Chapter Thirteen

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After one suffocating hour of detention, I numbly walked all the way home. When I got there, I passed Scar's house. The lights were all turned off and the shades were drawn, giving the illusion that no one was home. No, he probably was. With Nora again, I'm assuming.

I winced as the door slammed against the wall when I opened it with more accidental force than I realized.

A harsh, simmery feeling was running through me. I couldn't describe it. I exhaled a few times to calm myself down. There was just no way I could ever look Scar in the eye again. And this time, I actually meant it.

Fortunately, Marie and my father had left for work. My father was an accountant at the bank, and Marie....I really didn't know exactly what she did. All I knew was that she was some sort of crime investigator for unusual cases. But it was still a relief to have the house all to myself. No doubt the school would phone in any time know, but I didn't plan on answering it.

I climbed the steps and went into my bedroom. It was still a mess from this morning. My face heated up when I noticed a laced bra strap hanging down from one of the drawers. It just reminded me of Scar, and he was the last thing I needed to think of.

I threw the horrible dress off my body and shoved it deep into the closet where it belonged. God forbid I ever think about doing something like that again. The morning's eagerness had long since left. Now all that I felt was shame and anger. At myself, really. How could I embarrass myself like that? I decided to leave all of that shameful bidding to Nora. She enjoyed the male attention, anyways.

I turned the shower on, letting all of the morning's events to wash away from me. The hot water rained down in sheets, leaving me with a small shred of dignity. I scrubbed my face and neck until it was raw. Still, I couldn't shake off the weight of Scar's glare or the feel of Mark's lips on my skin.

When I felt like I was completely clean, I turned it off with a squeak of the faucet. Steam billowed up in wispy clouds, and the mirror was fogged.

I cleared a circle and stared at myself. My hair hung in limp, brown strands. My eyes had lost their brightness, now just a dull blue color. My cheeks were pink from the steam. My lips were already cracking. Even though I looked a mess, I felt better than I had in weeks.

I dried off and dressed in the most comfortable thing I could find. It was a cat onesie, far too large and far too soft. It zipped up and encased me in a wonderful warmth. I pulled the hat over my wet hair. It even had a pair of cat ears that were on either side, lined with a furry soft pink. I grabbed my laptop off the coffee table and loaded the next episode of Doctor Who. While I was waiting, I made myself a cup of hot chocolate.

I settled in between the valley of my pillows and stuffed animals, full prepared to lose sense of reality for a few hours. I was clean, I was warm, and I was happy. I even forgot about Scar.

Until there was a knock on the door.

I continued watching, dismissing it as some noise from the laptop. But then it happened again, more persistent this time. A feeling of déjà vu crept up my chest. Groaning, I placed the mug on the bedside table and ran down the stairs. I opened the door, heart skipping a beat when I saw who it was.

Scar was waiting for me patiently outside. I huffed and crossed my arms, taking note of the angry look on his handsome face. His hair was falling in soft strands across his face, and his red lips were creased down. Scar finally glanced at me.

A mixture of emotions went through his face. Anger, confusion, and his eyes finally settled with amusement. He looked me up and down. I backed into the hallway, protecting myself with the door. I didn't like how he was staring. To make things worse, my current attire just played into his game of calling me a kitten. I certainly resembled one at the moment.

"Kitten." he said, stretching out the last syllable. A smile played on his lips. I felt vulnerable in the soft material. Scar pushed his way in and closed the door behind him. I pursed my lips.

"What do you want now?" I asked quietly. Truth be told, I was still butthurt about yesterday night. Scar noticed my resentment and took a step closer to me, bringing out a pack of cigarettes and a blue lighter from his back pocket. He lit one up and stuck it in his mouth, filling the air between us with a wispy cloud of smoke.

"I came by to say that I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Kitten."

"No, really Scar." I backed away even more. "What do you truly want? You can't just show up here and barge into my house like you own it. I'm tired of the mysteries, Scar. I'm tired of all the lying and the anger you have at every little thing I do. I But you know what? I'm not yours, Scar. You can't push me around just like that. I don't want anything to do with you. Don't involve me with any dangerous guys, don't drag me along to wherever you please, and most of all, don't involve yourself with my life. We're nothing alike. So if you had no valid reason to be here, then please leave." I finished.

There was a tense silence after I finished. I had no idea where all of that came from, but I was glad I had said it. I had realized I did have feelings for Scar. It's just that those same feelings wouldn't be returned. I was just protecting myself from the rejection that would surely happen if I said what I really wanted. I held my breath, waiting for a reaction.

The silence was broken by slow, sarcastic claps. I frowned, watching Scar as he advanced towards me.

"Well, that was quite the speech, kitten." he growled, taking his cigarette out from between his lips. "But that's not why I really came by. I just want to talk, I swear. And I mean really talk. All of this shit is killing me, Genevieve. Call me pathetic, but I just need someone to listen to me for once."

He actually sounded...sincere.

I crossed my arms, taking a deep breath. I could see in his eyes that he was actually telling the truth. He looked...broken. For some strange reason, I decided not to make a sarcastic comment. For some strange reason, I said "Fine. Let's go to the living room."

"Actually, I'd rather go to your bedroom. Catch up, kitten." Scar said before quickly disappearing up the steps. I sighed. Seeing no other choice, I followed.

Scar was once again sprawled across my bed with his feet up. This was the second time that a boy, the same boy, was in my room. I wondered what my father would say if he knew. Probably something along the lines of 'where's my gun?'

And I, once again, took the seat farthest away from him.

"This morning-" He started.

"-was none of your business." I finished.

"Genevieve." For once, Scar didn't use that stupid nickname. He sat up, dark eyes carefully guarded but searching my own desperately. "What happened this morning?"

"Nothing."

"No, that was not nothing." He growled, getting more and more agitated.

"Scar, forget about it. It doesn't include you." I snapped. I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice. "I only did to Mark half of what you did to Nora Moore-"

"Is that what this is about?" Scar, furious now, made a move to stand up. When I scrambled desperately for the door, he sat back down. "Genevieve, give me a clear answer. That was not the girl I know this morning. That's not like you at all."

"What do you care?"

The glare he gave me was enough to make me choke. "You know what, kitten? You're right. I shouldn't care. What kills me is the fact that I do. I do care, Genevieve. Can we talk about this? About Nora? About us?"

I chewed my bottom lip fretfully. "I don't want to talk about that."

"About Nora?"

"About anything, Scar."

Scar fell silent at my words. He almost looked defeated. For a while, neither of us said anything. I couldn't find the right words to express myself. To avoid messing things up even more, I kept my mouth shut.

Finally, Scar spoke. "Okay. I understand if you don't want to say anything. You don't have to ever speak to me again. But I'm not leaving without telling you the truth. After all I've put you through, you deserve that much. I have a feeling why you came to my house yesterday. I want to clear this up once and for all. Is that okay?"

I nodded.

"Before I moved here, I lived in London with my aunt for a while." Scar suddenly said. I straightened up in my seat, watching him carefully. "I was 15 when I met this girl. Her name was Christina."

I distinctly remembered when Mike had mentioned her on the drive home, and the jealous feeling I got. Scar looked down at the patterned bed sheet and continued in a low voice.

"She was gorgeous, she was funny. She was everything I could ever want. Before we knew it, we were dating. I was surprised to know that she liked me. I wanted her to be with me forever. It was pathetic, but I was young and stupid. One night, we were out walking home after a movie."

Scar stopped and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, he sounded much more quiet.

"This van pulled up to us suddenly, and one guy jumped out. He was wearing a pig mask, so we couldn't tell who it was. Christina screamed and tried pulling away from me. She knew the man, I Iater found out. Before I could even react, this loud bang echoed into the air. Christina fell, and I noticed the blood spilling out from her stomach. There....there was so much blood, Genevieve." he choked out.

"Long story short, Christina died and the car drove away. I spent weeks cooped up in my room, crying. My aunt finally sent me here to live with my parents and sister in Chicago. During the plane ride there, I had decided to track down whoever killed Christina and make them suffer. I had a friend, a very smart friend who tracked them down and gave me the information. This took about a year to get."

"By then, I was completely focused on taking revenge for Christina's death. I learned that the man who killed her was part of this Russian mafia. They called themselves the Sevskaya Bratva, and in show of brotherhood wore pig masks when they went to kill. Imagine my surprise when I learned that the heart of the mafia didn't lie in Russia like you would think. The leader's operation was in Chicago itself. The Bratva was made up of the most dangerous people in the world, kitten. They were the king of all gangs. I couldn't just barge in and start shooting people like I thought I could. I was warned by many people not to do this, but I wasn't thinking straight."

"I went to get help from this man. His name was Sebastian. He told me that the only way to take down the Bratva was to gain their trust. Snake in the operation, he said. Sebastian took me to one of the Sevskaya Bratva brothers and referred me to their leader. He even told me that Christina wasn't who she said she was. She was actually a part that mafia, and apparently owed them money that she didn't have. Anyways, it took a year to do it, to finally gain their trust. I was living in a fucking hell. I had to watch them sell drugs, sell women and children. I had to sit through every fucking thing they did and act like it didn't affect me. Rape, drugs, extortion, murder."

I was practically falling out of my seat. The story just never seemed to stop, the horrific events never ending. Scar took a deep breath and patted the bed in front of him. Without a word, I got up and sat on the bed, facing him. Scar wouldn't meet my eyes and continued on.

"One night, I was wandering around. There was this women, I saw, curled up in her cell. She was sobbing her eyes out, pregnant with a 6-month child. I learned that she was to be sold tomorrow at the auction. It just broke me, seeing something like that. Before I could change my mind, I unlocked her cell and went in. I was going to help her escape. We hadn't made it one foot outside when someone caught us. There was a fight, but I was drugged and taken away. I lost consciousness and woke up in this room."

Scar stopped again. I inched closer, unable to think of anything to say. He eyed me gently and moved closer until our knees were touching. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.

"When I woke up, I was out of this world." he whispered. "They had drugged me with something way different than a sedative. I couldn't explain it. I forgot about what had happened, the past, my motive, my parents. I was just left with this wonderful, fluttery sensation. When it wore off, I went crazy. I felt like I couldn't live without it. I learned that the Bratva was using me as a lab rat for that new drug, but I didn't care. It was called Dragon's Breath. Before long, I had forgotten all about Christina and I was taking hits every second. I felt like I couldn't live without it."

"So I kept taking the drugs even after they threw me out. I used up all of my parent's money to buy it from local drug dealers. As long as I had Dragon Breath, I didn't give two shits about anything else. My sister Isabella went missing. She was 3. I was so out of it that I didn't even notice she was gone." A tear rolled down Scar's cheek. "A month later, I found out the Bratva had taken her as payment for my addiction."

"I kept racking up money and drugs. Sevskaya Bratva was getting angry. I always said I would pay them back, but I was dead broke by then. I kept using the drugs and kept making them restless. So then one night, 5 men in pig masks came to my house. They said my parents would pay the price. I stood there, Genevieve, and I watched them kill my parents with the same drug I had gotten addicted to. They used an overdose. My mother and father were dead by the next morning, my sister still missing. I was sent to juvy and held on probation for one year. By then, I had cleaned up my act enough. I finally got myself unhooked from Dragon Breath."

"Now, I owe the Bratva 50 grand for the drugs they gave me for free. I was told I had until next year to rack up the money, or my life was next. I planned to take a plane to Chicago next month. I have the money and I just want to get it over with. I'll never forgive myself for doing that shit. I still take feel guilty whenever I think about my parents or my sister. It was my fucking fault their life ended way too soon. You don't understand, Genevieve....I went through hell those past few years. Even now, I wonder if it's worth it. But I'm too cowardly to kill myself because I don't want to face my parents again for what I did."

Tears were sliding down his face. He covered his face with his hands, shaking. My mouth was completely dry by the time he had finished. I didn't know what to think. My brain was frozen with shock. Scar wouldn't look at me, ashamed at himself. I finally realized that he wasn't really an asshole, he was just....broken. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he might have been through, but I respected him to even be here in front of me. So I did the only dumb thing that popped up in my head.

I hugged Scar.






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