by Joy Eileen
He reached over and brushed the tears cascading down my cheek away. “He said he would understand if you didn’t want to get a tattoo but wanted me to let you know this is your drawing, and that he won’t put it on anyone else. Don’t cry, Slick. You won’t hurt anybody’s feelings if you don’t like it.”
I shook my head, trying to form words. “I love it. It's perfect, and I would love for Taze to tattoo this on me. When can we get it done?” I asked, eager to get such a beautiful piece of who I was tattooed on me.
“He said he would come in tomorrow if you decided you wanted it.”
“Tomorrow-it’s a date!”
The rest of the day was spent eating way too much food, including dessert. We played the games I’d had gotten everyone, and somehow, they all morphed into drinking games, making me buzzed by the time Kill carried me up to bed.
I called my dad and wished him and Martha a great trip before going to sleep. I pretended to be sober long enough to tell him I wanted to hear about everything when he got back, then amended myself and told him I didn't want to hear everything.
I squeaked goodbye when Kill's lips latched around my nipple. “I love you, Slick. Merry Christmas,” he whispered into my hair.
“I love you too.”
“I love you more, Slick,” he replied.
“I love you the most.” I knew he heard me, because I felt his lips move into a smile against my hair.
The next day, Kill drove me over to Taze’s shop so I could get my new tattoo. I couldn't stop staring at the sketch as the excitement washed through me.
“I should’ve gotten you a tattoo sooner. I had no idea you were into pain,” Kill said, laughing at me as we parked in the back lot.
I smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Would you rather I be shrinking in fear, because I'm about to have a needle going in and out of my skin?” I asked, unbuckling my seatbelt.
“Nope, I like you just the way you are.”
My heart melted, and I leaned over and kissed him. He yanked me into his lap, and our kiss became more heated. I leaned back so he could have more access to my neck, and a loud honk sounded, startling us both. My cheeks heated red at the interruption.
“I guess that's our signal to get out of the car before we get arrested for indecent exposure,” Kill said as I slid off his lap.
We walked hand in hand to the door of the shop. I shrank into my Halestorm hoodie when the rain soaked it, making me shiver. Taze opened the door before we even reached it. We went around him, pounding our feet on the mat by the door to shake some of the water off.
“I thought I was going to get a show,” Taze said, laughing. “Damned horn.”
More blood rushed to my face when Taze pointed to the security camera perched in the corner.
Stace came over and pushed Taze playfully. “Stop it. I promise I made him stop watching as soon as you two started kissing. He’s just being a butt.”
Taze laughed harder, and I had the urge to hide behind Kill. “Sorry, Faith,” Taze said, trying to look contrite but not quite pulling it off.
“Alright, are you ready to get inked? I love working with virgin skin,” he said, looking me over. He didn't get much of a look since I was bundled up from head to toe.
“Well, let’s go pop my tattoo cherry,” I said, figuring I needed to fight sarcasm with sarcasm so I wouldn’t be blushing the whole time.
Taze’s eyes widened, and Stace giggled.
“That’s it; don’t let him get away with his BS,” Stace replied, nudging Taze with her shoulder.
“I like this one,” Taze said, leading me to the same room where he’d worked on Van.
“I do too,” Kill said, kissing me on the cheek. Kill followed me closely, pinching my ass as I walked. I turned around to glare at him, but he gave me an innocent look. My hand gripped a handful of his amazing ass, not even trying to hide what I was doing. His eyes went wide, and I shot him an innocent look which mirrored the one he’d given me.
“So, where are we doing this?” Taze asked, transforming into professional mode as soon as we entered the room.
“On my right wrist,” I answered, pulling my hoodie up and exposing the skin.
I tried not to flinch when I eyed the silver scar running down my wrist. I wouldn’t be unable to hide it from Taze when he started working there.
“Are you sure?” Taze asked, looking like he wanted to talk me out of it.
“Yes, and I wanted to thank you for drawing something so beautiful. I loved it the moment I saw it, and my wrist is the perfect place for me to remember.”
I didn’t say anything further, not wanting Jason to tarnish this moment for me. Stace nodded at Taze, a knowing look on her face. Kill stood behind me, his body tightening when I ran my finger over the scar marring my skin. He’d never mentioned seeing it before, so it could’ve been the first time he’d ever noticed it.
“Okay, but I'm going to have to shrink it down so it will fit here,” Taze said, leaving the room with the sketch.
“I'm so glad you liked it,” Stace said. “I was worried you might be upset that I told Taze about what we talked about.” She was wringing her hands together, showing just how nervous she was at my reaction.
“I love it, Stace. It was one of the best Christmas presents I’ve ever received.”
I reached up and fingered my necklace, hopefully letting Kill know that one was my favorite.
“Good, I’m glad,” she said, smiling brightly.
Taze came back, and I sat in a chair as he prepared to permanently adhere my mended broken heart on me. He stuck the drawing on my skin, transferring it to my wrist and made me move around to make sure it was in the correct place. I had to give him credit, he only paused for a fraction of a second when he saw the scar running down my wrist. I gave him the go ahead, and he started the gun letting it hum to life.
"I'm going to do one line so you will know what it feels like." He ran the gun over a small portion of the outline. The needle bit into my skin, but it was more annoying than painful.
"How was that?" Taze asked, pulling the gun away from my skin.
"Fine, it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."
Taze smiled at me before he bent his head and went to work. Kill and Taze talked about the upcoming tour while he worked. D received the schedule of the confirmed venues, and they discussed the different places the band was going to play.
“Are you going on tour with him?” Taze asked me.
I shook my head, but realized he wouldn't be able to see me. “I have one more semester in school. I need to finish up, and, anyway, when the tour is over he’ll be back in Portland.”
I refused to let tears flood my eyes, but I saw the pain in Kill’s face as well.
“Well, six months isn’t that long, and if you get bored with studying, you can always come over and hang out. I would love another female to talk to,” Stace said. She was sitting with her legs crossed on the table.
“I might just do that. I only have one class left and work to keep me busy. But I don’t know what I'm going to do with an empty house,” I said, thinking of how much I was going to miss all the boys.
Taze rubbed a cloth over my heated skin, announcing that he was done. I peered down, and this time my eyes did tear up. It was a perfect blend of black and gray. The scars had stitches over them, and the tiny metal plate with screws on each side ensured it would never break again.
“I love it,” I said, using my other hand to wipe my tears away.
Taze smiled just as brightly as Stace. Kill stared in wonder.
“Do you like it?” I asked, pulling Kill from his stupor.
“It’s perfect, Slick,” he said, and there was no denying the emotion in his voice.
Taze wrapped my arm, giving me instructions on how to take care of it. I was in such a haze, I only heard about half of what he said.
“Wait... What was the part about the bandage?” I asked, starting to panic.
Taze laughed at
me. “Here.” He handed me a paper on the care of my new tattoo, and reminded me that Van could help me too. I hugged both of them, thanking them for such an amazing Christmas present.
"Don't forget to call me if you get bored," Stace said as Taze went to clean up his station.
"I won't," I promised as we headed back out into the rain. On the drive back, Kill was stoic, and it became unnerving.
“What’s up?” I finally asked when we pulled into the driveway.
“Where did you get that scar?” His eyes stared through the windshield looking at nothing but the empty garage.
I sighed, figuring I needed to tell him the truth. “Jason,” I answered and told him the whole story.
By the time I reached the end, I was in his lap again. Tears ran down my face as I remembered the fear I’d felt when the blade had sunk into my skin.
“Shhh, Slick, I got you. Don’t cry anymore.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm so emotional today,” I said, kissing him on the lips to let him know I really was okay.
“It scared me when I saw that. I was afraid he’d broken you to the point you couldn’t handle life anymore."
I shuddered at the thought of taking my own life. “First of all, if I were going to do it, I’d have used my left wrist, being right handed and all,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. I also wanted to make sure there was no doubt it hadn’t been self-inflicted.
“Aww there's the smart ass I love,” he said, giving me his half smile.
“Come on; let’s eat before you have to get to work. I'll drive you if that's okay. That way, we can go home together after you close up.”
I nodded and got out of the car with Kill following close behind. We warmed up leftovers and Van, D, Amy, and Jet ate with us.
Kill made my plate for me, making sure he didn't add anything that would upset my healing stomach. I kept up with my special diet and took note of what aggravated my ulcers. I relished the fact that I no longer had to worry about how to get through the day as my stomach revolted. The boulder had been officially evicted, and I couldn’t have been happier.
“What the hell did you do to your wrist?” Van asked, grabbing my arm gently and staring at me in alarm.
I pulled back the bandage so he could see my new work, and he grinned widely.
"That's my girl, sis," Van said as everyone crowded around to see my new tattoo.
CHAPTER 23
The week went by even faster than I thought possible. I woke up on New Year’s Eve wanting to sob and violently scream at the same time. The past week had focused on packing the boys and Amy up to go.
Jessie was landing early in the morning so she could see Van before he left. Kill repeatedly broke my heart every time he asked me if I was sure I couldn’t go with him. It took all my willpower not to give in and pack up my stuff.
My dad and Martha called in the morning to wish Kill and the boys good luck, my dad telling Kill he couldn’t wait to brag to their friends about their famous rockstar boys. We planned on spending time at the house, and issued an invitation to anyone who wanted to come over to wish the boys good luck. I made enchiladas and tacos, along with a ton of appetizers, wanting to send them off right.
Kill and I seemed unable to keep away from each other. Our lips were constantly connected. Our hands roaming over one another, memorizing every detail.
While I was in the kitchen making sure I had enough salsa and chips for the party, Van arrived with Jessie in tow.
I abandoned the chips and gave her a big hug. “I missed you so much. How are your parents? How was your trip?” I asked in one breath.
“Go catch up. I have some stuff to do,” Van told her, kissing Jessie before running upstairs.
Jessie gave his retreating back a pained look before following me into the kitchen. She sat down at the kitchen table and stared down dejectedly at the grainy wood.
Kill walked in before I could pull Jessie out of her thoughts. "Hey, Slick. Do you need me to make a store run?" His eyes landed on Jessie's form.
I shook my head and blew him a kiss. He winked at me before walking out of the kitchen silently.
I took her clammy hand in mine. “Hey, Jess. What's going on?” It was a stupid question, but I was at a loss for words.
“My parents introduced me to someone while I was in Texas,” she answered as big tears rolled heartbreakingly down her cheeks.
“Come on; let’s go talk,” I said. My stomach knotted as we walked quietly to my room, and I locked the door, hoping to ensure our privacy.
“Okay, tell me everything.” I had to force the words out of my mouth. What I really wanted to do was stuff my fingers in my ear and scream at the top of my lungs.
“My parents met Michael at their bar during a bachelor party. He was the designated driver, so he wasn’t drinking and ended up talking to my parents. He told them he was studying to be a doctor and nearly done with his internship. My parents were thrilled at how stable he seemed. Michael is completely removed from any band affiliation, making him perfect in their eyes. He started coming by once a week to have dinner with my family. You should have seen my mom. She was ready to toss my dad aside to get her chance at him,” Jessie said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“He saw a picture of me on the mantle and asked my parents about me. They told him about my sister, and some of my own story and, according to my mother, he fell instantly in love with me. When I got to the bar after my flight, he was waiting for me. Faith, he is so different from Van. I don't know why, but I found myself revealing my life’s story to him,” she confessed.
“What the hell, Jessie?”
She continued to stare at the ground as my anger surfaced.
“You know, if you tell Van about your past, he would accept you. I understand why you have this unhealthy urge to push him away, but I don't understand how you can tell a complete stranger about your past, just because your parents decided to hook you up with him.” I shouldn’t have been upset. It was her life, and her decision. But I loved Van like a brother, I couldn't stand to see how much she was hurting him for no reason other than fear.
“I know, Faith. I feel awful,” she said, crying again.
“Do you love him?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t hear what I thought I was about to.
“Michael?”
“Yes, Michael,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know. I don’t feel the same pull to him I feel toward Van. The moment I saw Van, I was in love with him, but the fear that he would hurt me twisted my love for him into something I can’t describe. Michael's different. He's safe and stable. I know where he's going, and that he wants me to be by his side.”
“You just met him. How can you know that?” I got up and started pacing the floor, sick to my stomach.
“I just do,” she whispered.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I have one more semester of school just like you. My roommate's moving out, so I’ll have a lot of time to decide.”
“So you're just going to lead them both on? Until you're sure Van doesn’t cheat on you while he's gone,” I ground out.
I totally understood her fear regarding Van’s faithfulness. I was worried about the same thing, but I also knew without a doubt there would never be another man for me. Kill was it, and I accepted that fact.
“No, that's not what I'm going to do,” Jessie shouted, getting up and slamming the door on her way out.
Horrible dread filled my body. As her friend I should have been more supportive, but I knew if she could be honest with Van, everything would work out with them. Kill came in after she stormed out. I was flopped back on my bed, my arm over my face, wondering how much more emotional turmoil I could handle.
He pulled me into him. I buried my face in his neck breathing in deeply, wanting to fill my lungs with as much Kill as I could.
“Want to talk about it?” The rumble of his voice through his c
hest was comforting.
“No.”
“Want to get naked?”
I jerked my head up to stare at him.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to get you to laugh,” he backpedaled as he tried to pull me back to him.
I moved away quickly, dodging his hands and wrenching my shirt over my head in the process, before unhooking my bra and letting it fall to the bed. His mouth hung open, his eyes glued to my naked breasts like it was the first time he’d seen them.
“So, are we going to get naked?” I asked, unbuttoning my pants.
My question must have brought him out of his trance, because the next thing I saw was his shirt flying across the room. His jeans followed shortly after. He brought me to him, our naked bodies molding together.
“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are for me?” His voice was husky with need, and it made me tingle all over.
“Shut up and kiss me,” I ordered.
He smiled devilishly before complying with my request, making me forget about Jessie, and his own departure in less than twenty-four hours. It was just us, joined together in a heated battle of lust.
Jessie avoided me for the rest of the night. I let her, not wanting to waste my energy on trying to convince her about something she wouldn't listen to anyway. Van pulled her upstairs later. I silently wished him luck, knowing there was nothing else I could do.
Kill stayed by my side the whole night, his arm draped around my shoulders as he talked to everyone who came to say goodbye or wish him luck.
After a while, I’d put everyone into categories. There were the ones who wanted to talk to Kill because he was going to be famous soon. There were the true fans dedicated to the band. Then there were the girls. They had a category all to themselves. I had to stop my eyes from rolling as they shoved their enhanced body parts in his face, even though I was glued to his side. Sadly, the last and smallest group consisted of Kill’s real friends.
