Good Girl Gone

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Good Girl Gone Page 13

by Tammy Falkner


  A grin tugs at the corners of my lips and I can’t bite it back. “Yes, I got laid!” I yell loudly. “Did everyone hear that?” I cup my hands around my mouth and yell, “I got laid!”

  “Leave him alone, guys,” Paul barks.

  Sam mock’s Paul’s stern face. “Did you use a condom?” he asks. “You know you got to wrap that shit up.” Paul grabs him in a headlock and gives him a noogie.

  Pete pulls up a chair and straddles it backward, hooking his arms over the back. “So, was it difficult?” he asks. He nods toward my chair.

  “It was fine.” I glare at him and he nods. “All my parts work.”

  “Oh, I know,” Sam says. “I got to hear about it in detail.” He fakes a shiver.

  “I’m happy for you,” Matt says. He motions for me to follow him into the back. I go, watching Sam and Pete as they put their heads together and make hand motions detailing wheelchair sex. Pete crawls on top of Sam and bounces for a second and then they both nod and give me a thumbs-up.

  “Fuck you,” I call back. But inside, I’m laughing right along with them.

  Matt pulls the privacy curtain. “Your appointment tonight might be a little bit tricky,” he says.

  “Why?” I’m confused. I thought it was just a regular tat.

  “She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here, and she requested you specifically.”

  “Who is it?”

  He walks to the back of the shop and opens the back door. Star’s sister Wren walks into the room, glancing from side to side before she stops in front of me.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Matt walks out of the area and pulls the curtain closed tight around us. I see that he has set up my machines and equipment back here.

  “Hi.” Wren waves at me shyly. “Is it okay that I did this?” she asks, and then she bites her lower lip and waits for my answer.

  I scratch my nose, trying to buy time to formulate an answer. “Does Star know you’re here?”

  She shakes her head. “No.” She scrunches up her face. “Is she okay? She called Peck but she didn’t call me.” Her eyes avoid mine and I can tell she’s worried.

  “She’s fine. I dropped her off at my apartment.”

  A breath escapes her. “She’s not talking to me because of Tag.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “He’s not a bad guy.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s just a little lost.”

  “I know.”

  “And now he’s gone.” Her eyes finally meet mine. “I gave him some money last night and he was relieved and he left.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah,” she whispers.

  “Is he in trouble?”

  “Probably.”

  “Oh. Is he coming back?”

  She shrugs. “I have no idea.”

  “Why are you here, Wren?”

  “How mad is she at me?” she blurts out.

  “She’s not mad. She’s confused.” Well, maybe a little mad.

  “I should have listened. She knew he just wanted money.” She wipes a finger under her nose and I pass her a tissue. She takes it and blows her nose. “She always was smarter than me.” His eyes meet mine. “She went through so much more than I did.”

  “You should talk about this with her,” I tell her.

  “She won’t answer her phone when I call.”

  “She’s hurt.”

  She heaves out a breath. “I know. He’s gone now, though, so she can come back home.”

  I stiffen. I don’t want her to go back home.

  “Oh, it’s like that,” she says, and then she whistles. “I always wondered what kind of man would be good enough for her. I didn’t think one existed. But then you came along and you took care of her when you didn’t have to.”

  “I like her.”

  She snorts. “You like her?”

  “Yes.” I grind my teeth together. She wants a definition and I can’t give her one. “I like her.”

  “You fucked her brains out and you just like her? Seriously?” She’s suddenly angry.

  “What the fuck is it with you people? Is there no privacy?”

  She shakes her head. “Not within a family. Not much, anyway.” She grins. “Don’t be surprised if Emilio comes to see you. He’s curious about your intentions.”

  “Yeah, so am I,” I admit.

  She smiles at me. “Good.”

  “So, did you really want a tattoo?”

  She nods. “Our mom had a ring with our names engraved inside it. Tag, Jenny, and Jessica. I want a ring with all the names on it, on my inner wrist. Can you do it?” She slaps her hand over her mouth. “I shouldn’t have told you her real name! She’s going to kill me!”

  I laugh. “She already told me.”

  Tears fill her eyes and she blinks hard to hold them back. “She told you?” she whispers.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh.” It’s a sudden exhale rather than a word. Then she steels her spine. “So, can you do it?”

  I nod. “I can, but not today.”

  Her face falls. “Why not?”

  “Because you need to go and talk to Star. I’ll doodle something up for you tonight and we can make another appointment if you like it.”

  “Oh, okay.” She looks disappointed.

  “She’s at my apartment. I’m not going home for a couple of hours, so go.”

  She bends down and suddenly kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  I nod and smile down at the floor. “You know, you could have come to see me without asking for a tattoo.”

  “Oh, but I want the tattoo.”

  I hold up a hand to stop her. “Any of the Reeds could have done it.”

  “Fine,” she says harshly, but then she grins. “I just wanted to talk to you, and I figured I could get to know you while you do the tattoo. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Is Star all right?” she asks. “Really?” She looks at me, her eyes fearful as her lower lip trembles. “She’s been through so much.”

  “You should go ask her.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “Would you just tell me?”

  “Nope.” I bite my lips shut.

  She rolls her eyes. “I think I like you,” she says, shaking a finger at me.

  I hope so because I plan to be a part of her life for however long Star will let me.

  She leaves, and I go out where the guys are all sitting around with clients. Paul is leaning over a guy’s shoulder, outlining a big bird. He inks and swipes, inks and swipes. “Did she leave?” he asks.

  “Yes. She’ll come back another time.”

  “Did she ask you about your junk?” Sam asks. “They always ask me about my junk.” He shakes his head. He’s working on a toe tattoo for a woman. She giggles and he glares at her. It’s funny to watch the Reeds get hit on. They get so offended.

  “No, she didn’t ask me about my junk.” But I got the feeling she wanted to. And probably would have.

  “Those women have no boundaries.”

  “You’re officially their brother-in-law, Sam. You’re part of the family,” Paul tells him.

  Sam snorts. “They were asking me about my junk long before Peck and I were married.”

  “She said Emilio wants to talk to me,” I blurt out.

  “Oh, fuck,” Sam breathes. He presses a finger at the bridge of his nose. “The only time he ever wanted to talk to me, he broke my fucking nose.”

  “Did you do anything to make Star sad? Make her mad? Make her unhappy?” Matt asks.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He shrugs. “Then don’t worry about it. He probably just wants to get to know you.”

  “How was the trip?” Paul asks. “Aside from the wild and crazy sex.” He grins.

  I smile. “It was really good.”

  “Get some closure?” Matt asks.

  “Yeah.”

  Logan goes into the back of the shop. “Is he okay?” I ask.r />
  “He’s fine,” Paul says. “He turned off his cochlear implant for a few hours.”

  “Why?” I look from one brother to another.

  “He gets tired,” Matt explains. “They’re not as easy to use as some people assume. It’s work to hear. Sometimes he turns it off and goes back to the quiet so he can think.”

  I thought people with implants could suddenly hear. I didn’t know they had to work at it.

  “It’s nothing to worry about. He goes back to signing, and so do we.” Paul shrugs. “Speaking of which, we have a new artist starting next week. He’s deaf. You going to be okay with that?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “He doesn’t speak. He only signs.”

  “Oh. So can I just write things down for him?” They grimace at me. “Or is there a place where I can go to learn to sign?” I add as soon as I realize I fucked up.

  Paul smiles. “There is, actually. So glad you asked.” He puts a flyer in front of me. “There’s a class on Saturdays and it lasts for four weeks. It’s just the basics.”

  “Maybe Star will take it with me.”

  “Star already knows how to sign,” Sam points out. “They all do.”

  “Then I need to learn too.” I fold the flyer up and put it in my pocket. “Thanks.”

  “Dude, we’ll teach you the dirty words. They never teach that shit in classes.” Sam chuckles.

  I flip him off.

  He laughs. “See, you’re already good at this.”

  I shake my head and sit down at the light table to start drawing the tattoo that Wren wants. And I start on a design for me, too. Something for me and Lilly and Star. Some closure, maybe? We were bound together before the accident, but now it’s in a completely different way.

  Besides, I need to give Star and Wren time to work their shit out. I glance at my watch. I’ll hang out here long enough for them to talk.

  Star

  A knock sounds on the door and I look through the peephole to find Wren on the other side. “What do you want?” I call out.

  “Open the fucking door,” she calls back.

  I heave in a breath and fling it open. I’m wearing one of Josh’s T-shirts and a pair of his boxer shorts.

  “Nice fashion statement,” she says.

  I slam the door shut behind her. “What do you want?”

  “You’re not answering my texts. You’re not taking my calls. Seriously, Star? You talk to Peck, but you won’t talk to me?” She’s offended. And that’s okay with me, because I’m offended too.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking. Tell me how you feel about Tag being here. Tell me about your weekend. Tell me about Josh. Tell me you fucking love me, Star, because this silent treatment is shit!” She flops down on the couch.

  “You shouldn’t have let him in.” The words burn my throat and my eyes fill with tears. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I know,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  I’m stunned. So stunned that I can’t find the right words. “I am?”

  “Yes,” she says. “He just wanted money. I gave it to him, thinking he would pay off his debts and settle in here, but he didn’t. He left. He’s gone. He didn’t even leave a note. You were right. I didn’t want you to be right. But you were. You were so right.” She groans, flops down flat on the couch, and throws her arm across her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. I sit down on the edge of the couch, the tiny edge she’s not taking up. “I’m sorry he left. I know you wanted it to be more.”

  “He totally conned me. He seemed so genuine. He wanted to reminisce about Mom and Dad and our life in the yellow house. He seemed like he was so good. Hell, he prayed before every meal!”

  I laugh. “Not everyone who prays is good, Wren,” I tell her. “Sometimes they’re bad.” My foster father, the one who hurt me—he prayed too. He prayed I would be forgiven for my wanton ways. I was too young to even know what wanton meant.

  “I wanted it so bad, to connect with him. It was like getting a piece of Mom and Dad back.”

  “Where do you think he went?”

  She sits up. “I have no idea.”

  “How much money did you give him?”

  “Fifty thousand dollars,” she says, and then she groans again and flops back down.

  “Well, at least it wasn’t more than that.”

  She lets out a watery laugh. Then she whispers, “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” I open my arms and hug her.

  Another knock sounds on the door and I open it to find the rest of the Zeroes are here. They tumble into the room. Lark grabs my shoulders and looks me up and down. “He didn’t kill you with his tremendous dick, I see,” she says.

  I laugh. “No. I’m still alive.”

  “And happy?” Fin asks quietly. “Alive and happy?”

  I smile, because I feel like my insides are roiling with happiness. “Very happy. We had a good weekend.”

  Peck has the baby and she passes him to me. I sit down and hold him, tucking my feet under me as I lay him on my shoulder. “God, he’s so perfect.”

  “Isn’t he?” Peck preens and sinks into a chair. She kicks her shoes off. I guess they’re staying for a while. “So, t-tell us everything.” She rests her chin in her upturned palm and waits.

  I tell them about my weekend. They laugh at all the appropriate times and they get teary-eyed when that’s appropriate too. These girls are my life.

  Even with them, though, I don’t go into details. Not intimate details about Josh. I don’t talk about how it felt to have him inside me, or the way he holds me close. I don’t talk about what it’s like to adjust his legs that don’t work, because talking about things like that would be a betrayal of all my feelings for him. It’s one thing to talk about how sore I was after, but that’s a virgin thing, not a Josh thing. I don’t want to share the details about our intimate moments with them because I’m afraid it’ll diminish what I feel about what happened. It was perfect. He was perfect, and he gave me exactly what I needed.

  “He was gentle?” Lark asks.

  “Not really,” I mutter.

  “Oh.” She sings out, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.”

  “I think I might be falling in love with him,” I say quietly. Then I hide my red cheeks in the baby’s warm neck as he lies with his head on my shoulder, sleeping.

  “After a few short days?” Wren asks.

  “Sam showed me the text Josh sent him,” Peck says. “The one asking how long it was before he knew I was the one. It was really sweet.” She points her finger at me. “And it does happen. Just be careful,” she warns.

  “What was his hometown like?” Lark asks.

  “He lived in a mansion,” I admit. “The house he grew up in was huge.”

  “Were you surprised?”

  I rock my head back and forth. “A little.”

  “How did he end up here? In a gang?”

  “That’s Josh’s story, guys,” I say with a wince. He trusted me with it, but I’m not sure he wants everyone to know.

  “I’m really p-proud of you,” Peck says quietly. “Really proud.”

  I’m kind of proud of myself too. “Thanks,” I say.

  The front door opens, and Sam stumbles into the room with Josh right behind him. “Can’t you let her go out without you for five minutes?” Fin teases.

  Sam goes to Peck, plops down beside her and kisses her cheek. “Can’t. Five minutes is too long.”

  Peck glows with happiness. Sam does too. Josh rolls over beside me, locks his wheels, and holds out his hands for the baby. I pass him over, surprised that Josh asked for him. But then again I’m not. “He’s bigger,” Josh says.

  “They do tend to grow,” Wren says snidely. “It goes right along with the crying and pooping.”

  Josh flips her off, and I think I fall in love with him a little more.

  Sam stands up and stretches. He holds out
a hand for Peck and pulls her to her feet when she takes it.

  “Baby’s asleep,” Josh says.

  “Good,” Sam says. “We’re going to go take a nap.”

  He pulls Peck toward the door. I can hear her whispering, “Are you sure?”

  But Sam just takes her with him. “Call us when he wakes up,” Sam says over his shoulder, and then the door closes.

  Josh grins. “Guess someone is getting lucky.”

  Finch snorts. “They can’t even do anything. It hasn’t been long enough.”

  “I meant me,” Josh says. “I get to hold the baby.” He grins and I know, right then and there, that I love him. I just can’t tell him. If I told him, I would be afraid he doesn’t feel as strongly as I do. And the very thought of that scares the hell out of me.

  Fin calls for a pizza delivery and we all take turns holding the baby while he sleeps. He likes to be swaddled tightly, and as long as he is, we can do just about anything with him and he sleeps right through it. Until he gets hungry, that is.

  “You better call Peck,” Josh says.

  Fin and Lark have their bare feet up on Josh’s coffee table, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I call Peck and she says she’s sending Sam down to get him.

  Josh doesn’t want to give him up when Sam gets there, but the little guy is trying to suck on his face and every other piece of skin he gets close to. Sam laughs and says, “This one has a date with some boobies. Lucky little guy.” Then he waves goodbye on his way out the door.

  “Do we have to go home too?” Fin asks.

  Josh knocks her feet off the coffee table and says, “No, but move over and share the couch.” She grins and moves over, and I sit and watch him with all of them and wonder why it took me so long to find this, and why I had to go through everything I did to get here.

  I take out a notebook and start to write in it. We’re supposed to be writing songs for the new album, and I’ve been rambling a little trying to get words on the page.

  “Can I see?” Wren asks.

  I hand her the notebook and she starts to hum. “I like it,” she says. “Even if it is that lovey dovey mooshy gooshy stuff.”

  I grab the notebook back and swat her over the head with it. She laughs.

  “I didn’t know girls could be so violent,” Josh says.

  All of a sudden, four pillows fly in his direction. But he doesn’t look upset by it. He looks happy. I just hope it stays this way.

 

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