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Authors: Sam Crescent

Scarred Beauty

BOOK: Scarred Beauty
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Evernight Publishing

 

www.evernightpublishing.com

 

 

 

Copyright© 2012 Sam Crescent

 

 

 
ISBN: 978-1-77130-094-0

 

Cover
Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

 

Editor:
Karyn White

 

 

 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

WARNING:
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal.
 
No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

 

This
is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

I want to dedicate this book to Evernight Publishing for
taking a chance on me. You're a wonderful publisher and I'm so happy to have
found a home for my work with you. 

 

 

SCARRED BEAUTY

 

Imperfection,
1

 

Sam Crescent

 

Copyright © 2012

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Isaac Welch watched as he fucked the nameless
woman in front of him. He’d been out all night partying, and he’d picked up
some random bird and was now screwing her brains out. His friend, Clark
Welland, had his cock inside her mouth while Isaac fucked her pussy.

The woman was a blonde, her name meaningless, as
she was just another woman looking to score a rich husband. He’d seen the cheap
design of her clothing and the way she responded to every man at the club,
which was known for the rich clientele. For as long as he could remember women
had been coming onto him in the hopes of stealing him away.

The rich husband, the beautiful trophy wife and
the lifestyle to go with it. Through the drunken haze Isaac felt himself begin
to lose his erection. He spent most of his time working or fucking a faceless
woman, and he was bored of it all. Bored of the same old dirty sex, the same
old arguments with the board.

Clark
held her hair as he slammed into her mouth. Not bothering to try to
regain his hard-on, Isaac pulled out of her body. She moaned in protest, but
his friend kept her busy. Isaac made his way to the bathroom and looked at his
reflection in the mirror.

At forty years old he’d maintained a great deal
of his youth. He had minimal lines around his eyes and mouth, and his hair was
still the same jet black it had been as a boy. The eyes were the only
difference. He saw the years of heartache and pain where once he’d been young,
filled with the promise of sweet fairy tales. Now he held the bitter reality of
what life was like. He knew what the real world had to offer. He knew the type
of people who filled his life, and he hated every single aspect of his own
life.

The sound of the woman’s screams reached him,
which could only mean
Clark
had finished her
off.

What had Isaac lost along the way? At forty
years old he should be in the prime of his life with a wife and some kids.
Instead, he ran a successful business, had several women he fucked on a regular
basis, and nothing else. He refused to speak to his family, even though it had
been over twenty years since he had last spoken to them. How could he speak to
the man who’d left his first wife and son for a gold-digging whore?

He fisted his hands at his sides as the old
anger rose to the surface. The pain and humiliation had been too much to bear.
Seeing his mother wilt under the scandal of being replaced still struck him
down. The man he’d become had begun that night his father, Thomas, had come
home and kicked his mother out. He’d told Isaac he was to stay, but he refused.
On that night he’d vowed to make his father pay. In twenty years he’d been the
creator of one of the most successful businesses in the world. Money was no
longer a problem. His mother, Tina, lived in luxury and never had to worry
about finding work. The life he led was perfect. Except something was missing.
He didn’t know what was missing, but he knew it was there.

The sound of the door being slammed interrupted
his thoughts. Seconds later
Clark
stood in the
doorway, naked and sweating. They’d long got over being naked in front of each
other.

“You missed a fine fuck. What happened?”
Clark
asked.

Isaac shrugged. He had no idea. Women were a
dime a dozen to him. He could have anyone at anytime.

“I think I’m sick of this shit. It doesn’t
matter what woman we have, by the end of the night she’ll be screaming as she
orgasms. I’m tired of it. They all want the same thing,” Isaac said.

“What is the problem with that? Every night we
can have a different woman. You’re over-thinking it. Wherever we go, there are
women falling over their feet to get in our beds.”

“And into our bank balance. Don’t forget most of
these want money and nothing else.”

“So? We’ve got the money to give them some, and
at least we still get free pussy at our ages.”

Closing his eyes as the dull throb of a migraine
began, Isaac tried to think past everything
Clark
was saying.

“I’ve got to go,” Isaac said. Opening his eyes,
he walked out of the bathroom, not bothering to look at his friend. He grabbed
his clothes putting them on as best as he could.

“Whatever. You’ll give me a call later to make
sure you got back safely. I don’t want your death on my conscience.”

Isaac agreed and left the penthouse apartment.
He took the elevator down to the underground parking facility. The parking area
was deserted. Isaac found his car, beeped the alarm and got inside. For several
moments he stared straight ahead not wanting to do anything. Taking a deep
breath he started the car, pulled out of the parking bay and left the building
completely. The drive helped to clear his head. He’d booked the time away as he
had an important dinner on Saturday. One of his half-brothers had phoned and
requested they talk and get to know each other. Bradley Welch, the oldest of
the gold-digger and Thomas’s marriage.

He parked the car at his own apartment building and
said good evening to the security guard before he made his way to the elevator
to take him up to his floor. Owning the whole building meant he could come and
go at will. Most of the other residents had a curfew to allow maximum
protection.

Minutes later he stood in his apartment looking
in his liquor cabinet for something to keep him company. Sleep would be hard to
come by with his thoughts running riot as they were.

Taking out the bottle of aged whisky, he opened
the bottle, poured a generous amount in the glass followed by a handful of ice.
He took a large gulp of the fiery liquid before moving through to his kitchen.
The fridge held a massive amount of food. Isaac took out some cheese and pickle
spread and buttered a couple of slices of bread, then spread the pickle over,
following it with the cheese.

Forty years old, and besides his business he had
nothing to show for his time. No family, just an endless supply of faceless
women with one use: to fuck.

He bit into his sandwich and took a swallow of
the strong drink. Many married men wanted his lifestyle, and yet he disliked
the way he’d turned out. Once he finished his sandwich, he poured himself
another whisky and went to bed.

Tomorrow he would have to face another aspect of
his life he didn’t enjoy.

****

“Brad, come and check my hair out,” Noelle said
as she brushed her hair. The hair dye had been a new purchase and a new colour.
Ultra Violet, or a deep red as she called it.

“What the fuck have you done now?” her best and
only friend and flat-mate asked as he walked into her room. He stopped, and
unlike most people who gave her a look of disgust, Brad stared at her face
without flinching. He was the only man to ever look at her with something other
than disgust or pity.

“What do you think?” She ruffled her hair with a
smile.

“Why have you changed your hair colour again?”

The smile dropped. “I wanted to.”

“I know you, Noelle. Why this time? Your hair is
naturally blonde and beautiful. I don’t know why you keep changing it.” Brad
folded his arms and glared at her.

She knew he would expect a long conversation,
but she refused to give him the satisfaction of talking about her low
self-esteem. He already knew the reason she changed her hair colour on a
regular basis.

Without thinking she touched the right side of
her face and winced. There was no pain, only the feel of the scarred flesh that
went from beneath her eye down her cheek and neck, the scars she’d gained from
a car accident over ten years ago. Brad reached out, took her hand and touched
the scarred side of her face.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he said. He held
her in his arms as she held the tears at bay. “One day you’re going to find a
man who loves you for who you are. Not the way you look.”

Noelle pulled out of his grip and turned away
from him. She stared at her bedroom and around at the plain walls. For ten
years she’d lived without looking in a mirror. The sight of her scars made her
hate her life and what had happened to cause them. She never spoke to her
family, as she couldn’t stop herself from blaming them for her ugliness.

BOOK: Scarred Beauty
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