Scarred (Bullied Series #5) (SAMPLE)

Prologue

Six months earlier

September

"You asshole!" I shouted at Hayden, my brother's friend, as he dragged away Sarah like the caveman he was.

This night had suddenly taken a wrong turn. My parents were away on a trip, which translated into my brother, Steven, throwing a party in our house. I'd invited my new friends and we'd had a good time, but this crazy jerk was messing it up.

I struggled to believe my own eyes, hardly feeling the throbbing in my hand from the blow my fist had delivered to his face. Who the hell did he think he was, forcing Sarah to leave with him? And to say he owned her? Abusive prick.

To top it all off, I couldn't do anything to stop him. I couldn't help Sarah. I should've knocked him to the ground. And then puked on him—twice, for good measure.

Jessica and Mateo stood next to me, equally perplexed by his brutish ways. Mateo's face was bruised and bloody courtesy of that caveman, who could now have his way with Sarah, and there would be no one to stop him.

I flinched. The all-too-familiar acidic anger bloomed in my chest at the very thought, but I tapped into it, relying on it, as always, to push any other feeling away.

I clenched my hands, imagining punching his sneering face repeatedly. "There's a special place in hell for fuckheads like you. It's right beside a dumpster filled with piles of shit. I'm going to send you there myself," I gritted out.

Blondie, one of Hayden's friends, snorted, and I turned my glare on him. His icy blue eyes sliced into me. "Just so you know, if you mess with Hayden, you mess with us."

Instantly, my dislike for him grew from one hundred to ten thousand. If I remembered right, his name was something like Masen, but it should have been Douchebag. He had a baby face, muscles layered on muscles, and an aura of overconfidence. He was just the kind of guy I hated with a passion.

Next to him was another of Hayden's friends, who looked to be the same kind of annoying barbarian. They were in our way like Hayden's living shield, which doubled my anger. We couldn't just deal with one asshole, no, we had to deal with three. I was going to have to give Steven another lecture concerning his poor choice of friends.

"If you mess with Hayden, you mess with us," I repeated in a mocking voice. "Guess what? My fist and I don't give a damn. Now, get your asses off my property and stay off it. For good."

Steven sighed as he turned to look at me. He was already stoned and too irresponsible to care about my friend being treated this way. The moron had stopped me from changing Hayden's facial description as payback for fighting with Mateo! I loved Steven to bits, but I wanted to roast him for siding with them.

"This is my property too, sis," he said. "And Masen and Blake are my friends, so they're not going anywhere."

I placed my hands on my hips. "You are not right in the head." I pointed at them. "They're barbarians!"

Blondie snorted again—Does he speak some snorting language only the pea-brains like him understand?—and my dislike for him grew from ten thousand to a gazillion.

"Says the rabid dog," Blondie said. "I've never seen a girl more aggressive and crazy than you—no offense, Steven." He smirked at my brother. "Are you sure she's your sister and not adopted?"

Steven—that idiot—actually sniggered. "Why do you think we don't own any guard dogs? My sister is more than capable of kicking ass."

Blondie didn't look impressed. In fact, he looked as though he couldn't be more repulsed by me.

"I bet she punches when she fucks, just for kicks. Or maybe it's her tic," he said. "Sex with handcuffs takes on a whole new meaning with her."

I winced. The world narrowed to him as my blood pressure soared, and the others stopped existing. My body was too small and tight for this fury as it swallowed all of me. I saw a vision of me landing countless punches on his face until it became a gory mess, and it was that addictive image that dragged me a step closer to him, my hands fisted and ready to bring it to life. Only that would calm this raging storm within me. Only that.

Steven placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me back, breaking through my bubble of rage.

"Self-control, remember?" he said out of the corner of his mouth so only I could hear him. "Chillax."

I gritted my teeth hard as I fought against the need for violence that burned so deep inside of me. Self-control. Right. That wasn't something I excelled at. My rage-induced high blood pressure and I were best buddies.

I took some deep breaths through my teeth and approached Blondie, hoping for his own good that he would heed my next warning. "Stay away from me. Or you and I are going to have a big problem."

Satisfied I had the last word, I turned to leave, but that jerk actually had the audacity to smirk and say, "Don't worry. I have no intention of wasting even a minute on someone as crazy or ugly as you. Good luck finding a boyfriend." He nudged his friend and turned around, dismissing me. "Let's get back inside and find some hot pieces of ass."

Steven caught my shoulder again before I could lunge at Blondie, knowing me too well. My fingers hurt from fisting my hands too hard, and the throbbing in the knuckles on my right hand increased as I watched Blondie and his brooding friend leave, but that was okay. Physical pain was ten times better than emotional pain. It lasted for only a short time. It hurt less. It could be forgotten.

Blondie better stay away from me. Or I'd show him exactly how crazy I could actually get.