The Gang Girl

Chapter 15- Scars

"Remind me to never piss you off. Or your gang." Ivan says dryly.

I grimaced slightly at his tone. The last part is kind of brutal but I guess if you can't stomach it, you shouldn't be in a gang.

Though, he is training to be a paramedic and doctor. So, obviously, he can stomach it.

"You want to know what else that phone called told me?" I say quietly, looking down at my blanket.

He sits up straighter and I take a deep breathe.

"Elijah is Haydn's little brother. I didn't realise until he started telling me bits and pieces of his life, but Alpha finalised it for me. And I'm scared of what's going to happen when he finds out I'm responsible for his big brothers death." I tell him, my voice cracking a little at the end.

He gets up from his spot in the beanbag corner and comes over to sit with me on the bed. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and I lean my head against his shoulder.

"Haydn's death, it wasn't your fault. You didn't make him stand behind you. None of you could have known that the other gang was going to be there and start a shoot out. It. Isn't. Your. Fault." He stresses the last part but I shake my head at him.

"Everyone tells me that, but I feel like it's true and nothing anybody says, or does, has or will ever make me think otherwise." I tell him quietly.

"It isn't your fault." He repeats.

Sick of hearing it, I shift out of his grasp and shift up onto my knees. I pull up my shirt, showing the bare flesh of my hips and turn so that he can see my right hip clearly.

"Nothing you, or anybody says, or do will ever make me change my mind." I snap, watching as his face pales as his eyes roam over the slashed scaring making its way down from the very top of my hip and down past the waistband of my jeans.

He reaches a hand out and runs it over the scars, the old and the new ones.

"These ones are new, Alexis. What happened, here, at home, that was bad enough for you to go back to this?" He whispers, tracing a finger over the new scars.

"Elijah. About a month ago. He was talking about Haydn, telling me how his family blames me for his death. I snapped. It was the first time since I was approached by the gang that I'd done it. Haydn stopped me from doing it, made me promise him I wouldn't keep doing it." I say quietly and he takes his hand away from my body.

I let go of my shirt and it drops down to once again cover my secret.

"He got you to stop cutting? How?" He breathes.

I shift so that I'm sitting in a more comfortable position.

"He took all my blades from me. Every single one of them. Told me that, if he had to, he would shave my legs for me. The threat of an embarrassment like that stopped me from doing it, but even then, whenever he got the chance, he showered or bathed with me, just to make sure I was keeping his promise and I hadn't taken to my skin with a blade again." A small smile forms on my lips at the memeory him grinning like an idiot when he walked into the bathroom carrying me, looking at me flustered before he unceremoniously dumped me in the bath, fully clothed. And then he climbed in straight after me, still fully clothed. Him gently kissing the scars, telling me that he loved me no matter how scared I was, no matter my moods, no matter how much I tried to push him away.

He loved me no matter what.

"Why'd you harm yourself?"

"I was being bullied at school. I missed home. Heck, it got really bad when I saved that family. My anxiety surrounding what might happen to me if the attacker came after me was really shit. The self harm seemed to be my only way of escaping the anxiety and pain of being bullied." I murmur, my hand automatically going back to my hip.

He nods his head, keeping eye contact with me, until I avert my eyes.

Woah. It was like he was looking into our soul.

For once, I can't disagree with my conscience.

Those eyes. Damn.

They see everything. Every little emotion, every flicker.

The eyes are the window to the soul.

Shut up Madusa.

She just chuckles at me.

"I should probably let you get some rest." Ivan mumbles, a faint red rising on his cheeks as he realises he's sitting in a woman's room at 10om.

I don't know why but I grab his wrist as he goes to get off of the bed.

"Can you stay with me? Please? I haven't slept without having nightmares since he got shot." I try to keep the desperation out of my voice, but let's be honest, I don't really succeed.

He nods his head at me and I release my grip on his arm.

"Go put your pj's on, and I'll go shower and change into mine. Give me half an hour." He looks almost afraid that I'll reject the idea and change my mind of letting him sleep in my room.

But I nod my head, not keen on the idea of sleeping alone after just revealing memories that could cause me to go over the edge again.

He looks relieved that I don't reject the idea and sure enough, half an hour later, he's back and sliding into bed with me, computer in hand.

"Lexi, I'm going to stay up a bit longer, read over some of the med notes on my computer, you sleep okay." He says softly and I nod my head at him.

He leans against the wall, a pillow sitting behind his lower back and fires up his computer while I roll onto my stomach and snuggle under the covers.

Subsequently, I end up very close to him and he just chuckles and puts his hand on my back and starts stroking my hair.

"Can you keep doing that, or do you need both hands to study?" I mumble tiredly.

"I only need one hand to study."

I just nod my head and let the movement of him running his fingers through my hair lull me to sleep.

For the first time in a year, I sleep without nightmares.