Hot Ink: All 3 Tattoo Shop Romance Books + 2 Exclusive Bonus Stories

by Melissa Devenport

  Rone looked bad. It looked like he’d just been hit by a bus. No, that was too cliche. It looked like he’d been beaten into a bloody pulp by the rage machine that was her brother. Jay. His best friend.

  Walking back into the living room, hands full of a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth and a few ice packs she’d found in the freezer, Heather wanted to weep all over again. She literally felt sick as she stared at the wreckage of Rone’s face. Both his eyes were nearly swollen shut. Blood trickled from cuts on his forehead and his scalp. His lips were torn and bloody. His jaw was already blackening, as were his cheekbones.

  If the external damage was that bad what did the inside look like? She just prayed that her brother hadn’t done something to Rone that was irreversible. Rone could press assault charges. Her brother might go to jail for this. Because of her. Because she wanted Rone. Because she loved Rone. It was her love that had put him here. It was because of her that he looked like he did.

  “Rone?” She sat down gently on the edge of the couch next to him. His breathing was shallow, as though it hurt to even let air in and out of his lungs. It probably did, judging from how Jay had pummeled Rone’s chest and torso as well.

  His head turned towards her and she let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t unconscious then. She wrung out the washcloth and began to dab gently at the dried blood on his forehead. She steered away from the cuts, which were just closing over, not wanting to reopen them. She wiped the blood out of his swollen eyes. His nose was swelled up too, though it didn’t look broken. It wasn’t gushing blood at least. She dabbed at his raw lips next before she moved onto his cheeks.

  When she wrung out the cloth, she gasped at the bloody water in the bowl. It was such a bright, angry red.

  “That good, huh?” Rone rasped.

  Heather choked back the sob threatening to tear loose from her throat. She swallowed hard and forced a calmness she didn’t feel.

  “It’s pretty bad,” she admitted. “Do you think anything’s broken? Should I take you to the hospital?”

  Rone’s response was instant. “No. If you do, they’ll call the police.”

  “Jesus. This is such a mess. I’m so sorry. For everything. This is all my fault.”

  He reached out blindly, searching for something, anything. She gripped his hand and placed it on the side of her face. Her tears streamed down, soaking his fingers.

  “Don’t say that,” he rasped. The words were odd sounding, slurred through his swollen mouth. “This isn’t your fault at all. You aren’t to blame for Jay’s anger. I knew what the consequences would be right from the start. I’d do it all again. A thousand times.”

  His words cut her to the quick. She didn’t want to break down and weep. She knew that wouldn’t make anything better. She just couldn’t stop the tears. Thankfully they poured down her cheeks in silence. She slowly removed Rone’s hand and placed one of the ice packs in his palm.

  “I don’t know where you want to use this. It’s pretty inadequate right now.” Rone lifted the ice-pack to the right side of his face. She had one more so she held it to the other side, right near his swollen eye. “I don’t want to freeze your skin. Maybe I should get a towel from the kitchen to wrap around them.”

  “It’s fine,” Rone tried to assure her. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. She waited, every single muscle horrible tense. She felt his pain. She ached for him.

  “Why didn’t you fight back? I know you could have kicked Jay’s ass, or at least given as good as you got.”

  He shook his head then winced. “I didn’t want that,” he rasped. “It wouldn’t solve anything. This way, maybe he got it all out.”

  “I broke your lamp…”

  A sound, something close to a horrible gurgling laugh emerged. “I don’t give a shit about the lamp.”

  “I doubt Jay will forget that any time soon. Maybe he’ll think twice before he comes in here like a maniac.”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Oh, Rone, I’m so sorry!” Heather said again. She couldn’t stop herself. She knew she couldn’t keep apologizing, but she didn’t know what else there was to say. “Rone is your friend. He’s like a brother to you. I can’t believe he did this. I thought he’d see reason if I talked to him. I thought he’d understand. Worst of all, he said those things… I’m sorry for him. That he said what he did. He had no right…”

  Rone made that half moan, half horrible strangled groan deep in his throat again. He turned to stare at her, though he couldn’t see her at all. She could hardly stand to look at his poor face, but she made herself keep her gaze trained there.

  “Heather…”

  She knew what he was going to say. She shook her head. She had one hand holding the ice-pack in place on his eye and cheek, but she moved the other and set it gently on his jaw. “No. Don’t say anything. You don’t have to explain. Those were your secrets. That’s your pain. Jay had no right-”

  “I thought I was everything he said for such a long time… weak- disgusting- broken.”

  The ache in Heather’s heart was so painful she actually wondered if it was possible for it to stop beating. Could pain like that kill a person? She certainly felt like she was dying. Her entire body ached. The tears, endless tears, rained down her cheeks.

  “I didn’t know, Rone. But if I had, it wouldn’t have changed how I felt. It doesn’t change how I feel now. You were just a kid-”

  “I swear nothing happened. He came into my room once. Put his hand under my shirt… he- fuck- he caressed my skin there. Touched my- my- nipple. I shot out of bed and got around him. Ran out of the room. I went to the kitchen and took a knife out of the drawer. I said I’d kill him if he ever came near me. I lit out of there, still holding that damn knife. I went- to the only place that I knew was safe. Your- your house. Your mom- took me in. She called the cops. They threatened to take me away from my mom, but she fought for me and got me back. That’s why I was at your house for so long. She said it would never happen again. It didn’t… not that- but- what Jay said was true. She was always on something. Never could get clean. Always- drunk. I used to- clean her up sometimes-”

  “Oh god. You should never have had to go through that. I knew your mom maybe didn’t have it together. I knew she drank a little here and there, dated a few guys… I just- didn’t know how bad it was. How could you have grown up like that?”

  She had the feeling Rone tried to smile right before he coughed. The sound was deep and wracking and alarmingly, a thin line of pink spittle formed on his lips.

  He turned his face back to hers and if he’d been able to open his eyes, she knew the pain would have been obvious in their deep, liquid depths. “How did I survive? I had you. You and Jay and your family. You saved me. You made me a part of your home.”

  A wave of sorrow swept over her, ripped through her, cut off her breath. If she was standing, she knew her legs would have given way. She couldn’t help herself. She knew she was hurting him, but she couldn’t stop. She moved, edging into Rone, draping herself over him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held her face there, close to his.

  His raspy, labored breaths mingled with her sobs. She didn’t even know if she was still crying. It didn’t matter. Her sobs came from deep in her chest. When she could finally speak again, she whispered, her voice so raw and scratchy, she could barely even understand her words.

  “I’m still your family. I’ll always be here. Always. I love you, Rone. It will get better, I promise. All of this. We’ll have our happy ending. We’ll find it together. I swear, I’m never going to leave you. No one, certainly not my brother, is going to change my mind. If I had one of those jackknives right now, I’d cut my own hand and swear it to you, like you and Jay swore that oath all those years ago.”

  Rone actually chuckled. It was a terrible, strained sound followed by a painful cough and labored breathing. He tried to smile, but his lips were so swollen it was a ghastly parody of expression.

  “You don’t have to.
I never wanted to cause you pain. All my life I’ve wanted to protect you. It’s why I- I stayed away. And now you know who I- who I really am.”

  “I’ve always known who you were. Always. And this…” she gently guided his hand to her pounding heart. “This is yours. It’s always been yours. I’ve never wanted anyone else. Ever. And Jay… he’ll either come around or he won’t. It’s never going to change the way I feel. He tried to come here and rip us apart, but he’ll never be able to do that. I’ve waited too long for this. For you. I’m not giving up. Next time I’ll be the one to fight him if I have to. I’ll find another fucking lamp.”

  Rone laughed again, but groaned a second later. “Stop! I can’t laugh right now without feeling like I’m going to die.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s alright.” Rone’s hand landed protectively on her back. His large fingers splayed out and the heat of him soaked right through her shirt, into her. She rested her face in the crook of his neck, warming him with her breath. “I always thought you were an angel,” he rasped. “But I was wrong. You’re a damn hellcat.”

  “That’s right. Don’t forget it. I’ll fight for what’s mine.”

  “I’m glad for that. Lord knows I won’t survive round two.”

  Heather let her arms tightened around Rone’s neck. Neither of them moved. They just sat like that, wrapped up in each other, hurting and aching and loving. She knew the pain was far from over. She thought she knew everything there was to know and then she found out Rone had a past she knew nothing about. She thought she knew her brother too, but she was wrong. He’d reacted like a stranger, a man she didn’t even recognize. The struggles were really just starting, but she wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t a quitter. She was tough, given an extra dose of spirit to make up for her small stature.

  She was no longer afraid or uncertain of their future together. She loved Rone and she’d do whatever it took to help him heal. Not just from the physical wounds, but from all the ones she couldn’t see. From the lacerations on his soul, his spirit, his heart. He was hers and she’d walk whatever road she had to, right by his side. She’d waited a lifetime for him and she’d give the rest of her years to keep loving him.

  Chapter 15

  Round Two

  Rone

  Rone couldn’t count the number of times he’d pulled up in front of Jay’s house. Even the curb, with its crumbling corner and the weeds growing up through the cracks, were familiar. He put his truck in gear and killed the ignition. The sound of his breaths, even and measured, filled up the cab space.

  After the fight, he’d taken a couple days off work to heal. Heather wanted to take time off from her own job, but he insisted she go. He didn’t want her to have to look after his sorry ass. He knew full well that the fact he looked like a punching bag and that it was her brother who had handed out the beating, didn’t sit well with her. She’d wanted to march right over to Jay’s house and demand that he apologize, but he made sure she cooled her jets. It wasn’t her battle any longer.

  No, it was just him and Jay. He should have come in the first place and spared Heather any involvement. She might have had to see the aftermath, but at least she wouldn’t have been standing right there when the fight went down.

  He didn’t need a steadying breath as he climbed out of his truck and marched up to the front door. He had a damn key for the place, but he might as well throw that down the storm drain off to the left. Jay had probably changed the locks anyway. It seemed like something he would do.

  Though Rone didn’t see Jay’s truck parked in front, he raised his hand and knocked. He waited. Nothing happened. The door didn’t open. There wasn’t a sound from inside. Rone wondered if Jay had seen him coming and he was just ignoring him. His truck could be parked in the back. Just to be sure, he rang the bell a couple times.

  He was pretty sure, after a few minutes of hanging out on the doorstep, that Jay wasn’t actually home. It was a Wednesday night and Jay didn’t normally go out, but who knew? He felt out of tune with everything that was going on with the guy and that was long before the whole Heather thing came between them. Jay was just so damn disconnected. It was like he put absolutely no feeling into anything at all. He was content to walk through life like a damn zombie. Or more correctly, he was just into fucking and fighting his way through.

  Rone had a feeling he knew where his best friend, or more realistically, ex-best friend, was. Thoughts like that made him feel like he was five years old and he and Jay had one of their fights. At least that was normally sorted out after school. They used to bloody each other all the time. Usually it ended at that. Whatever was bothering them was solved the instant someone drew blood. A good pounding on each other usually worked out whatever was between them.

  A frustrated sigh escaped Rone’s throat as he stalked back to his truck. He hoisted himself in and winced when his ass hit the seat. His ribs, though not broken, still smarted every time he moved. Walking was alright, but anything more than that ushered him into a world of pain.

  His truck fired up with a growl and he was off, driving towards the bar that Jay loved to hang out at. It had never been his thing, but he’d gone along with it for Jay’s sake. That’s what he thought friends did for each other.

  Ironically enough, the fight had the exact opposite effect Jay hoped for. He wanted Rone to stay away from Heather, but instead Heather had been over at his house constantly since the fight. She’d brought over some clothes, even her toothbrush. She’d stayed every night since then and though they hadn’t done anything but lay tangled up in his bed, the intimacy they shared was deeper than it ever had been. She left for work from his house and came home. He cooked for them and offered her rides, which she turned down. It was almost like they were a damn couple already. After so many years of being around each other, being together actually felt far more natural than being apart.

  The parking lot of the bar that Jay frequented was almost deserted. There were two cars parked in the many spaces in the asphalt lot. Jay’s truck stood out like a sore thumb.

  Rone muttered an expletive under his breath as he parked his truck next to Jay’s. He slid out, hoping like hell that Jay would decide not to cause a scene. The last thing he wanted was to start some fight in the middle of a bar.

  The minute Rone strolled inside, Jay’s head cranked around. He was sitting in the usual booth, nursing a pint, totally alone. With his long hair snarled around his shoulders, a thick growth of stubble dotting his jaw and black smudges under his eyes, he looked like a train wreck.

  The black vinyl padding on the booth groaned as Rone sunk into the seat opposite of Jay. Jay looked up, eyes bleary. Once he registered who was there, he snarled. He looked like a damn venomous snake about to strike.

  “Whoa there.” Rone put up his hands. “I’m here unarmed, man. I just want to talk.”

  “What you want is another ass kicking. Clearly.”

  “No. We seriously need to talk. We’ve both cooled down now. We can be adults and sort this out, can’t we?”

  “No. There isn’t anything to sort out. You fucked my sister. That’s the lowest of low blows, Rone. I don’t want to see your face or hear your name ever again. Now fuck off out of here before I get in the mood to beat you into a pulp again.”

  Rone rolled his eyes. “This time if you try, I’m not going to sit there and take it. I’m going to fight back. I let you have at me the first time because, well- maybe I deserved it. Heather was there too. I didn’t want her to see us tearing each other apart. Try it again and I swear you’re going to walk away worse for it.”

  Jay rolled up the sleeves of his red and black plaid shirt. “We’ll see, then, who takes the worst beating.”

  He went to stand, but Rone beat him to it. He stood, shoved the table into Jay’s ribs and slammed his large hand onto his friend’s shoulder. He pushed him down into the booth at the same time the wind rushed out of Jay’s lungs.

  “Sit the fuck down and think about what y
ou’re saying. You’re drunk. Trashed. I can see. You think you’re really in any kind of condition to go head to head with me? I might still have the bruises from least time, but I guarantee I’m healed up enough to give you an ass kicking that you won’t forget any time soon.” Rone kept Jay pinned in place with the table for a few long minutes until he was sure he wasn’t going to try and do anything foolish.

  Finally Jay’s shoulders slumped and he glanced down at his half full pint, which miraculously, hadn’t spilled when Rone knocked the table over a foot.

  “You quit or what?” Jay’s eyes returned to Rone’s face. They shot sparks, though by the way they tried to focus, Jay really was far too hammered to do much damage at all.

  “No.” Rone sat back down. He left the table where it was. Jay shoved it back to where it should be. He picked up his pint and rained the rest of it before slamming the glass back down on the table. “I’m not afraid of you, Jay. I didn’t come into work because I looked like hell. I had a few sick days that I used. I’m not going to quit and I’m not going to stop seeing Heather.”

  “The fuck you will.”

  “No, I really am not. We’re adults. We’ve spent ten years and at least half that time, in wanting to be with each other. I’m not letting her go now that I finally have her. I love her. She feels the same way. You can either be happy for us or you can hate us, but it’s going to happen, no matter how you feel. You have no right to keep us apart.”

  Jay sighed. “You come from a broken home. You- I know what happened to you that summer…”

  “Yes, I know what you felt fit to tell her. That wasn’t your shit to tell anyone, Jay. That was information you were trusted with, as my brother. You think I wanted that shit to happen to me? I’ve spent years in therapy trying to get over the way I was raised. The truth is though, and we both know it, is that I’m not nearly as fucked up as you are.”

  Jay’s eyes widened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Rone shrugged. “Exactly what I said. I actually wanted to sort my shit out. I’ve tried hard to be a better person than I was. I might come from a broken home, but it never broke me. I still have the ability to love. I always have. I love your sister and I’m going to do what it takes to fight for her. I’m not ever going to give up. Not unless she tells me she wants me to and means it. I might have come from nothing, but you are the one who is broken.”