Kickflip

by Christina Lee

  I only once attempted to ask him what made him so fearful the other night before he shut me down, so I didn’t want to keep pushing it. I didn’t understand how Jude was linked to the Disciples, and he wasn’t budging on telling me anything. I also noticed, and sometimes only heard, that Smoke seemed to be patrolling Jude’s vicinity on his bike.

  Today I had a full day at Raw Ink, and Jude was scheduled for his final tattoo appointment. I was feeling kind of bummed because it had become an enjoyable time for us together. Behind closed doors. Something we hadn’t experienced nearly enough.

  We’d shared some heart-stopping intimacy, but that was all it was—brain-melting moments in time. And I wasn’t sure if you could string together moments to create any sort of relationship. No matter how much I desperately wished for that chance.

  He was my second-to-last appointment of the day. The tattoo on his back was really shaping up to be something striking. The branches ghosting out in different directions were as forbidding as they were breathtaking—just like Jude.

  He lay on my table in the usual position, gazing at me while I worked. There was more of a gentle effortlessness between us now. Depending on the topic, I wasn’t wrenching answers from him any longer.

  And there was a winging in my chest upon hearing his voice. Every single time.

  “Is this a tree from your childhood?” I asked. “Maybe from the land you mentioned?”

  He nodded, his lips quirking into a grin. “I was born in a cottage in the English countryside. A small village called Pickering in North Yorkshire.”

  Yorkshire? I felt a niggling deep in my gut that I couldn’t quite shake. Something about it felt off. Strange. Jude’s last name was York, after all.

  “My sister enjoyed watching me climb it,” he said, his gruff voice now laced with sorrow.

  “Sounds like a good memory,” I mumbled, still trying to fit all the pieces together.

  “One of the last times I remember being happy.” His chin quivered, his voice barely above a whisper. “And innocent.”

  He shut his eyes on that statement, and melancholy clawed at my chest.

  “Jude…” I gave his skin a break from the needle and shifted toward him. He inhaled a breath and opened his eyes.

  “Does your sister live in the States?” I asked as my fingers squeezed his shoulder.

  “She was quite ill,” he said, his voice cracking. “Cystic fibrosis.”

  My stomach seized up, and without him even expressing it out loud, I knew his sister was no longer in this world. Fuck, had Jude experienced a shitty life.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Is that why you guys moved here?”

  “A fresh start, at least at first,” he said in a morose tone. Then he took a fortifying breath as if to gather the pieces of himself. “After my sister passed, my mum took more trips to the city when the memories got to be too much. She was a seamstress and enjoyed one of the fabric shops in Leeds. That’s where she met an American businessman.”

  “Your stepfather?”

  His lips drew together in a tight line.

  Jude was sharing himself with me, and for that I was grateful, but I knew how this story ended, and the idea of it made me gloomy and miserable.

  “I’d just turned fifteen when they decided to marry and move us to Los Angeles.”

  “That would be quite a culture shock,” I pointed out, and he quirked an eyebrow as if to say understatement. “What kind of business was he involved in?”

  “He said he was an investor. Mostly restaurants and bars.” His eyes darkened to a stormy green. “He was always smartly dressed, busy on his phone, taking meetings all while wooing my mum.”

  “Did he woo you too?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “He seemed a bit too polished. But Mum had a spring in her step again, and it all sounded well above board, at first.”

  I stared at him, waiting for the fallout. “So none of it was true?”

  He shrugged, but the gesture didn’t match the bleakness in his eyes. “Plenty of it, sure.”

  “And the rest?”

  “A load of shite. If you could only imagine,” he replied, practically spitting out the words, yet still careful not to reveal too much. “Turns out he was a ruthless businessman. Totally took the piss out of people and got what he wanted, even from us.”

  “Fucking hell,” I whispered, and saw the light extinguish in his gaze. His eyes had transformed to flat jade orbs, and he’d gone off somewhere in his own head.

  “Hey.” Before he shut me out completely, I attempted to ease us in a different direction. “How about you tell me about another happy moment in your life? Before—”

  “My first time on a skateboard. There were these rolling hills,” he replied, a slight glimmer returning. The daredevil. “It was my escape when we moved to California.”

  I could almost picture him on the streets of LA or the boardwalk along the beach.

  “My mind retreats into some sort of zone as soon as my feet hit the deck.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “With your art?”

  “Uh-huh, except I kind of lost myself a bit along the way the last couple of years.”

  He nodded in understanding, and I felt in tune with him. In harmony. And it was completely invigorating.

  “I can remember another cheerful time,” he said with a smirk.

  My fingers still rested on his shoulder, and I gave it another squeeze. “Yeah?”

  His head tilted to the side. “When some crazy-arse tattoo artist is talking my ear off because he can’t put a sock in it.”

  My breath caught in the back of my throat, and I nearly toppled off my stool. “Are you admitting you like being around me?”

  His cheeks streaked pink, and he looked away, seeming so young and innocent. “Maybe when you’re not talking rubbish.”

  “Best be careful, I’m holding an arsenal of needles,” I said, and he laughed. Fuck, I loved that laugh. “Besides, I’m able to keep my lips sealed more when I’m with you.”

  “Is that you confessing something?”

  “Yeah, guess so.” My body became still as I thought it through. “When you’re around, that quiet inside me doesn’t feel so lonely.”

  His eyes softened, and there was so much longing in his gaze. I wanted to reach for his hand and walk the hell out of here. Take him somewhere private so we could get to know each other better. Forge a deeper connection. Not having that opportunity was killing me.

  “Jude,” I said, moving closer. “I wish we could—”

  There was a knock on the door, and Emmy entered the room. “Food was delivered. I’m just going to leave your sandwich here.”

  As she turned toward the door, I noticed she kept her gaze cast downward and her eyes were red as if she’d been upset.

  “Hey, wait.” I stood up and moved toward her. “Everything cool?”

  “It’s Patch,” she whispered, and her shoulders slumped. “Remember the family that’s been visiting with him? That boy you said is too rough with him?”

  “Yeah,” I said, and when I glanced at Jude, his arms were propped up and he was paying close attention.

  “They had a visit in the playroom today, and according to Travis, the boy got rough and Patch nipped at him.”

  “Damn. Bet the family went crazy.”

  “The mother filed a formal complaint and said they weren’t going to adopt.” She shrugged. “Since this is Patch’s second incident, he’s been placed on the list.”

  I knew the exact list she was referring to.

  “How is it the second incident?” I asked.

  “When he first came in last year, he bit a worker who approached his bowl while he was eating. He’s an abused animal; they can get territorial.”

  Patch seemed like such a mild animal in comparison to a dog like Chopper. But he was skittish too, so maybe if he felt threatened, he retaliated the only way he knew how. “Damn, Emmy, I’m sorry.”

 
; “If they can’t find the right fit in the next few weeks, he’ll have to be euthanized.” She bit her lip to hold back tears, and I pulled her into a hug.

  “Don’t worry,” I whispered, momentarily forgetting that I was in a tattoo appointment with Jude. “It’ll all work out.”

  “I don’t see how,” she said, pushing away from me. “It seems like an impossible situation.”

  My heart clenched. I knew how much that dog meant to her. Emmy and I were alike in a lot of ways—we had no siblings and were raised by our grandparents. The exact reason we connected on a different level.

  “Maybe it’s time you started looking for a place to live on your own,” I said. “So you can adopt him.”

  “Right now I don’t have enough money saved for first and last month’s rent. I’m working on it, but until I graduate and get a decent job, not sure I can afford it.”

  “Maybe you could stay with Jessie?”

  “We already talked about it, but her landlord doesn’t allow pets either.”

  “How about I take him?” The idea rolled off my tongue too easily. What the hell was I even saying?

  Her jaw dropped. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “You’re the sweetest guy.” She gripped my hands. “But Chopper and Patch don’t exactly get along.”

  She was right; I hadn’t thought it through. “Let me think on it and finish this appointment with Jude. We’ll talk about it again later.”

  Once she closed the door behind her, I walked back to Jude’s table, lost in thought.

  “You like to take on others people’s problems,” he said.

  My jaw ticked. “Is that how you see it?”

  “Seems you already inherited a dog that’s a pain in your arse.”

  “Can’t help it.” I sighed. “She’s a good person.”

  “You’re a good person too.”

  I stared at him a long while and then fired up the machine, noticing the time on the clock. “Thanks.”

  The silence became deafening while I considered how I might take on another dog. And also when I might see Jude again after this appointment. Everything felt impossible, and the frustration bubbled up in my chest. “Did you ever figure out what that noise was the other night at the shop?”

  He shook his head. “Could’ve been nothing.”

  “You sure about that?” I gentled my voice. “I’ve already been seen with you, Jude. I’d like to be able to decide some things for myself.”

  His eyes widened. “The club’s got your back.”

  “The club?” I remembered Smoke outside that night and pretty much everywhere lately. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It’s just…you’re already under their protection. Because of me. This is exactly why I didn’t want—”

  “Damn it, Jude, what are you involved in?” I said before I could tame the words bursting from my lips.

  His face turned red, and his knuckles tightened. “Is that what you think? That I’m doing something illegal?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” I said, trying to control my voice and my emotions. “You tell me your mom is dead and your stepfather had something to do with it.”

  He pounded his fist into the table. “I never told you that.”

  I threw up my hand in frustration. “It wasn’t hard to guess.”

  He sat up suddenly, fear evident in his eyes. But we’d gotten this far, and I needed to know the rest.

  “Is he affiliated with the Disciples in some way?”

  “He’s…had some past dealings with them.” He swallowed roughly and shook his head, the words emerging slow and uneven. “But now he’s more an enemy. The club doesn’t trust him.”

  I rolled that information around in my brain. “And you came to this town to seek their protection?”

  He shut his eyes tight, as if regretting this conversation. Maybe even regretting meeting me. “Something like that.”

  “Goddamn it, why do I have to play guessing games with you?”

  “Because I don’t want to put you in danger,” he bit out, “simply from associating with me.”

  “It’s too late. I’m already involved.” I gritted my teeth. “Are you saying your stepfather will come here looking for you?”

  “I haven’t seen him in six years. Malachi thinks it’s unlikely.”

  If the Disciples didn’t think so, then why was he under their guard? Unless they were covering their bases, just in case.

  “But I know that fucking bastard. I lived with him…was forced to do his—” He bolted up, his breath coming out in hard gasps. “I need to go.”

  Alarm arose in my chest. “We haven’t finished your tattoo.”

  He stopped in the middle of the room with his shirt dangling from his fingers.

  “At least let me bandage you up,” I said in a soothing tone, trying like hell to bring it down a notch. I knew there was no use pushing him further. We were done. Probably for good.

  Sadness sat like an enormous burden on my chest—for Jude, for us, for what he’d endured. So much so that he was constantly running and in fear for his life.

  As soon as the wrap was applied, he tugged on his shirt. “I’m sorry,” he said and left without a backward glance.

  22

  When Jude fled the tattoo parlor the other day, it was a reality check. It forced me to take a step back and truly consider the enormity of the situation. Jude was in danger, had been for years, and he was hiding out here, under the protection of the Disciples.

  What did I really think was going to happen with this guy? Relationships were tough enough without having to constantly look over your shoulder.

  Jude was so hot and cold with me anyway. It would be one thing if he was asking me to stick around and work toward something, but at every turn he was pushing me away. And maybe that was part of the allure. The fact that he was so mysterious and unavailable.

  But given what he’d told me about his stepfather, it seemed his physical scars came with some heavy emotional baggage. How could they not? Maybe that had everything to do with why he continually broke away when we got too close.

  I had gotten off early, so I decided to get my head on straight by going for a long ride on my bike. I hadn’t done so in weeks, maybe even months, and it was something I’d always enjoyed. I snapped on my helmet and motored onto the street. I turned left at the light, knowing I needed to ride the length of Clifton Street to get to the freeway entrance.

  The heaviness in my chest was already lifting as I drove closer to the marina. Just two more lights and I’d be on the expressway. My foot faltered on the brake when I spotted Jude standing at the crosswalk with his backpack and tackle box. In that split second, I decided to acknowledge him only with a tip of my chin and keep on cruising.

  To my surprise, his lips tilted in a smile like he was happy to see me, relieved even. I lifted my hand in a low wave, and as I motored past him, his forehead grooved in disappointment. In my side view I saw him motion to me, so I pulled into the second driveway of the marina to circle back around.

  I pulled alongside him on the curb. “What’s up?”

  “I just… I haven’t seen you around.”

  He’d noticed I’d been staying away. I hated that it brought me comfort and relief.

  I shrugged. “You ran out on me, so…”

  He looked so conflicted that I actually felt bad I wasn’t being friendlier.

  “I’m sorry about that, Cory. I’ve never shared any of that with anybody before. And I don’t like when you—”

  “When I pry too much?” I asked, unable to hold back my sarcastic tone. “How could I not be curious? Anyone would be.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.” Weariness etched across his features. “I was trying to say I don’t like when you’re frustrated with me.”

  That completely threw me for a loop. My fingers squeezed the handlebar until my knuckles turned colorless. In his own way, Jude was
telling me that he cared. He’d already given me pieces of himself, and I wanted to keep them safe. Keep him safe. But he wasn’t allowing me to do that, and that left me unsettled and confused.

  I stared at him, unsure what to say at this point. I didn’t even know where we stood.

  “Am I holding you up?” He motioned to the road. “Where are you going?”

  “Just for a long ride. To try and clear my head.”

  “Want some company?” he asked, his eyes soft and hopeful.

  He was reaching out to me, and that gesture was hard to resist. “Sure.”

  He breathed out in relief. “Give me a minute to drop these home, have a wash, and get my bike out.”

  “I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”

  I watched him walk across the street, heading toward home. Then I parked my bike near the kayak launch and strolled toward the water. I heard a motorcycle engine in the distance and looked up, wondering where it was coming from.

  Jude’s words about protection from the club echoed back at me, and I decided right then and there that if Jude was unwilling to share himself with me, then I couldn’t offer him anything more than a tenuous friendship. That added extra weight to my chest, but I needed to keep some dignity and show myself that respect. Besides, friendship was better than nothing.

  I took a few minutes more to stare at the water’s edge, and then I hopped on my bike to head to Jude’s. As I rolled up his driveway, a curtain swung back in place when I passed his neighbor’s house. I wondered if his landlord watched out for him too. I recalled Vaughn’s words that Jude was finally safe.

  Jude was wheeling his bike from the garage. He had slipped into a pair of jeans and black motorcycle boots, and damn, he looked good. He grabbed his helmet and snapped it under his chin.

  “Do you like to fish?”

  I’d only been a couple of times and kind of hated it. The waiting, the stillness.

  “Too quiet for you?”

  “Smartass,” I said, but he didn’t laugh.

  “I was being serious.”

  “Think you got me figured out?”

  He winced. “Sort of.”