The taste of forbidden

9. Scars. [Part 1]

9. Scars.

Lia.

I lost my home when I lost Lucas.

My house no longer felt like home.

My parents' place or my brother's house, even less.

No place did.

Every night, as I slept in a bed that never felt like mine, because his presence was missing by my side, I wondered if that feeling would be eternal. If it would ever stop. If I could at least call a place mine again—truly mine, from the heart.

Living on the Callahan ranch has been a challenge, one I never thought I'd adapt to.

And yet…

The mattress on the floor is mine. And not just because I paid for it. I fought for it. I literally dragged it through dirt and filth, clinging to it with tooth and nail. Also, the small and rickety cabin feels more like home than any house has in the past two years. Even the chair Becket broke and I fixed with nails—it’s mine. I repaired it when it broke, poorly, but still—it’s mine.

So I can’t give any of this up, I just can’t.

This place is becoming a life force I didn’t know I needed. I’ve grown used to waking up to the sound of animals, walking to the lake in serene stillness, working with the horses nearby, and doing everything at my own pace. I’ve also adapted to the wary, sometimes kind looks from a few of the workers.

So, even if Becket Callahan wants me to give this land back, I won’t.

Whenever I think we might have a small ceasefire, he reminds me what an asshole he is and proceeds to ignore me for days, making it crystal clear how little he actually wants me here. It’s becoming his routine—to pull away whenever we manage a halfway decent conversation.

Every time we have a conversation where I allow myself to be vulnerable, he ends up reminding me he’ll try to take the land away from me, as if I’d ever forget that. As if his threats didn’t scare me, as if I just forgot about them under everything else going on.

The truth is that it does scare me. I do worry. I dim a little every time I think I’ll get a call from my lawyer with bad news… but I won’t give up. I won’t.

Becket Callahan can go to hell.

"Your brother is an asshole," I whisper, sitting against a tree trunk that offers me some shade. I’m talking to Lucas, because this is the only place where I feel his presence as a small breeze that soothes me without hurting. "Becket thinks I don’t know he sneaks into the cabin every morning to make repairs. How dumb does he think I am not to notice?"

There’s no reply, of course, but I wasn’t expecting one.

"Also, now he hides his hats better. I had to look for this one for half an hour." I lift the hat briefly from the ground. "It’s full of hay—the i***t hides them in the barn straw so I won’t find them. Ever since he found out I steal them, he steals them back. Can you believe that? Right now I only have two." I sigh, a little irritated, but then I smile when more breeze brushes against my face. "Why did we never come here?" I look up at the sky, my smile widening just a bit. "It’s pretty. Peaceful… it’s really pretty."

I still wonder why Lucas never told me about this place. Every time I asked about his parents or family, he said they were dead—which I’m still not sure is true. I still don’t know anything about my husband’s parents, and the only person who could help me understand who Lucas was before me doesn’t seem willing to cooperate.

My brain keeps trying to piece clues together like a puzzle. Lucas’s words, his gestures whenever I asked about his family, late-night conversations when he’d get nostalgic. I also gather bits and pieces from Becket. And while my brain has managed to assemble part of the puzzle, my heart refuses to believe it.

But…

"If it’s what I think… you could’ve told me." I run my fingers through the grass, tilting my face thoughtfully. "I know you loved me, Lucas. But you could’ve shared a bit of your past, some of your burden—I wouldn’t have broken."

Little by little, I’ve come to understand that Becket was Lucas’s father figure. The age gap turned the brotherly love into something more. And right now, Becket is carrying more responsibility for Lucas’s death than he should.

Honestly, I’d like to show Becket more of who Lucas became, the man his brother turned into. And I’d also like him to show me Lucas’s roots. But it’s hard when every time I lower my walls just a bit, he throws the land issue back in my face.

I stay under the tree for about another hour, the relaxing sound of the lake bringing me peace… until that peace is shattered by the sound of a horse galloping full speed in the distance.

I get up, hat on my head to get a better view.

Yep, just what I thought.

Becket is charging toward me furiously, riding his horse like he’s not a cowboy but a hitman about to draw his weapon and finish the job.

To kill me.

I tense, wondering when’s the right moment to run.

Because I need to run.

Becket dismounts, and…

"It’s your fault!" I yell, backing away from him.

"My fault?!"

"Because you steal what’s mine!" I throw my arms out in front of me, as if that could stop him from advancing.

"The hats are mine, Lia!"

"You sneak into my cabin and take them from my property—they’re mine!"

"Because you steal them from me!" He scratches his head hard, which almost makes me laugh, but when he glares at me, I stop. "What the hell did you put on it, you crazy woman?!"

"Nothing!"

"You put something on this f*****g hat! I know it!"

Just some itching powder, but in my defense, he shouldn’t have gone into my cabin to steal something that’s no longer his.

"If only you respected other people’s property!" I shout, stomping a small step toward him.

Fury flashes in his blue eyes, they look so dark they’re nearly black. And that little scar on the corner of his upper lip? It deepens, making his anger stand out even more.

Though, honestly, he can’t be that mad… right?

"It’s just itching powder."

His expression turns to surprise and utter horror.

"You… f*****g hell, Lia Callahan!"

My eyes go wide as he charges toward me.

A scream escapes as I run away from him, and he seems fully determined to do something absolutely unhinged.

"I’m twenty-eight years old, but my father would kill any man who lays a hand on me—he won’t rest until you’re dead! I swear to God!"

I move behind the tree, and we start circling it—me fleeing, him chasing.

"I’m not gonna lay a hand on you! Just give you a taste of your own medicine!"

So that’s why he’s still holding the hat—he wants to put it on me.

Son of a…

Another scream bursts from me when he lunges forward, his hand reaching for my shirt, but I jump back and dodge it.

"You can’t do this to me!" I squeal, spinning around the tree as he tries again to catch me.

"Can’t I?" A wicked smile forms on his lips. "You must be used to getting your way in London, but this ain’t London, Lia!"

"AH!" I move back again.

"If your family lets you have your way, I don’t!"

I swallow and look around, searching for something to help me.

"Animal!"

"Ha, I’m the animal? You’re the wild one here!"

I back toward the lake and try to distract him with my words.

"A gentleman would never do that to a lady."

"I don’t see any lady around here." He stretches out his hand again, but I back up once more, and he grabs air. "Come here!"

"And I don’t see any gentleman!"

"Glad you’re clear on that." He throws his hand toward me again, and a sharp scream escapes me. "Because if you do something to me, I’ll give it back to you twice as hard."

Then he lunges again, but I dodge to the side and trip him. Everything happens so fast, it’s a blur—but just as Becket is about to fall, he grabs the hem of my shirt and yanks me down with him.

[1/2]