Hearts of Jade (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 3)

by Mary Crawford

  I cautiously peek over at my dad to gauge his reaction to my announcement. I’m surprised when I see a slightly soggy look of amazement on his face.

  “What?” I ask defensively.

  He smirks at me as he answers, “You realize that you just told me you want to be a teacher with about the same amount of wind up and delivery that most girls use to tell their parents that they plan to move to Nevada to work for a brothel.”

  “To be honest, I thought I might get more support if I told you I was going to run away to Vegas,” I quip.

  My dad rubs his beard as he acquiesces, “I can’t argue with your point there. I’ve never been one for the traditional life —that’s more your mother’s thing. She’s going to be thrilled. There’s nothing more perfect than a teacher and a librarian in the same family. I have to tell you I’m not real excited about you going away to college. Seeing as it didn’t work out so well for us the last time. Do you really have to go away to college? Can’t you do college around here? Can you do college part-time? Can you work at the shop? Do you have to leave Ink’d Deep? I don’t want you to leave. Do you hate it so bad that you need to leave?”

  The man who has been larger than life and my protector from the moment I took my first breath on this planet, looks so defeated that I hardly recognize him. I haven’t seen him look this sad since the day we buried Onyx. I try to climb over the console in my car to cuddle with my dad. At this point, the fact that I’m an adult seems immaterial. I need my dad and my dad needs me. I get as close as I can and hug him as I try to explain, “Dad, I swear — it’s not about turning my back on Ink’d Deep. It’s about trying to find out who I’m supposed to be. I never had a chance to figure that out on my own. Someone has always had expectations of what I was supposed to be and most of those expectations had something to do with Ink’d Deep. I want to separate myself from the shop and see if I can shine on my own.”

  I feel my dad’s arms come around me and hug me tight as he whispers in my ear, “Jade, you are the daughter of Diamond Petros. Of course you will shine like the brightest star regardless of what you choose to do. You are perfect, just like your mother.”

  I sigh and kiss my father on the cheek. I can’t resist one last comment, “Daddy, if I’m so perfect, why do you insist on treating me as if I am a dense apprentice who doesn’t know the difference between a light switch and a lightning bug?”

  “I don’t know, Manari mou, perhaps you are not the only one who needs a vacation.”

  I’m busy trying to repair the ravages of my makeup in the break room and stuff a few bites of junk food in my mouth when Rogue comes in to fill her coffee cup. Rogue is one of those people that I find intimidating. She doesn’t try to be intimidating, she just is. She is always effortlessly put together; she can take a plain white T-shirt, a pair of jeans and an old pair of tennis shoes and make them look like a fashion statement without any effort at all. For some reason, when I try that same look, I just look like a juvenile delinquent. When she stops dead in her tracks after she catches a glimpse of me, it doesn’t do wonders for my ego, let’s just put it that way.

  “What happened to you? I thought you and Jett went out to lunch. What did you do, get robbed?” she asks, studying me for clues.

  I shrug. “No, we just had a very emotional conversation because I decided to be a little more honest than usual. I took a risk and told my dad that I want to go to school like Onyx and I had always planned.”

  Rogue’s mouth rounds with surprise, but then she comments, “It might be a little bumpy at first, but I bet Jett will be a lot like Ivy’s dad, Robert, and he’ll come around without too much trouble — remember when she told him that she wanted to change her major from accounting to art?”

  “That’s right, I had forgotten about that. He eventually was all right with the decision, right?”

  “Almost instantaneously — I think Ivy was more worried about it than Robert was. I’d like to talk to you more about it, but you have an appointment coming in. Didn’t you check your calendar?”

  “Geez, I forgot to sync my calendar this morning. What did I miss?” I ask, flipping through my phone.

  “As far as I can tell, these look like repeat customers for you — Allie and Ashley ring a bell?”

  I almost choke on my Doritos when she says the names. “Seriously? I didn’t expect them back quite so quickly.” I stand up and go over to my portable drawing portfolio and remove some sketches. I had taken some work home. Ashley Nicole’s drawing was one that I had been working out in my head for a while. The time that I was home with Declan gave me some freedom to sketch several designs. I even had some time to color them in with colored pencils, which is not a luxury that I get to do here at the shop very often.

  I try one more time to straighten my wild hair and I put on some lip gloss as I try to affect some sort of game face. I am a little surprised when I enter the shop floor and see Ashley and Allie with a tall, dark-haired guy with them. He doesn’t look old enough to be their father, but he is dressed in a suit. I greet the girls with a smile, “Hey! How are you? I’ve got some great stuff to show you.” I turn to the gentleman accompanying them and hold out my hand for him to shake, but before I can say anything, Allie bursts into the conversation, “Jade, this is Mark, he was the one I was telling you about — you know, Callum’s brother. After we went home the other day, I got to thinking about what you said about family. I realized that Callum would’ve been really proud of what he did and what all of those drawings stood for. He would’ve wanted me to be proud of us too and he wouldn’t want me to keep the drawings to myself, so, I reached out to his brother. Mark has some questions for you. I hope you don’t mind that I brought him along.”

  Having lost my own brother, I feel an instant connection with the pain in Mark’s eyes. I shake his hand as I say, “Welcome to Ink’d Deep. I’m Jade. I’m sorry for your loss. It’s a special kind of pain to be the sibling left behind.”

  “Ah, so Allie is correct; you are a kindred spirit in grief. It saddens me that you are touched by sorrow too,” he comments somberly.

  I shrug as I draw in a shaky breath. Today has been a flippin’ emotional roller coaster. “Some days are worse than others, for sure. Allie mentioned that you had some questions. What can I do for you?”

  Mark runs his hand through his short-cropped jet black hair as he blows out a deep breath. “Here’s the thing, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete asshole. Allie here tells me that you’re some hotshot television star and that I should just respect your talent as a tattoo artist. I see the kind of people that are on television these days, and it doesn’t take much talent. Honestly, it doesn’t take any talent at all to get your own cable show. I don’t have any idea if you can even draw. My standards are pretty high. My brother was an exceptional artist. Very few people knew how good he was, I’m not even sure he knew how good he was. If someone is going to be interpreting my brother’s work and slapping it on somebody’s skin where it’s going to last forever, I want to make for damn sure that they know what they’re doing. I don’t want somebody making a mockery of my brother’s work.”

  I raise my eyebrow and cross my arms as I listen to his monologue. When he finishes, I just nod and walk over to my portfolio book and open it. “It just so happens I completely agree with you. I wouldn’t want just any tattoo artist to do my work either. You should always choose very carefully.” I walk over to Allie and look her directly in the eye as I instruct, “Allie, if at any time you feel like I’m not the artist for you, that’s totally okay. I want you to be happy with who you choose.”

  She flushes bright red as she responds, “Oh, no worries. This isn’t about me. I’m totally stoked. I just needed to show Mark what you’re all about. He doesn’t know who you are. Do you have time to do me today?”

  I glance up at the clock and back at the file with Allie’s design. Tapping the end of the pencil on my bottom lip in indecision, I finally concede, “I can’t
do both tattoos today. I could get the outline of your tattoo done today, but there is no way I can color it today.”

  “I read somewhere that it’s better to do the outlines first anyway,” Allie responds.

  “Everybody’s skin reacts differently to the ink and everyone has a different tolerance, so it’s really hard to make a generalization like that. There are a lot of fine lines in Callum’s design. That can take a toll on a tattoo artist, even an experienced one. A lot of times it’s better to take a complex design in multiple stages.”

  “Are you going to be working on the eleventh?” Allie asks me in a voice barely above a whisper.

  I nod as I reply, “Yes, as far as I know.”

  Allie’s spine straightens and she announces in a steadier voice, “I know what I want you to do. I want you to do the outline today, but I want you to finish it on the eleventh. That’s the second anniversary of the first time Callum asked me to marry him. It’s a very special day to me and I want another happy memory to look back on when I remember that day.”

  Without conscious thought, I look over to the couches where Mark is studying the portfolios. I know that technically Allie does not need his approval to get the tattoo, but I always breathe a little sigh of relief if everyone is on the same page. I’m not sure what he’s looking at, but his face is a cauldron of emotion. I touch Allie on the shoulder as I pass her and whisper, “Excuse me, I need to see what’s going on.”

  It all makes sense when I see the picture of the tattoo he is gently tracing with his finger. It was probably one of the hardest tattoos I’ve ever had to do. Those kind always are. He looks up at me with a haunted expression on his face. “How did you get this picture? She looks just like my daughter, Ketki. We’ve never met.” He turns toward Allie and asks, “Did you and Callum show her a photograph?”

  Allie vigorously shakes her head no as she replies, “No! Barbara Ann, Ashley Nicole and I came in here on a whim. I thought I recognized this place from Over It but, never in a million years did I think that Jade would be the one tattooing us.”

  Mark pins me with a narrowed gaze as he demands, “Then how do you explain it?”

  “Do you mind?” I ask as I reach for the portfolio book. He hands it over to me and I gently extract a picture from behind the picture of the tattoo.

  “This is the little girl I tattooed on her daddy. He sent his wife and daughter on a plane on September 11th to go visit his parents. They were going to go on a tour of the East Coast and visit the White House after he wrapped up some contract negotiations with his business. They never made it because their plane crashed into the World Trade Center. As far as I know, she has nothing to do with your family, but it is one of the most beautiful portraits I’ve ever done.”

  Mark’s hands are shaking as he pulls his wallet out from his back pocket and removes a picture. The little girl in the picture is a little younger than the reference picture I used for the tattoo, but they could have easily been the same child. It’s enough to send a chill up my spine. “Wow, that’s uncanny,” I comment softly.

  Mark takes a swig of water and wipes his eyes before continuing, “I don’t know, perhaps the saddest coincidence of all is that it’s the horrendous acts of terrorists that tie our stories together. Maybe that was Callum’s point all along.” He walks over to Allie and collects her into an embrace. After a while, he pulls away and cups her cheek as he says roughly, “I don’t know who my brother thought he was fooling; he wasn’t keeping you a secret from anyone. We all knew he had given you his heart on the first day you met. He was just waiting for you to grow up. If anyone should wear his artwork, it’s you. Jade should do it because I think Callum chose her.”

  I MIGHT HAVE TO ADMIT that I could easily become addicted to all of Jade’s gadgets. I live a pretty minimalist lifestyle since I generally take most of my stuff with me on the road. I learned a long time ago it’s not really safe to leave anything of value behind. Typically, I don’t keep a lot of gadgets around; even my cell phone is a few models behind the current trend. It’s functional and it works, which is all I usually need. However, being banged up has added some new items to my wish list.

  When I mentioned that I wanted to be able to write music again, Jade came up with an ingenious solution. She let me borrow her iPad. I haven’t really had a chance to play around with a tablet for several years and the last time I used one they didn’t really do much. But she has a program on this thing that allows me to play instruments with a stylus and record my voice. I discovered that I can jam the stylus between my cast and my fingers, so I can almost play this thing two-handed. It’s pretty cool because there’s a piano on the little tablet. For an electronic device, it plays pretty decently. It’s been really helpful in songwriting. At least it’s giving me something to do while I lie around.

  I got some more good news today. One of my musician friends is going to use one of my songs on his album. He cut me a royalty check for the rights to the song and I decided to celebrate by calling my friend who is a waitress at Frannie’s to order some take-out. Rogue offered to bring it by because Jade is staying late to work on a couple of customers tonight. I thought it would be cool to surprise her because she’s been at my beck and call for days. As much as there’s a part of me that enjoys being spoiled, it’s a little embarrassing not to be able to reciprocate.

  After I finish setting up the coffee table for our dinner for two, I settle back into songwriting mode, playing the little piano instead of the guitar and talking into the recorder on the iPad instead of writing. It’s a different way to compose, but it’s better than nothing. The only downside is it takes about ten times as long to do it this way. There’s something about processing my words through handwriting that’s missing with this method. I don’t seem to remember what I’ve composed as well and I keep having to go back and rewind my lyrics to make sure everything is cohesive.

  I’m so engrossed in what I’m doing, I don’t even hear the back door open until someone is standing in the kitchen. I look up, fully expecting it to be Rogue. I’m startled to find Jade standing in front of me. Much to my horror, Jade looks as if someone or something has completely unraveled her soul. Physically, she looks relatively unchanged from this morning except that her eyes are red and puffy and she looks exhausted. However, her eyes are filled with unfathomable pain. This is a pain beyond her stiff neck or sore shoulder, this comes from questioning who you are and why you exist and not being fully satisfied with the answers you come up with.

  Without a word, I put the iPad down and walk over to her and gather her up into an embrace as I try to siphon her pain away. We stand there silently for several minutes because I know that with pain like this, words feel like sandpaper. Eventually, Jade pulls away, wiping her eyes on her sweatshirt sleeves. I pull her close for one more moment as I place a soft kiss on her forehead and whisper, “I’m sorry you hurt, J.”

  Jade walks over to the counter, grabs a paper towel, wipes her face and blows her nose. She grabs a soda from the fridge and fiddles with the can. She doesn’t even try to open it. She just needs something in her hands as she unloads about her day.

  “Today was tough,” she states matter-of-factly.

  I walk over to her, place my arm around her waist and escort her to the couch. Tucking her next to me, I encourage her to continue, “I kind of figured. What happened?”

  “Part of it was just my own stupidity, I don’t know what I was expecting. Marcus has never been a really big fan of paperwork. When I got back to the shop, my desk was completely buried in crap; it’s like my dad and Marcus didn’t do anything the whole time I’ve been gone. Rogue tried to keep it up, but it’s not really her job. She’s is still new and there are certain things she can’t really do yet. She was the one who noticed that we have a supplier who keeps shorting us on our ink orders. I was in the middle of straightening all that out and figuring out how many months it happened when my dad came in and started giving me a hard time for taking some time off.” />
  “I’m so sorry he gave you grief for that,” I whisper against her temple.

  She shrug as she admits, “It was the last straw for me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I take the least amount of time off of anybody in the whole business. I’m really not complaining. I haven’t had much else to do with my life. I’m not like Rogue where I’m trying to balance school quite as much. The online classes that I take don’t take nearly as much time as her studio classes. Mine are pretty remedial. Marcus does all the volunteer work on top of his duties at Ink’d Deep. I help out sometimes, but I don’t do nearly as much as Marcus and Tristan do.” Her lip hitches up in a funny grin as she remarks, “Then again, I don’t have a private plane either.”

  “J, I’m confused,” I interject. “Are you apologizing because you’re stressed out? In case you haven’t noticed, things have been pretty chaotic recently and some pretty crappy stuff has happened in the world lately.”

  She collapses a little against my shoulder as she wipes her eyes with the paper towel. “No, it’s more complicated than that.”

  “I’m apologizing because I completely got up in my dad’s face today and I feel bad about it, but what I said to him wasn’t wrong. I’m just sorry because it really hurt him. I never, ever wanted to hurt him, but he was crushed. Today was the first time we’ve ever had an honest conversation about how angry he was that Onyx committed suicide. It broke my heart that we had it in the parking lot, in my car that needed to be cleaned out weeks ago. There was a bunch of garbage all over it. — it’s not the place that you should have life-changing discussions. It was just too sad,” she admits. “I never ever wanted it to go down that way. I had a whole strategy I was going to follow. My good intentions were blown out of the water when he started chewing me out for taking care of you.”

  I kiss the top of her head as I reply, “Jade, I’ve known your dad for a long time and what I know about him is that he often engages his mouth before he engages his brain. He’s a good guy, but he often forgets to show that side of himself. He can let go on one of his tirades and forget that someone else is in the room, let alone consider that he might be hurting someone else’s feelings. The bottom line is that there’s no excuse for him to do that. I’m sorry he was mean to you.”