Scandalous Heroes Box Set

by Latrivia Nelson

  “Well, let me put it this way — I don’t believe in astrology, it’s silly and a bunch of nonsense. Anyone with half a brain would be able to see that it is all a bunch of hogwash. Those that are lost follow such foolishness. I think we’re all searching for something to believe in, something that will make this messed up world make sense.”

  He grinned at her, and that grin made her slightly uncomfortable, as if he were planning to launch an attack.

  “Do you believe in God?” He temporarily removed his gloves, grabbed what appeared to be an old-fashioned cinnamon stick she’d seen on the tables of dilapidated coffee shops. He popped it in his mouth, as if he did that sort of thing every day and, she surmised, he probably did. He did have a continuous scent of cinnamon about him; only, she hadn’t recognized it as such during their first meeting. He rolled it around, then took a few leisurely chews.

  “Yes.”

  “So…” He removed it, set the thing down and continued. “You’ll believe that a man can walk on water, turn water into wine, cure the blind and fight Satan atop a mountain and survive, but you don’t believe that that same entity, in this case, God, could have assigned meanings to the days and times when we are born? Something so small, in the grand scheme of everything else He can do. Hmmmm…” He cocked his head to the side and grinned a bit wider. Her face flushed with heat. “I never said we didn’t have free choice; we do, despite what our astrological sign says, but we could be predisposed to some notions, some ways of life. Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “Well, because —” she started, but he cut her off, his brows dipped a bit. She assumed he was revved up, possibly angry, but his tone remained calm.

  “ That’s crazy to me… You’ll believe this man Jesus can cure a disease by just touching someone, but couldn’t possibly have the forethought to create something as magnificent, yet so simple, as astrology. It’s amazing how some people can limit themselves…”

  She couldn’t believe her ears. The man had initially shied away from heavy topics with her, but then it started — first the concept of sexual intercourse and its comparability to his line of work, now he’d gone overboard, delving into her religious beliefs which were none of his damn business, and yet, he attacked her all the same.

  “It is general, that’s why and the Bible speaks out against astrology.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “Yes I do!” She twisted her neck in his direction, her lips slightly apart.

  He chuckled, for now she was the angry one. Her heartbeat accelerated, her relaxed state completely compromised. She couldn’t believe his audacity. She turned away from him, gripped the pillow in front of her, stifling condemning words she yearned to hurl his way. All she wanted was a damn tattoo; she wasn’t paying this man to chastise her and talk about some damn moons and stars! Her life was not a box of Lucky fucking Charms!

  “Look, don’t get mad at me. You are the one who came in here insulting my beliefs. I didn’t say anything about your own views not being true or legitimate. I never said God wasn’t real, or a figment of your imagination. I know the word; I’ve read the bible from cover to cover.”

  “So has Satan. He even played a starring role. Big deal.” She rolled her eyes, causing the man to chuckle.

  “When was the last time you read Leviticus? Huh? ‘Leviticus 19:28, You shall not make any cuts on your body for the dead or tattoo yourselves. I am the Lord.’ Matter of fact, no woman during her menstrual cycle is to even leave the damn house!” He laughed. “That’s in there, too! On top of that, you shouldn’t even have a job, Ms. Fancy!”

  He kept on laughing, causing her to want to reach over and grab his beautiful face with her bare hands, and rip it off his damn skull. But then, she looked at him closer, really took him in. The man was truly amused, in a joking mood. She didn’t find it the least bit funny but he did have a point; she may have come on too strong regarding the whole astrology bit. She surmised he’d gotten worked up, defensive.

  “Look,” she said calmly, determined to keep the conversation on the right track. “You can read one horoscope and say, ‘Yup, that sounds like me.’ Then, you read another, and it sounds like you, too.”

  “Consider the source. The Saturday newspaper horoscopes are bullshit,” he blurted.

  “Ouch!”

  “I didn’t do anything to you.” He kept his head down, his eyes hidden, but she didn’t miss the smirk on his face like the tiny instigator that it was.

  “Something jabbed me. You poked me.”

  “You moved… I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. If I’d truly poked you, you’d know it…”

  Yes, her mind went there, even during this damn argument and despite the pain she was in. She couldn’t believe her sensual response, the way her damn pussy liked this motherfucker and the more shit he talked, the wetter the little kitty became… What a mess she was in, betrayed by her own crotch.

  “Try to not move your arm.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You did. When I said the word ‘bullshit’, the rotary muscle under your shoulder slightly revolved, and that is where I was working. As that muscle moved, it had a domino effect, causing the needle to skip, dig a bit deeper due to your sudden motion.”

  Just like that, Julian was no longer so fucking charming. A sinister layer lay under his cool, calm exterior. He had a trigger, and she had inadvertently pulled it. He was not kind and sweet, at all! Matter of fact, it became rather apparent that he was the wrong motherfucker to try and toy with. As her mother used to warn, ‘Don’t poke the bears!’ But Milan didn’t know Julian had fangs and worse of all, she liked that he bit…and he bit, hard. Oh how she loathed that this was happening.

  You know nothing about this man, and you were falling deeper into your crush for him as he talked. He is probably a looney, a psycho… Aren’t all these tattoo guys? Talking to me about astrology, taking me to that strange shop of his, talking about losing one’s virginity is like a damn tattoo and smiling while discussing horrible deaths. He’s crazy…

  She rolled her eyes, dismissing him.

  “You’re tense again.” He kept working. “When something irritates you, your muscles tell me before you do.”

  “If I was annoyed, then it was your fault but for the record, I’m not irritated.”

  “You are. You are the type of woman who thinks logically, and wants others to agree with you.”

  “Now to that, I say bullshit, at least to the latter part.” She smirked.

  “Let me guess, you work in a high stress job. You were tense when you called me the first time, you were tense the first time I met you, you are tense now. You have to have everything go in a linear fashion. I tried to offer you things, natural things, to help you relax, and you wouldn’t even look at first. I know what you think of me, Milan, and it’s cool, really it is. I’m accustomed to it.”

  “Well, since you believe you know everything, school me.” She chuckled. Now, he was doing it, too. She was irritated, but tried to cloak it under the guise of a laugh for she refused to let him see he was getting on her damn nerves.

  “You think I’m some tree hugger, a hippy, maybe even insane. You probably think I get high, too.” He infused his tone with iciness. “You think I’m completely into astrology, using it as my personal God, and live my crazy life with no rules or regulations. You think I don’t take life seriously, right? All I do is sit around drawin’ all night and day dreamin’… Selling witchy brews. You think I don’t know about you, but I do. I spent the first years of my career honing my craft, talking to thousands of customers. I like talking to people. You hear all sorts of stories, you know?” He kept on working, his hands busy, his gaze averted. She couldn’t deny what the hell he was saying; he had her pegged and she was stone cold busted so she did what many would do — remain quiet, lest she incriminate herself.

  “People open up to you like you’re a bartender when you do what I do. I’m not filling them with alcohol; I’m f
illing them with permanent ink, an intoxication far more powerful. Ink is binding. It fades, but never goes away, and a good artist will make sure it stays as beautiful as the first day it was done. So, people come back to me, and then they tell me more and more about their lives. Now, you’ve told me little of nothing, but we’ve only known each other for a short while. That doesn’t matter though. You don’t get me, but I totally get you. I can tell that you are smart, very smart. You carry yourself a certain way, to try and send a message that you’re in control, though today’s attire varied greatly from before. Today, you were trying to get attention.”

  “What?” She twisted her body and her face, too, now unable to ignore his rambling.

  “Stop moving or you’ll get stuck again…”

  It almost sounded like a threat.

  “Milan, I’m not trying to upset you. You said you wanted to talk, so I’m talking.”

  “Well, maybe from now on you just need to be quiet.” She rolled her eyes and turned away.

  He shrugged his shoulders, his grin even wider now, but kept silent.

  Oh no…you don’t get off that easy! She’d changed her mind just that fast…

  “What did you mean, trying to get attention?”

  “Do you want me to talk to you or not? You just said for me—”

  “Forget what I said,” she snapped. “Just tell me what you meant.”

  “You are dressed provocatively, as if being dressed that way would give you more courage...maybe even to flirt with me.”

  “You can’t be serious!” she guffawed, but made sure she didn’t flinch. “Please don’t flatter yourself. I hope you are just kidding; you have an odd sense of humor.” She softened a bit, realizing the man may have just been putting her on once again; at least she hoped so. The fact that he was right didn’t mean anything at all. She dismissed that thought, swept it under the rug in rapid speed.

  “No, I’m not kidding this time around, and you know that I’m telling you the truth. That’s okay, though. I’m not ashamed to tell you that I’m attracted to you.” His eyes narrowed as the buzzing seemed to increase. He leaned over and studied some detail on her shoulder with great intensity. “I can tell you that, and be okay with it. Doesn’t mean we are going out after this, or anything. It just means I appreciate beauty when I see it and my pride is not harmed by making the admission.”

  “Okay.” She huffed and glared at their reflection in the mirror. “You say you know me, that you get me, fine. I get you, too.”

  He smiled and sank his teeth into his bottom lip, driving her mad.

  “Tell me about myself…” he dared as he kept on working.

  “I think you’ve had a hard luck life. I think you have all those damn tattoos to try and hide and protect yourself. You are witty, a bit quirky, and never fit in anywhere. You’re smart...too smart for your own good. It makes you think you are better than other people sometimes, too.” Her raised eyebrow was met with a smirk.

  That’s right. I said it…

  “I think you love women, and sex, and all that entails, but your intellectualism prevents you from becoming a full-fledged jerk. I think you believe in astrology because it matches how you interpret the world. Your head is in the clouds, but your foot stands firmly on reality. I get you just fine!”

  She turned away and closed her eyes, pleased with herself, knowing deep within his ass had been read, toasted and thoroughly roasted.

  She heard him chuckle lightly, then louder.

  “Jeee-suuuus, Christ…yeah, that’s me. You do get me. Holy shit, I think you just made me fall in love with you!” He burst out laughing so hard, she had to look at him. A vein protruded in the middle of his forehead; she longed to touch it.

  What in the hell?! I just handed him his own ass and he laughs, agrees and carries on like not a damn thing happened? Julian…Lord help you…

  She kept quiet as she let his words marinate, a strange feeling of contentment sweeping over her. This conversation felt like a damn roller coaster and the more time passed, the more drawn to him she became. He was an enigma, but yes…she really did understand him…

  “I’m an accountant.” She offered a peace pipe, fragrant and sweet like a succulent Georgia peach.

  He nodded. “Yes, I can see that you’d be drawn to that sort of profession.”

  “What, based on astrology?” she teased. “You don’t even know my birthday though.”

  “I do.”

  She searched her mind for when and where he could’ve found that out. He didn’t go up front to see the paperwork…

  “I don’t know the exact time you were born, however, so I don’t have the full picture. Angela, my assistant and receptionist, always emails me in advance the birth date of each customer I work on,” he confessed, taking her out of her confusion-driven misery. “She knows I want it. It helps me find out things that can aid in their relaxation. When you made the appointment, she asked for your birthday, amongst other bits of information. That gave me twenty-four hours to prepare. That’s why you have the white tea, why I changed the music and also why there is a yellow rose behind your ear. It is also why I anticipated you becoming annoyed with me.

  “I knew, the more I opened up and talked, what the potential of this conversation would be. We are very different people, but we have a natural curiosity about one another. On one hand, you are very serious — rigid almost. On the other hand, you want to know more about everything and everyone. You do believe that our existence is bigger than what we see. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t even be lying here getting your mother on your arm. You have questions…and for the record, just so you know…” He laughed. “I don’t get high, Milan.” He didn’t give her the chance to respond, to defend herself.

  “I don’t smoke anything, though I’m not against those that smoke for healing. I do chew on the end of lit incense from time to time… I am into taking care of my body. I don’t eat meat; I’m a vegetarian. I exercise. I meditate. I box for fun, too. I like being physically active, especially since I’m required to sit so much for my job. It’s a way to get my negative energy out, to get balanced. I also enjoy reading.”

  Milan buried her chin into the headrest and sighed.

  “What do you like to read?” she asked. The man intrigued the fuck out of her. Resistance was futile.

  “All sorts of things, especially non-fiction, like books on metaphysics, natural cures, sensuality, art, design, astrology, health. I’ll read almost anything though. I believe that we can learn from just about anything we see. It’s just a matter of having a good filter, and finding the gold even in something that appears to be worthless.”

  Sensuality…

  “Tell me a little more about yourself, Milan.” He moved his chair away, extended his arm. The needle became tight as he went into detail along his artistry.

  “Well, I do work a stressful job, but it wasn’t always that way. It seems that when one thing goes wrong, everything follows.” She didn’t give a shit anymore. The man gave her a platform to purge. They’d already had their first argument like an old married couple; the ice had been broken. She lay half-naked, he was jabbing her, and they’d discussed everything from God to getting high. So she tossed her pride aside and cut loose. “I used to love my job, and then they promoted this bastard who can’t handle having a little power. He used to be just a co-worker, but now, he is the guy I have to report directly to. I can’t even bring myself to call him my manager and what really burns me up is, he is not qualified! Now, the guy above him, Garrett, is a really good person and I’ve been debating reporting his butt to him, but that could start all sorts of trouble.”

  Milan shook her head and realized at that moment that Julian had been right. People did treat him like a bartender. Just like that she’d rolled out her woes, pushed the bastard face first down a hill, and lest she admit it, it felt good, almost healing.

  “Go on,” he encouraged as he kept his hand steady, the needle moving about her stretched skin
just so.

  “Well, they are friends and though I know you may not agree with this, I’ve seen it too many times — white men will protect other white men, even if they like the person from the minority group that is complaining on an issue. No matter how much Garrett enjoys me as a person and thinks my work is good, he could take Martin’s side and then things could potentially get even worse for me.”

  “You don’t have an argument from me there. I will say this however: it’s not only the white race that does that. Race is a made-up paradigm anyway, but there isn’t any need to get into all of that. Anyway, yeah, people with physical similarities tend to cling to one another. We evolve when we understand that we are not races at all in the first damn place. We are just people, with different cultures.”

  This man truly surprised her.

  “We tend to gravitate towards people we perceive as similar to us, and we will protect those people, based on that likeness. The key is to realize that just because someone appears similar to you, it doesn’t mean they have your best interest at heart.” And with that, he swiped at her flesh with another moistened cotton ball, and continued along his way.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, your manager and the big boss are both white men, right? They like each other, they have their sex, gender and racial identification in common. They may like similar teams regarding sports and have similar political and religious views. Find out what your boss likes, the manager, find something in common, and see if you can talk about that with him. People don’t naturally gravitate towards differences, oddities or strange situations unless they have that sort of personality. I am one of those peculiar people that do.” He grinned really wide now, showcasing that gorgeous, sexy grin of his.