The Scars Keeper Read online

  The Scars Keeper

  Scarlet Wolfe

  Copyright © 2016 Scarlet Wolfe Books

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1535400206

  ISBN-10: 153540020X

  Contents

  Notes

  Dedication

  The Scars Keeper Music Playlist

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  End Notes

  Alternatives to Self-Harm

  Acknowledgements

  Notes

  This novel is written from the points of view of Avery and Hayden.

  It is for a mature audience due to harsh language, sexual scenes and graphic content pertaining to self-injury.

  Dedication

  The Scars Keeper is dedicated to those who have found recovery from self-harm and those who are still searching.

  Sometimes the greatest show of strength is reaching out for help. You’re not alone.

  To Write Love On Her Arms

  Helpline numbers and alternatives to self-injury are listed at the end of this novel.

  The Scars Keeper Music Playlist

  YouTube Channel

  Chapter One

  “Coming Down” – Five Finger Death Punch

  (This video contains graphic content)

  “Rescue My Heart” – Liv Longley

  “Not Alone” – Red

  Chapter Three

  “There’s A Ghost” – Fleurie

  Chapter Five

  “Numb” – Lincoln Park

  Chapter Six

  “By Your Side” – Tenth Avenue North

  Chapter Nine

  “Chasing Cars” – Snow Patrol

  Chapter Twelve

  “Scars” – Papa Roach

  Chapter Thirteen

  “The Last Time” – Skillet

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Fix You” – Coldplay

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Force Of Nature” – Bea Miller

  “Closer” – Tegan and Sara

  Chapter Twenty

  “Can’t Help Falling In Love” – Elvis (Twenty One Pilot Cover)

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Daughters” – John Mayer

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Avery” –

  Music by D.M. Shreve and lyrics by Scarlet Wolfe

  “Hysteria” – Def Leppard

  “All Around Me” – Flyleaf

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Homecoming Queen” – Hinder

  Chapter Thirty

  “Strong Enough” – Sheryl Crow

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Tell Her You Love Her” – Echosmith

  “More Of You” – Chris Stapleton

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Firework” – Katy Perry

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “You Are In Love” – Taylor Swift (Cover by Sarah Close)

  “Crash Into Me” – Dave Matthews Band

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Never Be Alone” – Shawn Mendes

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Til My Heart Stops” – Too Far Moon

  “My Immortal” – Evanescence

  Chapter Forty

  “Iris” – The Goo Goo Dolls

  “Pieces” – Red

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Check Yes Juliet” – We the Kings

  “Hanging by a Moment” – Lifehouse

  “Stand By You” – Rachel Platten

  Thank you to those who created the lyrical videos to the above songs at YouTube.

  Chapter One

  Avery

  My phone beeps the second I lay it on the kitchen counter. I glance down and read my father’s second text message that’s instructing me to call him.

  I didn’t answer the first one since I was in the shower washing away the scent of my teacher’s cologne.

  At the end of the school day, when the asshole made me stay after, he ducked his head to my neck to breathe me in. It left his odor lingering, along with the haunting memories of his disturbing behavior.

  Swiping tears away from my cheeks, I amble to the refrigerator and grab a block of cheese from inside. I find some crackers from the walk-in pantry and take them back to the counter.

  My phone rings this time. It’s Dad again. “Crap,” I mumble as I drop my food and pick up the phone. “Hello.”

  “Why haven’t you answered me?” he asks tersely.

  “I was in the shower.” Positioning the block of cheese, I pull a long knife from the butcher block and tilt my head to press my phone against my shoulder.

  “Mr. Bradford left me a voicemail.”

  I freeze with the blade resting on the block of cheddar.

  “Uh, what did he say?”

  “He said until further notice, he’d be having you stay after school two days a week to tutor you. What the hell, Avery? You’re a straight A student.”

  “I’m having trouble in physics, but Blake’s going to help me. Please don’t make me do the tutoring. I’ll do anything else you ask of me.”

  I can’t be left alone with that creep.

  “If he says you have to stay after, then you’re staying, but I told him it would be on Tuesdays and Thursdays so as not to interfere with your tennis, and you better resolve this quickly.”

  “Dad, I’m sorry. I swear I’ll study extra hours. Just don’t make me stay after school with him. I’m trying my best to bring up my grade.”

  “If this is your best, then it’s not good enough. I have a patient; we’ll discuss this later.” As if my father’s slamming a gavel in a courtroom, a crack of thunder outside blasts against the house, causing me to shudder.

  The call goes silent, so I toss my cell onto the tan counter. I eye the knife shaking in my right hand. The black handle is maybe four inches, the mirror-like blade double that.

  My dread climbs with tears that have nowhere else to go. They tumble over and slide down my cheeks before they fall to m
y white tank top and blue shorts I put on after my shower.

  The pressure from everyone to be perfect in an imperfect world confuses the hell out of me. I can’t survive more of Mr. Bradford’s sexual advances or the cruelty from my father.

  I’m expected to keep a 4.0 and excel in sports and clubs. All eyes are on me at school, my peers waiting for me to screw up. They’d love that.

  It doesn’t matter that I’ll graduate high school in three months in the top five percent of my class. My parents have made it clear the expectations will only be greater once I’m in college.

  I’m forced to walk this tightrope they placed me on years ago, and I’m losing my balance. I’m tired, weak and no longer able to bear another second of this arduous life. I strive to leave my mark in it, but I fail with every breath.

  You want to leave a mark in this world, Avery. That should be your ultimate goal in life.

  Dad’s frequent words play over in my head. Fine. If my best isn’t good enough, then I’ll make the mark that takes little skill but leaves a lasting impression.

  Clutching the knife in my hand, I bolt out the back door off the kitchen. The fifty-eight degree March air hits my exposed arms and legs the second my bare feet step onto the deck.

  We’ve only lived in this house a month, so I don’t know what lies beyond the woods at the rear of the property, but I run toward them, anyway.

  My wet blond hair bounces against my back with every step, sending a chill through me.

  My breath is hot.

  My body cold.

  Adrenaline spiking.

  I’m running away from everything bad to a place where I’ll finally find peace.

  After close to a minute of racing down a narrow, barely worn path of grass, dirt and dead leaves, I reach a clearing.

  It’s a circle surrounded by trees and the brush of the woods. Coming to an abrupt stop, I tilt my head back to catch my breath.

  I stare at the ominous sky above. Along with the whistling wind that whips its way through the forage, the angry grey clouds are setting the stage for the dire scene I’m creating.

  A thunderous boom shakes the ground as if it’s warning me of the mortal decision I’ve made. The wind stings my eyes and sends a shiver down my spine.

  This is it. No more pain. Just do it fast so it doesn’t hurt.

  I cross my arm over my chest and position the knife to the left side of my neck. My body is shaking, and I’m fighting to hold the blade still as my reality consumes me.

  I’m one harsh breath away from crippling terror, but I can’t let it win, or my shameful existence will continue.

  I release a guilty, sorrowful cry over the pain this will inflict on the few who I believe actually care for me.

  I’m sorry–I’m sorry–I’m sorry.

  Don’t hate me.

  Do it, Avery.

  Clenching my eyes shut, I will forth the courage to go through with it.

  “Stop!”

  Startled, my eyelids fly open and I shriek. Across the circle clearing, maybe twenty feet away, is Hayden Jamison. He’s a fellow senior at my high school, and we’ve never spoken … until now.

  His brow is pinching together as he stares at me with an expression displaying confusion rather than panic.

  “Stay away from me. I swear I’ll do it!”

  He takes slow steps toward me, and the dirt, twigs and pine needles rustle beneath his laced-up boots.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I order as he gets within ten feet or so and stops.

  “Relief or revenge,” he says.

  “What?” My hand trembles, and I feel the pressure of the blade against my skin.

  “Death … Will it bring you relief or revenge?”

  “Both.” He’s stock-still, staring through me with his black eyes. Paired with his grey shirt and ragged blue jeans, he’s menacing, matching the charcoal clouds threatening to soak us above.

  “Do you want to know what you’ll get if you slice your neck open?”

  “Peace is what I’ll finally get.”

  “No. It’s regret. Good memories will flash in your mind, one after another. The dreams you’d hoped to experience in the future will be next.

  “Then, I’ll watch it all pass before your eyes as blood squirts and pours from your carotid artery until it’s bubbling out of your mouth, streaming from the corners and dripping off your jaw. You’ll drown from your crimson life on this cold, wet ground.”

  I suck in successive sharp breaths before they burst free inside a resounding cry. I pry open my fingers, dropping the knife to the earth before I fall next and hit that cold, damp ground.

  I’m on my side and sobbing, watching Hayden come closer. The rain sporadically falls, and as his dusty black boots stand before my face, clean circles appear on them, the dirt washing away from the pelts of water.

  He squats in front of me, and if I wasn’t already terrified of myself, I might be of him. My palm and cheek are pressed to the ground as I tilt my eyes up and stare into his.

  Thin lips are parted, and jet-colored hair that reaches just shy of his chin is draped around his face.

  He grabs the knife, twists his torso, and launches the shiny blade straight at a tree, sticking it as if he’s done it a thousand times.

  Moving upright, he steps one foot over to straddle my body, and I gasp. He shoves a hand between my side and the ground before he scoops me up into his arms. Mine circle his neck.

  I’m panting for air between my cries, wrestling with confusion over two stark emotions. Anguish that my internal pain didn’t end, and relief that he saved me.

  My need to cling to him for protection is overwhelming, and that means hope still lies somewhere inside of me.

  “Which way?” he asks. I release his neck long enough to point at the path to the right. He carries me toward it, and the rain breaks free from the clouds after a strike of lightning and the bellow of thunder.

  My arms loosely circle his neck, and I stare at the sharp line of his jaw. A thin scar bows from the corner of his mouth to the ridge of his chin.

  Realizing I’m staring, I rest my cheek against his chest and tighten my hold on him. I’m trembling from the cold and my wracked nerves, but his snug t-shirt warms me a touch.

  Entering the woods, the trees lining the path protect us from the rain that’s pouring, droplets only teasing us through the tiny breaks within the branches.

  We reach the large clearing that’s my manicured backyard. He stops and stares toward my massive home, so I raise my head.

  “Is anyone inside?”

  “No. My parents won’t be home until at least eight.” Is it safe to tell him that?

  He begins walking again and doesn’t stop until he reaches my back door. Like he knew it’d be unlocked, he turns the handle and steps inside my kitchen. He lowers me to my feet and looks around.

  I’m scared. Scared to look at his face yet fearful he’ll leave me alone. I turn to eye him but chicken out.

  Instead my gaze shifts to the left, and I stare at the pouring rain through the three windows that enclose the breakfast nook. A white round table and matching chairs fill the space.

  “I’m not leaving until I see you’re OK. My DNA’s now all over you, and I’m not getting a murder charge because you harmed yourself once I left.”

  Wow, he’s really thought this through. So, was he only helping me in the woods because he thought he’d get in trouble from having stumbled upon me?

  No. Even with his stoic expression through it all, his words were too poignant. He didn’t want me to die. Shivering from the cold, I brave a look at him.

  “You should take a shower to warm up,” he says. “It might calm your nerves, too.”

  “Um, will you sit in my room while I take it? I don’t want to be alone.”

  One of his eyebrows lifts, and for the first time he looks amused. “You’re sure your parents won’t show up?”

  “I’m sure. Their business doesn’t even close for a coup
le more hours.”

  “Alright.” His gaze drops to my chest. I look down and see from the chill that my nipples are at attention through my thin tank top. Crap. I forgot I didn’t put a bra on after I showered.

  I let out one cough and gnaw on my lip. With no urgency, his eyes travel upward, and an eyebrow lifts again, like he’s wondering why I’m not moving my bare feet, but I’m battling another war within.

  Blake, my boyfriend, would flip if he knew I had another guy in my bedroom, but I guess he never has to know.

  I mean, it’s not like I’d ever tell him what I was about to do in the woods. We share a lot, but it’s not something he could ever understand. He’s still balancing perfectly on his tightrope.

  I turn and lead the way. Thankfully, our floors are made of cherry wood, so Hayden’s dirty boots won’t leave a stain. He follows me up the stairs to the second floor.

  I’m still trembling as he walks in behind me. I look around to make sure none of my undergarments are strewn on the floor, and my gaze lands on the boxes by the window to my left.

  “Uh, we just moved in about a month ago. I haven’t put everything away.” I point to a black chair in the corner next to the boxes. It rests low to the floor and has no sides. “You can sit there.”

  Strolling over to it, he takes a seat as I begin looking through my dresser for an outfit I could put on. He’s staring at me with his hands laced behind his head, and it’s unnerving.

  I find some pink sweats and a black scoop-neck top. In another drawer, I discreetly find panties and a bra.

  “I guess I’ll go shower now.” He pulls his cell phone from his pocket, along with some earbud headphones that he plugs into it. Without a word, he slouches down in the chair, leans his head back and closes his eyes.

  Well, alrighty then. I see he’s a man of few words.

  Once I’m in the bathroom, I shut and lock the door and look in the mirror. I have to cover my mouth so he doesn’t hear my squeal. I am one hot mess!