by Marie Hall
“Where the hell is Angel,” she growled and my body was breaking out in a cold sweat because it was starting to dawn on me that this could go really, really bad with Zoe.
What if she told her before I got a chance to explain?
“Not like that,” I huffed. My stomach wasn’t feeling so good. It was turning and rocking and churning and heat was sliding back up my throat.
Dammit, I knew what was about to happen. Hadn’t happened to me in years. I’m good with my liquor, but I didn’t usually drink it neat or have so many. I didn’t usually let John throw me off my game this way, and I had overdone it and… and…
“Open the fucking door,” I mumbled, fumbling with the latch on the door.
“I swear if you blow chunks in my car, I will kill you myself,” she snapped and then was reaching over me, opening the door just in time.
I hung my head out the side and it was all coming out. I hadn’t eaten and I was so freaking sick, my head was throbbing and my mouth was burning, tasting like bile and regurgitated bourbon. I moaned as the horrible heaving subsided.
And when it did, the numbness left too, and I was cold and shivering and remembering the look in John’s eyes, the swarthiness of his skin, the fine hairs fighting to hang on to his mostly bald head. Tears were forming behind my eyelids, and I had to choke them down because suddenly it all hurt and I was so damned confused. I hated him and yet seeing him like that… It was one thing to know he was sick, it was another to be confronted with it. To see living proof of the cannibal that cancer is.
The crunch of gravel sounded and then a male voice was there and I heard low but heated words being exchanged, then a sharp, “Follow me. These are his keys, I’ll bring you back to your car later.”
“Jamie, I—” A male voice with a Latino accent entered the car.
“Angel, I’m done. You hear me, done. Now do what I said and follow.” I heard a window roll up and then Jamie smacked my arm. “Wake up, Alex,” she snapped again. “Close my freaking door, get your seat belt on, and tell me how to get you home. You have no freaking idea what a crappy day I’ve had, and this has definitely been the cherry on the shitty sundae.”
Somehow despite my being limited to gestures and zombielike murmurings, she found her way to my house. It was almost an hour later and the buzz had definitely begun to wear off. I’d pretty much thrown it all up at the parking lot, but there was an ache forming in the back of my skull and a lethargy I hadn’t felt in years.
On top of that, I was fully aware of what I’d done. I’d stood her up. She’d never forgive me for that. I wouldn’t forgive me for that. There was no excuse, no justifiable reason for doing what I did, and I knew it was over. Tomorrow that would really hurt, but now… I just didn’t want to think anymore.
When I finally crawled into bed, it was past three in the morning. The house was silent. I couldn’t talk to Ryan, couldn’t tell Lili. I had no one, and it was my own damn fault.
And now that I wasn’t drunk, my hand was back to throbbing like a son of a bitch. I should’ve probably gone to the ER and gotten the damn thing checked out. I wouldn’t be able to sleep with the pain, but I didn’t want to move. My muscles were too soft, my brain too raw… so I sat on the bed and watched the fan and grimaced every once in a while when a lightning jolt of pain sizzled up my arm as I waited for the dawn.
~*~
Zoe
I hugged the pillow to my chest and stared out the window. Xian was snuggling at my feet. I think she knew her momma needed her. Jamie tried to stay up with me—we baked cookies, gorged on ice cream, and did everything we shouldn’t do, including talking crap about guys and how they weren’t worth it.
What happened?
Yesterday at the fair Alex seemed like he wanted to devour me, inhale me, and make me all his. Today, nothing. I’d waited for hours, holding on to hope and looking like an ass when midnight rolled around and I realized he wasn’t coming. Cinderella’s coach had turned back into a pumpkin, and I decided right then and there I was done with him.
After the crap in the car and now this, I came to an inevitable conclusion: Alex could hurt me too much. He was acting exactly like the player I knew he’d been in high school and while my gut told me (hoped more like) that wasn’t the case with me, obsessing like this wasn’t good for my health. I’d gone down this road with Ryko, I wasn’t doing this again. I hadn’t even gone out on a real date with Alex, and I’d never felt worse in my life. This was nothing compared to Ryko. I felt like an idiot for hoping, for believing the man I’d wanted for so long had finally really noticed me.
Of course he hadn’t.
Why would he? He never had before.
Sniffling, I wiped my nose. The tears had come tonight. In great big, ugly bucketfuls. I wished he’d never walked into my shop that day, that I’d never seen him, never recognized immediately who he was. Closing my eyes, I rolled over and decided that tomorrow morning, I’d forget him completely.
The player had played me for the last time.
~*~
“Ow!” My tenth customer of the day jumped. He was sitting on the table, gripping the railing with white-knuckled intensity as he glared at me accusingly. Blood dribbled from the corner of his lip where the large needle had accidentally grazed him.
I sighed. “Listen, are you going to sit still or not? If you keep jerking, I’m never going to be able to pierce your tongue.”
“You cut me.” He grumbled, rubbing the blood off with his thumb.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I counted slowly to ten in my head. I’d woken up this morning with a major headache, not to mention I hadn’t eaten any breakfast thanks to the fact that I’d totally spazzed and forgotten to set my alarm. I was dressed in clothes that should have been washed last night, except I didn’t do it because I was supposed to be on a date, which obviously did not happen.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, rubbing big circles on my back with a thumb. I knew that touch anywhere, had woken up to it every morning for two years.
“You okay, Z?” Ryko leaned over my shoulder, whispering in my ear.
“No, she is definitely not okay. I came for a tongue piercing and her needle is trying to rip through my jaw. She’s already poked me twice.” The guy sneered, eyeing me hard as if daring me to deny it.
Gut starting to brew with the beginnings of a temper, I snapped my gloves off. Standing up, I turned to Ry. “Can you spell me? I need a break.”
I refused to be unprofessional and tell the asshat sitting on my table that it was him and not me causing such drama. Ryko’s brows quirked as he stared between the two of us as if trying to figure out what had really happened.
Slowly he nodded. “Yeah, sure, Z.”
“Good. Thanks.” I figured he’d find out soon enough who was telling the truth.
Tossing the used gloves into the waste bin, I smiled a ghost of a smile at the first loud ouch at my back.
Ryko growled, “Dude, you gotta sit still.”
And that was all I heard, because I was now in the main part of the parlor and some techno crap no one in the shop but Tor listened to was drowning out everything else. Which made me realize Ryko had been spying on me in the back if he’d heard what was going on.
Throwing the peace sign to the latest tattoo shop manager—a busty peroxide blonde named Candy (how original), whom Ryko had hired because she was the latest in a string of girlfriends—I walked out. I needed a ten-minute breather from the shop, from the testosterone, and from all the guys constantly casting me worried glances all day.
What the hell was the matter with everyone today? It wasn’t as if I was wearing a sign that read: Just got stood up by ‘the’ guy.
And yeah, it sucked major. But I was a big girl and I’d get over it. If I was able to get over the shit Ryko had put me through, this was nothing. Maybe if I kept repeating that I’d eventually believe it.
Sighing, I leaned against the exterior of the building and tried to remember I had great f
riends, a family that (while slightly cray cray) loved me no matter what, and a job I loved. Most days.
My phone beeped. I fished it out of my pocket and stared at the screen. Four missed calls, three messages. Three of the four calls were from Alex. My heart clenched as I read his info and for a split second my finger hovered over his number, crazy thoughts filtering through my brain, because for a brief minute I wanted to call him back. Demand an answer, act like the kind of psycho chick guys called clingers and tell him… What? That as ridiculous and silly as it was, I knew it would have been nothing for me to fall in love with him all over again.
Yeah right. Those were the kind of thoughts I didn’t even like to feel in the privacy of my own head, let alone tell the rest of the world about. Growling, I deleted his number and two of the three messages that were his.
I’d told myself last night I wasn’t playing any more games with anybody else. It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Ryko had been such a dick. That he’d given me some serious trust issues with guys and that even though I worked with him and things were sort of weirdly okay now, I could never trust myself to just let go completely again. But I knew with everything inside me Alex would hurt me worse than Ryko ever had. And so maybe that made me a chicken, but at this point, I didn’t really care.
The last message was from Jamie. I clicked on it.
“Zoe!” Jamie shrieked through the line. “Call me. Right away. This is serious.”
Heart trapped in my throat, I dialed the house. She picked up on the fourth ring.
“J?” My anxiety filtered down the line, sharp and cutting. “What’s wrong?”
She growled. “Where is my fuchsia top? You swore you were going to return that to my closet. Where is it, Z? Angel’s coming to pick me up and I’ve got to have it. It’s my sexiest top.”
It took me a second to pick my jaw up. “What? Is that the emergency? Are you freaking kidding me?”
“What?” She huffed and I could just picture her shoving her blunt blond bangs out of her ice-blue eyes. “Of course this is an emergency. I knew you weren’t coming home for hours and I’ve got to find it. He’s taking me to meet his parents and—”
I shoved off the wall. “Jamie. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Meeting his parents. Seriously, you probably shouldn’t go there. Didn’t you tell me you broke up with him last night because he wouldn’t commit?”
“Z.” The way she said my name, hard and cold and slightly aloof, I knew I’d touched a nerve.
But I loved Jamie too much to not say something. “No, I’m not gonna stop it. He does this to you every time. He dangles the carrot, makes you start thinking something’s gonna happen that’s not gonna happen, and then you’re a wreck for days. Dump his ass, J. Please.”
She was silent for a long, long time. Long enough that I pulled the phone away to see if I’d lost connection. “You don’t know him. What he’s been through. I… I…” She blew out a heavy breath. “I have to.”
Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “You’re right, maybe I don’t know anything about him, but only because the only time you tell me anything about him is when he’s dumped you. Again. When I have to pick up the pieces he’s left behind. He’s no good for you, Jamie. Poison kills.”
“No. Much as I love you, Z, butt out. This is my life, and you need to leave it alone. Where’s my shirt?”
Day from hell. That’s what today was. I couldn’t believe she was doing this to me, but maybe I could, because that’s what Jamie did. That’s what everybody did. They ignored me, ignored my advice, told me what to do, but if I ever tried to give them the same kind of counsel, they told me to take a flying leap.
“The shirt is in the bottom of my basket, I didn’t get to wash it because I got stood up last night and completely spaced, or have you forgotten already?” I was panting by the time I finished, but I couldn’t stop the hurt from leaking through. Jamie might call me the Ice Queen, but I felt things and today I felt like a big shit magnet. I clenched my hand into a fist.
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I feel like a heel. I’m just nervous and you telling me to dump him, it was too much. Look, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but Alex called the house this morning.”
I wasn’t going to ask. I didn’t care. I didn’t. Totally didn’t. “What did he say?” I muttered through gritted teeth.
“Just that he needs to talk with you. I told him to call your cell. And now I’m about to turn into a hypocrite, but I don’t think you should. The man has issues, Z, and you know I love you and just want you to be careful.”
I twisted my lips. It’s not like it mattered now, because I’d deleted his messages. Shaking my head, I shrugged. “Well, whatever. Truth is, I really like him. But I’m too old for these games. I want a man who isn’t going to drive me completely out of my head insane with will he or won’t he.”
“Yeah.” Her voice was defeated and I knew, even if she didn’t want to admit it, she was thinking of her and Angel’s situation.
“Anyway, I have to get back to work.”
“’Kay. Bye,” she chirped with her bird peep. The kind of sound she did when there were words to say, but neither of us were willing to keep talking about the subject.
I was just getting ready to shove the phone back into my back pocket when it rang again. “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” filled the alley, a ringtone I’d downloaded for Alex yesterday, thinking it was funny and applicable at the time.
Muting my phone, I went back inside the shop. Ryko dragged me to the side the second I stepped foot inside. Candy was eyeing us hard.
“What?” I hissed.
His big body was crowding me and he smelled good; it was enough to bring a sharp pang to my heart. The cologne was the one I’d bought him for our third anniversary. The last gift I’d ever given him—the next day I’d caught him banging Magenta.
And yes, that was really her name. A thin white girl with bubblegum-pink hair who could bend and twist up like a naughty little pretzel, she’d been the first tattoo shop manager, followed by many, many more since.
“You okay?” he asked, and the clean soapy smell of him mixed with the earthy cologne made me wish I could just pinch my nose shut. I didn’t want to smell him and remember, I just wanted to be left alone.
Pushing him back so that he was out of my bubble, I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine. What’s with the 007 routine?”
Ryko was leaning on his toes; his strategically ripped jeans and Radiohead T-shirt hugged his lean, muscled body. I remembered what the man looked like without clothes on. It’d been permanently encoded into my DNA from the moment I’d first laid eyes on him. He had a rocker build with chiseled muscles, and I’d always had a soft spot for the hard bodies.
But I couldn’t help but compare him against Alex and what had once made my mouth water was now lacking in so many ways. Where Ryko was lean, Alex was packed. Alex dripped muscle, looked like he could play on the university football team, and was nothing but blond all-American good looks. Ryko was the exact opposite. Dark and dangerous and for a while it’d been that danger that’d attracted me, drawn me to him. He’d been exciting and mysterious, but I wanted more now.
Too bad I seemed to have terrible taste in men all around. Because as opposite as the two looked on the outside, the inside was nothing but more of the same.
“Z…” He forked fingers through his hair. “How… are you?”
My brows pulled tight. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I said and gestured around the shop, “there’s a shop full of clients and you’re wondering if I’m okay. What’s going on with you lately?”
His jaw flexed. Grasping my forearm, he opened his private office and pulled me in. “We need to talk.”
I barely had a chance to see Candy’s mouth pull into a tight scowl before he closed the door behind us.
“No, we don’t. We did all the talking we had to do when we broke up. I’m done talk
ing.” I crossed my arms.
“I miss you, Z. Like, a lot. I screwed up, okay?” He shoved his fingers through his cropped black hair, making it spike up, and I had to resist the urge to pat it back into place like I always used to do.
Light stubble dotted his jaw and I was waiting for the inevitable weakening of the knees, the pathetic me to come out and want to baby him and tell him I forgave him. Because that’s what I’d always done with Ry. He hadn’t been cruel to me, but Ryko had never been able to keep his eyes to himself, and at first that’d been fine, but then I suspected there were other parts of his anatomy he hadn’t been keeping to himself either.
“What can I do to make it up? Fire Candy? She’s gone. I just… I need you. I’m not right without you.” He held out his hands in a placating fashion.
Hugging my arms to my chest, heart aching, but not at all because of Ryko, I shook my head. “What are you doing? Why are you doing this? Why now?”
Again the muscle was tensing in his jaw. “Last few days, I’ve seen you happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. I realized I was losing you all over again. Today you’re not happy, and I thought…”
“You thought now was your chance to strike. God, Ry!” I took a jerky step away from him. “You flaunt your skinny little pieces of ass through this shop constantly—you don’t give a damn.”
He shook his head, but I continued on, not giving him a chance to interrupt me.
“Whatever you think is going on in my life, just don’t. We’re not together anymore and as much I like working with you, and believe it or not, I do, you don’t get to know those parts of my life anymore.”
He leaned back on the desk, causing the edge of his shirt to slide up and reveal a lean expanse of colorful, muscled abs. A year ago he’d finally completed the tat on his stomach, a perfect likeness of Dalí’s The Persistence of Memory. “Just tell me this, is it that dude that came in the shop the other night?”
Of course he would have noticed. Ryko missed nothing; it was one of the reasons why he was such a successful tattoo artist—his attention to detail.
