Scars By James Bay Novels & Stories

she asks, curiously. Scars nodded again, "The ones on my right," he says as he stares at her. She looks up to meet his eyes making Scar's heart beat out of his chest, "You're so talented!" she says with another smile. Scar had never had someone give him so much kindness, it made him want to cry but also want to hug her and tell her how much it meant to him. He was acting like a hormonal teenager and he hated it. "And you?" he asks, looking at her tattooed arms, "Where'd you get yours done?"

I slap a hand over my mouth as my stomach churns in protest, barely making it to the nearest door before I feel like I’m going to be sick. I shove it open without thinking— Only to freeze. Jasmine stands in front of a mirror, her back to me, mid-motion of removing her shirt. My mouth opens to apologise, but the words die in my throat. Because that’s when I see them. As the fabric slides down her shoulders, pale skin is revealed, marred with scars. Long, jagged, brutal. Some fresh and raw, others old and faded, crisscrossing over her back like she’d been torn apart and barely stitched back together. A web of pain carved into her flesh.

My parents look at each other quizzically but when I look at Alpha Eric I can see him searching his soul, if he has any. “I went through a dangerous forest where I was attacked by a beast, the origin of the scar on my face. Some people call me Scarface because of this. They may be doing so to scorn me, but the scar is a constant reminder that I fought and conquered adversity.” This is aimed at Bernice and Tiffany. Jim walks away from his place next to Drake and goes towards where Josephine is seated. I hope that she won't raise any drama. “I am most thankful to the family who rescued me from the jaws of the beast and took care of me.” I can see Benjamin acknowledging.

James struggled to stand, his legs shaky. He chuckled, “Didn’t expect you to be here.” My suspicion was confirmed; they were old enemies. Scar drew what appeared to be a dagger and lunged at James, but James was incredibly fast, darting out of the cottage in the blink of an eye. Not even my men could catch him; it was as if he had never been there. Scar pursued him, leaving me to focus on Amber. I lifted her into my arms and gently placed her in the car. Once she was settled inside, I examined her injuries. My teeth were clenched when I saw the nail marks on her wrists.

he responds. “I have been thinking about getting a tattoo…” James’s eyes widen in surprise, and I can see he never pegged me as someone who would like ink. “But I have some scars and I don’t know if you can tattoo over them.” “I guess it depends on the scars,” James says, and I can tell he wants to ask me more. I take a breath and walk across to him, pulling up the sleeves of my top as I approach. I hold out my wrists, and you can easily see where I cut myself, the line running up my arms instead of across. The scars are no longer the livid red weals that drew looks of horror but instead have faded to a rosy pink. I know it will be years before they fade properly, but for now, I would like s

“Not just good – amazing.” “One hundred percent amazing,” Jo said solemnly. “Thought so.” Scars held out a huge hand and she took it, felt the raised skin there. Without even looking, Jo knew that he had more scars on his hands and briefly wondered what he must look like under his jeans and blue t-shirt and cut: she’d heard from Jinx that the fire had burned Scars so badly, he’d needed reconstructive skin grafting on his back and legs. “It’s a pleasure, Jo.”

The Adversary Dark Prince (POV) When people notice the jagged scar on my arm, their eyes often widen with worry, and they jump to conclusions that are far from the truth. It's a common reaction, especially in a world where scars usually hint at pain or violence. But this scar tells a different story—it's not a sign of suffering; it's a symbol of something beautiful and meaningful in my life. Each curve and line of the scar represents resilience and a deep bond that has lasted through challenges, showing that not all scars are reminders of hurt. Instead, it reminds me of love and the strength I've gained along my journey.

My daughter, Amelia Rossum, comes home with her palm pierced all the way through by a pencil. I drop my mop in a panic, hastily change out of my loungewear, and rush her to the ER. At the hospital entrance, my husband, Benedict Rossum, jumps out of his car and immediately lashes out at me. "How could you let this happen to her?" Our neighbor, Lorelei Bates, trails behind him, holding her daughter's hand. She addresses him gently, "Benedict, don't be so hard on Clarissa. Everyone makes mistakes." He scoffs. "Other mothers can keep their kids safe perfectly fine. What's her excuse? I bet she did this on purpose to guilt me into coming home early!" Amelia recoils and hides behind me. Seei

Once his jeans and underwear were off, I started to get on top of him, but he turned us over, “It’s my turn. I want to open my present.” He unlaced my negligee and slowly pushed the spaghetti straps down, off my shoulders, to expose my breasts. He lowered the negligee until I could kick it off, then he stood on his knees and hissed as he looked down at me laying and looking at him, “Damn, I can’t believe you are mine. You’re perfect.” I asked, “You don’t mind the scars?” He shook his head, “The scars are not who you are. They are just part of your story. I love every part of you. Especially your story because I get to be a part of it.”

Michele's voice pulled me back to reality. "If she hadn't left all those years ago, the woman at my side would be a gambler. How could it be an angel like you? Tomorrow is our 99th day together, and I'm putting the most profitable strip club in Vallasia under your name." Michele looked at Barbara with complete indulgence and pinched her cheek playfully. Barbara laughed softly and leaned in to kiss him. A sudden, stabbing pain tore through my side, forcing a sharp gasp from me. It was the scar I had carried for five years, left behind when I sold a kidney just to stay alive after I failed to repay my loan.