Protect Me From Myself

Book 7 - Scarred - Chapter one

Welcome to book 7, Callie and Hudson's story! There will be trigger warnings in this one, and I will post where necessary. You might not agree with some things in this book regarding the main characters, but remember when I reached this book, I had just turned 16. I knew nothing about real life relationships as I had never had one. My writing these stories came from what I saw happening around me. So, please be kind. Thank you in advance!

Callie

I used to love it here.

I used to feel safe here.

I can learn to love it here again.

I can learn to feel safe again.

Those are the things I tell myself every day.

I used to love it here.

I used to feel safe here.

I can learn to love it here again.

I can learn to feel safe again.

I have lived in this little town my whole life. I used to love it here. Everybody knows everybody, which can be a little annoying because that means everybody knows your business. It's not easy keeping things personal in a town like Oak Springs. But it's a fantastic little town with very little real crime. We have tourists sometimes, and they help keep the town alive. But the place isn't a tourist resort.

I own my own bakery/deli/coffee shop here. When tourists are in town, I make a mint. My home-baked goods, subs, sandwiches, and coffee go down a treat. My grandmother always said I was gifted in the area of food.

I used to be popular, the girl everybody wanted to be like. Why, I don't know. I was never anything special. I'm the middle child of Keller and Sydney Harper. My father is the town sheriff, and my mother is the high school principal. I have two older brothers, Kory and Greg. Both are criminal lawyers. My brothers own a law firm together and are very successful. I'm proud of them both.

I also have two younger sisters, Lora and Della, who are my best friends and work with me at the bakery between their other jobs. Lora is a part-time preschool teacher, and Della is a part-time 911 operative. I have more friends than I know what to do with, but only a handful I can bear to be around these days, and two of them are my sisters.

Most of my friends find it hard to even look at me, which doesn't make them true friends. Not that people can see anything when they look at me, I make sure to keep covered with my prosthetic mask.

It's been a year. You'd think I would have moved on from what happened. Everyone believes I have. I never knew I was such a good actress. I paint on the smile, crack the jokes, and drink like a trooper. That's the girl I was before it happened. The girl I have to make sure everyone sees. If they know she's really gone, if they know how I truly struggle, I'll lose myself to the past.

I can't do that; I have to be strong.

Isn't that what women are best at?

It would be so easy for me to lose myself, but why should I let what happened define who I am now? Even though I guess that's precisely what happened.

I've taught myself to push past anything that scares me, anything that might threaten my sanity again. I've been there, done that, and I will never go there again. I do it well- or so I tell myself. No one seems to notice anything different.

“You're so strong, Callie. We're all so proud of you.” I heard that a lot after it happened. The attack that changed my life drastically.

Of course, everyone found out. It's not like you can keep anything secret in this town. From what I was told, the whole town was outside the bakery while it was happening.

People were understanding or as much as they could have been. But the constant “Are you okay?” can drive a girl crazy. Even now, people ask me that. Most are concerned; most are just being nosy and want to see if I'll open up to them. Like that's ever going to happen.

I can't bear to hear the, “You're a hero, Callie. You should be proud of what you did.” That's what they tell me, but I don't see myself as that. I did what anyone else would have done in that situation. I have always put others before myself. That's just the kind of person I am.

When I was a little girl, the only thing I ever wanted was to own my own business and get married to Tommy Palmer. I was three. He married my sister six months ago. The thought often makes me laugh. He and I were never anything other than friends, but the idea of being three and sharing our future dreams could be deemed adorable. Or at least by his mother.

When I was four, I realized Tommy had nothing on Hudson Ryker. I think I fell in love with him the moment he spoke to me at preschool. Even then, he was my hero.

Why did he have to break my heart?

I could have done with staying home tonight; I've been working all day, and my weekdays start at 5 a.m. I may own a bakery, but like I said, it's also a deli, coffee shop, and cafe. It wasn't planned that way, but that's what it became over time.

My sister, Della, the youngest sibling at twenty-three, is an excellent baker. I never used to get to work by 5 a.m., she used to. Since what happened a year ago, I have insomnia, so 5 a.m. it is, which gives Della time to lie in with her future husband.

My other sister, Lora, is twenty-four years old and makes the best sandwiches on this side of the Atlantic! And no, that is not an exaggeration. When you add her ability to make the best coffee around, my little shop has a five-star rating.

Thank you, girls.

Of course, I decorate the wedding cakes Della makes, which she is freaking fabulous at. I never understood how she could make such amazing cakes but could never get the knack of decorating them as she envisioned. I have an apt for drawing. She tells me what she wants, and I draw it out. She agrees, and I decorate.

Her cakes have started to take off big time. We're making them and shipping them to brides nationwide. Della even flies out to high-paying customers to show them the designs I come up with and give them taster samples. She says it helps the client to meet her and know what they'd be getting should they buy from us. I agree.

I'm afraid I must disagree when she tries to get me to go in her stead, though. I can't travel alone anymore. My paranoia takes over me even when I think about it, which, of course, leads me to a massive panic attack. Such is my life now.

Della will be off to California tomorrow, so we've all come to Emilee's for a drink. Not that Emilee can drink; she's about ready to pop with her second child. I love Emilee. We met when she was seven months pregnant with her son, Aidan, who's now three. He's a beautiful boy, my godson, and the image of his daddy, Chase. Chase is quite a bit older than Emilee, but I've never known a couple so in love and solid before. Maybe my parents.

Emilee and I have been through some tough times, including last year's attack. She still blames herself, but I don't blame her; I never have and never will.

Mia is also here. Mia is married to Jesse, Chase's best friend. Mia and Jesse moved here a little over a year ago. Mia and Jesse have two children: one-year-old twins, a little girl, Brooke, and a son, Jesse Junior, or Jay Jay, as we all call him. Jesse also has a son from his first marriage, Caleb, who is almost eight and a gorgeous little boy. He even calls me Auntie Callie when he's here. He also calls Mia “Mom.”

I don't know how their family works, but Jesse and Mia have a solid relationship with Caleb's mother and stepfather. It's nice to know they are mature enough to give that boy a happy family.

Of course, Lora and Della are here, along with Aimee, Lora's best friend, and Paige, Della's best friend. We're all best friends, even if Mia and I are the oldest. I couldn't cope with more people than the six of them, unlike the girl who used to love to be the center of attention at huge parties.

“I have something to tell you all.” Lora married Tommy Palmer, my three-year-old self's crush. I think they'd been in love since school. All I ever wanted was for my sisters to be happy. Tommy makes her happy. He loves Lora so much that he would do anything for her. That's the way it should be.

“Well, tell us.” Della laughs. Della is engaged to a police officer- one who works with my father. Freddy Estella is twenty-eight years old, and the best friend of my ex's big brother, Enzo. He's also Paige's stepbrother. And Paige is in love with Enzo. She denies it, but she can't fool me any more than she can fool herself.

Freddy has been dating Della since she was nineteen. My father couldn't have been happier; Freddy is like a son to him. Hell, he's like a big brother to all of us. Secretly, Freddy is my hero, the reason I'm alive right now. One day, he'll let me thank him for what he did, but right now, he waves me away each time I try. I think it makes him a little emotional.

I know what Freddy did solidified his place within my family. My parents love him, my sisters, and my brothers. Christ, the whole town loves him.

My eldest brother, Kory, is thirty; he's not married and says he doesn't have time for that. That's man code for, 'I'm a man-whor.e'

Greg is twenty-eight and has recently married. Greg hasn't known Maya long, but she seems nice enough.

Me, on the other hand? I'm still single. I was in a relationship for a while before what happened with Doctor dickhead. I wasn't in love with John; we'd only been together for two months. And if I'm honest, it wasn't serious, but I thought he cared about me.

After what happened, and he realized I wasn't what he perceived as perfect any longer, John walked away from me before I'd even been in the hospital for a couple hours. He didn't want to be stuck with a woman who woke up each night screaming, a woman scarred by what happened to her. Not that any of that was my fault.

My brothers were more than just angry. Kory wanted to kill John. What would have been the point? He didn't want me because of what happened. So what? It was no big deal; I was just glad to see him go. I told everyone I was okay with it, that we weren't meant to be.

Everyone knew he'd left because he saw me differently. His departure may not have bothered me, but it ruined my faith in relationships with men. If he couldn't bear to be with me because of how I looked, how could I expect any other man to want me?

I'd rather be alone. Being alone means you don't have to see the disappointment in a man's eyes when they look at your body. Not that any man has seen my body other than the doctors who fixed me up.

But it's hard enough having visible scars on my face without anyone seeing the rest of them. Not that people see the scars on my face; like I said, I wear a prosthetic mask to cover that side of my face. I find it easier than having everyone stare at me with pitiful eyes. Which people used to do when I first came home before I got the mask.

The rumors and whispers were too much for me, and I became a recluse until my plastic surgeon recommended the mask. He couldn't fix my face because the scars were too new and too deep. He told me I would have to wait until they'd healed. It won't be long before he can operate and hopefully fix the mess on the left side of my face.

“Tommy and I are having a baby!” Lora yelps in excitement.

“Oh, Lor,” I grab her and hug her.

I wondered why she refused a glass of wine. I also wonder if she's been worried about telling me. No one should worry about telling me they're going to become a mother. Bringing new life into this world is incredible.

“I'm so happy for you.”

My beautiful sister is pulled around everyone and congratulated again and again. They deserve this. It's all Lora has talked about since she and Tommy got together in school.

I guess, in reality, having Tommy's baby is all Lora has wanted since she was eight years old. It's not like she didn't repeatedly tell us how she'd one day be his wife and the mother of his children. We all laughed, of course, but we should have foreseen it. When Lora sets her mind to something, she won't stop until she gets it.

My friends are all becoming mothers. I know it won't be long before Della falls pregnant. She's spoken of nothing else since she was a little girl- a lot like Lora. My mother's ideas of being a wife rubbed off on my sisters at a very early age: get married and have children.

Simple, right?

Not at all!

Mom's ideas might have rubbed off on my sisters but not so much on my brothers and me. That might have something to do with the secret we hide. A family secret that we never speak about. It's easier for Lora and Della; they don't remember the way my brothers and I do.

My mother always told us that you find the right one, get married, and have children. But even with children, a woman doesn't have to stop working. A woman can do it all. I loved that about her. She made sure we knew we didn't have to give up our independence once we were married, no matter what our other half said.

Looking back, though, my mother was a little contradictory in some ways. But I don't think about it much. What's the point? It's just who she was.

“You okay?” I nod at Emilee without looking at her. She followed me into the kitchen. I know what's coming next; it's the same thing every time we get together. I don't think she's as over what happened as she makes out. She shouldn't be thinking about it in her condition. She's literally got days to go before the birth. “Cal, I...”

“Em,” I place the wine glasses in the sink and turn towards her. “It's been over a year. You have to stop apologizing. What happened wasn't your fault.”

“It was my fault. I wish I could...”

“Seriously,” I smile and cup her face in my hands. Emilee became my best friend from the moment I met her. Yes, she's two years younger than me, but she needed a friend when she arrived in town. I provided that friendship, a job, and a place to live. She'd left her husband and didn't want to talk about it.

She confided in me eventually what had happened to her after she left Chase. I found it all to be so horrific. Who would do such things to a pregnant woman? Not Chase, he'd never hurt her, but the man I saved her from not once, but twice.

“I know you keep telling me it's okay, but I don't understand how you don't hate me.” Tears form in her eyes. “You protected me, and you...”

“Stop it, Em. Please. I don't hate you; I love you. You're my best friend. If I had to do again what I did back then, then, believe me, I would. I don't regret it. I never will. You need to forgive yourself. I want you to. Let it go and move on. You're about to give birth.” I smile while placing my hand on her swollen stomach. “You have a wonderful husband and a beautiful little boy, and they both adore you, Emilee. And this little one will adore you just as much. Please don't keep torturing yourself.”

“Oh,” The word came out as a sob. She pulls me into her tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I wink.