He didn’t move. He just stared. At her skin. At her scars.
She recognized the look of horror on his face. Her scars were repulsive she knew, but she was devastated to see the look on his face.
He stood immobile, his eyes on the marks all over her body. He had touched, kissed her skin, but he had not felt the scars. They were just lines. Lines on her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, he couldn’t think pass them.
She pushed the door into him, fear, pain, and embarrassment etched on her face, but he couldn’t react.
“Please.” She sobbed, tears falling down her face as she pushed the door against him again. He finally took a step back letting her close the door.
Her head fell against the closed door, what was she going to do now? She wiped at her face, gathering herself together. She dealt with the repulsion before she could again. She peeked around the door. He was gone, and her bedroom door was closed.
Lily quickly dressed for dinner, but didn’t leave the room. She sat on the bed wondering if he still wanted her to go with him. Was he even still in the suite?
Clay knocked on her door. “Lily, are you ready?”
She stared at the door a moment, surprised. “Yeah.” She stood, walking to the door, opening it she stepped out in front of him her eyes on the floor. “Ready whenever you are.”
“Let’s go.” He opened the door, motioning with his hand for her to go first and he followed her out.
Clay watched Lily, her withdrawal. It was tangible, he could feel it in the air around her, see it in her demeanor. He didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say.
Her scars were far more than emotional, as he had originally thought. He had to get answers.
Her scars didn’t matter to him; well they mattered, as in how she got them. What happened to her? However, they didn’t change the way he felt about her, or how much he wanted her.
He now understood why she was so particular about her clothes. She wore nothing that showed any hint of her scars. She hid them well. They also explained why she loved the dark so much.
He thought back to the times they had been together and realized every time had been in the dark. He had never seen her body in the light. The last time she walked out on him in a panic, it had almost been daybreak, when light would have filtered into the room.
He sat next to her, not touching her, his eyes never leaving her face. “Lily,” he murmured, “we won’t stay late, only through dinner, okay?”
She inclined her head, gazing out the window.
They climbed out of the limo and entered the restaurant, his hand resting on her waist.
Melissa came over, kissing Lily’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“A little better,” Lily whispered.
Clay’s fingers tightened on her waist, he knew differently.
Amy joined them, smiling. “Lily, how are you?”
Lily turned toward Amy. “Better.”
“Good.” Amy leaned over, kissing her cheek.
Kevin and Scott came over, wrapping their arms around their wives and joining in on the conversation. They all chit chatted until it was time to go to their table.
Chapter 11
They left the restaurant during a huge thunderstorm. Lily shook. She hated storms. Clay held the suite door open and she went to her room, she didn’t look at him, she didn’t wish him a good night. She just wanted to go to sleep. Grateful she only had one and a half days left before she could go home.
Her head pounded. Her stomach churned. She lay down as the lightening brightened up her dark room, making her body tremble harder as the thunder rumbled. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, she closed her eyes hoping to find the peace only sleep would bring.
Clay sat in the living room staring out the window, watching the lightening. He wanted to talk to Lily. Wanted to find out what happened to her, but was unsure of how to approach her, what to say.
He clearly pictured the silver lines covering her body: her breasts, her stomach, and her thighs. He wondered if she had more, he hadn’t seen when he walked in on her. He placed his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes.
****
The lightening lit up the room, the thunder cracked. The nightmare came, crashing through Lily.
The knife hovered above her, light glinting off the blade as it descended toward her skin. His face red, contorted in anger, snarling at her.
She twisted in her sleep as his screaming laughter echoed through her body.
The knife touched her skin, grazing lightly then deeper making tiny little slices. Over and over again, the blade moved upon her skin, blood dripping from the tip. Droplets landed on her, her bed, rivulets of red flowing staining the sheets and the mattress.
She cried out, the pain was overwhelming, but he didn’t stop, only sneered before laughing as his fingers gripped her head tightly. He yanked her hair, ripping chunks out as he snarled. “No one leaves. No one gets away. Ever!”
Terrified she struggled desperately against her restraints begging him to stop, to let her go. But they were too tight, she couldn’t break free, couldn’t use her hands. The more she struggled the deeper the rope dug into her wrists, ripping her skin open, deluging the ropes in crimson.
The lightening flashed illuminated the room and his eyes glowed with his teeth bared as he happily carved her body.
****
Clay heard Lily’s cry, jumping to his feet he ran, throwing open her door. He stopped dead seeing her twisting and turning on the bed, quickly realizing she was stuck in the depths of a nightmare. Her fingers gripped the covers desperately, tears running down her face as her body trembled violently.
“Lily, love, wake up,” he pleaded, sitting next to her, brushing chestnut locks off her face.
She twisted, crying out again.
He grabbed her shoulders and shook slightly. “Lily!”
She cried out again, her body shaking even more at his touch.
He pulled her up and into his arms. “Lily, wake up,” he practically shouted, stricken by how her body shook.
She jerked awake. Her head flying back as she tried to scramble away from him, terror shining from her dusky eyes.
He released his hold on her shoulders. “Easy, Lily, I won’t hurt you.”
She gasped for breath, staring into space as she dragged her legs to her chest trembling violently.
“You were having a nightmare.” He stroked her cheek, catching her tears.
She just continued to stare through him. He pulled her into his arms, her knees bumping his chest. “Lily, you are safe, no one is going to hurt you, I promise.” He rubbed his hands along her back, “it was just a bad dream.”
She rubbed her head against his shoulder. No, it wasn’t a bad dream, it was - a memory.
The terror slowly receded from Lily’s mind, her body easing, his strength surrounding her, comforting her. She knew she had to move away from him, there was no point in accepting his comfort; he would be gone from her life soon anyway.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” she whispered, trying to pull away from him.
“You didn’t bother me.” Clay held her tighter, refusing to let her move out of his arms.
“Please, I am fine.” She struggled against his arms desperate to put some distance between them.
He pulled her tighter to him, his lips in her hair. “No, Lily, talk to me, tell me what happened.”
She slid her hands to his shoulders, pushing against them as hard as she could, but he didn’t budge, didn’t release her. She squeezed her eyes closed, fighting fresh tears. “Please, leave me alone.”
He wreathed his fingers into her hair as he kissed her forehead. “I can’t.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she mumbled, twisting away from him, trying to slide backwards on the bed.
He watched her face, her cheeks flooding with color. “What wasn’t supposed to happen?”
“You… me…,” she sniffed, rubbing her nose, “stupid….”
“Stupid?” he asked.
“A mistake,” she looked up at him through teary eyes, “it shouldn’t have happened.”
He tilted her head back. “Why?”
“Because…” She struggled against his arms again. “Please, let me go.”
“No,” he whispered, tightening his hold, “talk to me, Lily. Tell me what happened.”
She shook her head.
“Please,” he whispered, laying his forehead against hers. “ Tell me why you have such nightmares, and about your scars. Tell me what happened. I want to know, I need to.”
She pushed hard against him and he loosed his arms. She shifted back on the bed until she leaned against the headboard. “I can’t. Just forget about me, I will leave soon and we will never have to see each other again.”
He leaned forward, cupping her elbows, pulling her back into his arms brushing her lips with his. “Never see each other again? What if I don’t want that, Lily, what if I want to be with you?”
Her head flew up, staring at him. “Be with me, why?”
He stroked her cheek. “I care for you. I manipulated Don and you into this week because I wanted a chance with you.”
She gasped. “What…?”
“I wanted you. I have for a long time.” Clay brushed his lips over hers again.
“You made a mistake,” she whispered.
“Why?” His tongue traced her lips.
“I can’t be with you.” She lowered her head, not wanting to look into his tawny eyes filled with something she didn’t dare believe in.
He caught her chin again, gently pulling it up so he could see her eyes. “Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t,” she cried, jerking her head out of his hands.
“Why?” Clay asked.
“Why?” She repeated.
He smiled gently, his fingers tracing her lips, “Because you have scars? I care how you got your scars Lily, but having those scars doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“Stop,” she cried, pushing against him, “just stop.”
He shook his head no. “Tell me. Talk to me. I will find out one way or another.”
He leaned over turning the light on. Lily flinched, trying to scramble away but he refused to let her.
“Let me see,” he whispered, watching fear skitter across her face.
She shook her head. Why was he doing this to her? Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
He pulled her towards him. “I am going to love you, Lily,” Clay whispered, his fingers tangling in her hair, his mouth kissing away her tears. “I am going to see, no darkness this time.”
“No!” she gasped.
Chapter 12
Clay gazed into Lily’s tear soaked eyes. “Yes, Lily.” His mouth touched hers moving slowly, gently.
He moved his hands along her arms, clasping her hands in his. He pulled his mouth from hers, kissing her hands before placing them on his shoulders.
He traced her lips with his tongue, teasing until her fingers clenched on his shoulders, her lips parting. His tongue entered her mouth, playing, enticing her tongue to meet his, caressing, stroking.
He laid her back on the bed, his tongue plunging into her mouth. He made no other move, didn’t touch her. His mouth on hers, his body lying against hers, kissing her until her hands wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.
He moved to her side, his hand sliding over her shoulder to tease her breast through her clothes. His fingers stroked her puckered nipple.
“I want to love you,” he whispered against her lips, “let me.”
His mouth touched each inch of her face, her eyes, over her chin to her ear sucking the lobe into his mouth.
He came up on his knees above her. Her passion, need, and fear visible within her dusky depths. “I want you and the scars you bear are part of you.”
He pulled her to her knees, grabbing the bottom of her dress he began edging the dress up her thighs until it bunched at her waist. He unzipped the dress, pulling it up and over her head letting it float to the floor.
He took in her slip, her bra. She wore layers and layers to hide her scars. He didn’t want her to hide her scars, to be ashamed of them. He gripped the edge of her slip, slipping it up over her hips and soon the slip followed her dress to the floor along with her garter and thigh-hi’s.
He stared at the scars on her stomach, her thighs. He unhooked her bra, drew the bra down her arms dropping it on the floor. His eyes roamed her breasts taking in each scar.
He gripped her head, his mouth crashing down on hers. His tongue plunged deep, arms wrapping around her, crushing her breasts against his chest. He laid her back on the bed his body against hers, his hand tracing her breast.
He massaged her breast, teasing her nipple as his tongue skimmed over her collarbone. He looked up at her, at her wide eyes. He sat up, moving across the covers to the other side of the bed.
Lily gulped, her eyes flaring, her hand wrapping around his elbow trying to prevent him from turning the light on.
He turned the little knob, the light flicked on shining brightly. “Shh…,” he kneeled over her as he pulled his shirt off dropping it on the pile on the floor.