Page 125 of The Scars Within
He let me cry and scream, his leather jacket absorbing the tears and anguish. When I finally quieted down, he gave me a few more moments of silent comfort before gently drawing back to take my hands. The sharp edges of the broken coffee mug handle caught him by surprise, causing him to pull his hand back. He glanced down at the shattered remains I still clutched.
Instead of recoiling, he curled my fingers back around the broken handle and looked into my eyes.
And then I finally just let it all go.
“After Cora got the job here, I found work in the only tavern our village had. The owner, Jaelyn, became my friend. She even taught me how to read. But one day, she had to sell the place. The new owners let us stay, but everything changed. They were vile, greedy people who only cared about lining their pockets.” I swallowed hard, my gaze falling to my feet. “I couldn’t stand how they treated Jaelyn—like she was worthless—so one day, I finally snapped. I cussed them out, and they threw me out on the street. The next day, I went back to apologize. I couldn’t lose that job, and I didn’t want Jaelyn dealing with them alone. But when I stepped inside, the place was empty. Not a soul. No workers, no customers.
“Before I could even turn to leave, something came down over my head—a bag. A hand slipped inside and covered my face, and then... nothing. I blacked out.” I wrung my hands together, my voice growing quieter. “When I woke up, I was lying on a dirt floor. My wrists and ankles were bound tight with rope, and Jaelyn... she was tied to the wall across from me. Tears streaked her face. That’s when I realized—my outburst had gotten uscaptured.”
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Jaelyn fought back whenever those bastards came in. But one day, they took her—and she never came back.” A tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. “I was left alone in that darkness for almost two years. My ropes eventually turned to iron shackles. The slaps across my face... they turned into fists. They had this favorite way of torturing me—covering my face with a cloth and pouring water down my throat.”
I paused, my breath catching as my heart hammered in my chest. “I begged them to tell me why—why they had taken me. But they wouldn’t answer. After they cracked a few of my ribs, I couldn’t take it anymore.” The sorrow inside me twisted into something hotter, angrier. “I focused on this rusty little nail sticking out of the wall. I called it my ‘beacon.’ It became a symbol in my head—no matter how bent or dull I felt, I still had a sharp edge. I still had a way out.” I scoffed bitterly. “I was so fucking naive.
“I had the brilliant idea that if I could just disappear, that all my worries would go away. It was that easy!” I threw up my hands, and I laughed. “I had grown numb anyway. I stopped feeling the pain from when they beat me. I stopped feeling fear when I knew they were about to drown me on land. I stopped wishing for someone to come rescue me. I feltnothing. I wasnothing!”
I took a deep breath in, and released. “I wanted to close my eyes and never open them again. And the ropes that I first had were long enough for me to walk over to my beacon. I leaned on the nail and pushed myself into it, slashing through my skin and muscle. Giving myself a proper meaning for the nickname ‘Scar’!” I said with a mocking tone.
Rhodes trembled, his head tilting slightly to the side as if trying to absorb every word. But his eyes never wavered from mine. The storm in his gaze was churning like it was on the verge of breaking loose and leaving destruction in its wake. I could see it—the battle he was fighting to keep his eyes from drifting to my left arm. He knew exactly what scar I was talking about, and I knew he understood its weight.
That silent exchange between us, the unspoken acknowledgment of the past, settled heavily in the air. Neither of us had to say it out loud, but the pain was there, raw and ever-present.
“I felt nothing. No pain, no sadness.” I slowly shook my head. “I was that desperate to feel something–anything– other than the profound ache buried deep within my heart. I wanted my beacon to deliver a fever into my system, but even then, the men would not let me fucking die!” I screamed and fell to my knees. Bracing myself on all fours. As I leaned back on my heels, Rhodes lowered himself down to his knees with me again.
“And my scar has done nothing but remind me every day that I failed. It’s a mark of how unworthy I feel. It is proof of how ashamed of myself I am. It is proof of the fucked up misery in my head. I wasn’t good enough for my biological parents to keep me. I wasn’t good enough for Captain Thorne to stay,” I said, my voice hushed. “My damn dragon mark didn’t even want to cover up my mistake.”
Lakota’s mournful trill echoed from above, a sound that seemed to carry his own heartache. He perched on the castle ceiling, his presence a silent witness to my misery, positioned on the opposite side from Noemi.
“That is not true,” Lakota said with a stern conviction.
I ignored him. “One day, I was so delusional that I thought I saw myself breaking open the shackles that tied me down. But then someone spoke to me, they said… ‘the rest is up to you.’ But everything was such a blur. I don’t know what really happened. I guess I had finally reached a depth in Rock Bottom where I was completely lost. I don’t know. I mean, nobody would ever come for me! But I was free, and I crawled out of that fucking shed, and I stood on my own two feet. I’ve been to Rock Bottom more times than I can count. Every time I climbed out, I would enter a deeper level once I fell back in. After being so deep, I clawed my way out with a teaspoon. And once that teaspoon broke, I clawed my way out with my bare. Fucking. Hands.” I looked down at my hands, turning my palms up to face me. “I have the scars to prove it,” I whispered.
He wrapped his hands around mine. “You are– the strongest person I know,” Rhodes said shakily, his words struck me deeply. I looked up at him. “You came from nothing, and look where you are, Scarlet. Look at what you have accomplished. Look at the people that you have in your life who care about you. The people who would do anything in order to protect you. The people that would be absolutely fucking broken-hearted to lose you,” his voice cracked.
“Why do you think I wanted to teach you how to protect yourself? My world would shatter without you in it.Youare the only person that’s ever made me want to start living again. I’ve been broken for so long that I don’t think my edges can be molded back together. Butyou, Scarlet, make me want to try.Youare my light.”
Tears traced silent paths down my cheeks as his words sank in—words I never thought I’d hear. Since the day I met Rhodes, I believed his cards on the table were all face down. But now, I understand why.
He is just as broken as I am.
Maybe life isn’t about fixing yourself so that you’re perfect on the surface.
Maybe it’s about finding the ones who see you for who you are, see you for the darkness you’ve survived, and still choose to keep you anyway.
The muscle in his jaw tightened, his gray-blue eyes swirling into a tempest of a wicked storm. “Most people would have crumbled under what you’ve endured. They would have succumbed to the darkness, taken the easy way out. But you?” He cupped my face. “You are your very own savior. Your past isn’t your enemy. Your biggest enemy is yourself. Why do you insist on torturing yourself? It’s time to wake up from this nightmare you’re living in and recognize that you are a fucking warrior. You weren’t just freed of those iron shackles. You broke the damn chain that held you down.”
“I am the hero and the villain,” I sniffled.
Rhodes slowly nodded his head and grinned softly.
His hand moved from mine to lay gently over my left arm, where my scar hides under my jacket. He gently squeezed, his grip trembling. “And it is not the scars on the surface that prove that,” he said softly. “It isthe scars withinthat show thefightin you.”
I was left speechless, my heart caught in a tangled mess of emotions. My chin dropped, and I whispered, “Thank you.”
He lowered his head until it was just inches from mine, a half-smile curving at the corner of his lips. Then, with a tenderness that made my pulse race, Rhodes tilted my face up with the lightest touch of his finger, urging me to meet his gaze. “Don’t thank me, Scarlet. Thank yourself. And don’t you dare try to hide this scar or deny the fire behind your crimson eyes. They are fierce. A force to be reckoned with. My favorite shade of red.” Rhodes grinned. “They are proof that no matter how many times you get knocked down, you will continue to fight and get back up.”
The knot in my chest tightened. “Why did you stop calling me Thorne?”
His grin widened, revealing both dimples. “Because when you told me that Captain Thorne abandoned you as a child, I realized that his name was not worthy of you.”
