by Nicole James
“Liam, I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you.”
“Not hard enough.”
“Please, you have to believe me.”
“I don’t have to do shit.” He stood, staring down at her.
The photographer, the hair and makeup artists, the lighting guy, the reporter, and Jameson all stood staring, listening to every word.
Jameson shouldered his way forward. “Liam, what are you talking about?”
“Remember about ten years back when you’d barely opened the shop, that woman shook you down for a thousand dollars because I’d tattooed her underage daughter? This is the girl.”
Jameson frowned. “You’re sure?”
“It’s her. I recognize the ink I put on her that day. I just saw it under her arm. I guess I hadn’t noticed it before. That or she’s managed to keep it hidden.” He spun back on her. “I don’t suppose you’d want me to know, would you?”
“Is that true? It was your mother who took me for a thousand bucks?” Jameson snapped.
“I couldn’t stop her. You have to believe me. Please.”
“And you’re in town at House of Ink. Why? The truth this time,” Liam insisted.
“My brother talked me into coming to help him.”
Liam’s brows shot up. “That piece of shit is your brother?”
She nodded.
Jameson glared at her. “He screws customers over on a regular basis. Must run in the family. Your mother, your brother, you… You’re all a bunch of thieving cheats, ain’t that right?”
“No, please, you have to listen to me.”
“Liam, get her the hell out of here.”
“No, Liam, please, please just listen to me.”
“Just get out, Velvet.”
Jameson’s face turned stone cold. He looked over at Ryan and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Looks like this photo shoot is a bust, man.”
“I was just fifteen. I’m sorry. Please, you have to understand—“
“I’m done with you. It’s all been just another joke to you, hasn’t it?”
“No. I swear.”
“You’re not who I thought you were.” He grabbed up his shirt and tossed it at her. “Get out.”
She grabbed his arm. “Liam.”
“If you’ve lied about this, what else have you lied about, or would you lie about in the future?” He yanked his arm free. “I just can’t…” He couldn’t look at her.
“I had no choice, don’t you see?”
He spun back. “I see a liar and a thief. “How could I ever be with someone like that? Someone like you?” He pointed at the door. “Get out!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Out on the sidewalk, Velvet stood in shock. It took a moment for everything that just happened to sink in. Shame flooded her body, quickly replaced by overwhelming pain and loss. Her shoulders shook, and she covered her mouth to keep from crying out the silent sobs that rocked her body. Liam’s flannel shirt that she’d quickly shrugged on did little to protect against the night’s chilly air, and she clutched her arms tightly to her chest.
Everything Liam accused her of, she couldn’t deny. Her brother was conning people, and she had known it. Most importantly, she hadn’t been honest with him about who she was, and she should have, right from the start, when he first approached her that night in the bar of the Excelsior Hotel. Perhaps then she could have explained everything; perhaps he would have listened then. But not now; now he was completely closed to anything she had to say, and hadn’t he warned her that day up in the mountains when he’d confessed how closed off he’d been to relationships for fear of getting hurt?
Perhaps, deep down, she’d known this day was always coming, but that didn’t make the overwhelming aching loss any easier.
She heard the door behind her open, and she turned to see Ryan Kelly stepping out. He approached her and held her trench coat up.
“I brought your coat. You left it inside.” He held it open, and she turned and slipped her arms into the sleeves as he pulled it up over her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she murmured, quickly wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“You okay?”
She shook her head silently and managed to choke out a shaky response. “No.”
He looked uncomfortable and jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry the shoot ended that way.”
She huffed out a breath, her eyes on the starry night. “I’m the one who should apologize. I hope this hasn’t been a waste of a trip for you.”
Ryan moved to stand next to her, studying the night sky as well. “Not at all. We got some fantastic shots. You and Liam have amazing chemistry, and it comes across in the photographs. The fireworks after… Well that proves there are deep feelings between the two of you.”
“There were.”
He looked over at her. “I’m sure there still are.”
She spun on him then, the thought suddenly crossing her mind that this man could exploit everything he’d just witnessed in the article he planned to write. “Please, Mr. Kelly, don’t use that part about them tattooing me when I was a minor in your article. It would ruin their reputation.”
He searched her eyes. “That was quite a revelation in there. And call me Ryan, please.”
“Ryan, I’m begging you, please. I’ve been the cause of so much harm already. If that went public, I…” She extended her arm toward the shop and let it hang there in the air a moment before letting it drop to her side. “I’d never forgive myself.”
“I get the feeling you have quite a story yourself to tell. All you’ve been through—”
She pounded her palm to her chest. “I’m not important. Don’t you see? It’s Liam I don’t want to hurt… At least not any more than I’ve already hurt him. Please, you can’t print it.”
He looked non-committal, and her heart lurched. Oh God, he might actually put it in his article.
“I’ll make you a deal. I won’t include that part if you do something for me.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her lip curled up. Fucking hell, the guy was going to want sex in exchange for keeping silent. He was just another slim ball. “And what would that be, Ryan?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Not what you’re thinking, I swear. I just want you to tell me your true life story… on the record, for an article—about you.”
Her mouth fell open. “You want my story? Why?”
“Because it sounds fascinating. I think it would make an amazing article.”
“No. I can’t, I…” Her voice trailed off, and her stomach dropped at the very thought of putting her life out there for everyone to see.
“It’s up to you. I certainly can’t force you to tell it.”
Her eyes shifted to him. Oh, but he’d certainly use the revelations exposed to him today as leverage to get it from her, wouldn’t he? Hadn’t she been used and exploited her whole life just so other people could make a buck? She huffed out a laugh. Why would she think any of that had changed now? Wasn’t that the recurring story of her life?
But if she didn’t go along with him, could she live with herself when the article was printed about Brothers Ink and it destroyed everything they’d worked so hard to build? Could she do that to Liam?
She knew the answer to that.
Still it irked her that Ryan was using this to his advantage. She lifted her chin and stared him down. “You know. I’ve let a lot of people use me in my life. I’m afraid you’re just another one, and I’m done with that.”
“I’m not trying to use you, Velvet.”
“Oh, really? And why would you be any different? Why would you want to tell my story?”
“Because I feel like it’s probably a really good story. Much more interesting than just a pretty girl with a lot of tattoos.”
She bit her lip, considering. “And if I give you my story, you’ll leave it out about them tattooing me?”
“Absolutely. I have no interest in ruining these guys.”
&nb
sp; Her brow rose. “You’ll tell my story the way I tell it? The truth, no embellishments or omissions?”
“Well, just one omission—the part about Brothers Ink.”
“Let me think about it.”
“Don’t wait too long. The magazine has a deadline, and my flight out of town leaves at noon tomorrow.” He turned and walked back into Brothers Ink.
Velvet’s eyes followed him, peering inside as the door opened for any glimpse of Liam, but he was nowhere in sight.
She turned back and watched a motorcycle roar past and thought of her first ride with Liam. She knew she’d never have another one, and the tears welled up again at all she’d lost. His kindness, his humor, his caring sincerity… she’d lost all of it.
Finally she turned and headed home. Thankfully, Vano was not there.
She crawled into bed, rolled to her side, and broke into tears, sobbing uncontrollably into her pillow.
After an hour, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and tried to call Liam, but he wouldn’t pick up. She dropped the phone on the nightstand with a clatter.
She’d lost him for good, and she had no one to blame but herself. She knew it, but that didn’t make the pain any easier to take. It tore through her soul. In a lifetime of pain and loss, this was the worst she’d ever experienced.
Tomorrow she knew she’d have to pull herself together, pick up the pieces of her shredded life, and move on, but not tonight. Tonight she just wanted to let the pain and tears wash over her as she slipped into a deep dark pit.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Liam strode upstairs to Jameson’s office. He plopped down on the leather couch against the wall, his elbows on his knees, and tore his hands through his hair. He couldn’t believe this was happening. How had everything gone to shit in the span of a few minutes?
The photo shoot had been going so well; he could feel the chemistry between them radiating through the room. He knew the shots the photographer was getting were smoking hot. He didn’t need the guy to confirm it, but he had, telling them over and over that the shots were going to be fantastic.
It had all been so good. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it had all been too good, and everyone knew if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. He shook his head. Hell, wasn’t this exactly the reason he avoided relationships? When they went to hell, it tore his damn heart out.
He stood and paced, ending up at the sideboard where Jameson kept a bottle of fine Irish whiskey. He poured a double shot into a short glass and set the bottle down hard, rattling the other glasses. Downing half of it, he resumed pacing, anger exuding off him.
How could he have misjudged this relationship so badly? How could he have misjudged her so badly? Had he misread every sign?
She’d loved what he loved, she’d gotten his humor, and fuck, the sex was off the charts. Her smile, the light in her eyes, the warmth of her touch when she’d rub his arm or lean in to snuggle against him… Had it all been a lie?
How the hell had this happened? How had he found himself in this position? Had he been blind? He felt like such a fucking fool.
He gulped down the rest of the drink and smashed the glass against the wall.
“Whoa, whoa.” Jameson came up the stairs.
Liam collapsed onto the couch, running his palms down his face. “Sorry, man. Is everyone gone?”
“Yeah.” Jameson pulled a chair over and sat, hunched forward, his head near Liam’s. “You okay?”
Liam looked over at him. “No. I’m not okay. How did this happen? How could I be so stupid?”
“Come on, man; you’re not stupid. She lied to you.”
“I fucking tattooed her ten years ago. How did I not recognize her?”
“That fifteen-year-old chick she was back then is a hell of a long way from the woman who shot those sexy poses with you tonight. Besides, she had shorter, lighter hair, not the long black hair she has now. And I don’t remember her eyes being that fucking blue. I’d bet the shop she’s wearing colored contacts.”
“Why? Has this all been part of another big con?”
Jameson shook his head. “Fuck if I know, but if her brother is running House of Ink, I’m wondering what he’s really up to, because that place can’t be making much. And as greedy as his mother was, I doubt he’s any different.”
“What’s Velvet’s connection? You think she’s after something?”
Jameson huffed out a laugh. “I think she was after you, brother, big time. That chick was into you.”
Liam shook his head. “Had to be part of some act, some play; I just haven’t figured it out yet.”
“You believe her?”
“What? That part about her wanting to tell the truth from the beginning?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why didn’t she?” Liam asked.
“You’re asking me to explain the female mind?”
“I really thought we had something. You know? After all this time I’ve spent avoiding anything serious, I really thought she was it for me.”
Jameson patted his knee. “I’m sorry, Liam. I hate like hell to see some chick fuck you over like this. You deserve better. A lot better.”
“All I can think about was the moment you handed her mother all that money. I let you down, and I felt like such a fool. And now, what do I do? I bring her around again.“
“Let the past go. That’s done.”
“How can you say that? I remember how badly that hurt you. Hell, Brothers Ink almost went under.”
“Liam, it’s over. Now is what’s important.”
“And what comes now?”
“That’s up to you, brother.”
“I’m sorry about the photo shoot. What did Ryan say? Are they pulling the article?”
“Nah. He got a shit-ton of great shots. Don’t worry about it.”
“What about what was revealed to him? I did tattoo an underage girl. That’s fact, Jameson.”
“He promised he wouldn’t put it in the article.”
“Can you trust him?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The alarm on Velvet’s phone went off, rousing her just after sunrise. She rolled to her back, still in her clothes where she’d collapsed in anguish the night before. Although she wanted nothing more than to give into the tears again at the thought of losing Liam, she knew she had to put that aside and be strong. She had to pick herself up and move on. She couldn’t allow herself to break down again.
She had a decision to make this morning.
She stared at the ceiling and debated what to do about Ryan Kelly and his offer. The last thing she wanted was to have her pitiful life story out there for the world to see. She was ashamed of so much of it, but she also didn’t want the reputation of Brothers Ink to be tarnished because of her. She’d done enough damage to them in the past; she couldn’t bear it if she was the cause of any more.
In that moment, she knew what she must do. She’d have to tell her story—her real story, all of it, every degrading piece. And as she reconciled herself to this fact, she realized that getting it all out there was exactly what she needed. Maybe once it was all exposed, she wouldn’t live in shame anymore. Maybe she could purge it from her soul for good. Perhaps that would be the only way she could take back her life.
Velvet got up, took a shower, and got dressed. Then she dug out Ryan Kelly’s business card.
***
Ryan called the airline and changed his flight out to the next day. The magazine would be pissed at the fee it was going to cost them, but if Velvet’s story was as good as he suspected, it would all be worth it.
A tap on the door to his hotel room had him up and crossing the room. He opened the door to find Velvet, and a tightness in his chest eased. He wasn’t sure she’d show. “Hello, Velvet.”
“I’m here,” she whispered. “Let’s do this.”
He grinned. “Come on in, please.”
He indicated the table and
chairs by the third floor window where his recorder was set up. He also had a pad and pen so he could jot down any thoughts or impressions he had as she told her story.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked. “I have soft drinks, coffee, water?”
“Water is fine.”
He got a bottle out of the mini fridge, cracked the top, and passed it to her. Then he took a seat opposite her.
She took a sip and asked, “Where do you want to start?”
He gave her a soft smile and turned on the recorder. “How about at the beginning?”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “I suppose that’s a good place.” She cleared her throat and took a slow deep breath, preparing herself. Then she shocked the shit out of him with her next words. “I grew up in a family of gypsies.”
His brows shot up. “Gypsies? Like, for real gypsies? I didn’t think they still existed.”
Her knee bounced a mile a minute. “They do. We traveled the country, never staying in any town for long, just long enough for my father to pull some cons, get some money, and we’d move on. My father died when I was fourteen. My brother was only a year older than me. He wasn’t ready to take over as head of the family, so it was my mom running the show. She soon proved she knew how to run a con just as good or better than my father. She was a strong woman, and as a widow she honed the tight rein on my brother and me.
“You have to understand, I was raised that men run the family, and women keep the home and children. My mother was especially strict, and she was just biding her time until my brother came of age and took over. In the meantime, she had to take on all the responsibilities my father would have handled. One included seeing to my future. In typical gypsy fashion, she made arrangements for me to marry another gypsy boy from a family in South Carolina—a boy I’d never met. I’m sure she was getting some money out of the deal, some form of dowry. Anyway, we were in Indiana that summer. What she didn’t know was that I’d already met another boy, and we thought we were in love. We were young and stupid, and he had an older brother who knew a place that would tattoo us even though we were too young. Mason got the money, and we went down. He had the guy tattoo our names on each other.
