Scarred Love by Brannon M. S

Author:Brannon, M. S. [Brannon, M. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Romance, Contemporary Fiction
ISBN: 1489512292
Publisher: Createspace
Published: 2013-06-06T06:00:00+00:00

Darcie

My sleep is interrupted from a pounding knock on our backdoor. I look through the peep hole and see Big Mike struggling to hold up a very drunk Reggie. It’s been quite awhile since I’ve seen him in this condition. I shake my head and pull open the door.

Big Mike tosses Reggie into a kitchen chair and leaves just as quickly. Thoughts of him with Natasha remind me of how much it hurt to watch them together. He was publicly showing everyone they were together by keeping his arms on her or around her. I’m furious with him. Not that I have any right to be, but I can’t control the jealous feelings stewing inside me. Why can’t it be me? Why can’t I be the one he wants? Now that I’ve recognized my true feelings for Reggie, I hate them. I feel weak and the night he found me I vowed to myself I would never feel weak again.

I didn’t realize I was rubbing my scar until his hand comes across the tender spot and lightly strokes my skin. The simple action ignites a spark in my broken heart and I fall for him all over again. Reggie is the person who unlocked the handcuffs around my wrists, he saw the injury at its worst and he’s been the only person who can fully take that gut-wrenching pain away.

I take a moment to really look at him, gauge how drunk he really is. The smell of stale whiskey and cigarettes fills the room. I could get drunk just by breathing the air. Reggie’s eyes are bloodshot and he can barely keep his lids open. Each time he blinks them, they stay closed a few seconds longer. Reggie opens his mouth to say something and in slow motion he tips forward, cracking his head on the tile. I suppress a laugh. Yeah, he’s gone. The humor in the situation vanishes, though, when he slams his fist into the floor. Damn! I wouldn’t be surprised if he broke his hand.

Whiskey is an evil concoction, and from experience, it can make the calmest person morph into a villainous creature. Reggie’s not immune to this and, come to think of it, neither am I. When he does finally say something it’s not the typical Reggie comment. Taking a deep breath, I talk myself down from my anger. It’s okay, Darcie, let his insult roll off your shoulders. It’s because of the whiskey, blame the whiskey. If he truly feels that way tomorrow he will have no problem communicating it.

I guide him off the floor and we start heading down the hallway to his bedroom, ping ponging into the walls along the way. My breath is nearly ripped from my chest when Reggie seethes, “I fucking hate what that bastard did to you, Darcie. I would do anything to take your pain way.”Then, before he leans into my neck, Reggie places a faint kiss to the cigar burn on my shoulder. He’s not making falling out of love with him an easy task.

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