Scarred (Unlikely Heroes Book 5) (13 page)

The waitress returned with his Guinness and Emily’s water. Sebastian eyed the beer for a long moment, then handed it back to the waitress. “I changed my mind. I’ll have water instead.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “Be right back.”

Sebastian’s gaze flicked to Emily. “You’re right. Thanks for stopping me from doing something stupid.”

Emily didn’t know how to respond to that, so she just nodded.

The waitress returned with Sebastian’s water and took their orders. She eyed Sebastian for a long moment.

“You’re not Sebastian Wolfe, are you?”

Sebastian hesitated. Emily could see he wanted to deny it.

“I am.” He winked. “But don’t tell anyone else.”

The woman blushed and hurried away, a big smile on her face.

Emily studied him. “You sure know how to be charming when you want.”

Sebastian’s gaze met hers. “It’s called manipulation. Make them feel like they’re sharing a secret, like they’re special, and they go away happy.” He took a sip of his water, then slid his glass aside. Did he wish it was beer?

Emily stared at him, her heart pounding as a sinking realization hit her.

He cocked a brow. “What?”

“Is that what you’re doing with me? Manipulating me?”

He snorted. “I thought I was in the beginning. That had been my original plan. But I have no control over you, Emily. None whatsoever. You baffle me. I never know what you’re going to do from one moment to the next.”

Original plan
? What was he talking about? Her cheeks heated, but she didn’t look away from the seriousness in his eyes. “Why did you invite me on this road trip?”

He slid the water in front of him again and wrapped his lips around the straw. His throat moved as he swallowed. He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I wanted someone to come with me so I wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Emily stared into his eyes, trying to decipher if he was being honest with her. “Is that true? You didn’t have…an ulterior motive?”

He cocked that brow again. “Am I hoping to get you into bed? Of course I am. I’ll be hoping for that until it finally happens.”

Emily’s face grew hotter, but she didn’t look away from him. “And if I never give in?”

“You will. Women always do. I’ve never had one hold out this long before.”

Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “I hate to disappoint you, but you’re overinflated ego is not very attractive. I’m not ‘holding out.’ I’m just never sleeping with you. Not until…” She broke off and lowered her gaze. She’d been about to say “not until I’m ready.” But she also meant “not until
you’re
ready.” When she felt Sebastian was ready, when he’d healed from his demons, when he wasn’t hiding or keeping secrets anymore, she would let him kiss her. Assuming he was still interested when that time arrived. She had no expectations when it came to him. Right now he was just playing a game and she wasn’t about to play along with him. She would not become one of his floozies, no matter what he said or did. If they never became anything more than friends, she would be satisfied with that. Or so she told herself.

Interest flickered in his eyes. “Not until what? Tell me, what do I have to do to get you in my bed? You can’t challenge me and expect me to not take you up on the challenge.”

Her face grew even hotter, if that were possible. “I’m not challenging you. I’m stating a fact. I’m not sleeping with you. So give it up.”

His gaze zoomed in on her mouth. “I haven’t kissed you yet. You’ve got the sexiest fucking mouth I’ve ever seen. I’ve been fantasizing about it for days. When I kiss you, we’ll see what happens.”

The waitress returned with their meals before Emily could come up with a snarky retort. Damn him. He was making her nervous. Was he really that obsessed with her mouth? She shouldn’t have come with him. She should have stayed in Coeur d’Alene where she felt safe. Sebastian had lured her out of her comfort zone.

But she wasn’t scared of him. He wouldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t force her to do something she wasn’t ready for.

She was scared of her reaction to him. If he kissed her, she had no idea what she might do. And that scared the crap out of her. The thought of his lips on hers made her heart pound and her head spin with fantasies of her own.

But damn him, she was not about to become one of his floozies.

Having sex with him doesn’t make you a floozy. You could use him just as much as he uses you. You know he’ll be a good lover. You should take advantage of that and use him to help you heal.

Appalled by her thoughts, she jumped up from the table. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

How could she even contemplate sleeping with Sebastian, using him like that?

She needed a moment away from him. To think. To calm her thundering heart. To brace herself for what might come.

I will not let him touch me. I will not let him kiss me. I will not sleep with him.

When she returned to the table several minutes later, she felt his gaze on her, but she didn’t look at him. Sliding into her seat, she picked up her fork and delved into her chicken pot pie. It was delicious and soon she relaxed and enjoyed her meal.

Sebastian remained silent throughout the remainder of the meal. He finished before she did and leaned back to watch her across the table. His piercing light blue gaze made her uncomfortable. Was he trying to unnerve her? Why? She didn’t like the way he was acting today, saying things that made her uncomfortable. Was it just sexual frustration that was causing him to treat her like this?

Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she lifted her gaze and glared at him.

“Stop staring at me. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

He lifted his water and took a sip, his gaze never leaving her. He was obviously enjoying her discomfort.

Emily decided to put him on the spot, turn the discomfort toward him. “So what made you become an addict?”

Shame flashed in his eyes before he lowered his gaze. “I’d rather not talk about that.”

“Why not? I don’t know hardly anything about you, except you’re a vet and a big-screen actor who spent three years in prison for drugs. I’m basically putting my life in your hands coming on this trip with you, since you’re driving and I’m just a passenger. Don’t you think I have a right to know about your past?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I started using because it’s…” He stared down at the tabletop as he searched for the right words. “In my DNA.”

Meaning what, that he had a parent who was an addict and had passed that trait down to him?

“And because I couldn’t deal with him anymore.”

Emily hadn’t expected such honesty from him. “Your father?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“When did you first start using?”

He squirmed in his chair, still not meeting her gaze. “When I was fifteen.”

Fifteen? That was the same age she’d been when she’d been kidnapped. Fifteen was such a vulnerable age. Emily’s hell had started at age fifteen. Sebastian’s had begun much sooner. If he’d turned to drugs at age fifteen, how long had he been suffering at his father’s hands and how had he managed to cope before then? He must have felt so desperate and alone. Compassion overcame her desire to make him squirm. She wasn’t a cruel person. She never wanted to hurt Sebastian. He’d suffered so much in his life, and he’d only told her a small portion of what he’d gone through.

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have probed. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or cause you any pain.”

He held her gaze, then jerked his head in a nod. “You had a right to ask. But I would never put you in danger. I’m not that selfish. I’m sorry I…teased you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable either.” 

He pulled his hand back. He motioned the waitress over and asked for the bill. Sebastian left the woman a hefty tip and signed his autograph on a napkin for her. She squealed in delight, thanked him profusely, then rushed off with a huge grin on her face.

Sebastian rose. “You ready? We can travel down the coast until dark, then stop somewhere for the night.”

Emily nodded. When she was behind him on the bike, she didn’t have to talk to him. She could sit and think and enjoy the view.

Minutes later they were heading south down the 101. Emily decided to not worry about what might happen later and just enjoy the ride. With the wind whipping her hair behind her, the smell of saltwater filling her nostrils, and the ocean crashing against the sand off in the distance, she felt free for the first time in a long time. Free. She understood now why Sebastian liked it so much.

She vowed she would do whatever she could to help him heal, to help him face his demons.

Sebastian was badly damaged. It would take a lot to piece him back together. A lot to make him whole.

And though she longed to be the one who helped him, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to do it. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Sebastian let the speed and the cool coastal wind whip his turmoil aside. He shouldn’t have teased Emily like that during lunch. He may have damaged their already tentative relationship, caused her to lose her trust in him. Though he’d only been playing with her, he had to remind himself what she’d suffered at the hands of some sick bastard when she was a teenager. Had his teasing frightened her away? He would never touch her without her consent, never kiss her without some indication from her that she wanted him to. No matter how much he wanted her, he would keep his hands to himself. Until she told him otherwise. It would be difficult. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her. She was just so sweet, so good. So…kind.

And so damn hot.

She had no idea how beautiful she was, how much her soft voice turned him on. How her long, lean, sexy body made him think of all the things he wanted to do to her. How much he wanted to taste her. Everywhere.

But he wouldn’t hurt her. Not intentionally. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, he sensed she still had some healing of her own to do. What if he could help her heal and in the process, help heal himself as well?

At the end of the meal, she’d twisted her discomfort around, sending it back at him. Then she’d sucked the shameful truth out of him. It hadn’t been easy to admit he’d started using at the age of fifteen, that he’d struggled so hard to escape his father’s clutches and that drugs had been his attempt to get away when nothing else worked. But Emily hadn’t judged him. Instead, she’d apologized for causing him any pain. He’d witnessed the genuine compassion in her eyes. Was she for real? She didn’t seem to want anything from him. She seemed to truly care about him. Why? Why did she care when no one else did?

They drove until nightfall, then stopped in Crescent City, a small northern California town, for the night. They booked a room at the Lighthouse Inn, then went in search of dinner. Sebastian was in the mood for Chinese and Emily said she didn’t care, so they ended up at the China Hut. Emily was more subdued than usual throughout the meal and Sebastian remained locked inside his own thoughts. He wanted to drop her off at the hotel and go get drunk somewhere. Alone.

He wore his baseball cap in the restaurant this time—he always carried it in his bike when he went places, just in case—hoping to conceal his identity, but a couple seated at the next table still recognized him and asked for his autograph. He forced a smile and obliged them, though he longed to tell them to get lost. Such was the life of a celebrity, but he could never seem to get used to it.

As soon as they finished eating, Sebastian paid the bill and they left. When they got back to the hotel, he walked Emily to the door. He started to turn away.

“Wait. You’re not coming in?” Her big dark eyes widened in surprise.

He shook his head. “I’m too restless. I need to do something.”

She eyed him disapprovingly. “Get drunk, you mean?”

He sighed and flipped the baseball cap backwards on his head to give his hands something to do. “Yeah. Or high.”

Emily took his hand and dragged him into the room with her, closing the door before he could protest. “Oh no you don’t. You didn’t come this far to relapse now. I won’t let you.”

Shame washed over him. He yanked the ball cap off his head and tossed it into a corner chair. “Are you going to help me then? Stop this overwhelming urge to lose myself in something besides the pain?”

Her gaze locked on his. “Yes. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

His heart thundered. He didn’t want to read too much into her offer, but what was she suggesting? Hot, passionate sex? That would certainly cure him. For awhile at least. He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels, eyeing her closely.

“And what are you suggesting, Little Miss-Perfect-Never-Does-Anything-Wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean? We both know I’m not perfect. I was going to suggest we talk about it.”

“Talk. Talk. Talk.” He turned away from her, stalked across the room, then strode back toward her. “That’s your solution for everything.”

Her expression filled with hurt. “If you’re going to be rude, then fine, go on, go get drunk or high, go throw away the last six years you’ve spent getting your life back on track. I don’t know why you’re so resistant to talking. You’d be amazed how much it helps you heal.”

She turned away from him. “I can’t believe I wasted my time telling you my secret. I should have known you wouldn’t reciprocate. You’re too much of a coward.”

Her words chilled him, a trickle of ice spearing his heart. She was right. He was a coward. He was terrified if he told her the truth, she’d flee in the opposite direction.

“I’m afraid,” he whispered. “If I tell you, you’ll leave. You won’t…like me anymore.” He hung his head in shame.

She turned and faced him. “When I told you my secret, did it make you like me any less?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault some sick fuck kidnapped you.”

She took a step closer, grabbed his hands in hers. “Then talk to me, Sebastian. Tell me something about yourself. Whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be good, it doesn’t have to be bad. Just start somewhere.”

He heaved out a sigh and stared down at the carpet. He swallowed hard. He could do this. “I…my father’s a prick. Like I said, he…beat me.” Heat scalded his cheeks. He turned his head to the side, avoiding her gaze.

She squeezed his hands. “And that was your fault, how?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t. But I…I’m still so ashamed.”

“You don’t think I’m ashamed of what happened to me?”

“That’s different.” He pulled his hands away and stepped back.

“How so? Did you ask your father to beat you?”

He choked out a humorless laugh. “Of course not.”

“Tell me more,” she said softly, gazing up at him with those gorgeous dark eyes. “What did you do when he beat you?”

“What the fuck do you think I did? I cringed and cowered away from him, told him to stop.”

“And did he stop?”

Sebastian stared at a crack in the wallpaper behind her. “No.”

“At least you were brave enough to ask him to stop. I never did. I didn’t fight. I just sat there and let my tormenter abuse me.”

“Emily…” His heart squeezed, pain filling his chest. He ached for her, for what she’d endured. He sighed again. “My mother left when I was nine.” He didn’t know where that had come from, but now that he was talking, the words wouldn’t stop. “I woke up one morning and she was gone. I’d heard them fighting the night before, so I probably shouldn’t have been surprised to find her gone the next day. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t take me with her. Didn’t she love me enough? Wasn’t I lovable? Why did she leave me with that son-of-a-bitch? Why did she abandon me? Didn’t she care what he did to me? Didn’t she care he forced me to fight? That he forced me to kill?” He broke off abruptly and turned away from her, horrified by what he’d revealed. It was true. He was a murderer. Emily would surely despise him now.

Her arms came around him from behind, wrapping around his waist and squeezing him against her. “Whatever your father made you do, Sebastian, it wasn’t your fault. You were just a child.”

He snorted and pulled away from her. “Don’t pretend you aren’t sickened by what I did. Don’t pretend I don’t disgust you now.”

She grabbed his arm and spun him around. “Are you sickened, disgusted by what I did?”

He groaned. “Of course not. It wasn’t your fault. It’s not the same.”
Not even close.
“My father’s a drunk and a gambling man. A criminal. He gambles on a lot of things, most of them illegal. Underground fighting is his favorite. That was why he beat me. He was prepping me, preparing me to fight, trying to make me mean like him. He forced me to participate in my first fight when I was thirteen. I didn’t want to do it. I hated fighting. But I didn’t have any choice. I lost that fight. I got my ass kicked. He beat the shit out of me afterwards. He was furious because he lost a thousand dollars on that fight. He told me if I lost again, he’d kill me.” He clenched his fists, wanting to hit something. 

She squeezed his arm, her touch gentle, soothing. “How long did he make you fight?”

He drew in a ragged breath. “Until I was seventeen. I killed someone. It was an accident. When I hit the kid, he smacked his head on the brick wall behind him. He went down hard and never woke up. Everyone scrambled, leaving him lying there in the street. My father was happy because I won and he’d bet a lot of money on that fight.” He sighed, forced himself to look at her. “I left that night. Ran as far and as fast as I could. I was a killer. A
murderer
. I was never going back. I changed my name, fled across the country, found myself in L.A. auditioning for a role in a T.V. show. Even now, all these years later, I still see that’s kid’s face in my dreams. That’s one of the reasons why I can’t sleep. It’s too…haunting. I swore I would never fight or hurt another person again. I managed to keep that promise for a long time. But when I joined the Cobras six years ago to help Craig out, I had to do horrible things, I had to fight Craig, I had to dismember and bury bodies…” He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Don’t you see, Emily? I’m a disgusting human being. How could anyone love me? How could anyone even
like
me?”

“So you hide behind the acting,” she whispered. “Pretending to be someone you’re not.”

He swallowed hard, unable to look away from the tenderness, the understanding in her gaze. Why didn’t she hate him? Why didn’t she think he was a horrible person?

“Yes.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I started pretending the first time he hit me. Instead of a scared little boy, I became a superhero or a fierce predator like a panther. I pretended he wasn’t hurting me, that I was the one hurting him, slashing him open with sharp fangs and wicked claws. Or escaping, getting away with some kind of superpower.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Pathetic, I know. But I got so good at pretending, at acting, that I decided to do it for a living. You’ve seen my movies. I’m good at it. It’s probably the only thing I’m truly good at.”

“You don’t like acting,” she observed quietly. “So why do you do it?”

“Like I said, I’m good at it.”

“You’re good at saving things too. Look at all the animals you rescued. That’s something to be proud of. Why did you decide to become a vet?”

He hesitated. “When I was ten, this kid at school was giving away puppies, so I took one home. I had always wanted a dog, but my father would never let me have one. I called him Spot because he had a black spot over his right eye. He was some kind of an ugly mutt, but I didn’t care. When he had an accident on the carpet, my father went ballistic. He threw Spot at me and told me to clean it up. But he threw Spot so hard that I wasn’t able to catch him and Spot broke his leg when he hit the floor. He yipped and cried while I tried to comfort him. I took him outside and slept out on the front porch with him so my father wouldn’t hurt him anymore. I had to go to school the next day, so I wrapped Spot in a blanket and vowed when I got home I would find a way to take him to a vet and get his leg fixed. I would volunteer my services for the rest of my life if I had to. But when I got home from school that day, Spot was gone. My father said he couldn’t stand listening to him whine so he got rid of him.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh Sebastian. How can you think you’re horrible? After all you’ve been through, you’re still such a good person.”

He snorted. “Every time I save a dog, I tell myself I’m making up for being unable to stop my father from killing Spot. And every time I can’t save one, I wonder if I should be the one who is euthanized instead.”

She inhaled sharply. “You don’t mean that.” She touched his arm again, gently running her fingers up and down.

“Yeah, I do. I killed someone, Emily. I can never bring him back, no matter what I do.” He stared down at her hand over his arm, his skin tingling at her touch.

“That’s another reason why you save things,” she whispered. “You’re trying to make up for the kid who died.”

“Yeah.”

He pulled his gaze back to hers, surprised by the tears trickling down her cheeks. “Why are you crying for me again? I’m not worthy of your tears.”

“I’m crying because you won’t,” she whispered. “Because a scared little boy had to fight off a monster all by himself for seventeen years. Because that boy blames himself for things he was forced to do against his will. Because that boy needs to know it wasn’t his fault. And the man he is now needs to know he
is
loveable. He
is
a good person. And he needs to learn to let it all go. To let the past stay in the past where it belongs. You say I need to live, but you’re the one who’s not living, Sebastian.”

He sucked in a breath. Words failed him. His brain went numb with…shock. She couldn’t be serious. Him, loveable? Him, a good person? She was either delusional or…

“You’re just saying that.” He ignored the last part of what she said, not wanting to believe it. Not wanting to admit he was the one who was hiding. He’d been hiding for a long time.

She grabbed both his hands in hers. “I’m not the actor,” she murmured, looking into his eyes. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. I can’t pretend like you do. But I’m not judging you for it,” she added quickly. “You did what you had to do to survive. And you still came out of it a good person. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you’ll be on the road to healing. And the sooner you’ll learn how to be happy.”