Indelible: Beneath His Ink (Teal and Trent Book 2)

by Inger Iversen

  Teal abandoned her ruse. “What is it you want me to say?”

  Shayla leaned forward, the gun wobbling in her shaky hands. “I want you to admit what a whore you are, and that you don’t deserve to replace me.” She leaned back, red-rimmed eyes narrowing in thought. “Then I want you to call Trent and tell him you’re a whore and you made a mistake.”

  Teal swallowed back her anger. This could actually work in her favor. If she called Trent and said these things, he would know something was up. She would just have to keep playing along, and Shayla would hand over the noose to hang herself with.

  “You want me to do what?” Teal asked through gritted teeth, keeping her ruse of anger going.

  Rocking forward, Shayla motioned around Trent’s house. “This is my home. You see that rooster in the kitchen?” Since Shayla didn’t bother to turn and look, neither did Teal. “I bought that. The towels in the bathroom, the paint on the fucking walls, and the goddamned rugs you walk your uppity ass on all day. All shit I bought.”

  What the fuck was she supposed to do or say? Did she offer to leave? And what was that she’d said about Jake? Was he coming too? Teal couldn’t repress the shudder at the idea of that man in Trent’s home, while she was defenseless. She needed to handle this shit now, before Jake had the chance to get there.

  She cleared her throat and tried to look sad. “I am a whore who doesn’t deserve to take your place.”

  Shayla flashed a mollified smile. “Good. Now pick up the phone and tell my man what you just told me.”

  Teal turned to the house phone and pulled it from the cradle. Shayla’s simple-ass scheme would do her more harm than good. She dialed the number and placed the cordless phone to her ear. Hopefully, Trent was close by, and with his help, they could take this bitch out.

  Trent sat in his truck, just down the street from his home, holding the tiny box in his hand. Deftly, he flipped it over and over again with his fingers, watching the burgundy velvet spin. When was the right time to ask a woman to marry you? His fear was that his past would constantly find its way back into his present. Could he drag Teal into the muck and mire of his past?

  After buying the ring and allowing Katie to fawn over it, he’d spoken to Logan. Though his friend had tried to assuage his concerns, he’d only added to them. Logan’s past was still a major topic of concern with Katie, so much so, they were seeking counseling. Trent couldn’t imagine fucking up Teal’s life so bad she’d need to talk to some doctor about his failures.

  Logan had promised they’d both agreed it was necessary, but Trent could hear the disquiet in his best friend’s voice. He feared losing her and his children. And while Logan and Trent faced different demons, both fought a battle in which losing would cost them more than they could afford.

  For the first time since he and Teal discussed moving in together, Trent wondered if moving to Vermont might just be the better option. Could he could sacrifice the freedom of living without a mortgage and being his own boss? How selfish was it of him to demand Teal sacrifice her job and security, when he hadn’t considered doing the same?

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Checking the ID, he saw that Teal was ringing him from his house phone. On the second ring he answered. “Yeah, baby?”

  “Trent.” Her tight voice and thready tone sent his heart into over drive. He’d only heard her voice this way once before, after the accident months ago. “Baby . . .”

  The catch in her voice sent Trent’s brain into active mode. What in the fuck was Teal afraid of? His woman seemed to fear nothing; hell, she worked with murderers and rapists. Listening, he could make out the voice of another woman in the background.

  Her breathing increased and Trent couldn’t understand a word out of her mouth. He closed his eyes and placed a hand over his chest as he worked to calm his racing heart. What the fuck was wrong with him? He hadn’t had a panic attack in months.

  He fought to clear his head and listen, but flashes of Teal’s accident assaulted him. Trent closed his eyes, working hard to fight the visions clouding his sight. He gripped the steering wheel and pulled the phone away from his ear. That day came back, unwanted. The flashes were vivid.

  “Don’t try and talk just yet. You crashed your vehicle. Up over there, you crashed and I got you out.”

  Her eyes close, and just as Trent squeezes her hand, they pop open. The hard glint in her eyes softens to what Trent believes is gratitude.

  “That’s right. Stay awake for me. No sleeping until we’re sure you’re fine.” She tries to nod and he stops her. “No moving either.”

  A voice called to him, stricken and panicked. “Baby? I mean, Trent!”

  Trent’s eyes opened, the haze of his memory gradually clearing to the present. This was the shit Trent feared, headaches and flashbacks fucking with his ability to act.

  Finally, he got his fucking ass in gear and started the engine. “What the fuck is up, baby?” The line sounded grainy and Trent couldn’t place the voice. Teal’s next words caused him to freeze.

  A small sob left her. “I am a wh—whore and I don’t deserve to take—”

  Trent heard nothing else as the phone dropped to the floor and he slammed on the gas. He hadn't heard those words in eight years, but they were burned into his brain, and he knew exactly who’d made her say them.

  His stomach clenched. Why the fuck was Teal repeating the words Shayla’s mother had forced her to say the night she discovered her druggie, bastard of a boyfriend had raped Shayla? She’d only been twelve goddamn years old, and her mother had made her repeat those words all night long.

  Once Trent was only a block away from his house, he reached under his dash, searching for the gun he kept hidden there. His fingers brushed over the butt of the gun, when his vehicle lurched forward. The sound of metal crunching and glass breaking exploded in his ears. His face slammed into the steering wheel, leaving his brain feeling like it had gone through the ringer. Sounds were muffled, and a sharp pain radiated in his skull.

  “What the fuck?” He slurred through shredded and bloodied lips. Lifting his head, a haze marred his vision. Trent wiped at his eyes. Pulling away his hand, he stared in confusion at the sight of blood smeared across his hand. Bright lights danced in his vision, blinding him. Throwing a hand up to block the light, Trent narrowed his eyes.

  Even with his vision swimming, it was hard to miss the truck door as it was yanked open. He turned, staring into the barrel of a gun. He moved fast to reach for his weapon, now laying on the passenger side floor. A dark figure appeared in the window. Opening the other door, the guy threw a punch in Trent’s face, disorienting him even further.

  “Get him the fuck out of the truck,” some guy said.

  Trent growled when he recognized Jake’s voice. Rough hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him from the truck. The second his feet hit the ground, he swung, catching one of the men in the jaw. A loud oomph sounded as his fist connected, along with the crack of knuckles meeting a broad jaw. He then squeezed in a quick upper cut, before one of the other men landed a punch to his gut that was too weak to cause any real damage. Trent stumbled back; his vision and balance off from the fucking fender bender.

  “Mother fucker! Goddamn, that son of a bitch got some right hard abs.”

  “Fuck that pussy,” Jake spat. His nasally voice taking on a garbled tone. “Get him in the house before some nosey ass neighbor comes out here.”

  Trent stood tall, shaking off the vertigo as best he could. He sneered, hoping he looked as feral as he felt. A heatwave stole over him and he fisted his hands at his sides, as a deep rage built in his gut. Trent would kill these men with his bare hands if need be. Licking the blood from his teeth, he advanced on the men.

  Even as he felt off his game, he sensed the fear in the men he planned to kill. Trent would show no mercy, use no weapons but his hands, and feel no pity in the end. Both men backed away as he got closer, but Trent didn’t care, the thrill of the chase lent
fuel to the fire burning within.

  “Fuck, man,” one of the men yelled. “Get that bitch out here to calm this dude down.”

  Trent stopped, his vision clearing enough that shadows became figures with blurry faces. The sound of the man’s voice changed Trent’s focus. He’d work on him first, saving Jake for last. Tackling the guy before he knew what’d happened, they were on the ground in a tangle of heated punches and blood.

  Trent finally felt free, striking blow after blow. He rained down fists as if they were soaked in fuel and lit on fire. His brain would not let him stop, the heat and anger burned so hot he felt it would incinerate him from the inside out.

  A soft voice whispered over a breeze, the sound familiar and soothing. Trent paused only to hear the sound again.

  “Oh God, baby.” The calming words halted his actions. “Trent!” Her scream rang out, just as he felt a blow to his head, sending him into a sweet darkness.

  Trent tasted old pennies, snot, and sweat. He tried to take a breath, though it seemed impossible with his hands tied behind his back and the majority of his weight stuffed in a tight ball on the floor. Regulating his breathing, he stealthily took in his surroundings. His nose was busted and bleeding, but he was still able to take in the scent of rank body odor and Teal’s vanilla lavender.

  “He’s up.” Shayla’s voice sounded from somewhere in the room.

  Trent’s anger flared to life again. Beating it back with a mental command he’d learned in his monthly meetings, he focused on his end game—getting Teal out of the house and to safety. First, he needed to locate Teal, then he’d get to work on untying his restraints.

  “Lift him the fuck up.” Jake’s voice hadn't recovered from the beating Trent had rained down on him in the club. And when Trent was yanked upright, he could see a black eye and the swelling had his face looking as if he’d eaten a load of shellfish.

  He sat across from him on the couch, a baseball cap cocked down over his eyes and a bat resting between his spread legs. A wide grin split his deranged face when Trent’s eyes locked on his. Jake sat back and spread his legs wider, taking a position that exuded ease. Trent knew it was an act, as whatever drugs were racing through Jake’s system had him on edge—boot tapping uncontrollably.

  Taking in the scene around him, Trent finally allowed himself to meet Teal’s gaze. A flare a pride surged in him as he took in her intrepid demeanor. Her stiff posture and shuddering frame belied the fire in her eyes. He rapidly inspected her body, noting she had propped herself up against the wall beside his couch, but was unharmed, and her hands and feet were not bound.

  “I haven’t touched her yet. But plan to—repeatedly.”

  Trent didn’t take his eyes off Teal, seeing her expression change at Jake’s words. The fury burning in her gaze dimmed a little, as dread took over. Trent spared Shayla a quick glance on his way to look at Jake.

  Jake moved the bat. “What’s her pussy taste like?” He stuck his tongue at her and waggled it in a vulgar gesture. Trent vowed to rip it out of his head. “Hmm? Does it taste like chocolate?” A malevolent stare bore into his woman. “Or mud?” He leaned forward and spat on the carpet. Without taking his eyes off Teal, he spoke to Trent. “Is this little bitch the reason I got a call from a friend in Louisville asking about some raped chick?”

  “Was Teal there that night?” Trent asked, hoping to take the spotlight off her.

  “No, but you were.” He turned his unfocused gaze to Trent. Sniffling he added, “And Logan. Logan was there, too. Should I call Logan and ask if his bitch was the one who called? On second thought, maybe I’ll pay his bitch and those nigger babies a visit when I’m done here.”

  Hesitantly, Shayla stepped forward, her perch on the counter abandoned as she made her way into the living room. “I don’t think it was her, Jake.” She held a shotgun and pointed it in Teal’s direction. Trent wished he could stand between her and the barrel, but there was no way to make it over there.

  A figure burst through the door as Jake was about to speak. The bloodied and unrecognizable man stood in the doorway, glaring at Trent. “Ready out front.” His garbled tone sent Trent’s pride soaring. He’d truly fucked that man up—his battered face swollen beyond recognition.

  “Good.” Jake turned to Trent and nodded at the guy. “We go way back.” His foot tapping intensified, pupils darkening until they nearly took over the whites of his eye. “I mean, Logan and I go way back too, and then we pulled you into our fold.”

  The tapping stopped long enough for Jake to wipe his runny nose. Then, his boot started again, driving Trent up the fucking wall.

  “You didn’t have anyone . . .” Jake’s hands spread out in a galled gesture. “I think you at least owe me some sort of loyalty, yeah?”

  Trent moved his focus from Jake’s tapping boot to his reddened face. He lifted his bound hands. “Like the loyalty you’re extending me right now?”

  “That was just ‘cause—” Shayla started, but Jake cut her off with a smarting crack to the knee with a bat.

  Teal flinched so hard, the second man at the door made his way over to her. He only stopped when Shayla wailed, tears streaming from her eyes. Trent noted that the shotgun was no longer aimed at his woman.

  The man at the door groaned in irritation. “Goddammit, man. Don’t get her started.”

  Trent focused on keeping Jake talking. He knew the man wasn’t stupid, or high enough to untie him, but with his hands tied in the front, if Trent could make it to his ultra-hidden gun in the kitchen, it would tip the odds in his favor. Shayla, he was not worried about. For some reason, it wasn’t prudent for them to take the only gun in the situation away from her, but Trent would use their ignorance to his advantage.

  “Open your trap for anything other than swallowing my come, and I’ll close it for you, permanently.” The malice in Jake’s voice sent ice down Trent’s spine. “You want to know where my loyalty lies?” Jake’s boot tapping resumed. “I’ve got no love for that one over there.” He nodded to Shayla. “She’ll burn you, and she’ll burn you bad.”

  Faceless guy cursed long and hard under his breath. “Fuck, I told you we should have done this shit when you weren’t high.”

  It was then Trent realized he was the only one wearing gloves. Not that it mattered, now that his DNA was all over Trent’s hands and front yard. But the faceless man was the only one sober out of all the assailants, and Trent preferred to go after the weakest link.

  He needed to get the gun from Shayla, so he lasered in on her. Seeing the hatred in her blue-green gaze didn’t surprise him at all. “She’s a cum-guzzling whore.”

  “Fuck you, Trent. You didn’t mind lying beside my ass for eight years.” She spat.

  “I ain’t lying beside you now.” Trent turned to Jake. “Get rid of her.”

  Jake’s tapping increased. “Kill her?”

  Shayla whirled on Jake, the shotgun pointed to the ground and away from Teal. Trent could almost feel her sigh of relief.

  “Fuck no,” Trent said. “Make her wait somewhere. I don’t trust that bitch.” Her growl echoed in his head. “Also, what’s this rape you are talking about? I don’t know shit about it and I don’t want to. I got me some college pussy that night, too. You think I want some cops lurking around, asking me why I—a grown ass man—was at a frat party?” Trent’s bewildered gaze must have done the trick.

  Jake nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. We all fucked that night. So mine wiggled and screamed a little more than yours. Shayla likes to wiggle and scream too, don’t you?” The look he gave her said she would agree or suffer. She nodded quietly.

  Content with her compliance, Jake stood and moved toward Teal. He kneeled before her, straddling her legs. “Do you wiggle?” His flat tone bore no anger or lust. Teal’s body trembled when Jake’s hand reached out for her ghosting over the front of her shirt. “Do you scream?”

  Teal’s gaze flew to Trent’s, tears flowing down her cheeks. He sent out waves of love, hoping ag
ainst hope she could feel them. Jake’s hand shot out like a cobra. Taking Teal by the back of the neck, he wrenched her head back. Her gasp of pain and struggling caused Trent to turn in his seat.

  “Take your hands off her.” Trent didn’t recognize his own voice. Rage blurring his vision. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Shayla limped closer to him, and the man at the door tense up.

  “I’m going to fuck her. You know that, right? I was just waiting for you to wake up and watch.” His words were meant for Trent, but Jake kept his gaze on Teal’s chest. Pulling her head back, Teal’s body bowed and her chest thrust out as she tried to take the pressure off her neck. “I’m going to hurt her, too.” Teal’s hand flew behind her back and Trent fumed as the tension in her back became more evident the harder Jake pulled.

  Trent’s jaw clenched so hard he tasted blood. He pushed his hands between his legs to hide the fact he was working at the bindings.

  “I’ll make her strip in front of you, me, and my buddy over here, before I take her.”

  “Wait, what?” Shayla’s voice barely made it past the sounds of bees swarming in Trent’s head. “That wasn’t the plan. We were supposed to scare her back home.”

  Trent didn’t spare Shayla a glance, as far as he was concerned, she too would stop breathing tonight, and by his hands.

  “Shayla, shut up. That’s my last warning.” Jake pulled harder on Teal’s hair, and a pained moan left her lips.

  Trent had freed himself from the ropes around his hands. “Teal, baby,” he called to her. “Close your eyes for me.” His breathing intensified as his training took over. Too often he’d held it at bay, but as a heat spread over him, he knew what was about to happen, and he didn’t want his woman to watch. Not because she was a delicate flower who couldn’t handle it. Oh no, Teal was probably hoping he’d go berserk. But he couldn’t allow her to see the pleasure he would take in killing each and every person in the room.