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Authors: Twyla Turner

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BOOK: Scarred (Damaged Souls)
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“Oh please do! I may need another point of view.”
Lexi offered.

“Will do. Alright, I’m going to head out and give you some alone time with your new place. It was lovely to finally meet you in person
Lexi. I hope everything works out for you here.” Dom said shaking her hand.

“Thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you too.”
Lexi smiled at the stunning woman, before she turned to leave the master bedroom.

Lexi
heard the front door close and with a shaky hand she reached for the iron bed post to steady her as she sat on the relatively clean, but squeaky mattress. Her eyes filled with tears and a sob escaped her throat. Once the dam broke there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her body shook, wracked with sobs as she let go.
God, thank you. Thank you, Auntie. Thank you, Mom.

Lexi
knew that she wouldn’t be there if she hadn’t had a little help along the way, and she couldn’t have been more grateful.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Lexi woke from an apparently much needed nap. She realized that she must have cried herself to sleep. Judging by the slant of the sun streaming in through the windows, she hadn’t slept for too long. She knew that she needed to get up and go shopping for some food for the house and unload her luggage and few boxes that were in her car before it got too late.

Grabbing her purse that she
had dropped on the floor, Lexi headed downstairs to the kitchen. She looked through the cabinets and in the fridge to get an idea of what she wanted to get and how much room she had to store it.

She pulled her phone out of her purse and entered a list of everything that she needed, as well as some
toiletries and cleaning supplies to make the house a little more livable in the meantime while she waited for it to be totally renovated. Satisfied that she had everything she needed on her list, Lexi grabbed her keys to head into town.

 

 

Ch
apter 2

“To Whom It May Concern

 

 

 

 

Sloan was sitting in his favorite spot
when he first laid eyes on her. He was at the park in the center of town, in the grass against a tree with Tank panting by his side from the heat. Sloan loved to sit and people watch. He watched the people in town interacting and going about their daily lives like they didn’t have a care in the world. Their normal lives fascinated him. It was what he had fought for, but that fight had changed him. So ‘normal’ was now foreign to him.

So when Tank started to whine and wag his tail
looking off into the distance, bringing Sloan’s attention to the pretty short plump woman, Sloan sat up a little straighter. And it wasn’t just that she was an adorable tiny little thing that had dangerous curves she tried to contain in a long skirt and billowy blouse, that made Sloan sit up and pay attention.

It was her eyes
. They were sad, scared and wounded but hopeful all at the same time. Similar to what he saw whenever he looked at his reflection. She seemed to be scared of her own shadow, occasionally looking over her shoulder like the Boogie-man was going to jump out and get her at any moment. He saw the hope and yearning in her eyes as well, when she looked at the two friends that were chitchatting at an open patio café or the couple that passed by holding hands.

As much as he instantly wanted her, Sloan sagged back down in disappointment. Before the war
he would’ve sauntered up to her and charmed her right out of her panties, but not now. He knew that in his current state and situation that he was no prize and she’d look at him in disgust if he even tried to approach her.

But fate seemed to step in and took the choice
right out of his hands. As she walked to her car with arms full of groceries, one of the paper bags she tried to balance teetered precariously and then toppled over to the ground. And being a Southern raised gentleman, good manners drilled into him since birth, Sloan automatically jumped up and ran over to help her, Tank trotting along beside him.

“Here, let me help you.” Sloan said
his deep voice tinged with a light southern drawl, as he kneeled down in front of her.

She ra
ised her eyes to his and his heart tripped over itself. From a distance, though he had mostly focused on her eyes and the emotions that radiated through them, he hadn’t realized just how beautiful they were. They were a mesmerizing shade of green that seemed to glow in contrast to her burnished bronzed skin. He was instantly enthralled.

“Thank you.” She said softly,
breaking eye contact and flinching slightly when his hand brushed hers as he picked up a container of yogurt.

Sloan’s heart sank, thinking that she was dis
gusted by his appearance, sometimes forgetting he wasn’t his former self, the handsome clean-cut man he used to be.

Finished helping her with the spilled bag, Sloan stood up
starting to back away, but Tank had other plans. He nudged her legs with his head and whined. Sloan was shocked by his dog’s reaction to the woman. Tank being a highly trained military dog was usually more reserved and well-behaved, watching everything intently for a threat.

The woman finally smiled and a laugh escaped her throat as she bent over to scratch Tank on the head, and he wagged his tail in appreciation.

“Um…he’s sweet. And thank you for helping me.” She said and then straightened up, still not making eye contact.

Sloan took that as his cue to leave. Whistling to Tank, the dog’s training finally kicked in a
nd he walked back over to Sloan. And with one last look at the beautiful and seemingly broken woman, he walked away.

 

 

~~~

 

 

On the drive back home Lexi couldn’t get the crystal like bluish-gray eyes of the homeless man out of her head. When he had looked at her it was like he recognized her for who she was, like he knew her story.

Even after two years, men still scared the hell out of
Lexi. She felt bad for hurting the homeless man’s feelings, because she thought it was really sweet that he had helped her. She knew she had hurt his feelings, because the moment she flinched she had quickly glanced at him and saw the pain written all over his face. She hoped he didn’t think that she recoiled at the slight touch because he was homeless.
If only he knew. After years of abuse by my father and then Eric and all the bastards in between, I’d flinch at any man touching me.

Lexi
couldn’t tell how old the man was. He didn’t seem particularly old, but it was hard to say considering the thick shaggy beard and long dark hair that hung in his face. And the scar that ran down the left side of his face and disappeared into his beard, probably made him look even more menacing to people passing by. Not to mention his huge intimidating black dog. If she had of been looking up when they came up to her, she probably would’ve had a coronary.

But despite her fear of men and his somewhat frightening looks,
Lexi still couldn’t get him out of her head as she pulled into her driveway. Both he and his dog seemed harmless underneath their scary exterior. And she hoped to see them again so that she could repay him the kindness he had bestowed upon her without asking for anything in return.

Getting out of the car
Lexi carried her bags into the house with better success this time around. She put away her dry food in the cupboard and some of the fresh stuff into the fridge. She lined up the cleaning supplies on the counter, preparing for a big day of cleaning tomorrow. And last she pulled out the cheap silverware and steak knives she had purchased for the time being.

Without
realizing it she had one of the knives gripped in her hand. It was something that she hadn’t done in months, but like any bad habit or addiction Lexi had to fight the urge to ‘cut’ often. Something about slicing into the soft skin of her thighs, being in control of her pain instead of someone else, called to her. But no one was causing her pain now. She was in control of her life. So with a shaky hand she released the knife and let it clatter to the countertop.
I have enough scars…inside and out. I don’t need anymore.

And with a deep
calming breath Lexi started on dinner. Piercing blue-gray eyes haunted her the rest of the night.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Lexi woke up bright and early, ready to get an early start on cleaning the house. She started upstairs in the bedrooms and bathroom first. She dusted and swept and cleaned the windows. In the bathroom, she got down on hands and knees and scrubbed the tiles and grout on the floor. She knew that all of tiles would eventually be pulled up, but in the meantime she sure as hell wasn’t going to put her bare feet on that filth after a bath.

Pulling aside the shower curtain hanging from an oval shaped rod
above the tub, Lexi cleaned the claw-footed tub and the exposed copper pipe and large round shower head, her favorite item in the whole house. Finishing up in the bathroom she grabbed her phone and headed downstairs.

Pulling up an internet radio station, for the first time in years
Lexi started to sing and dance while she cleaned. Afraid of being criticized by her father or past boyfriends, she never felt that she could let go and be silly or just have fun. So she reveled in the freedom of being by herself for the first time in her life and she truly did ‘dance as if no one was watching and sang as if no one was listening’.

Lexi
worked up a decent sweat while dancing and cleaning, and was surprised by how quickly she finished. She went back upstairs to take a quick shower, wanting to head back into town. An idea had been needling in the back of her mind since she had gotten into the house yesterday and wouldn’t get out of her head.

After the tragedy of her parents
’ death and her aunt had taken her in, Betty had gently coaxed Lexi into going to therapy, knowing that the gruesome murder-suicide that happened before her eyes would damage her psyche if she didn’t get some help. Especially after her aunt realized that Lexi was cutting. And in their talks the doctor unearthed Lexi’s artistic side, and had suggested a therapeutic activity that changed her life.

Painting had become her passion, the best way to get out all her emotions. She took art classes in high school and quite a few after school classes in town. But when she started dating a string of worthless abusive men after graduating high school and then Eric,
Lexi had stopped painting and started cutting again. And now that enough time had passed, she felt that she was ready to start painting again and maybe it would help the urges she had to cut.

So she decided to go into town to buy some painting supplies, ready to focus on healing her damaged and bruised soul.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

“Butterflies

 

 

 

 

Sloan usually avoided the park on Saturdays because of the huge farmer’s market that was
held there every weekend, that drew large crowds. The locals didn’t particularly like a scary bum with his equally scary looking dog hanging around when they were shopping with their kids. But Sloan found himself there anyway, trying to tell himself that he wasn’t there to catch a glimpse of her again, as he sat against his favorite tree out of the way of the hustle and bustle of shoppers. But he knew that was exactly why he was there.

And he wasn’t disappointed. He caught a flash of the blue classic convertible and his heart started to pound at the thought of being able to see her again.
A little while later she came into his line of sight carrying a reusable bag filled with what looked like fruits and veggies. Tank whined beside him, seeing her too.

“You like her too, don’t you buddy?” Sloan said, rubbing Tank between his ears as he whined some more in response.

Sloan’s eyes followed her as she made her way around to all the different stands. The end of the market near where he sat was designated for the arts and crafts tents, lined with locals that made and sold their own jewelry, clothes and decorations for your home. And she stopped at each tent, checking out their wares.

Today she was dressed in a white peasant dress
that came to her knees, with a bright colorful scarf of vibrant blue, green, yellow, orange and fuchsia tied around her waist. Her curly afro was pulled back in a ponytail, giant silver hoops adorned her ears and she had on comfy blue flip-flops. Sloan liked her style. It was very natural and comfortable, but feminine.

He noticed that s
he didn’t smile much, not that she looked grumpy to Sloan, just that it wasn’t something she was accustomed to doing. But every now and again when she saw something that she liked, her eyes would light up and the corner of her full Cupid’s bow shaped lips would lift.

Something about her made him want to know what happened to her. To know, what was the reason behind her sad guarded eyes and sm
all smiles. She had secrets and he wanted to know every one of them. But being a person that didn’t like to open up to people himself, he knew that those eyes were guarded for a reason and the likelihood of him finding out why was slim to none.
Hell, I’d have to get close enough to her first.
And he figured that was doubtful.

And as if she had read his mind, she looked up, like she felt someone staring at her, which he was, and her eyes connected with his. That same small croo
ked smile pulled at her lips and she started to walk in his direction. As soon as Tank saw her heading towards them, he bolted over to greet her.

“Tank!” Sloan shouted out at the dog, but he ignored him in his excitement
to see the pretty woman.
I know the feeling buddy.

Sloan watched as she bent do
wn to scratch Tank’s head and the dog found the perfect opening to lick her face. She pulled back laughing, a big smile finally gracing her lips. Her cheeks were big and rosy and her face transformed from being just pretty to stunning in a matter of seconds. It was like her face was meant for smiling and laughter, but her circumstances had taken that away from her.

Sloan sat quietly as she continued to walk towards him, Tank nudging, sniffing and bark
ing at her bag as she walked. Once she was a couple of feet in front of him, she stopped, still keeping a little distance between them. Sloan whistled and Tank sat obediently, but still didn’t leave her side, his tail wagging rapidly.

“Hello.” Sl
oan said, the single word coming out somewhat roughly. “He’s normally a well-behaved dog, but somehow you seem to bring out the puppy in him.” Sloan said after clearing his throat.

“It’s okay. I think he knows that I brought him something.” She said, still not making eye contact as she rifled through her bag of fresh produce. “I bought him a treat at the organic pet food tent hoping that I’d see you both again. To say thank you. That is…if you don’t mind.” She said pulling out a big rawhide bone, and Tank barked hopefully.

“Sure. You’ll have a friend for life now. I hope you’re ready for that kind of love and devotion.” Sloan grinned as she presented the bone to the big dog. Tank licked her hand as a ‘thank you’ before taking the bone and headed to a shady tree to start working on it.

“I…I wanted to give you something too.” She said as she went into her purse.

Pulling out a twenty dollar bill, she held it out to Sloan. Sloan made no move to take it and just looked up at her curiously.

“Why would I need that?” Sloan said, somewhat embarrassed to be given money by her.

“I…I…just wanted to say thank you for helping me yesterday, when you didn’t have to. I’m not trying to insult you. Maybe you could get yourself something to eat or shoes or something. If…if you need it.” She said stumbling over her words, looking at his tattered clothing and worn boots.

“I’m fine.” Sloan said shortly, and then his stomach decided to take that moment to grumble loudly in protest, contradicting his previous statement.

“Well, I want you to have it.” She said stepping just a little closer and dropping the money next to him.

As soon as the bill touched the grass next to him, she took off in the other direction
, leaving him no choice but to accept the money. Tank’s head came up from chewing on the bone and he whined at her retreating back and then barked angrily at Sloan, as if he was reprimanding him for chasing his new best friend away.


Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m a dick. Just keep eating your bone.” Sloan said looking over at his only friend. Tank just growled in response and went back to gnawing on his gift.

Way to go Sloan. She actually takes the time to approach you and you run her off.
Sloan smacked the tree with the back of his head and sighed in frustration.
Maybe next time.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Lexi high-tailed it back to her car to put the fresh food she’d bought at the market in the trunk, so she could have extra hands for the purchases she was going to make at the hobby shop one of the vendors told her about. As she walked in the direction of the store, she was plagued with guilt over embarrassing the homeless man.
It wasn’t my intention to make him feel bad about himself…again! First I flinch at his touch and now I just made him feel like he needs handouts. Way to go Alexis.

When she had first drove into town and saw the farmer’s market, she couldn’t have been happier.
She had never been to one before, so finding a store that carried painting supplies had been put on hold for a moment. And as soon as she had seen the organic pet care tent, she had instantly thought of the big black dog and bought a bone for him in the hopes of seeing them again. It hadn’t occurred to her at the time that giving the man money would insult him.

Well the damage is already done. There’s nothing I can do about it now,
Lexi thought to herself as she found the hobby shop and walked inside. Heading straight to the painting aisle, Lexi soon forgot about the incident with the man. She was instantly immersed in a plethora of watercolors, oil and acrylic based paint, brushes of all sizes, charcoal pencils, different sized canvases and plain or fancy easels.

Lexi
spent an hour picking nearly one of everything. The last thing she chose was a pretty reddish wood easel with a nice drawer that had a slightly downward slant that was used to hold the paint while she painted and to later store all her paint and brushes when she wasn’t.

When she was done buying all of her goodies
the clerk called one of the stock boys to help Lexi to her car with all of her bags and the easel that folded down to make it more portable. As they made their way to her car that was parked down the street, Lexi felt eyes on her like she did earlier.

Looking up, she saw the homeless man and his dog watching her from across the street. He nodded his head to her in acknowledgement and she nodded back. Apparently crisis averted.

Lexi was surprised by how little she was bothered by the fact that he had been watching her. Any other time she’d be freaking out, but something about the taciturn man was different. Instead of feeling like he was some kind of stalker, she felt he was more like a guardian angel. A dark angel, but angel nonetheless.

As
Lexi and the stock boy loaded up her car, she wondered what put him in the situation he was currently in.
Does he have family? Did he get laid off from a job? Was he an addict and he lost everything?

She knew that was information that she’d probably never know. It wasn’t like she was in the habit of sharing her tragic story, so she couldn’t expect for a stranger to spill his. The thoughts of the lone man and his dog had her mind filled with inspiration as she drove home and she couldn’t wait to get there to start
sketching and painting.

 

 

~~~

 

 

Lexi woke up early Sunday morning after a restless night of tossing and turning, her dreams plagued by haunting silvery blue eyes. Once she had gotten home from her day of shopping the day before, she made herself a late lunch and ate it quickly, in a hurry to start her first painting in years.

She had felt that the perfect place to setup her new easel was out on the back porch, overlooking the currently untended backyard and river. She had pulled out a fresh pre-stretched canvas, setup and organized all her paint colors and brushes.

Once she was ready, she had started on the initial sketch for the painting that she wanted to do. Immersing herself in every detail time got away from her and she lost the light of the sun. And with no working lights on the porch, she’d had to postpone the actual painting for today.

Hands covered in charcoal,
Lexi had washed her hands and face that had also been smudged with coal and then went to bed. After dreaming of him and his dog all night, she was ready to start painting. So after getting up and brushing her teeth and rinsing her face, Lexi put on an old faded pair of comfy wild colored palazzo pants and a black tank top and headed downstairs to start painting.

A couple hours later,
Lexi was solidly into her painting when she heard a knock on the door. Putting down her paint brush she wiped her hands on a rag she had found and walked to the door, wondering who would even be coming to visit her since she barely knew anyone in town.

Always cautious, she looked out one of the front windows to see Dom standing out front.
Lexi quickly opened the door to the realtor with arms full of magazines and both hands awkwardly holding two disposable coffee cups. And from what Lexi could see of Dom behind the stack of magazines, she as always was dressed to the nines, in a white high-waisted circle skirt with a blue, green and fuchsia painted on plaid pattern. A thin green patent-leather belt adorned the waist of the skirt, a silk fuchsia sleeveless blouse with strappy sandals that matched the blouse, brought the Sunday brunch ensemble together.

“Uh…hi, Dom.”
Lexi said in confusion, not sure why the realtor was there, feeling as if she should have prepared some mint julep cocktails and dressed in her Sunday best.

“Mornin’
Lexi. I figured that you probably didn’t have internet service yet, so I thought I’d stop by and bring you these home décor magazines to help you get an idea of what you’re looking for before you talk with the renovators.” Dom explained her morning visit.

“Oh. Well, thanks. That’s really nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.”
Lexi said in surprise.

“Oh, it’s nothing. And I thought you might like a second opinion, so I brought us some iced lattes
while we talk about your ideas for the house.” Dom offered.

“Really? That would be great, since I don’t know a whole lot about renovations or design. And it would be nice to know a little something or at least have an idea of what I want before I meet with the contractors.”
Lexi admitted.

“Well then, my idea was perfect.” Dom smiled at the petite woman.

“Here let me take something, you look a little weighed down.” Lexi offered and Dom held out the coffee cups for her to take.

“Where would you like to sit? In the dining room or living room?” Dom asked.

“Let’s go out to the back porch. It’s a little stifling in here. As you know the last people that lived here left an old folding card table and chairs out back, so we can sit out there.” Lexi suggested.

“Perfect. So…why are you covered in paint? Have you already started painting?” Dom asked curiously.

“Yes, but not the painting you’re thinking. Here I’ll show you.” Lexi said, leading the way to the porch.

Dom followed, reevaluating her first impression of the reserved woman. She was shocked by th
e curves Lexi had hidden beneath the bohemian skirt and loose fitting blouse she had worn on Friday. The clothes she had worn the other day made her look plumper and rounder than she really was. The swinging palazzo pants gripped her full thighs wide hips and substantial round backside like a second skin up top. And the tank top accentuated her fairly small waist, but barely contained her ridiculously large breasts.
The men of Savannah are going to go ape shit over this girl!

BOOK: Scarred (Damaged Souls)
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