His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1) by SAKINA HUSSAIN (ebook reader library TXT) 📕

but I try and not let it display across my features. He stands there awkwardly, eyes dropping to the floor.

"What are you doing here Tobias? You hate me."

He appears taken aback by my sudden outburst and he walks towards me, taking a seat in Jake's chair.

"You think I hate you? You're so wrong Emily." He says sadly, shaking his head. The uneasy feeling sinks back into my stomach as the words once again run through my head.

You're all I can think about. . .

I shut my eyes, battling with myself whether I should ask him if it's true or not. I'm so certain it was Tobias speaking to me that night.

"I don't hate you. I was worried when I heard what happened, I'm just really glad you're okay." He adds quietly. I smiled at him gratefully, it feels nice having people genuinely care for my wellbeing.

"Thank you," I respond, taking a sip from my hot chocolate. The liquid warms me up instantly and I sigh, falling flat against my pillows.

"You look great considering you were shot." Tobias adds and I chuckle at his words —

"You should have seen me two days ago. I haven't showered in four weeks, it wasn't pretty. I feel sorry for the poor nurse who had to help me, she must be scarred for life." I joke and Tobias chuckles, his chest vibrating as he laughs. He lowers himself down onto the chair.

"You should laugh more often, you don't come across as scary that way." I smile at him. He mocks hurt and holds his hand to his heart —

"Are you saying I look miserable most of the time?"

I nod my head immediately laughing at his reaction.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"You're not the first person to tell me that ironically."

Tobias' gaze land on my arms and I follow them to see what caught his attention . . .

My scars from the rope.

"I can't believe he would do something like that." Tobias mumbled quietly, his eyes frozen in place on the red lines etched into my skin.

"Well believe it because he did."

I quietly study my wrists, grimacing at the sight of them. I don't want to look at them anymore. I turn them away from me, acting like the scars don't exist.

Tobias' hand shoots out immediately and he holds mine, gently turning it back over. I freeze in place, not knowing how to react to the sudden contact.

"You don't have to hide them Emily."

I watch as his fingers trace over the scars and I breathe in sharply, feeling a rush of emotions. I feel the tears well up in my eyes as all the memories come flooding back. It's so hard not to think about Jones and what he did.

"He chained me up, like an animal." I whisper. Saying it out loud finally made me realise how messed up the situation was. I release out a small sob, wrapping my arms around my body protectively. I feel Tobias stand up beside me and pull me to him, letting me nestle against his chest.

"He's gone now." Tobias murmurs as I allow the tears to fall silently. His hand strokes the top of my arm as he attempts to comfort me. I gratefully accept, needing a friend right now. The last thing I want is to to be alone in a dark hospital room with images of Jones filling my thoughts.

"Thanks Tobias," I sniffle, wiping my eyes. His arms wrap around me tighter before he responds, his words softly spoken —

"Don't mention it."

 

Chapter Forty Three - Scars.

"Let me show you something."

I nod and watch in silence as Tobias walks to the end of my bed. He breathes in deeply as if he's debating whether he's making the right choice or not. I wait patiently, wondering what it is he wants to show me.

He bites the corner of his lip before his fingers find the hem of his shirt. He begins to pull it over his head and I stop him midway, my eyes widening.

"Tobias, what are you doing?"

He carries on, completely ignoring my question. I watch, my eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as he pulls his shirt over his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing. My eyes travelled down to where his jeans hung dangerously low. I avert my eyes, feeling all kinds of wrong.

"Tobias, get dressed." I demand, keeping my eyes away from his body. I hear him sigh and walk towards me, his shoes padding softly on the floor.

"Emily, look at me."

I turn my face towards him, my jaw clenched with frustration. I lose all anger as my eyes meet his, they held such vulnerability in them. A glossy sheen covers his eyes as if he's on the verge of breaking down right here.

"Look," he said firmly, pointing at a section on his body. I inhale deeply before glancing in the direction of his fingers. A sharp gasp escapes my mouth and I finally understand what he wants to show me.

His finger points at his chest, close to where his heart is located. It's hard to see at quick glance but when you look closely, it's clear as day. Underneath a tribal tattoo etched onto his skin is a scar. A circular scar that dipped deep into his skin. It's an ugly white colour, a sign it had been there for years.

"Is that a — "

"A bullet scar."

His jaw completely clenches, his face as icy as stone. My hand shoots up to my mouth as I examine it closely in awe. My other hand reaches towards it but I stop in mid air —

"Can I touch it?" I ask quietly and he simply nods at me, giving me his approval. The second my hand makes contact, I feel him breathe in deeply.

His