The Scars of Us
Authors: Nikki Narvaez
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary
The Scars of Us
Copyright © 2014 by Nikki Narvaez
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
For more information:
http://nikkinarvaezwritegirl.blogspot.com/
www.facebook.com/NikkiNarvaezAuthor
Cover Design: Cover to Cover Designs
Photo Credit: Simon Barnes Photography
https://www.facebook.com/HOTSNAPZ
Model: Andrew England
Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats
https://www.facebook.com/FictionalFormats
I’ve heard people say that time heals all wounds, but I think that’s bullshit. All time did was allow the wounds to scar, leaving a permanent reminder of your suffering. The emotional pain might fade away, but a little piece of it always lingered, taunting your happiness, and never letting you forget.
Now love was a different story. I believed love could heal all wounds, but only if you let it; only if you trusted it. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t trust anyone, at least not completely. The one person in the world who I was supposed to be able to trust unconditionally ruined that for me. Now, the only person I could trust was myself, and even that was questionable most days.
Every day, I looked in the mirror, hating everything that stared back at me. Every single feature reminded me of him, of the person he made me to be. I hated what he’d done to me, hated the scars he’d branded on my soul. I wished I could erase them, but they were embedded so deeply into my being that I didn’t think even love could heal them.
I never thought I would ever experience love, until I met Ryker. He turned everything upside down the first time I’d laid eyes on him, and neither of us would ever be the same.
I glimpsed at the clock, which blinded me with glaring red light. As usual, my nightmare woke me way before my alarm was set to go off. Exhaling a sigh of resignation because of the ungodly hour, I rose out of bed and ventured to the bathroom.
Unable to look at myself after my reoccurring dream, I avoided turning on the light, not wanting to see my reflection in the mirror. Even a glance at my pale skin, blue eyes, and dark hair would almost guarantee a breakdown that would take hours to recover from. Avoidance was probably not the best method to deal with my issues, but it was one of the only ways I knew how.
After fumbling around in the dark while doing my business, I made my way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea to steady my nerves. Sleep was futile, and lying awake in bed with my thoughts was a disastrous idea, almost as bad as looking at myself in the mirror.
Padding down the hallway of my apartment, I stopped at my brother, Kamden’s, open door. Sometimes, I crawled into bed with him when I couldn’t handle the nightmares, but I didn’t want to wake him tonight. He needed his rest, and I needed to be less selfish. I hated being so dependent on him, but I needed him, more than he would ever know.
Kamden
was the only person from my family that I still spoke to, the only person that I remotely trusted. But even after everything he’d done for me, all that he’d sacrificed for me, I still couldn’t trust him fully; I’d never be able to trust anyone completely.
Walking the rest of the distance to the kitchen, I began the process of shutting down, blocking out my thoughts, closing out everything around me. Withdrawing into myself was another coping mechanism, numbing myself, pretending that I was fine and didn’t care so that my emotions would be unable to break me—they were the enemy. I doubted that I’d be able to function in society otherwise.
After I made my cup of tea, I headed to my office. Immersing myself in my work was easier than addressing my problems and acknowledging my issues. The numbers and figures made sense, and had a purpose, unlike my thoughts and emotions. I had control over the spreadsheets, tables, and documents, dictating everything that happened within them. I needed to have that power, needed to control as much as possible since I was constantly on the verge of unraveling.
After working on several projects for a few hours, I was interrupted by Kamden. “You sleep okay? “he asked, yawning as he leaned against the doorframe.
I gave him a look of disbelief before sarcastically answering, “Wonderful.”
“Why didn’t you wake me? You know I don’t mind.”
“It’s not fair for me to wake you every night over a stupid nightmare.” I replied brusquely, directing my attention back to the spreadsheets on my screen.
Walking over to me, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Your nightmares aren’t stupid, Ky. You can’t—“
Cutting him off, I snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it, Kamden.”
Raising both hands in surrender and stepping back, he softly replied, “Okay, Ky. You know I’m here for you if you need me.”
Sighing, I rose from my seat. “I’m sorry, Kam. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just exhausted.”
“I know. That’s why I don’t mind if you come into bed with me—you need your rest.”
“Not at the expense of yours. I hardly fall back asleep anyway.”
Opening his arms to me, he responded, “I want to do all that I can to help you. Always remember that.”
I easily fell into his embrace, enjoying the security of his arms. Kamden always made me feel safe, which was a fleeting notion for me most days. “Thank you, Kam.”
Hugging me tighter, he replied, “No problem, little sis.”
Ringing from down the hall interrupted our exchange. “I left my phone in my room—I better grab it.”
Releasing me from his arms, he trotted out of our office. After a few seconds, I heard him greeting our mother.
Great.
His footsteps echoed from the hallway, increasing in volume along with his voice as he neared closer to where I stood.
“Hang on, Mom,” Kam spoke into the phone. He pressed his screen before directing his attention to me. “She’s asking for you—will you talk to her?”
I gave him a
really
look. “No.”
“Kaiya,” Kam chastised in an annoyed tone.
“Kamden,” I mimicked in the same manner.
He sighed as he pressed his screen again and put the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, Mom, she already left for work,” he lied.
I mouthed, “Thank you.”
Rolling his eyes, he turned and went back down the hallway as he made small talk with our mom. Following after him, I decided to get ready for work. I almost ran into him when he abruptly stopped in the corridor right before his door.
“What?” he gritted into the phone, his whole body tensing in anger.
I scooted around to face him, locking eyes with his narrowed, enraged ones. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply before seething, “You can’t be serious.”
“What?” I mouthed anxiously. My heart raced, my anxiety peeking from beneath my walls in anticipation of what my mother was telling Kamden.
Jaw clenched, he shook his head.
Shit, this must be bad. Breathe, Kaiya, breathe. You’re safe, you’re with Kamden—he won’t let anything happen to you.
Hanging up the phone without another word, he clutched the device in his shaking hand.
“Kam, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
He blew out a breath of frustration as he ran his free hand over his buzzed head. “You should sit down for this, Ky.”
My pulse pounded ferociously under my skin, my blood thrumming through my veins with fear. “What is it, Kamden?”
“Ky, I really think you sh—”
“Tell me, Kamden!” I shrieked, beginning my spiral out of control. My thoughts turned to the darkest of places, to where my nightmares were rooted.
Please no, please don’t let it be him.
Kamden sighed before stating, “Kaleb is being evaluated for release.”