Inked Souls (The Shaw Effect Duet)

by Lucia Grace

  Copyright © 2017 Lucia Grace All Rights Reserved

  Published by: Lucia Grace

  Cover Design by: Kari March Designs

  Edited by: Emerald Eyes Editing

  Formatted by: Champagne Book Design

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Lucia Grace

  About the Author

  For those longing to find their place in this big, bad world.

  You belong.

  “Some things and some people, are written in your soul with permanent ink.”

  —JmStorm

  SLIPPING MY SUNDRESS ON OVER my head, his hands follow the flow of the cotton as it travels from my shoulders, down my back, and settles over my hips left bare from my seated position on the side of the bed. The bottom of the sundress pools at my waist, my bare feet left to dangle above the hardwood floors of his bedroom from my high perch on his four-poster bed. An odd piece of furniture for a single guy in his early thirties, but it suits the arrogance that swims around him.

  He places a kiss to my dress-covered shoulder blade at the same time his large hands squeeze my hips. He’s still laying behind me, naked from our last time rolling around in his soft, satin sheets.

  I met Clark at the diner where I work. I had never seen him before the day he walked in almost two weeks ago. All distinguished and polished in his tailored suit, shiny black shoes, and salt-and-pepper, slicked-back hair. He was the classiest thing I’d ever seen in this small, rundown town. I knew he had to be about ten years older than my twenty-four years, but he didn’t seem to care when his eyes settled on me behind the counter as the bell dinged above his head.

  And they never left me as he found a vacant booth by the window, and as if it were fate, in my section. His heated stare caused the all-too-familiar butterflies to take flight in my belly and the heated blush to erupt over my chest and up into my cheeks.

  I remember taking a deep breath, grabbing the fresh pot of coffee I had just brewed, and squaring my shoulders as I walked hesitantly over to him.

  He smiled. My breath faltered. And it was just like every time before that…before him. His charm and attention seemed to steal my heart right from my chest.

  From that day on, Clark made it his mission to sweep me off my feet. Little did he know he already accomplished that the very first day we met, when he took the time to learn my name and ask a few simple questions about the town.

  And me.

  He was actually interested in me.

  He was driving through on his way into the neighboring city and stopped for a small bite to eat and cup of coffee to wake himself up. He said it was the best decision he ever made.

  Now, as I take in his bedroom around me for the first time, I’m beginning to believe he’s right.

  “You don’t have to go, you know.” His voice breaks the silence and wraps around me. His hands travel from my hips up over my bare thighs. Goosebumps rise on my skin.

  “I’m opening at Ralph’s in the morning. It’s after midnight, and I have almost an hour drive. As it is, I will only manage a few hours’ sleep if I’m lucky.”

  He huffs a breath, removes his hands from my body, and sits up against the headboard. I turn my head to look at him before he responds. “I can drive you in the morning, Kennedy.” He offers a smirk as his eyes travel over my face and neck, down my chest to my too-large-for-my-frame breasts. His eyes heat again. “Stay so I can take that sundress back off of you and show you—”

  His words are cut off as his bedroom door bursts open and hits off the wall. My head whips to the left, and my eyes widen in shock at the woman standing in the doorway.

  Chest heaving.

  Eyes red and swollen.

  Face streaked with tears.

  My heart shatters right there because without her uttering one word, I know; I absolutely know that it’s happened again. That I’ve fallen for yet another man who’s just used me and my need to be wanted to his advantage.

  “You lying, cheating son of a bitch!” she screams into the quiet serenity of the bedroom.

  “Mallory, please. It isn’t what you think!” Panic laces Clark’s voice as he scrambles from the bed stark naked to pull on his discarded boxers he picks up from the floor.

  So that’s what it sounds like when someone really cares for someone else.

  “Isn’t what it looks like? Care to explain how it should look for me to find my husband of almost three years naked in our bedroom with a woman who isn’t me!” she shrills.

  Husband. He’s her husband.

  Well, I can say without a shadow of a doubt this is the lowest I’ve ever been. Sleeping with a married man. How did I not know?

  “Mallory—”

  “Shut up, Clark!” Her eyes leave her husband and scan over to me. Bloodshot and narrowed and glaring. “Get out, you home-wrecking slut. You aren’t needed anymore!”

  I hold back the gasp of pain and tears her words inflict and stand from my still-seated position of shock on their four-post bed. I was the one who was lied to, made to feel worthy and wanted when I was only being used, but her evil glare lets me know she’s putting all the blame on me.

  Clark’s wife is still standing by the open door to their bedroom. I have to turn to the side and slide by her to ensure we don’t touch after I grab my bag from the floor by the bed. All the while knowing Clark isn’t asking me to stay, begging me not to go, or offering any words at all.

  Not even goodbye.

  As I clear the doorway, the tears start to fall, and I hear an enraged and strangled sob-filled scream tear from her throat, causing me to stop in my tracks and turn to face them yet again.

  Clark’s wife is pounding her fists against his rapidly-heaving chest as she wails and shakes. I can hear him muttering his apologies and endearments over her pained cries of betrayal and disgust. She tries to push him away, but he just holds on tighter, trying to save them with his words and tender touch.

  Not being able to take a second more, I rush down the stairs and in my haste almost fall to my face as I trip over the last step. I right myself before crashing through the still-open fr
ont door into the humid night air, my tears and fears and pains unleashed through the sobs wracking my body as I stumble to my car.

  Slamming the driver’s side door, my shoulders slump against the cloth-covered seat, and I hang my head until my forehead touches the cool leather of the steering wheel.

  My sobs don’t stop. They erupt. Ripping me apart from the inside out. Exposing the raw, unbridled agony that I’ve lived with my whole life.

  Never being good enough.

  Never being wanted or cherished or needed.

  But only ever seeking that feeling of affirmation and contentment.

  Only ever wanting to be loved and to belong to someone, to anyone. Leaving me wide open to be used and discarded like the nothing I’m always going to be.

  Well not anymore. I’m done being used and abused. Done being cast aside like I mean nothing. Done being made to feel like I’m insignificant.

  I need a fresh start—a new beginning—where my past doesn’t follow every move I make.

  THE BRAKES MAKE A SHRILL squeaking noise as I stop and shift into park in the lot behind what seems to be one of the few restaurants in town. It’s more of a bar than a restaurant, but In Ruins is the third establishment I’ve stopped at since I arrived into Sunvale just a couple of hours ago in hopes of finding a job.

  The diner down the street wasn’t hiring, and the small, upscale cafe gave me one look and sent me on my way. Apparently, my cut-off jean shorts and flowing, deep purple tank top gave the wrong impression. It may not have been the best idea to stop in straight after pulling my beat-up Corolla into town, but I’m more worried about finding a job than the appearance of my clothes at the moment. That may be backwards, but it isn’t like I’m going for a CEO position here. The only experience I have is waiting tables and slinging a few drinks. Community college wasn’t my thing, so waiting tables is all I know.

  As I turn off the ignition, I huff a deep breath and scan the almost-empty lot. It’s between lunch and dinner times, so I’m assuming there’s just a lull between shifts. With any luck this place is hiring. I didn’t notice a sign when I drove by the front window, but I’m hoping it’s busy enough that they can add one more. I’ll even take part-time, washing dishes, anything.

  I just need something to go my way and to help make my abrupt move worth it. For my decision to use the change in scenery to help find the strength I harbor in myself and not in the false love and promises of manipulating men.

  Last week after I rushed out of Clark’s home that he shared with his wife, I knew I had to put a stop to the self-destructive path I kept walking down. Ralph was understanding about the changes I needed to make for me, my boss at the diner being the only person I ever really had in my life for any significant amount of time.

  He didn’t make me wait out the full two weeks when I gave my notice. He said once I finished out the week I could leave with full pay for two, and I could have kissed him. Heck, I did on the cheek because no one had ever cared enough about me before to do anything like that.

  So once Friday rolled around, my bags were packed with my clothes and the few belongings I acquired over the years, and I was on the road to my new beginning. Hoping to leave behind the loneliness and desperation that my small town always suffocated me with.

  I take one more fortifying breath to release the past that still haunts me before I step out of my old beater, shut and lock the doors, then make my way around the side alley to the front door as I shoulder my bag.

  When I step inside, there are a few patrons sitting around the bar and occupying a couple of booths dispersed throughout the space. The smell of beer, citrus, and bar food fills the air as I take in my surroundings.

  My eyes survey the dark cherry wood bar as I finish my scan of the space and settle on the woman behind it who appears to be taking inventory of the stocked bottles next to her. She has bright cranberry-red hair that hits mid-back with fair skin. Her tight, black tank top emblazoned with IN RUINS across the back reveals the half sleeve of tattoos on her right arm and what seems to be a smattering of other tats along her left and what’s visible of her back. The bright, intricate colors and designs strike an even starker contrast between her hair and porcelain skin.

  With another deep breath, I walk farther inside and straight to the bar.

  “Can I help you, doll?”

  The slightly raspy voice has me raising my head and locking with dark eyes. I didn’t realize I was looking down at the floor until I heard her speak. Her assessing, dark gaze takes me in from my head to my nervous, fumbling hands to my flip-flop-covered feet before my bare legs become hidden as I lean against the smooth bar top.

  “Uh—” I clear my throat as anxiety starts to claw through me. “Yeah, I was…I was wondering if you happened to be hiring? I’m new to town, just got in actually, and I’m looking for something. Anything really. I have a lot of experience waiting tables, a little behind the bar, but I’ll even wash dishes or…” I trail off and trap my bottom lip between my teeth as I see a small smile lift her full, deep-red painted lips at my rambling.

  “What’s your name, honey?”

  “Kennedy James.” My voice is soft and low compared to her raspy, exuberant tone.

  “Well, Kennedy James, I’m Saylor Shaw, and I think today is your lucky day. We just so happen to be looking for a new waitress.”

  Her smile is blinding, and soon I know mine must match it. There’s just something about her that puts me at ease. Makes me feel like I belong.

  Relief quickly follows my elation.

  “Thank you. That is such a relief to hear.” Her smile turns knowing, almost like she can tell I was at my breaking point. I may have just arrived, but the stress of the move, my anxiety, and the worries of finding a job in a new place were enough to tear me down.

  “You said you’re new in town?” Saylor asks, turning fully and leaning against the shelf next to the bottles behind her.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “I would have remembered seeing a pretty face such as yours.” She winks and smiles again. Mine dims a little. My looks are always what people notice, what men long for. My looks are what continue to lead me down the path of desperation I’m always following.

  I shake my head and plaster on a brighter smile. But it must be too late because Saylor’s eyes flash a little bit of sadness and apology, knowing her remark brought something unpleasant to mind for me.

  “Thank you,” I reply in kind, not wanting to be rude despite the air growing tense around us. I may not have grown up in a traditional household, but I learned my manners.

  Saylor doesn’t let that slightly-awkward moment deter her though. Before I can ask any questions about the job, she cuts in. “Since you’re new in town I bet you need a place to live as well, huh?”

  My face must turn curious to her inquiry because she continues. “Since you said you just arrived to Sunvale and your first stop was probably to look for a job, I’m assuming you don’t have a place set up to stay yet.”

  “Right,” I reply as I nod my head. “That’s the next order of business. I figured worst case I can stay at a local motel for a little while until I find something.”

  Saylor snorts. “The Sunvale Motel isn’t even suitable for a rat to live in, and the closest to town is almost an hour away. Traveling to work would be a bitch.”

  “Oh.”

  “But like I said earlier, today must be your lucky day because I just so happen to be looking for a roommate.”

  “That’s an amazing offer, but we’ll already be working together and we don’t even know each other. I can’t expect you to allow a stranger to live with you.” And it can’t be this easy. Can it? Nothing ever just happens for me.

  Not ever.

  She snorts out a laugh this time. “Nonsense, doll. Honestly. I have a two-bedroom apartment, and I only need one of those rooms to sleep in. The other is just sitting there empty. So it’s yours if you want it. It’s clean and affordable. And as for being worried about us
being strangers? I think we’ll be able to solve that in no time.” Her perfect, white teeth shine bright through her growing smile. I know I must be standing here with my eyes as wide as saucers.

  Breaking into our conversation and my utter shock, an older man looking to be about sixty comes barreling from the back room, bottles clanking around in the box he’s carrying.

  “Sugar, this should be everything. I couldn’t find the extra bottle of fireball—” He stops mid-sentence when he sees me standing with Saylor, who rounded the end of the bar.

  “Why hello there, sweetheart.” He smiles and offers a wink.

  I blush slightly and smile. “Hi,” I offer simply. Quietly.

  “Gus, this here is Kennedy James, my new roommate and our new waitress. She’s new to Sunvale.” They share a look before Gus nods and places the box next to the bar, then leans over, arm outstretched, to take my hand.

  “Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m glad to know my girl here found us the help I apparently needed.” His graying, stubbled cheeks lift with his smile, and his pale blue eyes twinkle as he takes my small hand in his large, rough one, shaking it lightly.

  “You know we needed the help, old man. So hush your face,” Saylor sasses to Gus, who’s apparently her boss.

  And now mine.

  “Thank you. So much. I promise I have many years of experience and I shouldn’t need much training. And I can start as soon as you need me. But no rush, really…” I trail off when Gus’s plump middle section starts bouncing with his laughter and I hear Saylor’s raspy laugh float through the air. That’s when I realize I’m rambling. Again.