Fuck. You.” I annunciate each word hatefully.

  Shadow laughs maliciously.

  “Did that already.” He says it like I was nothing, hurting me more.

  I scoff at his remark, trying to act like his words don’t affect me.

  “Don’t try and act like you don’t want me,” he taunts, nipping my ear roughly.

  I huff and try to pull from his grip, but it’s no use; he’s too strong.

  “Maybe I should remind you what it’s like to be with a real man,” he says, trailing his tongue up the edge of my ear, leaving a moist trail. His other hand plays with the elastic of my white-lace panties, causing them to wet with arousal. His alpha-male ways have me blistering with rage, but more than anything, I want him to throw me onto the floor and lay claim to my body, which has me even angrier. Why can’t I escape the ravenous hold Shadow has on me? Don’t I deserve better? I deserve some Prince Charming you read about in books growing up.

  He roughly cups my breast with his free hand, making me sigh. His touch is like an old flame, and it ignites my arousal without my submission. My body hums with fear but warms with his touch.

  I bite my cheek and hold my breath, trying to rein in my sigh and moan of lust.

  “You and I both know you’ll never escape my hell.” Shadow pushes his groin into my ass, making me moan slightly.

  I swallow the lump forming in my throat from my heavy breathing. “I’ll find a way,” I whisper.

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Shadow hisses, the sound of his rough voice makes me clench my thighs together tightly.

  “ It won’t be with Parker. I can assure you that,” he scoffs. “Prince Charming likes to find drunk girls at bars and push them in backseats of his car. I’m not entirely sure if that poor girl was consenting or not,” he says in my ear. My body, warm from Shadow’s touch, now cools. Parker wouldn’t do something like that; Shadow is lying.

  “You lie,” I snarl under my breath.

  “Believe what you like.” He shrugs, pulling my head to the side by my hair. “But believe this, you are mine.” His tone is promising and threatening, yet comforting.

  Giving in, Shadow pushes me forward.

  “How many other men have you been with?” he questions, walking into the kitchen with his shoulders squared and body puffed out. His blue eyes shimmer in the dark room as he passes the lamp, giving him a look of a fearsome animal ready to dismantle its prey.

  “Excuse me?” I hedge, humiliated.

  “You heard me. You sleep with that guy?” He digs his talons into me.

  “None of your fucking business,” I retort.

  “Oh, but it is.” He grins a smile so devilish it makes my body shiver.

  My head turns when knocking sounds at the door. Curious who would be knocking at this late hour, I walk over and open it. Two half-naked chicks stand at the door with a distasteful expression on their faces. One is a blonde with her hair braided into pigtails, wearing a peacock-colored skirt with a green tube top. The other is a curly redhead with a pink skirt and pink, low-cut tank top.

  I turn and cock my head to the side. “Friends of yours?” I ask Shadow, my voice tongue in cheek.

  “Shadow, baby,” one of the girls coos walking into the apartment, uninvited.

  “Girls!” Shadow says excitedly, his eyes never leaving mine. I don’t even try to hide the hurt in my eyes. Instead, I stare into his vindictive blue eyes and show him the damage he is causing. I look at the girls, eyeing me as if I’m the one out of place. I give Shadow one last look before making my way toward my room.

  Once in, I slam the door and slide to the floor. I hear the girls giggle and laughing as I try to hide my sobs with the back of my hand. The sound of myself makes me ill. Why does Shadow make me so damn weak?

  I deserve this. I was warned of the life the club lived. I created this Hell which is now my own.

  SHADOW

  I stare at Bobby’s door, the door that bars the girl I want to b
e with but am conflicted to be with. Hearing she was with another man has me thinking unthinkable things. I want to kill someone; I want to brand Dani so everyone in the world knows she’s mine. Yet somehow, I still feel the need to keep her at arm’s length. I shake my head, pissed I did this to myself. I had a code, rules I lived by religiously to make sure I never felt like this but Dani slipped her way in with her innocence and underlying defiance, making me feel like I could be normal, could trust and love someone. I scoff at myself. Trust. Love. Listen to me; I sound fucking weak. I close my eyes and drag my hands through my hair. Weak is what I have become, though. Dani’s love is like a plague, killing me slowly, making me powerless. Making me think irrationally, giving me false hope of what could be. It’s poison.

  “You okay, baby?”

  I open my eyes to see two sluts standing in my living room, eyeballing me with concern. I wanted to hurt Dani, wanted to hurt her like she did me when I heard she was moving on. But after seeing the pain in her eyes, seeing her break down further than she thought she could ever fall, I felt regret. I feel like a jackass. I grit my teeth. I feel this way because I’m in love with Dani. If I was thinking clearly, I would drag these girls in the back and fuck them, watch them fuck each other and then fuck them again, making them scream my name. But I can’t.

  I stand, stomp my way toward the couch and hand one of the girls their purse. “Get out,” I bark, the sight of them angering me.

  “But we just got here,” one says, trying to sound flirty. It might have been sexy at the bar, but now it’s repulsive. These girls couldn’t hold a flame to Dani; they’re just trash.

  I point to the door. “And now you’re leaving. Get. The. Fuck. Out!” I shout.

  “You’re an ass, you know that?” one sneers, slinging her huge-ass purse over her shoulder. She isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know, though.

  I grab my beer, which I probably don’t need and walk back down the hall slowly, standing against the wall across from the door that holds a broken Dani. I slide down the wall in defeat, my emotions for this woman killing me from the inside out. I’m damned in destroying us, and I’m incapable of preserving a normal relationship. I’m like a little boy handling a butterfly too roughly, knocking the vibrant-colored dust which makes it unique loose then pulling its wings off one by one, keeping it from being free and making it a prisoner of flight. I reach into my pocket and pull out Dani’s iPod. I don’t know why I kept it. I could buy my own, put better tasting music on it even, but for some reason, every night I find myself listening to it. I put the ear buds in and turn it to “Torn To Pieces” by Pop Evil. The song is more fitting, describing my life so accurately.

  I OPEN THE DOOR to find Shadow asleep on the floor across the hall this morning. He looks sweet and at peace when he’s asleep. Looking at him in his cut, tattoos peeking out beneath his shirt, I realize why I can’t have a Prince Charming; I’ve fallen in love with the villain. Living life on the edge and breaking all the rules, I want to find redemption in us. Our love was never meant to happen but awoke by chance. Only time will tell if hope gets us anywhere or if it’s just a word they teach people who are giving up.

  Looking him over, the iPod in his hand catches my eye—my iPod. That asshole, I’ve been looking everywhere for that thing. I gently grab it and look it over then look back at Shadow, watching him sleep. His face is soft when he’s asleep. I don’t understand him and I don’t understand us. I heard him yell for those girls to leave last night, but why? He clearly brought them here to make me jealous, to watch my pain. I look down at my iPod and find Justin Timberlake’s ”Not A Bad Thing” and put it on repeat. I sit it back down beside his hand and head toward the kitchen. I want him to know loving me isn’t a harsh reality; it’s an earth shattering high. As hard as it is to accept, Shadow will always be a part of me. He brought out a side of me out that was chained and kept prisoner. I was set free when I met Shadow, released from the throes of detained lies and flown into the dark truth of what lies beneath my surface.

  I’m putting my bowl up from breakfast when I hear Shadow groaning as he wakes up from down the hall. He walks in and instantly my body is alive from his presence. He leans against the counter and eyes me with his stormy, blue eyes. I look away, trying to fight the internal battle my body is having with my mind.

  “I didn’t sleep with them,” he says roughly, his voice still sleepy. He’s talking about those two girls last night. I knew he didn’t sleep with them, but I won’t say that.

  “Congratulations, you saved yourself an STD or two,” I reply condescendingly.

  Shadow smirks, but his eyes are held with sorrow. Sorrow from what, us? From me trying to move on with my life?

  We sit silently, our bodies screaming to throw ourselves at each other, wanting to make up for the damage we have caused.

  “I just wanted to get out, get away from the idea of being a prisoner. Parker seemed nice,” I babble, breaking the silence. There was no way I would have ended up with Parker; being next to Shadow and the way he makes my body come alive confirms that. “I just wanted to talk to someone who didn’t see me as an enemy,” I whisper. Shadow flinches at my words as if I just reached over and slapped him.

  He rubs his hands up and down his face as he groans in frustration. His reaction shows me I did exactly that, though. I hurt him. He hurt me, too.

  “What are we doing, Shadow?” I ask, planting my hands on the counter. “I’m tired of this charade. If you want me, then be with me. If not…”

  Shadow looks up at me, his eyes hard and angry.

  “You are my ol’ lady until I say so,” he hisses, his words clipped. I stare into his damaged eyes; images of us together before the raid swirl in the depths of them.

  He shakes his head from our silent stare off and abruptly heads toward the door.

  “Shadow!” I yell.

  He stops and stares at me, our gazes of confusion and hurt trying to silently speak to one another before he shuts the door.

  ***

  “Very good, girls,” I compliment, trying to encourage the little girls attempting to learn to dance en pointe. I look at the clock and see it’s past six pm, quitting time.

  “All right, let’s call it quits for today and I will see you girls next week,” I remark cheerfully and head toward the door. I’m glad it’s time to end the day; my feet are killing me, and I’m pretty sure I split a toenail. My feet are truly taking a beating. I change out of my leotard and put on some loose-fitting shorts and a white tank top. When I peel off my ballet shoes, one of my toes is sticky with dry blood.

  Shit.

  I hobble to the bathroom and clean my foot before trying to stuff it in my shoe. Putting my shoes on is more difficult than I imagined with pain radiating up my leg as I squeeze my foot in. I hobble out and lock the doors behind me. Tom is usually waiting for me right outside the doors, but I don’t see him tonight; he must be running late. I sit down and wait, because standing is too painful. A car door shuts, catching my attention from across the parking lot. I can barely see the car since it’s hidden in the depths of the night, concealing its presence.

  I squint at the shadowy figure walking toward me, trying to make out who it is.

  “I figured I would find you playing ballerina,” my mother says, her tone harsh. I stand immediately and freeze.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I demand, stepping back and gripping my bag tighter to my body. The streetlights shine across her as she walks forward; she’s dressed to impress, as usual. She has on black slacks with a white, button-up blouse, her hair in some trendy up-do. She looks like she hasn’t lost a wink of sleep, even after everything she pulled on the club and myself. Go figure. Heartless bitch.

  She looks at the traffic on the highway off in the distance. “I thought I would try and talk some sense into you one last time before I head to New York.”

  “You’re wasting your time. Leave,” I order, pointing at the black car she arrived in.

/>   She laughs, pissing me off. She’s stupid if she thinks I’m not serious.

  “You don’t know what you’re doing, Dani,” she states, her tone condescending.

  “Do you know what kind of hell you left behind after you pulled the crap you did?” I ask angrily.

  “You’re dumber than I thought going back to that club. I’m surprised they haven’t killed you.” She snorts her last comment. “They will never trust you,” she says, placing her hands on her hips. I shrug at her attempt to scare me.

  “Get your shit and let’s go back to New York, Dani. Where you belong,” she insists, stepping toward me. I backtrack towards the door.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” The only reason she wants me to go with her is for the next time she tries to break my father.

  She blasts forward and grips my arm to the point of bruising, her nails digging deep into my flesh.

  “Yes, you are. You’re going back to New York whether you like it or not,” she demands, dragging me across the parking lot.

  I rip my arm from her grip only to have her nails cut my skin. She reaches for my arm again but misses her target when I push her hard. Her feet catch, making her trip, but she catches her balance before falling and looks at me with fire in her eyes.

  “You little bitch!” she screams, slapping me hard across the face. My head rings with pain from the harsh contact. She grabs my arm again and starts hauling me toward her car. My reasoning scatters and my body vibrates with sudden rage. I grab her arm and pull her toward me roughly before I clench my fist and hit her as hard as I can in her eye. She yells in pain, letting go of my arm.

  “You want to play rough?” she jeers, holding her eye. Before I can process what she says, she kicks me hard in the stomach, making me fall to the ground out of breath. She leans down in my face. “You are just like your father. Weak,” she spits, her tone laced with disgust while she grabs my arm hard. Thinking quickly, I grab her elbow and pull her down to the ground with one hard tug. She reaches back and grabs my hair, pulling it hard. I try to pull away, attempting to get to my bag, which is feet away. She straddles my back, pulling my hair hard as I crawl toward my bag, but my breasts scratch against the broken parking lot, making it painful. I claw at the ground, trying to pull myself with the weight of my mother on top of me when a chunk of the asphalt breaks free beneath my fingertips. I grip it tightly and thrust it backwards toward my mother’s head. It connects with her scalp hard, making her cry in pain as she lets go and grabs at her head. I scramble forward, knocking her off me in the process, and grab my bag. I pull the drawstrings and reach in, fishing for the gun Bobby gave me. I look over my shoulder and see her racing toward me, blood running down her face, so I turn the safety off and point it at her head in a split second.