Cut Loose

by Julia Wolf

  “Thirsty, huh?” she asked with an amused expression.

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Parched. I had a busy, busy night last night.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

  Eliza laughed. “Someone finally decent on Tinder?”

  I shook my head with a secretive smile on my face.

  “No? You actually met someone in real life without the help of technology?”

  I nodded, still smiling the same smile.

  “Are you torturing me on purpose?”

  When I nodded again she growled softly through gritted teeth.

  Laughing, I held my hands up. “Okay, okay! It was James! My Beardo.”

  “What?” She stepped closer and whispered, “I mean, I had a feeling from the way the two of you were making eyes at each other when he came to the salon. That had to have been the steamiest haircut I’ve ever seen. From the look on your face I’d say round two was an improvement.”

  I nodded vigorously. “So good, E. He must have had practice over the last six months. I mean, at first I definitely told him exactly what I wanted, but he damn well followed orders perfectly.”

  “I’m really glad you gave him a second chance. He seems like a good guy.”

  “Yeah, I’m still figuring him out. There’s so much I don’t know about him and I have to ask the exact right questions to get the information I want. But you’re right; I think he’s actually a good guy. I have no idea if this is going to go anywhere, or where I’d even want it to go, but I’m going to enjoy it for all it’s worth while I can.”

  Eliza nodded and sat silently for a moment, glancing around the small room. Then she looked back in my direction but didn’t quite meet my eyes. “Do you have plans tonight?” she asked.

  “Not really. Wine bar?”

  Eliza’s eyes continued to dart around the room. “Um, no. I wondered if…well, I have an appointment and I wanted to see if you’d come with me.”

  I scrolled through a mental catalogue of all the “appointments” friends had asked me to accompany them to over the years: STI test results, abortion, converting to a new religion, touring an apartment, court dates, etcetera. For Eliza’s sake, I hoped it involved touring an apartment, only because it would mean she might be moving out of dickhead Edward’s house.

  I found myself a little surprised she wanted me to go with her. We were friends, but nowhere near as close as Rachel and me. I couldn’t think of one time Eliza and I had ever done anything as just the two of us.

  “Sure, I’ll go with you,” I replied.

  “Don’t you want to know what kind of appointment it is?” Eliza blinked at me.

  I shrugged. “If you want to tell me. It’s not required, though. I like surprises.”

  The words rushed out of Eliza before I even finished my sentence. “It’s for a tattoo. I’m getting a tattoo tonight—I want you to come with me and not let me back out!”

  Now I had to blink back at her in surprise. Eliza with a tattoo? I couldn’t picture it. Maybe a tiny daisy or butterfly in a discreet location, but even that seemed a bit of a stretch.

  I was usually down for anything if someone needed me, so I would be there. Honestly, I wanted to witness Eliza getting a tattoo because I wasn’t sure I’d believe it if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. She was so buttoned-up, so prim and proper—the idea she’d mark her skin permanently seemed contradictory to everything I knew about her.

  “Okay, E. I’ll hold your hand. Do you know what you want?” I asked.

  “Yes. I’ve been emailing back and forth with the artist for a while. He drew up exactly what I described and had an opening tonight. I need to do it.”

  “Well, now I’m even more intrigued! I can’t wait to see what you’re getting.” I rubbed my hands together excitedly.

  “Can we keep this between us?” she asked softly.

  I met her eyes and nodded. Something was clearly going on with her, but I’d do as she asked. I wouldn’t press. And maybe that was exact reason Eliza had come to me in the first place.

  She sighed with relief. “Thank you, Frannie. After your last client we can go over to the shop.”

  I agreed and spent the rest of the day alternating between concentrating on my clients and wondering what was behind the urgency and secrecy in Eliza getting a tattoo.

  Since we both had our own cars, I met Eliza in front of the old mill at the edge of town. Once a working factory, it had been abandoned for years until recently when the bottom floor was converted to artist lofts. “The Tattoo Mill” took up the first loft with windows facing the parking lot. From the outside it appeared brightly lit and clean. When we went inside, we were greeted with loud rock music and a cheerful tattooed man who appeared to be in his fifties or sixties. It was hard to tell his exact age since most of his skin was covered in so much ink, each tattoo blended into the next.

  “You must be the wonderful Eliza who’s been emailing me,” he said, a huge grin on his face. I immediately warmed to him while hating myself at the same time. Had I spotted him on the street before this, I probably would have crossed to the other side.

  Eliza gave him a strained smile. “And you’re Skull?” she asked. Skull? For some reason his name made me warm to him even more.

  “I am indeed,” he confirmed.

  I stepped forward. “Hi, Skull, I’m Frannie, Eliza’s moral support.”

  He scanned me up and down. “Well, aren’t you a tall one? Don’t worry, I won’t ask if you play basketball.” He smiled when I laughed. I liked him. “Let’s go to my station and we can go over the plan.”

  We followed him through the shop where there were several customers in various stages of being tattooed. His cubicle was the last one and when I surveyed his space, I was glad to see it was sparkling clean. I hadn’t seen his work yet, but at least I could tell he’d take good care of Eliza.

  Skull pulled out a hand drawn stencil from a folder—an alarmingly large stencil. He held it out to Eliza and asked her what she thought.

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered. She placed it on the inside of her forearm where it stretched from her wrist to the crook of her elbow. “I love it.” She smiled shyly.

  My eyes widened both at the size and the image. “That’s what you’re getting, E?”

  She nodded and looked up at me. “Yes, Skull and I worked on this design together. He really got what I was going for. Isn’t it lovely?”

  “Of course it is. But it’s the whole inside of your arm! You don’t have any other tattoos, do you?” I asked.

  “No, but I need this one.” Again, she used the word “need.” I narrowed my eyes but didn’t say any more as Skull prepared the stencil and placed it on her skin.

  Skull had drawn a pair of Victorian-style scissors with an ornate pattern running down the blades, two big flowers and vines in the background. It was a true work of art, but I was still having a hard time picturing Eliza with such a large tattoo on her skin.

  I sat down on her left side and held her hand as he began the tattoo. Eliza was strangely serene, with a slight smile on her face as she stared unblinking at the ceiling.

  Skull tattooed her for a solid hour before he took a break. He went to get Eliza some juice and to stretch his back.

  “It looks good, E.” I leaned over her to study her arm. “Does it hurt?”

  She held up her arm, and a slow smile formed on her lips. “It’s not too bad,” she said. A tear escaped the corner of her eye, but she quickly wiped it away.

  “Is he going to be able to finish tonight?” I asked. I didn’t have any tattoos, but now that I saw Eliza’s I was curious.

  “No, Skull says I’ll have to come back at least one time for the shading and color. Tonight, we’re just doing the outline since it’s my first time and it’s so detailed.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe you have a tattoo!”

  “Me neither, Frannie. I didn’t see this coming,” she replied.

  I laughed, not at all sure
what she meant. “Wasn’t this your idea?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course. It’s just…Edward will hate this, absolutely hate it. My mother will probably never speak to me again when she sees it. I don’t usually rock the boat.”

  Skull came back with orange juice for Eliza and after she’d had a few sips he got back to work on her arm. For the next hour I alternated between playing with my phone—and staring at James’ picture—and watching the progress on her ink. Admittedly, I was feeling a little jealous of the beautiful artwork he was putting on her body.

  Skull wiped her arm and sat back. “Okay, we’re going to stop here for now. Your skin is pretty red, missy, so let’s give you a break. We’ll work on some shading in three weeks.”

  Eliza’s eyes were glassy, but she was grinning. “Thank you, Skull! You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  He gave her a sympathetic smile and patted her shoulder. “I understand, Miss Eliza.”

  “Hey, Skull?” I said.

  He turned to me and winked. “Heeey, Frannie.”

  “Do you happen to have time to give me a really tiny tattoo? I don’t have any but being here is giving me the urge.”

  He nodded. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

  “What about a miniature version of E’s? Just the shears, maybe an inch or two long?”

  He thought for a moment. “I can do that. Where do you want it?”

  I lifted up the back of my short hair and pointed to my neck, right below the hairline. “Right here?”

  “Okay! Give me a minute to draw something up and clean up my chair.”

  Eliza and I went out to the lobby and Skull went back to his cubicle. I was so jittery I felt like I’d just had ten cups of coffee.

  “Who knew you’d be the bad influence?” I said to Eliza.

  “I can’t believe we’re getting matching tattoos! I feel like we’re sorority sisters on Spring Break or something,” she joked. She looked lighter than she had when she approached me in the break room that afternoon, as if getting the tattoo had brought her some relief.

  “Gamma Alpha Kappa!” I exclaimed in my best valley girl voice. I knew nothing about sororities since I was busy dancing professionally when I should have been in college, but it sounded official to me. I squeezed her hand. “I’m not sure we’re getting matching tattoos since mine is going to be a tenth of the size of yours. But I’m happy you asked me to come.”

  “Me too,” Eliza said.

  Skull called us back to his cube and got to work on my skin. The tattoo wasn’t really painful, just an annoying, slightly burning buzz on the back of my neck. Skull drew a tiny pair of scissors that still had ornate detail despite their small size. When he showed me the final result in a mirror, I jumped up and down laughing.

  “I love it! I never knew I wanted a tattoo, but this is fucking adorable!” After he showed me how to take care of it, I kissed his inked-up cheeks, paid the man, and Eliza and I stepped out into the night.

  I turned to my friend and asked, “So, are you going to tell me what this was about?”

  She sighed and dipped her head. “I found a ring,” she said quietly.

  “What do you mean, honey? What kind of ring?”

  Eliza looked up with tears in her eyes. “An engagement ring in Edward’s drawer.”

  I sucked in a breath. In no way, shape, or form should my friend and her dickhead boyfriend ever get married. He was the worst, and she let him walk all over her. I didn’t know what she was getting out of the relationship or why she stayed, but there was something anchoring her to him.

  “How do you feel about that?” I asked carefully.

  “I don’t want to marry him. I don’t even like him very much. I just don’t know how to leave.” She started sobbing. Through her tears, she said, “I got this tattoo so he’d leave me.”

  I pulled her into a tight hug. “What do you mean, E?”

  She wiped her tears and stepped away. “He thinks tattoos are gross and low class. I hope he’ll take one look at me tonight and be so disgusted he’ll pack his bags.”

  “You know you can come stay with me and Laurel if you need to,” I said. “There’s no reason you can’t be the one to leave. You have people who love you.”

  “I know. Thank you, Frannie.” She looked down at her bandaged arm and exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m getting there.”

  We hugged again and with squared shoulders Eliza went to her car and drove away. But just as I was about to walk to my car, I noticed Skull had come outside for a smoke. He crossed his arms and shook his head.

  “Your friend is in a lot of pain. I hope tonight was a step in the right direction for her.”

  “You’re a good dude, Skull. Thanks for taking care of us.”

  He saluted me, tossed his cigarette on the ground, and went back inside.

  My hands shook as I put the key in the ignition of my car. Seeing my friend buried so deep in a shitty relationship she didn’t know which way was up or down was just too much for me. This is why I don’t do relationships. Surely Eliza and Edward started off making each other laugh and smile—although I couldn’t really picture him doing either—but over time it devolved into the mess it was now.

  I was tired and raw and emotional. I hoped tonight would be the catalyst for Eliza making a change for the better. All I could do was love her and keep reminding her she’d have a soft place to land when she finally jumped.

  I pulled into my parking garage with tears in my eyes. I took a deep breath. Right now, the only thing I could think to do to ease the ache Eliza’s pain had started in my heart was having James’ strong arms around me. It should have terrified me, needing him so. And it did, a little. But he made me feel safe and I didn’t have the energy to analyze that feeling at the moment. So instead of going upstairs, I crossed the street to see my man.

  Nineteen

  James was behind the bar when I walked in. He was busy filling drink orders, so I stood in the entrance watching him. I bit my lip at the way his biceps moved when his arms straightened and bent. We’d just been together that morning, but it seemed a million years ago already.

  “Hey, Frannie!” Perky bartender Val pulled me out of my trance, walking by with a tray full of drinks.

  “Hi, Val,” I answered shakily. Seeing James hadn’t made me feel any less off-kilter.

  The old-timers were gone for the evening, but I said hi to a few familiar faces on the way to the bar. By the time I made it there, James was waiting for me.

  I sat down on the stool in front of him. “Hi, James.”

  He nodded once. “Hi, Frannie. I wondered if I’d see you today,”

  Smiling slightly, I said, “You have my number now, you know.”

  He exhaled loudly. “I do. I just wanted to see if you’d come to me. Seems I’m always coming to you.”

  I held my hands out. “Here I am.” I tried to say it brightly, but my voice wavered, and he heard it.

  “What’s going on? You okay?” He looked so concerned and so sweet that my eyes misted up without my permission.

  Instead of trying to explain that I wasn’t sure I was okay or tell him about Eliza, I leaned over the bar and tugged him toward me by his beard. I planted my lips on his and burrowed my hands in his beard. He was surprised, but he kissed me back as much as he could with a bar between us.

  James pulled back and cradled my cheek with his hand. “You okay?” he asked again.

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “I just missed you.”

  Without a word, James walked to the end of the bar and ducked under the opening. Then he walked back, pulling me up. James gathered me in his arms and said into my hair, “I missed you too, Francisca.”

  His rumbly voice in my ear and his arms encompassing my body had me wet for him in an instant.

  “Can you take a break for a few minutes?” I asked him, my voice coming out huskier than normal.

  He dropped his towel down on the bar, waved a hand to Val, and pulled me into t
he dim storage area at the back of the bar. He turned to me and studied my face. “Are you okay?” he asked yet again.

  I threw my arms around his neck. “I will be when you’re inside me.”

  James inhaled deeply through his nose. “You need me?”

  I nodded and pressed my lips together.

  He pushed his hips into mine. He was already getting hard. “Right now?”

  “Immediately. I’m desperate for you.”

  Our mouths collided, and I opened wide, letting him roam wherever he wanted. There was no finesse to our kiss, only taking and giving. Without looking down, I unbuttoned his jeans and slid my hand inside to grab his silky hard shaft. He groaned into my mouth and rocked into my hand.

  When James grasped the back of my neck, I whimpered, and he pulled back. Fingering the bandage gently, he asked, “What’s this?”

  “I got a tattoo,” I said.

  “Can I see?”

  I nodded, taking my hand out of his pants. Slowly, I peeled the bandage off and turned around. James pushed my hair up and gently touched the skin surrounding my fresh tattoo.

  “It’s tender,” I warned.

  “Pretty,” he said.

  He leaned in and kissed all around it, taking special care not to touch the sore area. Then he pressed his body against my back and wrapped his arms around my ribs, stroking my stomach through the thin material of my T-shirt. I laid my head on his shoulder and arched my ass against his erection.

  I was tender and raw enough already. I didn’t want James to be soft with me. I needed to be taken hard, to be reminded I was whole and strong. That I could take this big man into my body and let him have me without disappearing.

  Reaching behind me, I gripped his erection and pumped him slowly, while circling my hips against him at the same time. James pushed my shirt and bralette up and roughly palmed my breast, thumbing the pebbled nipple.

  “Yes, James! Don’t be gentle with me,” I rasped.

  He pushed me against the wall and his mouth clamped down on my shoulder, biting and sucking a path up my neck. I circled my hips, needing friction, needing more.