Tattoo Lust: A Tattoo Romance Collection

by Skyla Madi

  “You just met my family!” I holler at his back.

  Brant makes his way toward me after getting his students out of the water; his tan chest glistens under the water droplets left on his skin.

  “Hey, you okay?” He ducks down so he can see my face. “Screw that guy. He’s a jerk.” He smiles and puts his wet arm around me, leading me back to my chair. “I don’t have another class until eleven—do you want a soda from the machine? My treat.” He sings the last part, and it makes me smile.

  “Fine, thanks.” I wave him off, and when he leaves, I’m alone in the pool area.

  The silence echoes off the walls, and I close my eyes to think.

  What did Sam mean about knowing secrets?

  Does he know things about me?

  “Here you go.” Brant hands me an orange soda and sits on the concrete next to my feet. He places his now-warm body against my leg like a puppy dog, sipping his grape soda in a few complimentary moments of silence. “I don’t like seeing you sad, Livvie.”

  “I told you to stop calling me that. I thought we agreed.”

  He shakes his head, and his sunshine-colored hair falls around his forehead. “Nope. You’re stuck with it. Might as well embrace it, Livvie.” It amuses him when I groan and tug my leg away from his arm. “So that guy from the other night, he was pretty…intense, right?” Brant gulps and stares up at me. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “Jake and I are just friends.”

  He accepts my answer and doesn’t press his luck with any more questions; we sit in silence and make slurping sounds while we drink our sodas. After ten minutes of no conversation, I can tell that he’s bored enough to make up an excuse about checking the locker rooms, and he leaves me alone again.

  The water inside the pool is calm and bright blue. It reminds me of a pool from one of my dreams. My eyes widen as I replay a hot summer day inside my head: my small hands and short legs run around a lush, green backyard with someone chasing me, and I scream in delight as they pick me up and twirl me around. When the strong arms put me back on the ground, I look up and expect to see my father staring back at me, but instead, it’s a man I don’t recognize. Behind him sits a long, elegant pool with bright blue water just as calm as the pool in front of me. The memory is so real that I can feel the warm sunshine on my face and the damp, thick grass beneath my bare feet as the man frowns toward the pool and a woman sits on the edge with a tangled mess of brown hair—like mine—and large sunglasses.

  ***

  “Sabine. Your daughter is home from summer camp.”

  My mom’s lips are chapped and bright red. Her skin looks rubbery and gray; six weeks ago, before I left for summer camp, she looked healthy and bright. Now, she’s a ghost.

  “Hi, Mom.” I wave. “I made something for you.”

  She ignores me—her usual—but I dig inside the makeshift craft bag and pull out a headdress made from multi-colored feathers and ribbons. I take two small steps forward and hold it out for her.

  “Sabine,” Dad warns her. “Take it.”

  Mom’s chapped lips snarl. “You fucking take it. I don’t want that shit.”

  She talks about me like I’m not even here.

  Dad grips my shoulders and turns me around. For as long as I can remember, he’s done this when she’s hurt me, and this is how he eases my pain. Focusing on his steel gray eyes, the sorrow I feel when I think about my mother hating me fades, and his smile warms my heart.

  “Daddy loves you.” He kisses my forehead and takes the headdress from me, putting it on his head and shaking his body comically. “What do you think?”

  “You look fucking stupid. Take that damn thing off, Michael.”

  He ignores her and dances around the backyard with me. I’ve missed our backyard; the summer camp in Wyoming didn’t have the plush, mossy green grass we have here. I missed Dad, too, and I always miss Miss Claudine when I’m away.

  “Where’s Miss Claudine?”

  Dad frowns. “Miss Claudine isn’t feeling well, Lacey. We need to give her time to rest.”

  Mom laughs loudly. “She has fucking cancer, Michael. Tell her the truth.” She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, making her dark hair fall around her sunken face. “It’s better you know this now and he doesn’t put fantasies in your head, Lacey. Miss Claudine is dying. She’s gonna die. We all die someday. I’ll die, Dad will die…you’ll die.”

  Dad sighs and pats my back. “Not for a long time, okay?”

  Mom snickers and puts her glasses back on her face. She wobbles when she stands, and I notice she looks like a skeleton with skin draped over it. This is the first time she’s spoken directly to me in months.

  “Life isn’t gumdrops and lollipops. Life isn’t fair. Remember that.”

  ***

  “Hey, it’s time for you to go, right?” Brant says. I jolt back into the reality where he’s standing over me, his face twisted in confusion. “I’ve been saying your name for like thirty seconds…are you okay? Do you want me to call your mom or dad to pick you up?”

  My head is pounding so hard that there’s two of him.

  I fake a small laugh to show him that it isn’t a big deal. “No, of course not. I’m fine. I just need to take a nap, that’s all.” I don’t allow him any time to bother me with more questions before I quickly wave at him and disappear into the locker room to change. I text Jake to meet me at my house as soon as possible. I’m able to get in and out within minutes, long before Brant even has the time to catch up to me. I notice him in my rearview mirror as I pull out of the parking lot; he shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pockets in defeat.

  When I pull into the driveway, Jake is already waiting for me.

  “What’s wrong?” The fear in his voice is crystal clear. I clutch my forehead and stumble out of the car; Jake catches me before I hit the hard ground. “Olivia? Talk to me…what’s happening?”

  “Headache.”

  He breathes in deep and holds it. “What can I do?”

  No one is home as he carries me toward my bedroom and gently places me on the bed. His long fingers stroke my hair as his quick heartbeat near my chest helps me concentrate on something other than my throbbing head.

  “I have medicine on the dresser. Blue bottle.”

  Jake jumps up and retrieves the bottle, putting a white pill in my hand and snatching the bottle of water on the bedside table. The pill goes down easy, and I know it takes ten minutes to start working, so I start singing inside my head like I always do.

  “Better?” His fingers run through my hair. “You looked like death, Olivia.”

  “It feels like that sometimes.” I crinkle my eyebrows and place my head on his chest. The super-speed rate his heart is pounding feels good against my temple. “I’ve gone blind before when this happens; the doctors all say it’s just part of the head trauma. Eventually they’ll go away.”

  “Seeing you like that scared the shit out of me. Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

  The medicine starts to kick in, and the headache slowly drifts away. There are so many things I have to do. Tell Jake about Sam. Google Jake’s name. Find out my real last name.

  “Jake, I have something to tell you.”

  After pulling me down next to him without warning, his broad arms tighten around me, and my ear presses against his heartbeat again, rapidly growing stronger and faster. “You remember Sam Collins, right?” I wait for his skin to grow hot with rage. “He said some things to me at work today that were really odd.”

  Jake’s voice is breathy and light when he parts from me and finds my eyes. “Like what?”

  “He said he knows secrets about people. He mentioned my family having deep roots.” Jake doesn’t look as worried as I am. “Are they even my family? Maybe I shouldn’t even care.”

  His fingers find a few stray ends of my hair. “Of course you should. They are your family, no matter what you find out.”

  The way Jake touches me is nice. H
is rough and warm fingertips slide across my skin like they know every inch of the map of my body. I find myself reaching toward the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it down and looking at the dark marks of memories on his skin. The tree memory rattled me at first, but once it settled in its home inside my mind, there was no going back. Each time I think about it, it feels real, and for the first time in a long time, I have a memory that I can truthfully call my own.

  “What’s this one?” I run my fingertip down the edge of a partial tattoo that is being hidden by the upper sleeve of his t-shirt. “Is this a bird?”

  He smiles with delight. “That’s a mockingbird.”

  I push the fabric of his sleeve up over his right shoulder blade, and his skin shivers as I graze it with my fingertips. The massive mockingbird reveals itself, and my smile widens with its bold presence.

  “That’s my favorite bird, the mockingbird,” I whisper, watching the goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin where my breath trails upward.

  “It’s fate,” he whispers. His lips find the space where mine are, and he tugs his lower lip into his mouth with his teeth. He finds my chin with his fingers and pulls my face near his. I can faintly smell the cinnamon embedded inside him. “Olivia—”

  “I think you need some sleep.” I kiss his forehead quickly and jump from the bed before he can catch me. “I’m going to take a bath—get some rest.” The bedroom door nearly slams behind me, but I don’t care.

  There’s a bathtub with my name on it.

  Whatever my name really is.

  Chapter Twelve

  Intruder

  Jake’s phone rings, and I hear him answer it all the way from the master bathroom. This is the only bathroom with a large enough tub to stretch out in. My legs feel good soaking in the soapy bubbles around my body.

  His voice is muffled; I can’t make out exactly what he’s saying, but his deep voice carries easily. He searches the house for me and gets closer, his words come into focus, and I hear his side of the conversation clearer.

  “No, everything’s in my name. Nothing is in her name.”

  My body squeaks against the porcelain as I try to lean closer toward the open door to listen better, covering my body with the bubbles in case he finds me and comes barging into the bathroom without notice. We are nowhere near the point of seeing each other naked.

  “I said I’m not doing that. No need to bring it up. I’m not leaving her behind. Meet me at my hotel in thirty minutes.”

  “Meet me at my hotel?”

  He’s in my parents’ bedroom now. His body comes into view, towers in the doorway, and his lips spread into the sexy, wicked grin I’ve come to know him for. I completely forget that I’m in the bathtub—naked. Jake hangs up his phone without saying goodbye and doesn’t wait to be invited inside the bathroom; his boots cross the door frame, and I know that if he doesn’t turn back soon, there’s no telling what will happen. I watch his eyes dim; he’s looking down at me like I’m a wounded gazelle and it’s a hungry lion’s lucky day.

  “I have to leave for a little while.” He bends down to my eye level. “There’s a few things I need to take care of. Can I come back later?”

  I manage to push some of the bubbles over my chest again, trying to cover as much skin as possible. “You go and take care of your business. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You better not go anywhere.” His eyes narrow across the bubbles. Jake realizes that this is all I can give him as he kisses my forehead and looks down at the bubbles covering my body. “You know I can still see right through those, right?” He winks, jumping out of my grasp before leaving me alone in the bathroom and letting me drift off.

  ***

  Sunlight.

  It’s already daylight?

  How long have I been staring at the ceiling? After we ate pizza and unpacked a few boxes with immediate needs in them, Mom and Dad went to bed and Caitlyn left with some people our age that she met when she and Dad got the pizza.

  Me? I didn’t bother putting a sheet on the mattress. I didn’t even bother putting my bed together at all. It got cold halfway through the night—when I heard Caitlyn finally stumble in—so I found a blanket in my boxes. After taking the tags and binding from it, I realize it’s brand new and never been used. It doesn’t have that worn feeling, like my body fits perfectly inside of it.

  I use it anyway.

  The pillow I find is the same way; I’m so exhausted that I don’t even bother caring.

  Until now.

  Ripping through the boxes, everything I pull from them have price tags on them. Bedding, clothing, toiletries, accessories: they’re all brand new. Why would I have all brand new things? Did I not own anything before my accident?

  I have to know why I can’t remember anything.

  My eyes close, and I stand in the middle of the mess I’ve made.

  I’m so alone.

  “Livvie!” Caitlyn screeches. “Are you awake?” She barrels through the bedroom door and frowns at the mess surrounding me. “What the hell happened in here?”

  “Nothing is mine.”

  Her eyes widen. “What do you mean? Those boxes had your name on it.”

  I point to the piles of new things on the floor. “Everything is brand new. Why is everything brand new?”

  She doesn’t hesitate to giggle. “Mom and Dad bought us both brand new things before the move. Don’t you remember?”

  I hate her when she does this. It’s been eleven days since I met her, and I literally have only been able to stand her for a few short moments of it. Where the hell did she come from? She can’t be my sister; she’s nothing like me.

  Is she?

  I don’t even know anything about myself.

  “Livvie? You okay?”

  “Just go away.” I start throwing things back into boxes. When she leaves, I can breathe again. When I started asking questions in the hospital—I only remember two out of eleven of them—no one had any clear answers. They evaded me; nothing made sense to me, and I recognized no one. They told me they’re my parents and my sister, and I have nothing to prove otherwise.

  No memories.

  Nothing.

  It takes a few hours to unpack the room. There’s a lot of yellow in here. Do I like yellow? I gather the tags and take them downstairs to the trash bin in the kitchen. Mom dances with her earbuds in; she’s putting dishes away like a symphony. She notices me and jumps, clutching her chest. “Olivia, you scared me. How long have you been standing there?”

  “Just a minute.”

  “Is your head feeling okay? Any pain I should know about?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Have you unpacked your room?”

  “I just finished.” The tags make a swooshing sound into the trash bin. “I just came down to throw the tags away.”

  Mom quickly smiles. “You can help Dad in the living room.”

  I can take a hint; she wants to be alone. I find Dad in the living room, and he’s unpacking the television and surround sound.

  “Where are all the pictures?”

  He looks up and shrugs. “What do you mean?”

  “Pictures…family pictures. Where are they?”

  “Oh, they’re in a box around here somewhere. Some of our boxes seem to be missing, actually…Hopefully, our pictures aren’t one of them.”

  My eyes narrow. He knows I don’t believe him.

  “Have you unpacked your room?”

  “Yes.”

  Dad nods and scratches his head. “You should find Caitlyn and help her. I’m sure she’s taking her sweet time.”

  Again with the brush-off.

  Brand new things.

  No family pictures.

  People I can’t remember.

  …I’m in trouble.

  ***

  The water starts to cool down about an hour after Jake leaves. The bubbles are nearly gone when someone comes through the front door, slamming things around. The towel I brought with me wraps around
my body snugly, just enough for me to race back to my bedroom. I shut and lock the door before being seen. Whoever came inside has now broken a glass of some sort, and a wave of fear rushes over me.

  If it were my parents, they wouldn’t be making that much noise. Even though Caitlyn gets bratty most times, she wouldn’t be breaking glass without so much as a girlie squeal. And Jake wouldn’t be downstairs—he would be here with me if he had come back already, so my stomach drops when I go through the suspects and find nothing that would make sense.

  Someone is in my house who shouldn’t be here.

  Panic sets in my bones, and I run deeper into my bedroom to towel dry so fast I think my skin is going to rub off. As I quickly dress, I notice my phone on the bed where Jake’s body was lying only an hour or so before. Should I call him? I don’t even know if there’s someone really intruding in my house. It could be nothing at all. Now, someone stomps up the stairs with heavy boots and opens doors just to slam them seconds later, making no sign of stopping or slowing down their search of the house.

  The doorknob of my bedroom moves, and I let out a small squeak. My phone shakes in my hand, and Jake’s number is the last one to pop up.

  “Hey, I’m almost done, okay?” He answers with such charm that it’s hard to remember the terror that could be on the other side of my bedroom door waiting for me.

  “S-S-Someone’s in the house,” I whisper, cupping my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound further. “I was in the bathtub, they came in breaking things downstairs, and now they’re upstairs, outside my door. I don’t think it’s my parents or Caitlyn. Can you come back?”

  Jake’s breath hitches as I hear him start running. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” His voice is hard and angry. “Call the police and have them get to Olivia’s house right now,” he says to someone before shutting a car door and starting the engine. I hear the tires of his Mercedes burn out against the pavement. “Olivia?”