Scars (The Triad 1)

“Are you alright, little one?” he murmured into my ear so only I could hear. Yea, Sebastian was definitely the cinnamon roll of the group. He gently traced his fingertips over my skin, and I cursed myself for the gooseflesh that it caused. My piece-of-shit body was constantly acting up when I didn’t need it to be. I squeezed my thighs together and prayed he didn’t notice.

I nodded once, afraid of what my voice might sound like if I spoke. His fingers dipped lower onto my collarbone and traced the dark outlines of my chest tattoo. And then lower.

“Seb, quit playing with the new toy, please.” Tristan’s voice was like a bucket of cold water. I had literally just been kidnapped. And here I was like a bitch in heat from a few soft touches on my bruised neck.

“But she’s so feisty, and her body responds so nicely,” Sebastian said into my hair. “Look at that blush.”

“Regardless, hands off.” Tristan’s face was like stone. “She’s off-limits.”

“If you’re worried about damaged goods, I can assure you that ship sailed quite a long time ago.”

Tristan just looked at me and then turned back around.

“We’re taking you to one of our safe houses,” Sebastian said as he took his arm off my shoulders.

“What the fuck, Seb!” Elliot whipped his face around. His expression was almost cartoonish in his anger. I expected his head to explode any second.

“Oh, please, Elliot. Me telling her we are taking her to a safe house tells her literally nothing. We’re blindfolding her once we get on the main road.”

“Stop bickering like a married couple or I will separate you,” Tristan sang from the front seat.

“Well, alright then. Can we at least stop and get some food on the way there? I’m dealing with a belly full of liquor and not much else, fellas. A girl’s got to eat.”

Tristan sighed and laid his head back against the headrest. He and the other two boys discussed food options like I wasn’t there. By the time we had made it to the main highway, Tristan produced a blindfold that Sebastian wrapped around my eyes.

“Can you see anything, pet?”

I groaned. This boy and his little names. “Nope. All dark, no stars, sunshine.”

His low laughter vibrated through me in a way I was not mentally okay with.

“Alright, let’s get you home and get you some food, then.” He kissed my cheek.

I figured I had pushed them all enough for the duration of the car ride and sat in silence. And listened. I listened to them talk about food, about the party, the vague details of their day tomorrow, and what they were going to do with me. Because growing up in a family like mine, you learned to always be listening. The smallest details could come to be the most important ones later on.

And if I was going to escape these three so that I could get away from my family again, every little detail mattered.