Scarred

Chapter 01

Glasses clinked together as sweaty, hormonal and drunk teenagers embraced each other in sexual dances, hands discovering each other's bodies hungrily while feet moved to the beat of the heavy, loud music. The neon lights flashed throughout the massive dancefloor, illuminating the flushed faces of the dancing crowd. Four men dressed in black blocked the carpeted corridor which led to the luxurious suite at the very back of The Cabana nightclub.

The Platinum suite, wasn't a room that you'd usually find in a nightclub. It wasn't meant for the usual teenagers driven by alcohol and lust to sleep with each other. The suite, instead, consisted of a mini bar, a gaming area and a long table with chairs around it. This was the place where the wanted citizens of the UK, sometimes even outside met up, and The Cabana itself was run by the leader of the Devils, Scar.

And this particular day, that is, 19th of October, 2014, it was the discussion between Scar himself and the leader of the Plague, Dylan. The young criminal waited for the arrival of the most feared man in every corner of London, Scar. His young sister November sat next to him, not daring to let out a single word, the whole situation having clouded her young heart with fear and disgust.

Her blue eyes were shielded by her long brown hair, her white dress screaming out innocence. Dylan could sense her anxiety, but she had to get used to it. She was soon to be accompanying him in his busy life as the heart of the Plague. There were two more men from his gang outside of the room, Nicolas and Logan, and two more chairs were occupied by two of the Devils.

The tension in the air was thick, for it was very rare for such a meeting to end well. As for November, it was all new, she had turned 19 only three days ago, and her birthday present was being selected as a member of the Plague. India wasn't expecting it at all. She was aware that her brother was a dangerous man with many records, but never did she dare think that she would have to take part in his illegal deals. She had been an ordinary girl with ordinary dreams; go to college, get married, become an artist... It was what she truly wanted.

The stream of jumbled thoughts messing with her head was interrupted rather unexpectedly when the suite door was flung open, the man that appeared in front of the room's occupants taking her breath away. He was tall, lean yet muscular, his golden skin covered in a black, half unbuttoned shirt and a dark blazer, skinny jeans sticking to the length of his legs. His hair was curly, pushed back in a quiff, his eyes a sparkling green, quite contrast to his baby pink lips. He would've seemed less threatening, if he didn't have a huge, slightly visible mark running down his cheek.

It wasn't ugly, no, but it was so out of place, his dark aura growing even darker as the light from the ceiling reflected off to his face. But November found it attractive, and she pushed the thought to the back of her head, horrified by the fact that she found another man's pain attractive. Plump, pink lips were stretched into a smug smirk as his eyes scanned the untouched body of November, wondering how good she would be in bed.

Scar sat down on a chair, lifting his legs up and placing them on the wooden table. November thought it was rude, and she would've given him a piece of her mind if he wasn't so intimidating. "Speak," Scar rasped out, eyes still fixed on the young brunette, but she knew he wasn't addressing her. Clearing his throat, Dylan spoke up. "So, umm... Sir, we were hoping you'd..."

Despite having conquered so many rivals, Dylan couldn't help but stutter. Scar's gaze was still settled on November alone, but he cut Dylan off with a wave of his hand. "What do you want from me?" His husky voice inquired, and she shivered at some unknown sensation. "I want our gangs to be allies. Scar pondered the request for a moment. Allies? He laughed mentally. He could swipe the Plague off the wanted list in one second.

" What's in it for me?" He chuckled, observing how November looked at her beloved brother, biting her luscious bottom lip. "Sir, we specialise in importing marijuana from all over the world and distributing in London and you could...." Scar's deep laughter boomed across the room. Dylan gulped. He had messed up, big. "Marijuana? You think I'd give my loyalty to your gang because of a couple kilos of marijuana?" He growled.

"Sir... We can... We can make a deal... We can.." Dylan tried to think of something else to be given to the dark man on front of him in exchange of alliance. "You know what you can do?" Scar licked his lips, pink tongue dragging across the plumpness of his soft and full lips. "You can give me her," he spoke slowly, looking straight at November. She froze, her breath hitching in her throat and heart skipping a beat.

Dylan gulped. "I'm sorry sir but she's my sister and...." With one wave of Scar's hand, the two Devils had pinned the leader of the Plague to a wall, guns pressed to his left temple and chest. Dylan closed his eyes, trying to fight back, but it was no use. Scar laughed, turning to face the wide eyed girl, looking at him with horror and disgust.

"Now now princess," Scar lit a Red Marlboro cigarette, inhaling deeply and blowing a puff of air into the cold, tense atmosphere of the Platinum Suite. Throwing his legs back to the floor, he got up, striding towards November and grabbing her chin. "I'll give you two options," he growled in her ear. "Either you come with me, and save your brother's ass, or you both see each other at the morgue," he laughed, tracing a line with his finger down to her jaw.

Dylan struggled harder, and she knew what she had to do. Dylan was all she had, and as long as he was safe, she wouldn't care about herself. She looked at Dylan, eyes full of an apology for something she wasn't at fault for. "I'm..." She started, only to be cut off by her brother. "No November, don't!" He yelled. Before she could change her mind, Scar raised his voice. "Quiet!"

The whole room fell silent, all five occupants breathing heavily, some of exhaust, one of anger, and the other of fear. "Go on, kitten, say it, cmon," he encouraged. "I'll.. I'll come with you." Scar smirked. He won. He always did. He grabbed November's small hand in his rough, calloused one and tugged her closer. "How do I know if you'll let him go?" She spat, venom in her voice. "You don't, kitten. You don't."