Found by Simonenko Nadia

Author:Simonenko, Nadia [Simonenko, Nadia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Young Adult, new adult realistic fiction, teen romance, new adult romance, Contemporary, lost and found, Romance, new adult contemporary romance with sex, abuse survivors, rape victim, dark romance, New Adult, college romance
Publisher: Nadia Simonenko
Published: 2013-07-02T21:00:00+00:00

Friday, April 5 – 5:35 PM

Maria

“Of course she doesn’t have proof of that,” Owen interrupts. “She didn’t know me back then. The only proof she’s seen of that is...”

I know what he’s going to do the moment his voice trails off, but I don’t know how to stop him.

He shouldn’t have to do this. He shouldn’t have to show his scars to that horrible jerk. The scars are both his burden and, in a horrible way, his inheritance. Some people leave their children with fortunes or at least wonderful memories of their time together, but his father decided that nightmares and a body covered in scars were enough for him.

His scars are even more than that, though. They’re like my book of nightmares, and one by one, they tell his story. Instead of scribbled memories inked on paper, his nightmares are all carved into his skin, forever reminding him of the horrible life he’s left behind.

I gasp as he lifts his shirt up and bares his scars to the others, to these terrible people who don’t deserve to see them. Slash after horrific slash, some faded from decades passed and others fresh, reveal themselves as his shirt rises first to his ribs and then up and over his head.

“Jesus Christ,” whispers Bill, his eyes wide with horror. “All those were from Todd?”

“He stuck to fists when I was young, but as I got older...” answers Owen quietly, his voice starting to shake, “well, he found other ways to hurt me then.”

I leap out of my chair and take his hand in mine and he smiles weakly at me before continuing his story. His eyes are sad and tired, and even though he’s looking at me, I feel as if he isn’t seeing me anymore. He’s going somewhere far away—somewhere deep in his terrifying past—as he tells his story.

I squeeze his hand and hold onto him tightly as he starts to speak. I can’t tell the story for him, but I’ll be here by his side as he tells it.

“These three on my back... well, I can only reach the first two, but they were from a broken broom,” Owen tells the DA, turning around to show him the scars. “I accidentally ran over the broom while backing the car out of the garage for my father and that was reason enough for him to beat me with the broken end of it.”

I know which ones he’s talking about, and I gently reach out and touch the unreachable bottom scar for him. It’s a long, straight brown mark running from the middle of his spine down toward the small of his back. I let my fingers linger for just a moment against his soft skin, hoping and praying that he knows that no matter what happens—no matter what story he tells—I’m here for him. He doesn’t have to be scared to tell his story or of hurting me with it. I like his scars now—they’re a part of the man I love, and I wouldn’t have him any other way.

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