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Made Of Scars	By : Dreamer2987 Category: 1 through F > Death Sentence Views: 1439 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Sentence and I don't claim to. I don't any characters from the movie. The only character I own are my original characters that I created. I'm not making any money/profit from this.

Chapter List
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This is my first published fanfiction. I published this story on fanfiction.net and wanted to publish it here as well. Thanks to hoppnhorn, an amazing writer on fanficion.net, for inspiring me to finally publish my writing. Enjoy =)

Home is where the blood is, Home is where the heart is.
That statement held more truth for Layia than most people thought possible. And now that she was back home again, in Boston, after ten years she felt that hard truth fully set upon on her like the heavy burden it was, weighing her down like a two ton boulder.
Layia was 5ft 7’, with a slender toned body and curves in all the right places. Her hair was dark brown with soft waves, reaching a little bit below her shoulder blades. She had bright hazel eyes with specks of brown in them. Her skin had that naturally sun kissed glow, like a light healthy tan.
Tonight she wore black skinny jeans, black boots with 3 in. heels that were covered by her jeans. A dark purple tank top with lace lining the top and bottom adorned her upper half along with a black form fitting jacket. Three silver rings resided on her fingers. A necklace hung around her neck that her mother had given to her when she was a child. It was silver, in the shape of a heart with two roses in the middle, a symbol of a mother’s love for her daughter.
She drove her car into the parking lot of a bar called the Four Roses. The onslaught of heavy emotions she was feeling from being back were driving her to get a good drink. She knew what to expect inside the moment she laid her eyes on it, strong alcohol, rough men and a never ending supply of cigarette smoke, just the way she liked it. After giving herself a once over in the overhead mirror and locking her car up she made her way to the doors that would give way to her temporary sanctuary.
The intense smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke wafted through the air and filled her nose the moment she stepped inside. It was a smell that had always been oddly comforting for her, and tonight was no different. The moment it filled her senses she felt the tension leave her mind and body. She didn’t remember this bar from the last time she was here. Of course she was 13 then and didn’t remember much about that time at all, she had pushed those memories away for a reason. Although she was sure she was more interested in playing at the park than enjoying happy hour. She let a small, barely noticeable grin tug at the corners of her full lips, this was exactly what she needed tonight. A real bar and a good stiff drink, nothing less would do.
The Four Roses didn’t look more special than other bar she had been to. The bar itself was located on the left side against the wall. Past the bar was the back room where tables and chairs that had men seated throughout them were placed. One table in particular was full with eight men and him drinking and smoking the night away at it. A pool table, a game machine that didn’t appear to be working and an assortment of other knickknacks also filled the space. She could see a door on the side that likely led to the bathrooms and a few back rooms whose purposes she didn’t care to think about. If only she knew what the bar and the nine men at that table had in store for her, she would have taken back her statement about it not being a special bar.
Her black heels made a distinct clicking sound, her wavy brown hair swaying with every step she took to the barstool, she had grabbed the attention of everyone in the bar. She could feel their eyes boring into her, trying to figure out why a girl like her was in a bar like this and how to get into her pants simultaneously.
As she took a seat at the bar, her black skinny jeans shifted lower and her top lifted higher, revealing the toned flesh of her lower back and the scars that adorned it. Layia was grateful that the scars were barely noticeable in the dim light of the bar, she didn’t like the questions that came when people saw them.
Hewas now watching her as intently as every other man in the bar was, the eyes of his gang taking in the same sight. Women like her were a rare sight in his bar and he had to admit the usual lineup of sluts he fucked barely gave him pleasure anymore. They were desperate for his attentions and would happily do whatever he asked, but they weren’t the best fucks and it was getting harder to get off from them. Now her, on the other hand, she had potential. Her outfit was perfect, hugging her curves just right, showing that she wasn’t anorexic but a real woman. Her lips were full and naturally pink, giving him vivid images of the things he wanted to do with those lips. His eyes fell to her breasts, he could tell they were real, not large by any means but firm and just the right size to fill his hands. Her ass was firm and slightly round, the perfect size to go with the rest of her figure. The combination of it all was enough to get every man in the bar tightening against the front of his jeans. She was gorgeous and she was going to be his even if it was just for one night.
“Double shot of Jack and a glass of straight Disaronno.” Sammy almost looked surprised for a brief moment before he went to work, getting her drinks. It wouldn’t be the first time the bartender practically gawked at her choice of liquor. Apparently women and whiskey didn’t usually go together. Cosmos and getting drunk after a few glasses was more common. Fuck that. She had never had a weak drink in her life and she wasn’t about to start now.
She smiled in her mind as the drinks were placed in front of her. Just what the doctor ordered. She quickly knocked back the shot of Jack and went to work downing the glass of Disaronno. Less than a minute had passed before both drinks were gone and she was ordering a repeat. She had never been much for savoring her drink, especially when she just wanted the effects to start kicking in. Just as she had been about to knock back her second shot a man decided it was in both of their best interests, if he planted his fat ass next to her.
“Strong drink for such a pretty little thing. You sure you can handle it?” He asked with a slur in his words and sneer on his face.
“The fuck you call what I just did?” She spat back, not even bothering to look at him as she spoke. Ignorant prick. Seconds after the words left her lips she quickly downed her second double shot of Jack.
The taken back expression that crossed his face at her words amused her. He obviously had been expecting a very different response from her. That’s what he got from drunkenly mistaking her for a stupid whore.
The man quickly regained his composure, his eyes had darkened some but his tone still remained drunk and happy. “Come on sweetheart, you don’ gotta be like that. I mean if you aren’t here for this.” He said motioning to his crotch, as if that’s all any woman who came in here was after. “Then what are you here for?”
God almighty he was annoying. “I’m here for a stiff drink. Not a limp dick.” He was really starting to agitate her and she knew that downgrading a man’s member was a surefire way to drastically hurt his pride, especially when it was true. “And I’m not your fucking sweetheart.” The anger in her tone was more pronounced this time but she still remained calm. For once, she just wanted to enjoy her drink in peace, was that too much to ask for?
He leaned in to her, his close proximity making her stomach churn. “I’m being nice here but you’re fucking pushing it… sweetheart” She knew he said that last word with emphasize just to piss her off. If only he knew how dangerous she was pissed off.
“Nice? This is you being nice? Well fuck me and call me Ms. Daisy, I thought this was you being a complete ass.” Her eyes were locked onto his now, her dark hues boring back into his, daring him to keep pushing her. He was giving her the same treatment, his nostrils were practically flaring and his left hand was gripping the bar so hard his knuckles were white.
He kept his mouth shut and jaw tight for a moment, almost as if he was thinking about how to handle her. “Fuck this. Your comin’ with me, you stupid bitch, I’m going to teach you not to fuck me like this.” He was practically growling into her ear now, his words still slurred but his agitation beyond evident.
“If I was fucking you we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She smirked at him. “But I would be having the worst lay of my life.”
“SHUT THAT PRETTY LITTLE MOUTH OF YOURS BEFORE I DO IT FOR YOU!!” He was fuming now, every blood vein in his neck popping out. He looked like he was about to burst.
“You know what you are? You’re a man with his head so far up his ass he’s licking his own damn prostrate. It’s disgusting and pathetic” Her tone remained calm as she paused for a moment, letting that sink in. “FUCK OFF!”
She was so focused on dealing with the man breathing down her neck that she didn’t even notice the one watching her from his table in the back, the one who had been staring at her since she walked in. His icy blue eyes were watching her every move and his ears listening to every word that came from her lips. He’d had a grin on his lips since she started telling the greasy fucker off and he was becoming more intrigued with each harsh comeback she threw at the man. Between her beauty and her attitude he knew he wasn’t letting this one go without showing her why he was the best fuck in the whole damn state. If only she knew… it would have been so much easier to give in and go with the man sitting next to her, losing the interest of the man with blue eyes in the process. But then again… she had never been much for the easy way.
There you have it. The first chapter, I really hope that you enjoyed it. Leave me some love in reviews.
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Made Of Scars