Page 1 of Beautiful Scars: Unshakeable (The Beautiful Scars Duet #2)

Chapter One

Sunny

The darkness is absolute. It presses against my eyes like a physical weight. My head throbs with each beat of my heart as consciousness creeps back in. Cold metal bites into my wrists and ankles and the concrete underneath me steals my warmth. What little there is of it.

Sharp fragments of memory flash through my mind. Levi's face contorting in horror. Rough hands dragging me through the club's back door. The sharp sting of a needle. Then nothing but darkness.

I want to scream, call for help, but my throat is sandpaper and my tongue is dry and swollen. Thoughts drift in and out, flowing one into another over and over, making it impossible to know how long I've been here.

A metallic click echoes through the room, and harsh fluorescent lights blast on searing my retinas. I squeeze my eyes shut against the assault.

"Well, well. Look who's finally awake." The voice sends ice through my veins. "Did you miss me, Princess?"

Heavy boots scuff across the floor and stop in front of me. I force my eyes open, blinking against the glare. Garrett looms over me, his blonde hair longer than I remember, his face harder, older. But those cold, dead eyes—they're exactly the same.

"Seven years is a long time to play look but don't touch, baby." He squats down, reaching out to brush my hair back. I jerk away but the chains leave me nowhere to go. "You've grown up so pretty. But then, you always were beautiful. My beautiful, sweet princess."

"Don't touch me." The words come out as a croak.

"Aw, you think you have a choice. That's cute. You thirsty?" He produces a water bottle and takes his time unscrewing the cap. "Open up."

Pride wars with desperation. Thirst wins. I open my mouth and let him tip the water in, hating how good the liquid feels sliding down my throat.

"See? I'll always take care of you." His fingers trail down my cheek.

"We were doing just fine before those assholes showed up, weren't we?

You got the chance to build up your little life just the way you wanted.

And did I interfere? No. Not once. I let you believe you had all the freedom in the world. "

My stomach churns. "But I didn't. You were always there. Watching."

"Of course I was. You're mine Sunny. You belong to me. That’s never changed." His grip fastens on my jaw.

"I don't belong to anyone."

"Still so stubborn. You're mine or you're dead.

Remember?" He laughs, the sound sharp and cruel.

"You know when I got the call that you were in the hospital, alive, I knew I'd been given a second chance.

A chance to do it right. I was content to keep you in my glass jar, tucked away safe on your little shelf. But..."

“Why? I don’t understand any of this. What you did to my father? To my mom? To me?”

“Oh Princess. It’s simple.” His voice is soft, almost gentle, as he stays crouched in front of me, his eyes locked on mine. “I did it, because I could.”

Garrett reaches out and slides his knuckles down my cheek. “Your daddy, who, by the way, never deserved you or your mom, had a lifetime contract for his services. He knew the terms when he took the job. He wanted out. I simply reminded him what the word 'lifetime' meant."

He tilts his head as he speaks. “Your mom? She was payment for the balance left on his contract. And you? Well, you sweetie, you were my bonus. The icing on the cake for a job well done.”

"They'll find me." The words lack conviction even to my own ears.

"I doubt it. They haven't yet." Garrett stands, towering over me. "But if they do somehow manage it, there won't be any doubt about who you belong to. I don't plan on leaving any scraps around this time."

Fear claws up my throat as memories flood my mind—nights spent trying to disappear into myself while his hands moved over my body. The same hands that killed my father. The same hands that almost killed me.

"You're crazy." I struggle to keep my voice steady. "I'm not that scared little girl anymore. I don't belong to you."

"We'll see." He kneels, face inches from mine. His breath reeks of whiskey. "I think you might feel differently in a couple weeks."

His fingers trail down my neck and graze over the ink at my collarbone. He traces over the thick line of scar tissue there. I want to scream. To fight. To show him how wrong he is. But my body betrays me and I freeze.

"We're gonna have so much fun making up for lost time." He stands again, heading for the door. "And if those knights in shining armor of yours finally show up? Well... I've got plans for them too."

The lights click off, plunging me back into darkness. His laughter echoes off the walls as the door slams shut.

I twist in on myself as much as the chains allow, trying to control my ragged breathing. Tears slip down my cheeks silently and I close my eyes—refusing to let them become sobs, refusing to give him the satisfaction. He's right—it’s just like before. Except now there's so much more at stake.

Levi.

Zane.

The thought of them walking into whatever trap Garrett has planned makes my chest constrict. But the alternative of being left here, with no hope of ever being rescued, is a terror that threatens to swallow me whole.

The darkness presses in close, feeling even more empty than before. It brings with it memories of every touch, every violation I've tried so hard to forget over the years. I open my eyes hoping it will stop, but the blackness keeps going on and on and on.

Time bleeds together. Minutes, hours, days—they all feel the same. My muscles scream from being forced into and held in the same position, and thirst claws at my throat again. I have no idea how long it's been since Garrett was here.

The door creaks open, and the lights flick on. Fluorescence stabs at my eyes. Two massive silhouettes fill the doorway.

"Get up." A gruff voice commands.

My legs shake as they unlock the chains from the floor. Rough hands haul me up to my feet. I bite back a cry and tears prick my eyes as blood rushes back into my dead limbs catching the sleeping nerves on fire. My feet struggle to find purchase as I’m dragged forward.

Cold air hits my bare skin as we move through the building.

It's industrial—metal rafters stretch high overhead, and moonlight filters in through rows of dirty, cracked windows. Our footsteps echo off concrete walls and linoleum floors. I try to memorize the path we’re taking—left, right, down a long corridor, but everything looks the same.

The grip on my arms tightens as we approach a door at the end of one of the long hallways. One of the men fumbles with a set of keys attached to his belt, while the other holds me in place. His fingers dig in hard enough to bruise.

Eventually he finds the right key and I’m shoved into a room that stinks of bleach and other cleaning supplies.

I stumble, catching myself hard against the wall.

The room isn't a lot to look at. A queen size bed sits in the middle of the room with its metal frame bolted to the floor.

The only other furniture is a small table with a lamp.

There's a doorway that leads into a bathroom—toilet, shower—no door, no privacy.

"Get yourself cleaned up." The taller man’s eyes rake over me. "Don't try anything stupid. There are cameras everywhere."

The door slams shut. The keys rattle. The lock clicks.

I slide down the wall, wrapping my arms around my knees. The room is warmer, more comfortable than where I just was, but I can't stop shaking. Memories of Easton Creek flood back—all the lessons and time it took for me to learn to be quiet, to be small, to obey. And I still never got it right.

"They'll come for me," I whisper to myself, but the words sound hollow spoken out loud in the empty room. Levi and Zane will tear this place apart looking for me. I have to believe that.

But will there be anything left for them to find?

My gaze drifts to the bathroom and my stomach does a flip. I should welcome the chance to take a shower, to get warm, to get clean. But going in there and turning on that water means accepting this situation. It means following orders. Resigning myself to… this.

I press my forehead to my knees, fighting back tears. I spent years thinking I was free, only to discover Garrett had been pulling my strings the whole time. Now, I'm right back where I started—naked, afraid, and completely at his mercy.

I wasn't lying when I said I'm not that scared teenager anymore. My body may remember everything, and part of me may want to curl up and disappear, but I have to remember that no matter how hard he tried, he never broke me in the ways he'd really wanted to. I never let him win.

Forcing myself up, I stand on shaky legs. One step at a time. Shower. Gather strength. Watch for opportunities. I may have to play his game for now, but I won't make it easy. Not again.

The bathroom light flickers as I turn it on.

No mirror, thank God. I don't want to see the bruises I can feel over most of my body.

Garrett obviously wasn't gentle getting me here.

The water runs ice cold before turning warm, and by the time I step under it, it's steamy hot.

I don't want to, but I have to admit it feels good.

It's clearing my head and helping me stay here in the present instead of spiraling backwards.

At least he gave me a towel. As I dry off, I hear movement outside the door. My heart rate spikes. It's too soon. I can’t do this. I'm not ready.

But ready or not, I know what's coming.

I wrap the towel around myself, backing into the corner.

Levi and Zane will be here. They won't forget me. I just have to find a way to survive until then.

Breathe. Stay. Don't disappear.

The lock clicks and the door opens.