Damaged: Dare to Decide, Book 2

by Emilia Violet

  Just like Cranleigh had done to me. I'd given him my trust, my body, my love and he'd thrown it all back in my face. I couldn't bear to go through all that again, not with Liam. I wouldn't let him use me and then throw me away when he got bored. I was washing my hands of the whole idea of men. Who said I needed to be in a relationship to make a success of myself? I had a career that was on the verge of taking off, and even if it wasn't the job I would have chosen for myself, I was determined to make it work. I would put all my focus into my work and leave the men to play their games with someone else.

  “Hey you,” came a soft voice from behind me. I turned to see Olivia coming towards me, her white dress flowing out behind her, her face shining radiantly. She was flushed, her eyes sparkling and I couldn't remember a time when I'd seen her looking more happy. A pang of sadness washed over me as I realised I would never stand in her shoes, be the one in the white dress about to sail off into the sunset with my true love, but I swallowed it down and smiled, wrapping my arms around her petite figure in a tight hug.

  “Hey,” I grinned pulling back to look her in the eye. “So, you really did it. You're a married woman!”

  “I know. That sounds so strange.” She tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear, and I noticed her up-do had come loose. A satin covered button hung from one thread at the neck of her dress, desperately clinging on to the fabric, and I couldn't help but blush at the thought of what she and her new husband must have been doing.

  “You look happy.”

  “I am. I'm a little bit nervous too though. About the honeymoon. Did you hear that Kai wants us to travel for six months?”

  “Really? How will that work?”

  “Oh, he has it all arranged. His friend Ryan will take care of his clubs, and we can plan where we go around my violin concerts. I think it's going to be wonderful, but it's a little daunting. Six months of travelling is going to be full on.”

  I nodded. “But you always wanted to see the world properly, sweetie. Not just for work. Aren't you always complaining that you only ever get to see the hotels and airports? Six months of travel will mean you really get to explore all the places you want to go. Isn't that exactly what you've been waiting for?”

  “You're right. And of course I do want to go. I'm just getting butterflies at the idea of it. It's a good kind of nervous, I think. You know, like when it's pulling you way out of your comfort zone, but you know you have to do it because it's the right path to take?” Her dark eyes fixed on mine, wide and expressive.

  I nodded, though it had been a while since I'd stepped out of my own safe zone. “You're going to have an amazing time.”

  “I know.” She wrapped an arm around me, and we looked out over the beautiful garden, the sun sinking low in the sky now. Tiny fairy lights had begun to come on in the trees and bushes, making everything look magical and pretty.

  “I'm really going to miss you,” I said softly, my eyes still trained forwards.

  “Me too,” she squeezed my shoulder.

  “I don't think we've spent more than a week apart since we were fifteen. You, me, Saskia and Liliana... we've always been so close. Six months is going to feel like a lifetime.”

  “I'll call. As often as I can.”

  “Not too often. I want you to enjoy it. Be free.”

  Olivia turned to face me, smiling widely. “That's the right word. Free. That's what I feel now. It's crazy, isn't it? Marriage is supposed to be a burden, a responsibility, but he makes me realise how free I am. Choosing Kai was the bravest thing I ever did.” She squeezed my hand. “Come on, let's go back inside and dance.” She turned to go back in and I took a deep breath, composing myself. Everything was changing, and there was no point in fighting it. I took a last look at the magical English garden sparkling with a thousand fairy lights and then pushed my shoulders back, held my head high and followed Olivia back to the party.

  Chapter Three

  Liam

  I paused outside the door to Stallions and Sprites, taking a last drag of my cigarette before tossing it to the ground. Looking up, I saw Jared crossing the road towards me. He lifted a hand in a silent wave. “Hey Man,” I said, fishing the keys from my pocket and unlocking the tattoo studio. “Good night?”

  Jared groaned and rubbed his eyes. “The bits I remember were. You?”

  “Yeah, it was a late one. I drove Kai and Olivia to the airport. They should have landed on their big adventure by now.” I glanced up at the clock. It was ten forty-five a.m. and the first of the clients would be arriving at eleven. There was no point in opening any earlier – when I'd first bought the place, I'd quickly discovered that people didn't tend to enjoy being jabbed with needles before they'd had their morning coffee. The late start suited me just fine, I'd never craved a nine to five anyway.

  Jared ran his hand through his floppy blonde hair, brushing it out of his eyes with tattoo covered fingers, and gave a long, low whistle. “So, they really did it? I wondered if Kai would back out at the last minute.”

  “Of the wedding?”

  “Nah. The honeymoon.” He gave a shrug. “The pair of you have always been total work addicts. What the hell is he going to do with himself for the next six months?”

  “I'm pretty sure he'll think of something.”

  Jared grinned. “Smug bastard. Talk about having it all. A shit ton of cash and an absolute sort as his wife. He's landed on his feet there.” He dropped onto the sofa, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “So you going to be following in his footsteps then?”

  “What me? Get married? Fuck off!”

  “I meant travelling, dude.”

  “Oh.” I turned my back on him, thumbing through the appointment book, avoiding the look he shot me. “Nope, not me, man. I'd hate it. Like you said, I'm a fucking workaholic. I've got this place, the new branch in LA and I've worked myself to the bone to get this far. I'm not giving that up for a six month piss up in the sun.”

  “Kai has his nightclubs,” Jared pointed out.

  “That's different. He's got a manager. I'm an artist, man, just like you. You can't replace that with a manager. I love what I do. Would you give up work for six month of travel?”

  “I wouldn't take a lot of convincing,” Jared grinned. “Don't get me wrong, I love my work too. But I wouldn't be against the idea of setting up a little studio in Thailand or somewhere tropical where women live in bikinis all year round.”

  “You better not be planning to jet off anytime soon and leave us in the lurch,” I warned, only half joking. “Me and Tommy would have to work round the clock to get through the amount of bookings we've got coming in.”

  “That's your own damn fault for building up such a shining reputation. Lower their expectations and you won't have to work so hard,” he teased.

  “Good motto, I'll bear it in mind.”

  The door opened and Tommy walked in, followed closely by our new assistant-slash-receptionist, Sandy. Apparently, her ma had been obsessed with Grease. She'd told me her brother was called Kenickie. It sounded like a fun family to grow up in to me. I ran through the list of clients, doling out tasks and responsibilities and then went through to the back. Most tattoo studios were open plan, or just had a curtained off section behind the reception area, but when I'd designed Stallions and Sprites I'd wanted it to have a different feel to it. Intimate, private, the kind of place where the rich and famous would feel right at home. I'd designed four closed off, private rooms, more like a massage parlour than any tattoo studio I'd ever been in. It meant we could personalise the experience. The client could choose their own music, watch a film even, and the closed door somehow encouraged them to talk.

  I was always fascinated by the different reactions people had to pain. Some cried. Some went completely silent. And some divulged their deepest secrets. Having run Stallions and Sprites for six years, I knew more celebrity gossip than a tabloid journalist, but I never breathed a word and nor did my staff. The clients trusted us, and we'd built our success
on that. Not to mention the fact that between us we were the most talented tattoo artists in the country, if not the world, and I didn't give a damn if people thought I was arrogant to say it because it was fucking true. I pulled out a new box of latex gloves, putting a pair still in its packet on the metal tray beside the padded table.

  I caught sight of the photograph on the wall, me and Kai out in Chelsea for some event, his arm slung over my shoulder, a beer in my hand. Jared was right to be surprised about him taking off. I was too. I kept forgetting he was really gone and then suddenly, I'd remember and a feeling of emptiness would completely engulf me.

  It had always been just the two of us. Always. With parents like ours, we'd had to stick together, be each other's rocks. Our mum had walked out on the family when we were barely out of nappies, and our pa had been unimpressed by parenting, choosing to ignore us when he wasn't working a dead end job as a handyman, while letting our own home turn into a slum. Kai was two years older than me but we were as close as twins. Through everything we'd always known we could turn to each other, and now, he was gone, just like that. I had never imagined he would leave, not for so long. This was what falling in love did to you. Messed up your plans, your routines. Confused your head.

  “Liam!” Sandy called. “Your client's here!”

  I walked out to meet him, giving him the five star treatment, getting Sandy to put his music on and get him a coffee. She got him settled while I prepared his design and I talked to him as I transferred it to his skin. It was a chest piece, a bulldog taken from a photograph he'd brought in. “So, is this your dog?” I asked, sitting back on my stool.

  “It was. Seventeen years with me. He died last month.”

  I bowed my head. “This is a good way to remember him.”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, sniffing. “You ever had one?”

  “A dog?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Not since I was a kid.” The next track came on over the sound system and I gestured for him to lean back as I got started, my thoughts going to the only pet I'd ever had. I'd always loved dogs. I liked how uncomplicated they were. If you fed them and were good to them, they loved you with everything they had, even if you had barely anything to give back.

  Mine had been a Labrador mix that I'd found dumped in the bushes as a tiny pup, a common occurrence in Ireland. He'd been my best friend for eighteen months. Me and Kai had kept him in the shed, feeding him on whatever we could find, often going hungry ourselves to keep him healthy. We'd trained him to be the best dog in existence, but then one day he'd eaten some poisoned meat in the field belonging to our miserable bastard of a neighbour, and our dad had refused to take him to the vets. He'd died in agony, writhing in my arms, and I'd promised myself I would never get another dog. It hurt too much to lose them. I shook my head, trying to clear the image away.

  The client was the quiet sort, going into himself to cope with the pain of the needles, and I worked in silence, concentrating on getting the details just right, determined to give him a memorial to be proud of. Finally, I finished the portrait, leaning back and stretching the cramp out of my arms. “You're all done.”

  “Good. That hurt.”

  “These things tend to,” I laughed. I picked up a mirror, holding it up for him to see. “Happy?”

  “Very.” His eyes widened as he took the mirror from my hands, looking closer. “Shit. This is... wow.” He sat back, looking at me with shock in his eyes. “You're an artist, mate. You really are. This is incredible, I can't wait to show it to my wife, she's going to bloody love it. Thanks, mate, I really mean it.”

  I grinned. This was always the best part, seeing their faces at the end. “It's what I do,” I shrugged.

  Sandy walked through the doorway, a roll of cling film in her hand. Her black spiked hair and nose ring made her look tough, but she was softly spoken and so far one of the most efficient assistants I'd ever had. “You've got a visitor,” she smiled. “Shall I wrap him up?”

  “Please.” I shook hands with the client and walked out, finding Ryan standing in reception, his expensively cut suit contrasting massively with my ripped black jeans and black t-shirt. “Hey man, what are you doing here? Don't say you've run into trouble at the club already?”

  “Very funny. You know I could run it with my eyes closed.”

  “You probably could. No doubt my brother left you with a shitload of instructions?”

  “No one could accuse him of not being thorough,” Ryan laughed, leaning against the counter. “I am here about the club though. You'll be there on Friday?”

  “I'm not sure. Why?”

  “You should. We've got a burlesque theme, lots of dancers coming in,” he winked.

  “Is this Kai's plan or yours?”

  “Mine. I want to have some fun while the cat's away. So what do you say? An evening with beautiful ladies stripping down to their nipple tassels?”

  “All in the name of art, of course,” I added.

  “Of course. It's a classy place.”

  “It was. Who knows what kind of rep it will have by the time Kai comes back.”

  “Trust me, he'll thank me. So you'll come?”

  “Yeah, I'll be there. Someone needs to keep an eye on your schemes.”

  “You know I'm the best at what I do. Loki runs so fucking smooth I'm getting bored. How else do you think your big bro convinced me to come and step in for him? I needed something new to play with. I can't go leaving all this talent unused.”

  “That's what I like about you Ryan. You're so bloody humble.”

  “Fuck humble. I worked hard to be where I am, and so did you. And unless I'm remembering wrong, you're the most arrogant bugger of the three of us.”

  I gave a low chuckle. He was right. “I earned it.” I looked at the clock, then picked up the appointment book. I'd been tattooing the bulldog for well over five hours and it looked like Tommy had finished his first job early and started on the next client himself. I put the book down with a flick of the wrist. “I'm done for the day. You fancy going for a beer?”

  “Why do you think I'm here in person? Course we're going for a beer. Tell your staff they're on their own and I'll meet you out the front. We've got two years to catch up on!”

  Chapter Four

  Mia

  “Ooh, that's so pretty!” Liliana said, sprawling herself across my brand new double bed as I pulled on a cream silk dress, cut daringly short and leaving little to the imagination. It was hard to believe that at twenty-three years old, I'd only just graduated from a single bed to a double, but there had never been a need at my parents' house – after all, it wasn't as if I'd ever been allowed to bring anyone back with me. When I'd signed the rental contract on my very own flat three weeks ago, buying a bed that didn't look like it belonged to a seven year old was at the top of my list of priorities. It was symbolic really – a mark of my success. Though it had never been my dream career, I was starting to really make a name for myself as an interior designer and I loved the freedom and independence that came from making my own money. It was hard to believe the crazy amounts of cash people were willing to pay for me to come and redesign their homes, but I was more than willing to let them.

  I'd stayed with my parents far longer than I would have liked, but I'd been determined that when I finally left, not only would I stay in Chelsea, one of the most expensive places on the planet when it came to property, but I would do it off my own income. I didn't want my parents to have any say in it, or any control over my life. Accepting money would have meant exactly that. I frowned, looking at myself in the mirror, turning to see the back – or lack of back – to the dress. “It is pretty,” I agreed. “It's not really me though, is it?”

  “Why not?” Saskia asked, as she popped the cork on a bottle of champagne. She poured three glasses, handing one to me and passing a second to Lil. I took a sip and pursed my lips.

  “I don't know... it's a little... naked?”

  “Naked is good. Especia
lly with a body like yours,” Saskia grinned.

  “Shut up!” I laughed, throwing a pink bunny shaped slipper at her, which she dodged with a casual flick of her head.

  “The question is, do you like it?” Liliana asked.

  “I think I do. I guess it doesn't matter that it'll stand out like a sore thumb in my wardrobe.”

  “Wear it with confidence,” Saskia said firmly. “And if you feel nervous, just remember, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

  “So do you,” I smiled. “Both of you.” Lil was wearing a dark burgundy dress that had looked conservative on the hanger. It was cut to the knee, but as she'd pulled it on, Saskia and I had realised there was nothing conservative about it, the way it had clung to her every curve. She was a tiny, pint sized thing with golden blonde curls and huge blue eyes, but this dress transformed her from the innocent, wide eyed girl we knew, into pure sex on legs. She was stunning. She was also one of the sweetest people on the planet, and insanely clever too. In the past year alone, she'd been approached by no fewer than four scouts from modelling agencies and an agent promising her work as an actress. She'd turned them all down without a moments hesitation. She had no interest in fame, and I respected her all the more for sticking to her plans. She'd just finished a degree in Criminology and Psychology and tonight we were going out to celebrate her success.