Scars of Silk: A Tears of Ink - Novel

by Anna Bloom

  Nothing about the truth that lurks in a cupboard, skeletons that dance to their own tune.

  But her words meant something. I won’t be able to fight for us. For mum and me. Not if I’m knackered. And this is a fight. It’s a brawl for survival.

  I’m expecting Elijah. Melissa would have tipped him off like she always does when things gets bad and he’ll stand there on my doorstep with a bottle of hideously expensive whisky which we will drink in silence while he tells me to get free, to get away.

  It’s not Elijah.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Dan’s leant against the hallway door. “I'm on my way to Ibiza. Thought I’d make a pit stop on the way?”

  A giggle escapes through my lips, although it’s heavy on the nervous side. “What? Ibiza?”

  He steps up and my breath catches in my throat as his hands slide around my waist, slipping into the grooves I want only him to know.

  When his mouth lands on mine, it’s like my heart will explode. It grows, wider and fuller until it could fill every inch of space in my chest. “Is this a booty call pit stop?” I mumble against his lips.

  “Not quite.”

  He drags me closer as he steps across the threshold into the tiny flat I merely exist in. With every step he brings me to life. My hands are in his hair, against his jacket, pulling at the material separating us.

  I never expected to see him again.

  It was meant to be fun; but now he’s here and I can taste him, I know it’s so much more.

  In his grasp I can sense my salvation and it comes in the shape of wide muscles and patterns of ink.

  I break our kiss, staring into his eyes, my breath ragged, my chest pushing against his. In his gaze I see myself. Us.

  “I think I love you,” I can’t not say it. I can’t not tell him how I feel. I fight against the restraints of my upbringing, against the silence and the secrets and I lay my truths out for him to hear.

  His kiss when it comes back onto my mouth is harder, firmer, and that’s all the response I need to know he feels the same.

  “So really, Ibiza?”

  I’m against his chest. His lips are pressed into my hair, sporadically kissing as his fingers trail along the skin of my back. “That’s up to you.”

  “Up to me how?”

  “I spoke to one of my dad’s old friends. He has shops all over the place. I explained I needed a change, a chance to sort myself out, so he offered me management at his Ibiza shop. His old manager just walked away, and while he wasn’t in a hurry to fill the place, what with it being out of season, he said it was mine if I wanted it.”

  My heart sinks at his words.

  “I wanted to ask if you’d come?”

  I lift to meet his gaze. Seeing him here in my bedroom feels like it should have happened every day of forever, as though he’s always existed in this place, with his lazy smile and swirls and patterns.

  “That’s a big ask.”

  “But you love me. You said it; you can’t take it back.”

  I giggle like a schoolgirl. “I did.”

  His eyebrow arches. “So?”

  As fast and erratic as my heartbeat is, I can’t ignore the sinking sensation in my stomach. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

  He nods slowly and I watch carefully for a shadow to darken his gaze, but it doesn’t come. “How’s your mum?”

  “Still in hospital. He did a number. I think he pushed her downs the stairs; not that she’s admitted it.”

  “You know there are support groups for domestic abuse? When Faith first told me what Aiden had done to her, I looked into all places to get her help.”

  I nod. It doesn’t hurt when he mentions her name now. He’s here with me. Not far from where she lives; but he knocked on my door, not hers. That’s all I need to know.

  “There are shelters she can go to.”

  “I know. But she won’t. The Richards don’t break formation…” I pause, my chest pulling. “Apart from Will. He broke formation once and for all.”

  Dan reaches forward and places his lips against mine; a brief but sweeping kiss that lightens the loaded weight in my chest. “Maybe he did it to show you that you can be free too. Maybe he thought he could help you. Maybe in whatever darkness he was in…” Dan swallows hard and I squeeze my arms around him. “Maybe he wanted to change things for you, but of course he was never to know it wouldn’t work.”

  “Or maybe he was selfish and just left me.”

  He nods. “Maybe that too.”

  “So when is your plane leaving?”

  “Probably never.”

  I peer into his eyes closer, determined to see every emotion written there. My heart races, bashes so damn hard I can’t believe he doesn’t hear it. “What do you mean?”

  “I said Uncle Barry has shops everywhere. I can start tomorrow in his Camden branch.”

  “So you aren’t going to Ibiza?”

  His lips curve at one corner, sneaky and delicious. “Not if you want me to stay.”

  “Oh my.” My words and breath just kind of gush out of me. “Dan.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll be a secret. Your dad has plans for you, blah blah blah.” That curve of his lips grows. “I just know I don’t want this to be a goodbye between us already.”

  “So you’ll stay in London, for me?”

  “If you want me.”

  “Where will you live?”

  In a sudden movement, he rolls me over, caging me under his arms. “Your dad doesn’t visit that often, does he?”

  “Never.”

  His eyebrows lift and his grin is infectious.

  “You can’t be for real.”

  “I’ll always be real for you.”

  His lips slant over mine, his tongue darting into my mouth, and I close my eyes allowing myself to believe for one precious moment that all of this can be real.

  He’s gone when I wake, but his holdall and belongings are still at the foot of the bed so I know he’s coming back.

  I don’t need to see his clothes to know he’ll be back. He promised me with his words and his body.

  Putting on the kettle, I pull a mug out of the cupboard. Turning, I find a note on the other side of the kitchen.

  This herein certifies that you are within the researcher sexy line.

  I snort and shake my head before turning my attention to my coffee. I definitely need coffee; sleep was not on the agenda last night.

  Once I’m showered and dressed in jeans with an oversized sweater, I pull out my laptop. Dan mentioned he found lots of charities that dealt with domestic abuse. Maybe instead of just helping Mum get well and get back to Dad it is time I help her get a new life where she is free. Where we will all finally be free.

  Two hours later, I’m heading down the hospital hallway where I’m stopped by a nurse I didn’t see the day before. “Excuse me, Miss. Are you looking for someone?”

  “Mrs Richards. My mother. She’s in room 17b.”

  “Oh, no. The doctors discharged her earlier when your father came to collect her.”

  It takes a moment for her words to make sense.

  “Oh. That was quick. She still seemed to be suffering from her injuries when I left last night.”

  “Your father assured the doctor that your housekeeper would be home to look after her.”

  Fuck. I struggle to contain the rush of blood in my veins. I should have got up earlier. Maybe I should have slept more.

  “I shall call them now and find out how she is.”

  I turn, my time wasted in travelling to the hospital. Now all the notes I’ve taken from the websites I researched and people I spoke to will be for nothing. I won’t have a chance to talk to her again until the next disaster hits.

  It’s the wrong way to live your life. I know that for sure.

  My phone rings when I’m walking out the hospital doors. “Hey,” I answer Elijah.

  “You okay?”

  “Depends on your definition.”
/>
  “Need me to do something?”

  I sigh and stop walking. “Set up a secret life for my mother so we can squirrel her away like in the movies.”

  “Are we talking sleeping with the enemy or that creepy film with Harrison Ford?”

  “I think we are talking more Stephen King here.”

  “I’m sorry, Si.”

  “It’s not for you to be sorry for. It’s me. I just don’t know how to end it all.” I close my eyes to stop the tears from stinging.

  “Look. Give me a day or two. I’ve got an idea.”

  “Does it involve me running away? Because honestly, that’s what I want to do."

  One word circles around my brain. Ibiza.

  It’s a word I can’t contemplate until this is sorted. Until I’m truly free.

  “You can’t run away. You know I can’t keep up my lawyer pretence without you doing all the hard work behind the scenes.”

  I snort. “You speak such bollocks. How's Faith? How did she react to the lack of evidence I found?”

  There’s a pause and I groan.

  “Eli, you did tell her? You have gone home?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You’re being a bastard.”

  “I know.” He sighs down the line. “I know and believe me it’s hurting me more than I’d like to admit.”

  “So stop being an idiot.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Are you coming into the office?”

  “Do you need me? I could do with the day off.”

  “Granted.” He pauses for a second. “Listen, Si. I’m your oldest friend, and I will say this one last time.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you ever thought maybe you should just leave them all to it? That maybe your mum’s choices are just that. You can’t keep giving up your life to protect her.”

  “What sort of daughter would I be if I did that? I’d be no better than Will.”

  “You’d be happy.”

  My mind skitters to last night.

  “Bye, Elijah.”

  “Think about it.”

  “Go home, Elijah. Stop being a dick.”

  He hangs up and I smile a little to myself. Can I do what he says? Can I just leave my mum to make her own choices?

  I don’t get the train back to the flat, nor do I get my car and go to my parents' home. Instead, I get the tube to Camden and search through every tattoo shop until I find the one I want.

  “Can I help?” The girl behind the counter smacks her gum. Jeez, she’s hot in a way I did not pull off when I played receptionist for Dan. Her hair is pink; her clothes denim and leather, and tight. Pale skin, ink, and tattoos make her stand out.

  I pull at my baggy jumper regretting my wardrobe choices.

  “I’m looking for Dan. Hoping he can fit me in.”

  She tilts her head, her gum smacking again as she evaluates me. “Dan, you’ve got a late walk-in.”

  He walks in to view, and my mouth dries a little as he sweeps his dark gaze over me. “Alright, darling? What can I do for you?”

  “I want a tattoo.” I raise my chin.

  “No chance.”

  The receptionist twists her gaze between us.

  “You can’t turn me away. I’m a paying customer.”

  He steps closer, lowering his head to murmur against my ear. “I can and will. I’ve told you what I think about that.”

  Fuck, he’s such a turn on. I literally melt with his body close to mine. “I’ll pay the next available artist then.” I raise my voice. “Two thousand pounds to have a tattoo done this afternoon.”

  Numerous heads raise from stations.

  I know how much tattoos cost.

  Dan's eyes narrow. “A word please.” He grabs my hand. “What are you doing?” He hisses as he wheels me into what must be a break-out area.

  “I’ve come for a tattoo. Are you going to be the one to give it to me?”

  He bites on the inside of his mouth. “I told you; you are perfect the way you are. You don’t need ink.”

  “But I want it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it will be the one thing my father can’t control.”

  His gaze flickers with annoyance, but I know I’ve got him on this one. He won’t say no now.

  “Fine. In the chair.” He leads me back out into the parlour and guides me to what I guess is the chair someone has given him. I smile as I settle back until he lowers closer to my face, his lips brushing my earlobe. “Believe me, you’ll know about this later.” His words are only meant for me to hear but if he thinks I’m going to be sorry I can assure him, I won’t. His whispered promise scorches me alight and I know for one I won’t be able to wait for him to get home. “What do you want? Do you have any idea?” He cocks an eyebrow.

  “Something that will remind me to fight for the things I love.” I stare at him and for a long moment we watch one another.

  “Happy for me to go free hand?”

  I nod and lay back in the chair. One thing I know is that I trust him like no other. Now I just need to fight for him.

  Seventeen

  Dan

  I buzz on her door. Although I only finished her ink an hour ago, I needed to stay behind and clear up. Mainly, I wanted to make sure I gave a good impression. I could be here a while.

  It’s a comedown being an employee as opposed to the owner, but in a way it’s refreshing. Throughout the whole day I felt lighter, free. All I have is my head down and work, taking one job at a time. No need to worry about the books, the bills, setting the alarm, all of it. I could just stroll out and head home.

  Not home.

  Her.

  She opens the door, a sheepish expression on her face.

  “I hope that fucking hurt.” I growl.

  Pink tinges her cheeks but she lifts her chin. “Nowhere near as much as I thought it would.”

  I’m cross I’ve marred her skin of silk for life. That’s it. She’ll have that on her until the day she dies, will always have something I’ve done marked on her skin until she draws her last breath.

  I never realised that before today. All the many, many tattoos I’ve done, and not until today has the impact of my job ever sunk in.

  “Show me.” My voice is tight and deep. I want her. Now. But I need to know I’ve not fucked-up first.

  She turns and drops the silk shirt she’s replaced her jumper with down at the shoulder. It’s fine; actually I’d say it’s one of my best works. On her left shoulder is a Celtic cross emblazoned in a shield of flowers.

  A warrior desperate for freedom.

  Her words in the salon reminded me of that movie that always made Faith cry. William Wallace and his cry of, “For freedom.”

  She turns back towards me. “Happy?”

  “No.”

  She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and near on undoes me.

  “Drop the shirt.”

  Her eyes light with desire, a spark flickering in my direction. Slowly, she undoes it never taking her gaze off me.

  “And the jeans.”

  Without a word she does as I wish. Until she’s just in her white silky underwear

  “Come here.”

  She does, walking into my embrace. My hands are on her skin, smoothing over it the way I’d wanted to the whole time she’d laid on that chair at the shop.

  I search over my shoulder for her lounge, her sofa, and then guide her towards it. “This flat is like a morgue. Where are all your belongings?” On the sofa, I drop my lips onto her neck, brushing them up to her ear, watching as the exposed skin on her throat puckers with a rush of goose bumps.

  “I don’t have any.” She gasps as I pull on her earlobe with my teeth.

  I almost stop then; the game doesn’t seem fair the more I realise just how lonely and broken she is. But she sighs into the air and I know she wants me to own her, wants me to make her pant as she comes.

  She wants me.

/>   “On your knees.”

  She turns, a dangerous grin flitting across her face. She’ll be the end of me, I’m pretty sure of that. She’ll break my heart and it will be the end of everything.

  I pull on the waistband of her knickers with one hand while my other frees my erection from my jeans and boxers.

  She’s wet already. I can see her lips glistening with her desire as I push down her underwear. I don’t bother with foreplay; I just edge myself into her tight space as she widens and absorbs me to the hilt. She groans out loud and I rock deep inside her, my hand running down her spine, palming her with a gentle pressure until she’s face down onto the arm of the sofa, her arse high in the air with me buried deep inside her.

  From this angle she’s looks like perfection, and that ink I etched onto her skin shines back at me as I give her everything I have and she meets me with all she is.

  Later, she’s asleep on the bed, her dark hair splayed against the white sheets. I stretch from the tips of my toes. It’s been a fair while since I put in a decent day’s work. It feels good.

  I slink myself around her, pulling her tight into my side. “Why aren’t you asleep?” she whispers.

  “I’m looking at you.”

  “Weirdo.” She grins sleepily, her breathing softly returning to low and deep, steady inhalations.

  Closing my eyes, I try to sleep, but I’m restless; caught between what the future might bring and old memories best long forgotten. Too many thoughts all at once. Every so often I glance at her tattoo.

  She’s like a drug I can’t stay away from. The hit I wanted from my dad’s painkillers but never received. She’s the rush of the fight that never arrived with every punch that landed.

  I’m sure that by some fluke of happenstance this girl I was never meant to meet is everything I need.

  I kiss her shoulder, breathing in the faint hint of perfume on her skin, warm and musky.

  When the phone rings, I reach for mine, but when the screen's still dark I realise it’s hers. Ignoring it, I settle back at her side until it rings again.

  “Sienna, your phone.” I nudge her but she bats me away. Sitting, I reach across to the bedside table and pick up her phone, my breath catching when I see Elijah’s name flashing on the screen.