Текст книги "Shattered Ink"

Автор книги: Laura Wright

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Rush

Erica Day is like a cross between Kat Von D and Scarlett O’Fucking Hara, and once upon a time I thought she might be the girl for me. We had a ton in common, same biz, same taste in music, good for a laugh. I even opened up to her a little. Told her about the girl who had owned me once upon a time, then shattered my heart. Told her about the vanilla asshole, the Campbells, the dance and how I ran off afterward. But instead of letting me just vent and offering a few ‘She missed outs’ Erica talked about it all the damn time. Questions, questions, questions. It drove me nuts. It drove me away. So needless to say, even though it’s been three years, I’m thinking that keeping her and Ads apart might be a good idea.

“I’m rocking a nipple piercing in five, ya’ll,” Erica twangs. “And no, Vincent, you can’t go in and ‘check that shit out.’”

Hanging out behind the front desk, I glance up from the books. V, Janie and Erica are all chill in the reception area. I got one more canvas and then I’m outie, off to be with my girl. Right now, Addison is driving around in one of my cars, picking up food for tonight. Said she wants to cook me dinner before she leaves, and I’m thinking that’s going to be the perfect time to slip her my extra key and ask her if she’ll move here and use it on a daily basis. I’m nervous as fuck she’ll say no. She’s got that whole life back in Cali. A place, a best friend, maybe even a job hook-up. Will she be cool about starting over—no, starting fresh—here with me?

“Hey, Miss Day.” V gets up from the couch and hustles over to me. He rolls his eyes. “I just offered to help. Sometimes a girl can use an extra pair of hands.”

“True,” Erica concedes, giving Janie a quick wink.

How such different chicks bonded so quickly, I’ll never know. Janie is a hard-ass ink master with a 1950s style and legs completely covered in tats. Erica, on the other hand, is soft spoken, free of ink, a natural blond, and dresses like a conservative Southern belle, though we all know she’s got about ten piercings underneath.

“And by the way, Miss Day,” Vincent calls out to Erica, elbowing me in the ribs like he thinks he doesn’t have my complete attention. “If it’s possible, you’re even hotter now than back when you were banging Rush.”

Janie purses her ruby-red lips at him. “You’re such a heathen, Vincent.”

He nods, smirks. “Thanks.”

“Oh, Vincent, you haven’t changed,” Erica says, then slides her brown gaze to me. “But what about our friend here? Rush Merrick. The tall, handsome, tatted-up and not-very-chatty owner of Wicked Ink. Has he changed since all that banging occurred?”

Vincent laughs. “Fuck yeah, he has.”

Her pale brows drift up. “Really? How?”

“Dude’s got a serious girlfriend.”

Her casual back and forth gives way to a moment of actual interest. “Is that right, Rush?”

I nod.

“So true love has finally bitten you in the ass.”

Her southern drawl is kind of grating on the old eardrums. Never noticed that before. “Not the ass, no.”

Her eyes remain locked with mine. “Good. Glad to hear it, doll. You deserve it after that mess way back when.” She winks. “See. I don’t forget, honey.”

“Forget what?” Vincent asks, looking from one of us to the other. “What mess?”

“V, you’re drooling on the desk,” Janie says, smoothing down that elaborate pin-up girl hairstyle she loves so much.

Vincent ignores her. “What happened? I need to know or I won’t sleep tonight.”

Janie laughs. “You’re such an idiot, V.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t want to know, J,” he returns with a faux sneer.

Ignoring them both, Erica asks me, “So, do I get to meet her?”

“Nope.”

“Why’s that, honey? She a jealous little kitten?”

I’m really trying to remember what the fuck I saw in this chick when the front door opens and a client walks through it. She’s got a row of small rings through one eyebrow and both nostrils pierced. Halle-fucking-luyah.

I turn back to Erica. She’s still watching me with way too much interest.

“Someone here to see you, Miss Day,” I say with a touch of the gruff. “Don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Addison

Lisa: he kissed me

Me: and that’s a problem?

Lisa: with only his tongue

Me: BARF

Lisa: I think I can still taste him

Me: when are u seeing him again?

Lisa: nxt wk

Me: SRSLY?!?

Lisa: his bro is graduating w/us. he’ll be @ the ceremony. our fams are having brunch (kill me now)

Me: well congrats

Lisa: on what?

Me: the engagement

Lisa: FUCK U

Me: hardy har har

Lisa: so…howzit going there? how r all the tattooed bad boys n girls? I’m sure they’re doing all sorts of improper shit. (sighs)

Me: come w/me next time & u can see 4 yrself

Lisa: how’s Rush?

Me: he tattooed my name on his hand

Lisa: wtf?

Me: addison…right down his thumb

Lisa: no shit?

Me: it’s so hot. he’s so hot.

Lisa: BARF.

Me: he told me loved me, Lis.

Lisa: course he did, beeyotch.

Me: I’m gonna talk 2 him tonite. tell him everything

Lisa: good!

Me: I’m even @ grocery store buying shit I can’t pronounce & wine from sometime before 2013!

Lisa: fancy. just don’t max yr credit card

Me: k

Lisa: loves you, whore.

Me: back atch, beeyotch. and hey, sry abt yer date

Lisa: (shrugs) maybe it’ll b better the 2nd time. have fun tonight & I’ll c u when u land.

Me: k thx bye

Rush

“This is so sick, man,” my client says as we walk out of my room and into the recep area.

Everyone’s gotta be working because the place is dead.

I pat my guy on the back. “Glad you like it, man.” Dude’s been on my waiting list for eighteen months, and even though I kinda wanted to blow him off today to hang with Addison, I’m not that big of a prick.

Before we hit the front door, he turns and shakes my hand. He’s somewhere in his mid-sixties, and I love the fact that he’s still totally into scoring ink. Especially with the process being a little trickier on older skin. But this badass didn’t have to take a break once in four hours.

“It was so worth the wait,” he tells me. “And the drive from New Mexico.”

“Well, when you’re ready for your next one, you let me know. I’ll get you in. No more of this eighteen months shit.”

“You got it. Thanks, brother.” He tosses me a salute and heads out the door.

Hot damn. All done. Time to grab my keys and get home to my baby. V says he’s gonna lock up, so there’s a fifty percent shot it’ll get done. No worries though. After I drop Ads at the airport I’ll come back and check on things.

“Hey, Rush, man!” Vincent calls from the dungeon. “Come in here.”

For about two seconds, I wonder if I can pretend I didn’t hear him and get the hell out the door and on my way. Shit, Ads and I only have ‘til midnight. I want to taste her grub, then taste her.

“Rush, I know you’re out there,” V calls again. “Get your ass in here.”

Fuck. Fine. Thirty seconds. That’s all he gets. I head for his room. The kid always keeps his door open. It’s policy for him. He tells his clients he’s agoraphobic, but that’s total bullshit. He likes to keep an eye on the door. Who’s walking in. If she’s hot.  And if she’s brought another hot chick with her for support.

“What do you want, V?” I say, coming up on his door. “I’m about to take off…”

I nearly hit the doorjamb with my face, because sitting in Vincent’s chair, which incidentally is shaped like an electric chair, complete with restraining straps—the douchebag had the thing custom made—is my baby. Addison.

“What are you doing?” Even as the words come tumbling out of my mouth I have the answer. V’s got his gloves on and Ads has her arm exposed. Holy shit.

“She asked me, man.” Wiping some goo onto the inside of her forearm, V flashes me his pearlies. “And you know, I make it a policy to never say no to chicks who have hot asses.”

“Oh, Vincent, you’re such a charmer,” Addison says dryly, though her eyes are on me. “How Lisa didn’t see that in you, I’ll never understand.”

That shuts him up in a hurry. I gotta remember that trick for next time.

“How long have you been here?” I ask her, but my eyes are already traveling down her arm, over the script V’s just put on her.

“Half hour,” she says. “So…what do you think?”

I scratch my head, staring at it. What do I think? My name on her body. RUSH in black ink. Fuck me hard, it’s what I wanted. It makes my insides all warm and shit, and my mouth hungry to kiss her. But then there’s something else snaking around in there. Down low in my gut.

“Rush?”

I look up. Addison is staring at me, sorta excited and worried all at the same time. “You okay?”

“Hey, ya’ll,” comes a southern singsong from the door. It fuses with that thing snaking around in my belly and puts me in an instant bad mood.

“I wouldn’t normally do this,” she keeps on. “But my client wants to show it off.”

Vincent’s head jerks around so fast I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be dealing with whiplash later. “Who wants to show what off?”

“My sweet little client has just had a clit piercing.”

Vincent makes a noise like air being let out of a balloon. It makes Addison laugh.

“Rush can finish me up, V,” she says, looking up at me. “After all, this part of my skin belongs to him now. And you know, that clit thing sounds like a can’t-miss event.”

“Shit, man,” Vincent says to me, pulling off his gloves and stuffing them in the trash. “You managed to score the coolest chick on the motherfucking planet, you know that?”

“Oh, he knows,” Addison says. “Don’t you, baby?”

It’s pretty useless to try and stop something that’s just fucking inevitable. But I do. For a second, I actually attempt to send Erica a mental email. Message Line: Get the fuck out and don’t say shit to Addison. But you know. Useless. She strolls into the room and comes over to where we’re all hanging out.

“So this is your girlfriend, Rush?” Her eyes are moving over Addison like she’s a freaking painting to be studied, maybe even interpreted.

Fuck. There’s nothing to do, but do. “Erica Day this is Addison Cramer.”

“Hey,” Ads says, offering her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Erica shakes it, but it’s super chill, kinda that up-and-down-once-and-we’re-done thing. “Addison?”

Oh, hell.

Ads nods. “Yeah. And let me say, I think it’s so cool what you do. Maybe when you come back again you could squeeze me in?” She stops and laughs at herself. “Not for the clit thing, probably. You know. I should probably start small. Eyebrow or nose or nipple.”

Addison is being cute as fuck and I just want to grab her out of V’s electric chair and take her home. But Erica has just tasted blood and she’s clearly ready to go all vampire on us.

“Wait,” she starts, turning to me. “Wasn’t that ex-girlfriend from high school, the one who stepped out with some other guy and broke your heart, named Addison?”

I don’t answer her. But I’m pretty sure she sees and understands the death stare I’m throwing her way. We are no longer friends, or colleagues.

“That’s some coincidence,” she adds.

Hearing our history laid bare by a stranger has Addison up out of her chair. Gone is the cute as fuck thing. Her eyes are pinned to Erica. “How do you know about that?”

Erica shrugs innocently. “Rush told me. Back when we were together.”

“Together?” Addison repeats, then looks over at me.

“Yeah,” she said. “It really tore him up. Really affected the way he communicated. Our sex life was—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” I say in the coldest voice imaginable. “Erica, you have a pierced clit waiting on you and a full day of appointments. I suggest you get the fuck on it. And then after that, get the fuck out.”

For a moment, she has the decency to look contrite. “I’m sorry, honey. That was out of line. I just kinda wanted to know.” She shrugs, gives me one last tight smile, then leaves the room.

When I look back, Addison is standing by V’s table and taping up her arm.

I go over to her and reach for her hand. “Let me do that.”

She pulls away from me. “So, is this why you sort of discouraged me from coming in today?”

I’m not about to bullshit her. “Yeah.”

She looks up. “Why?”

“Come on, Ads. She was three years ago. I don’t give a fuck about her. But I do give a fuck about you. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“No. You didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“She’s a pain in the ass. Clearly loves causing trouble. She knew about what happened back in high school and I didn’t want you to hear that.”

“But I did hear about it,” she returns hotly.

“Only because you came here.”

Her mouth drops open an inch.

“Shit.” I growl at my foot-in-mouth assholery. “That’s not what I mean. I’m glad you’re here. I want you here all the damn time. I just didn’t want you to have to deal with that kind of drama.”

She lifts her chin, her nostrils flaring now. She’s super pissed. “I suspect that being with you, I’m going to be exposed to all kinds of drama. I know you haven’t been celibate since high school, and I know what kind of tail comes through that door several times a day. Stop protecting me, and prepare me.”

“What?”

“I could’ve handled that bitch. But you didn’t prepare me.” She tosses the rest of the tape on the table and heads for the door. “I’m out of here.”

I follow. Course I fucking follow. I love her to death. “Addison.”

“I need some time, Rush.” She doesn’t even slow, doesn’t even glance over her shoulder. Just hits the front door of the shop and keeps on going.

Once outside, I stop. She’s already in my car, and she’s right. I fucked up. She deserves some cooling off. Shit. This was not the day I had planned.

Without looking at me, Addison backs up and drives off.

After a minute of staring at her receding taillights, I head back inside. I’m feeling murderous and I’m ready to fire anyone who crosses my path and says something stupid.

Vincent’s behind the desk, taking a credit card from his client. “She gone?” he asks.

I shoot him a warning glare. “What do you think?

“I told you, man,” he says with exactly zero sympathy. “Name tats. Kiss of fucking death.”

Addison

I lift the wooden spoon to my mouth and taste. Holy crap, that’s some kickass gravy. I stare into the pot. It looks good. Brown and bubbling and sending off hella good scents. I’m kind of proud of myself. Coq au Vin had sounded super difficult and majorly time consuming, and yeah, it was both those things, but I did it.

I’m just taking another quick taste, when I hear the front door open. My pulse jacks up in my throat, but I’m glad he’s home. And I’m appreciative of the hour he’s given me to cool down.

“You’re making dinner, Ads?”

I turn to look at him. “I told you I was going to.”

He’s leaning against the counter about five feet away. “I know, but I thought…” His body language is wary, but his eyes are throwing off hardcore forgive-me darts. God, I’m so in love with him.

“Did you think I’d be on my way to the airport, Rush?”

He nods, and I hate the flash of fear in his eyes.

“Oh, Jesus.” I put the spoon down and lean against the counter, too. “I’m not running from this. I fucking love you. It took us five years to get here.”

His eyes close and he exhales. “Oh, Ads.”

When he opens them again, I continue, “But you can’t lie to me. No matter what. No matter how you think I’m going to react.” My words catch up with me and sucker punch me in the chest. I laugh softly. At myself. My silly, fearful, happy self. “Amazing.”

“What?”

“I learned something from this. From that asshole ex of yours. Seriously, she might be from the south or whatever, but girl needs to learn some manners.”

Rush pushes away from the counter and saunters over to me. And when I say ‘saunters,’ I mean it. Boy may be scared of losing what we got, but nothing can steal his sexy.

“You gotta know something,” I say when he places his hands on my hips and pins me with those jade-green eyes. “And if it sends you running out the door, then fine, I get that. Of course, this is your house so maybe I’m the one who leaves, or you step out for a walk and…”

His hands tighten around my hips and he eases me closer. “Ads. Talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

I take a breath, bite my lower lip. “Okay. Here goes. So, I’ve been in hell for five weeks.”

His body goes rigid. “What?”

“Except when I’m with you,” I amend quickly. “When I’m with you I’m crazy happy. Like, nuts happy. Like I can breathe and chill and focus. But when I’m back there, when I’m home, without you, life just completely sucks. Seriously, it’s orange sweatpants and sad movies, pining all night instead of studying, and being an utterly craptastic friend. I’m lost.” I shrug. “I’m addicted. To you. To us.”

“See, that’s the problem, baby,” Rush says casually, like all the shit I just said was completely and totally understandable.

“What?” I ask. I think my Coq au Vin might be burning. And I think I don’t care.

“Cali’s not your home.”

I swallow. No. Definitely don’t care about the fancy French chicken. “It’s not?”

He shakes his head. “Come on, Addison. We’re both shit without each other. Phone’s not going to do it. Text just pisses me off. And weekends are a goddamn tease.”

I nod, laugh. “I know, totally.”

He pulls back a second, his brows slamming together. He looks so hot when he’s confused. “Wait a minute. Did you actually think I’d be freaked out or turned off by hearing how sick your love for me is?”

“Yeah. I kinda did.” I shake my head. “That abandonment thing runs deep, you know? And when you find that person who just drives you crazy in the freaking best way, like they get you, and all you want to do is be with them, you get scared. You get scared ‘cause you wanna hang on tight. Crazy tight. And you wonder if you’ll suffocate them and they’ll break away and haul ass to a different state or country or…the moon.” I start laughing at myself. I’m such a nutjob.

Rush pulls me in for a kiss. It’s not the hungry, I’m-going-to-fuck-the-shit-out-of-you kind, which is pretty standard for us because we’re horny and in love. It’s gentle and vulnerable, and it makes tears prick in my eyes.

When he pulls away, there’s something near my cheek. I can’t see it because it’s out of my eyeline, but I think it’s metal. Then he brings it around and holds it between us.

“Move in and suffocate the shit out of me, Ads. And before you say anything, that’s not a question.” He takes the key and heads for the top of my tank. I gasp when he places the cool metal between my breasts. His eyes lift to hold mine. “I was going for your heart, but I’m not that skilled in the romantic notions department.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and get as close as possible. “Oh, I think you’re pretty good.”

“And I think you’re pretty.”

I giggle like a girl. “Maybe we should turn off the stove?”

“Definitely.”

He flips the switch in one easy movement, then hauls me into his arms and kisses me again. And this time, it’s totally hungry and I-want-to-fuck-the-shit-out-of-you. And you know what? We can eat later.

Lisa

My mom cups my face and stares at me with tears in her eyes. “You looked so beautiful up there, darling. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

It’s crazy time. All around us, graduates in caps and gowns are celebrating. Some with their families, some with their friends.

“Now, if they’d have just allowed you to wear something other than black.”

I ease away from her hold. “Mom—”

“It’s just so drab, darling.” She lowers her voice. “And Kevin was watching.”

“You think Kevin would prefer me in…pink, purple?”

She lifts one perfectly penciled brow. “Don’t be a shit, darling.”

I laugh. At just that moment, my father, Kevin and his parents join us. Mr. and Mrs. Stanfield are pretty much a carbon copy of my parents. Tan, toned, aging beautifully, dressed in tailored pastels. It’s the world I grew up in, and honestly—and sadly—the world I feel most comfortable in. But I try as best I can to venture out and be bad. I think I’ve succeeded a few times.

My dad scoops me up in his arms and swings me around like I’m six. “My little college graduate.” He places me down and glances over at the Stanfields. “They grow up so fast. Leave the nest and fly off for parts unknown.”

I laugh. “Dad, I’m not flying off. Not until I find a job that sends me places.”

“A job,” my mother says, clucking her tongue and fingering her pearls. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not worried,” I lie. “I’m ready.”

My mother’s steely gaze drifts over to Kevin, who is looking at me with soft affection. I cringe. The last thing in the world I want is another date with The Tongue.

“You know, I was already married with a baby on the way when I was your age, Lisa.” My mother touches the sleeve of Kevin’s ultra-pressed white shirt. “Do you like children, Kevin?”

He looks momentarily startled, so his mother answers for him. “Adores them.”

Oh, Jesus. I need to get to an after-party, like now. Before they start planning our wedding.

“Brunch at the Biltmore, Meredith?” my father asks.

She nods. “Yes. We have reservations for one o’clock.”

“Then we’d better get going.” My father turns to me. “Why don’t you ride with Kevin, honey? We old folk like to stick together.” He gives me a wink.

Real subtle, Dad.

“I brought the Porsche today,” Kevin says, moving closer to me. “I remember you how much you like it. The seats especially.” His eyebrows drift up and down a couple times in an effort to be provocative.

Real subtle, Kev.

He tries to put his arm around me, but I feint right. I seriously can’t bear him touching me again. Just the memory of his tongue coming at me like a knight’s lance, ready to do battle. BARF.

He’s so not deterred. “After brunch we can take it for a ride on the beach. I know a strip of sand that’s totally abandoned. Maybe there’s a few animals around, but I can get them out of my way. Permanently, if you know what I mean.”

I do. I really do. I stare at his shirt and all the buttons. I really do hate buttons.

“Hey, girl!” Someone jumps me from behind, then whispers in my ear, “What’s up, whore?”

Oh, thank god.

“Addy, where have you been?” I say, turning around to verbally flog her for not being by my side as my parents attempt to marry me off to Mega Buttons. But she’s not alone. And I very much mean NOT ALONE.

I eye the two guys dressed completely out of place for a morning graduation ceremony in Santa Barbara. Jeans and t-shirts and lots of ink. “Hey, Rush. Vincent.”

Now, I knew Addison’s man was coming to the ceremony, obviously, but I had not been informed that she had also invited his jerkoff friend.

“Well, Lisa dear,” my mother says behind me. “Are you going to introduce us to your…friends?”

Oh, yeah, sure. This won’t be awkward. “Mom, Dad, Mrs. and Mrs. Stanfield, Kevin, you know my best friend, Addison.” I wait for the little nods between them all to cease before I continue. “And this is her boyfriend, Rush. And this is…” The hottest guy that ever walked the earth. No. That’s not right. I’m flustered. “This is…” The guy who once—oh, god.  No, No, No... “This is one of Rush’s employees, Vincent.” Better. But not much.

Addison’s looking at me like I’m having a stroke or something. Rush is shaking hands with my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Stanfield. And Vincent, with his ‘Suck Me Raw’ t-shirt and nearly shaved skull, is just staring at Kevin like he’s about to bust out laughing.

“You both have some nice artwork there,” Kevin says politely, first pointing at Rush’s neck, then at Vincent’s sleeve tattoo—the one with pussy wagon scrawled down the forearm.

“Thanks, man,” Rush says.

“Yeah, thanks,” Vincent says like he means the exact opposite. “Hey, if you’re ever in Vegas, come by. I can hook you up.”

“For a tattoo?” Kevin says, surprised and slightly uncomfortable. “Oh. Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe.”

“A pin-up with a skull face would look really sharp on your neck.”

Someone clears their throat behind me.

“My son will not be getting a tattoo,” Mrs. Stanfield says sharply. “He’s a lawyer.”

“Right.” Vincent’s gaze flickers to me. “No blue ink for the blue blood.”

“Lisa?” my father begins. “What is he talking about?”

I turn and death-stare at Vincent. “I have no idea,” I utter through gritted teeth.

His lips drift upward. “Yeah you do.”

“V,” Rush says under his breath. “Don’t.”

Vincent’s gaze flickers over to Kevin, then back to me. “Perfect. Your own kind, Lis. It’s where you belong.”

“Shall we go? On y va?” my mom purrs in her I’ve-been-to-Paris-more-times-than-you-can-count French accent. “Brunch awaits.”

I roll my eyes. Good to know Vincent isn’t the only asshole in this crowd.

“It was lovely to meet you all,” my mother says. But her tone pretty much says the opposite.

“You too,” Addison says quickly, giving me the most heartfelt I’m-sooooooo-sorry look.

She pulls both boys away by their offensive t-shirts, but not before Vincent gives me the biggest shit-eating grin on the planet. For one second, I stare after him. Black jeans, fine ass, broad shoulders, sleeves of tattoos, and the words Bite Me shaved into the back of his head.

I turn back to Kevin. He’s smiling at me and holding up the keys to his Porsche.

Fuck, I hate buttons.

The End