Scars from a Memoir by Marni Mann Read Free Book Online

couldn't remember if I had rolled up the sleeves of my cardigan. “Because you saw the scars on my arms?”
    “There's that, yeah, but—”
    “I was on dope for five years, Asher, and…”
    The grass was easier to look at than his face. It just stood there, waiting to be stepped on and mowed. It turned greener in the summerand got covered with snow in the winter. Why couldn't I be a blade of grass?
    One of his hands covered mine, and he placed the other on my cheek, moving it so I faced him. “Don't be afraid.”
    How could I not be? Josiah and Dave, the only two men who'd shown a little bit of interest lately, treated me like I was still a whore as soon as I was honest with them. Once the truth came out, every time Asher looked at me he'd see my scars. Not just the ones on my skin. The ones I buried inside.
    “I did some shit, shit that would make you sick.”
    “We all have regrets.”
    “Not like I do.” I shook my head and looked down. “I hurt innocent people; people died because of me. If the cops hadn't busted me, I'd still be messed up. I spent two-and-a-half years in jail, then three months in rehab, and now I'm in sober living.”
    “But you're clean, right?”
    “Yeah, I'm clean, but you don't get it.” I stood and walked over to the water, taking a seat at the edge of the pond. I wrapped my arms around my legs and begged for rain. Not a drop fell from the sky.
    “You're right,” he said from behind me. “I'm not an addict, so I don't understand what you went through.” He sat next to me and pulled my legs, turning me toward him. Once I was settled, he put his hands on the tops of my sneakers. “Make me understand.”
    A light from one of the buildings was shining on his face. It made his eyes glow. They were gray with swirls of brown on the outer edge.
    “I thought the time I served and being sober would be enough to pay for my mistakes, but my past is still haunting me.”
    “Did you know that guy?”
    Dustin and his messenger weren't the only people who haunted me. Asher wouldn't know that, though. I hadn't told him who had died because of me.
    “No, my ex sent him to woo me,” I said. “He wants me to help him win his appeal.”
    “Are you going to?”
    “He was guiltier than me. I was just an accomplice.”
    He ran his fingers through the hair that hung by the side of my face. After a few strokes, he tucked the strands behind my ear. “He can send whoever he wants. I won't let anyone hurt you.”
    “I don't understand why you want to help me. You barely know me.”
    His gaze softened, and he pulled my hands into his lap, covering them with his. “I know you better than you think.”
    “But I haven't told Sada anything about me. She—”
    “Sada didn't tell me anything.”
    “Did you read the articles about me in the paper?”
    The expression on his face was the same one he'd had when he found me outside his apartment. He was holding something in. What could he be hiding?
    “Nadal isn't my only brother. I have another one—an older one.”
    Was his older brother one of my Johns? I didn't want to ask, just in case that wasn't it. He probably assumed I'd been a prostitute, but saying that word would solidify it.
    “His name is Jesse,” he said.
    A giant lump formed in the back of my throat.
    “Not the same Jesse who was dating my brother?” I asked.
    He nodded, and when I tried to stand, his hands flew to my shoulders and stopped me. “I was going to tell you at the party, but the timing wasn't right.”
    Jesse and Michael had been together for over a year by the time I found out Michael was gay. Michael had tried to tell me about him before, but I was too strung out to listen. They were still dating when my pimp killed him.
    “How well did you know Michael?”
    “We were good friends.”
    It suddenly all made sense. Sada must have told Asher she was bringing me to his apartment, and when I showed up, he matched my name with the pictures he'd seen of me at Michael's. He