Grease Slapped (Ink Slapped Book 2)

by A. M. Jones

  Grease Slapped

  Ink Slapped Book Two

  Copyright © 2018 Annie Walls

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Some places and brands are real to give local flavor to the setting of Nashville, TN.

  Cover Design by Annie Walls

  Formatting by Annie Walls

  www.AnnieWalls.com

  Contents

  1. Eli

  2. Taylor

  3. Eli

  4. Taylor

  5. Eli

  6. Taylor

  7. Eli

  8. Taylor

  9. Eli

  10. Taylor

  11. Eli

  12. Taylor

  13. Eli

  14. Taylor

  15. Eli

  16. Taylor

  17. Eli

  18. Taylor

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  For Zombies

  Waking before dawn and lists. The things productive people do to get shit done. Or so says Google. Since there isn’t any way the former is happening, I stick to the latter. After two hours of jotting down my to-do list, I try to recall the last time I even made a list.

  Never.

  My list makes me feel like shit. The damn thing only serves to see how much I have to do. I’m no closer to figuring out how to get out of my mess of a marriage. The only thing I can do is focus on my goals. Stay on the straight and narrow. Do not veer from the list.

  First things first, the express oil change that just rolled in. I wave to Mrs. Hutchinson as I pass the waiting room.

  “Wait! Wait,” she stands, flailing a stack of papers with her aged hand. The old woman still has pep, I’ll give her that. “Make sure to check the fluids.”

  I nod. “We always top everything off for you. You know that.”

  She wags a finger at me. “Don’t lie to me, boy! You never check the blinker fluid, see?” She points to her papers, which I recognize as our invoices that list everything we do during maintenance.

  I scratch my neck. “Mrs. Hutchinson, there’s no such thing as blinker fluid or we would check it.”

  “But I saw on the Faceboo—”

  “Just a joke, I assure you.” One would be surprised by how often I have to explain this to people.

  She narrows her eyes and purses her lips.

  “You can’t believe everything you read on the internet.”

  She huffs her way back into the waiting room. On my way into the garage, I take the list from my back pocket and see Taylor’s name written at the top in the boldest I could write. Maybe I shouldn’t believe that successful people bullshit but I need the reminder of why I’m making music for Madison.

  I’m closing shop for the night when a familiar car pulls in. Savannah hops out in scrubs with ice cream cones all over them. I don’t want to deal with her right this second. My throat closes, and I clutch my chest for a second as she makes her way over.

  “I assume you’re not here for a tire rotation?” My voice sounds strained.

  She smiles, stepping into the security light and causing the gravel to crunch. “No, just wondering how you liked the convention.”

  I rub the back of my neck, feeling grit from the shop. I can’t wait to get home and stand under a hot shower. “It was an interesting experience. Taylor didn’t tell you about it?”

  Her smile turns tight, and she shakes her head. “Taylor doesn’t tell me anything anymore. I kind of screwed up when I fucked Adrian.”

  I raise my brows at her blatant openness about what she did. “I guess it would.”

  “I stopped over to see how she’s doing. I’ve been trying to make it up to her, but…” She shrugs.

  “What are you doing here? Need a friend?”

  She steps back, raising her hands. “Uh-uh. No way. Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. I want to help. I want her to be happy.”

  “You want her to forgive you. If it’s any consolation, I think you did her a solid. She was going to marry that asshole.”

  Looking down, she twiddles with the drawstring of her pants. “Taylor wouldn’t have married him.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because no matter how much she doesn’t want to be, she’s just like her mother.”

  I have more faith in Taylor than that except for a few visible traits, Eileen and Taylor are hardly alike, but discussing Taylor with Savannah is out of the question. “Thanks for trying, but I’m not sure what you want me to do.”

  The hopefulness she arrived with drains from her expression as her shoulders slump. “There’s nothing there anymore?”

  My knees feel like they’re about to give out. Of course, there is. Nothing short of a lobotomy and a heart transplant could get rid of it. I shake my head. “I need to go. I have a few shows this weekend I need to get ready for.”

  Before I know it, I’m at my apartment. I don’t remember driving, which can’t be good. Tossing my keys on the coffee table, I trudge to the shower in the bathroom, turn it on, and lean against the door to wait for it to steam. When I get in, and only then, I allow myself to think about Taylor, so my muscles don’t clamp up. I’ve been depressed before, but this is a level I’ve never experienced—physical pain.

  Truth of the matter is, I’m an asshole. For most of my marriage to Madison, I’ve treated her like shit and vice versa. The emotional instability she provides is more than enough to call it quits. If I’m honest with myself, the only reason I tried to save it before was because of Taylor. I squeeze my eyes closed. I sure as hell admire you a lot more since you put on your big boy panties to work things out with your wife. But really, what she told me about her own parents stayed in the forefront of my mind. Obviously, they don’t like the compromise of a relationship. The compromise it takes to stay in love.

  That’s why Taylor is different. When I’m with her, she helps me see the world through her eyes, and in turn, makes me hate myself a little less each time. She makes me want to be a better person, but I shouldn’t have to stay in my marriage for that to happen. But it’s too late because now I’m in a contract marriage.

  With Taylor’s track record, there’s truth to what Savannah says. If Taylor is like her mother, then she needs someone who can touch her heart and make her feel, because that’s what she fears. I know I’ve done that very thing. I know we can have something out-of-this-world together.

  What’s so fucked up about it all, the one thing I resent and regret the most is the one thing that put the roadblock in our way, if I’d have just signed the divorce papers when Madison presented them, then she’d already be out of my life. All I’ve done is dig myself in deeper and deeper.

  Now in an effort to make it up to Taylor, I’m helping her get an agent and leaving her alone. At least until I can think of a way out of this mess.

  I stretch my neck out, determined to kick this feeling of hopelessness and stay focused on my goals.

  The next morning, I call my lawyer to see if I can use the new music to Madison’s song as leverage. It’s only been about four months since I signed with the label. I still have four years and eight months of marriage to deal with but if I can get out of it, I will.

 
Daniel’s tone prepares me for bad news. “I’ll give it to you straight. The only way to get out of it is to pay the recording label back through a courtroom. You’re looking at more fees on top of what you’d owe them for recording the song, Highway. This is just to get rid of the label’s contract. It’s also worth mentioning, this involves four other people. Does the band want to dissolve the contract? You’d be paying their cut, too. If you hold out, it’ll all pay for itself and you keep any royalties it earns from there on out.

  “The divorce, depending on how cooperative Madison is, will cost you even more. Maybe you can get her on your side. If you want out, it’s worth discussing with her.” It all adds to the kind of money I don’t have, but he has something. Maybe Madison will cooperate. I’m not worried about the guys, but it’s something to think more about.

  “What about the new music Tainted District’s writing for Madison?”

  “Separate. Unless you want to get out of that one, too. More time, more money. Honestly, I wouldn’t sign a new contract, especially if you want out of the old one.”

  My hope sinks like a boulder off a cliff. This is what I get for being impulsive. No. No, I can’t think that way. I wouldn’t change anything I’ve done for Taylor.

  Not an hour after I spoke with Daniel, Madison rings me. “Do you want that agent or not?”

  I sigh. “Yes.”

  “She’s got me jumping through hoops for this. She’s already turned down one. This has nothing to do with Highway’s contract, so stop your peon from trying. You’re wasting your money.”

  I almost laugh. At least Taylor isn’t making it easy on her. “Speaking of wasting money, do you want to stay miserable for four more years?” I slump against my office chair. “Daniel suggested banding together. I can get him on seeing what we owe. I have money in savings—”

  “You mean taking my bread maker to court?” She laughs. “My, my… how the table turns. Baby, I’m not miserable. My career is on the rise, so if you think I’m going to do anything that will put me on the bottom of their priorities, you’re thinking wrong.

  “Besides, I have a fantastic house, and my skin is glowing from a spa trip yesterday. Not to mention, just this morning my lover tossed me on the bed and fucked me till I came like a volcano. Inspiring. I’ve been writing lyrics like no one’s busi—”

  White knuckling the phone, I reach back and hurl it hard. It crashes against the opposite wall, spilling to the floor in a million pieces. I realize Madison’s motivation for doing what she did. I thought it was to help her career take off, a small part of me thought it was because she still loved me, but no. It’s payback for not signing the divorce papers. As soon as she met Taylor, her hamster wheel started turning, and she did everything she could to get close to me again, just so she could make me miserable. If there’s one person in this world who knows how I’d love my life to turn out, it’s Madison. It’s the one thing she wants to destroy.

  “It’s just wrong.” I sip my drink and let the icy texture hover over my tongue.

  Right and wrong. That’s what I need to focus on when it comes to Eli. But of course, Crockett makes it hard. We’re supposed to be celebrating the start of summer by sun tanning at my apartment complex pool and drinking ourselves stupid.

  “I think the line between right and wrong in this situation is blurry, luscious.” Crockett sucks two fresh cherries into his mouth at once. He brings them out again in a slow manner and then plays them with his tongue.

  I laugh, and not wanting to discuss Eli anymore, I steer the conversation in a different direction. “I feel like I’m getting a naughty lesson right now.”

  He pauses when he realizes what he’s doing before tossing them to the table between our chaise lounges. Straightening his round sunglasses, he says, “Maybe that’s my subconscious telling me something. I’ve taken a woman as a lover.” I lean forward, fascinated. He hides all personal stuff with his bright, peculiar personality. His face scrunches. “We’ve had lots of heterosexual sex.”

  I stir my frozen concoction with my straw as a kid jumps in the pool, splashing Crockett. He leans forward when the kid breaks the surface of the water. “Hey. I’m trying to get my tan on here.”

  That he is. I think he has a whole bottle of oil on his body, making his skin glisten. Crockett takes care of himself, so no doubt the woman in question loves whatever he does to her. “Must be enjoyable,” I comment, hoping he dishes more. He rubs his oily skin and sits back as he massages his neck—almost as if he’s uncomfortable. “Why are you fidgeting?”

  He waves me away. “Too much caffeine.”

  “Well, whoever she is, she better appreciate your awesomeness.”

  He stares ahead. “She does, and she knows.”

  “Maybe she won’t mind another man then,” I suggest as the gate of my apartment complex pool creaks open, announcing my mother. Her big hat flops as she takes the lounge beside mine. I dig in my cooler and pour her a margarita from a plastic blender pitcher. “Mom.”

  “Taylor.” She glances to Crockett with an eye roll. “Fag.”

  “Alcoholic Diva,” he retorts before licking salt from the rim and drinking a healthy gulp through the straw.

  “I don’t know, Ma. Crockett’s let loose his bisexuality. He’s fucking a woman.”

  She chokes on her drink as some spills down her chin. She sends Crockett a look.

  He doesn’t notice. “No, lush. I’m pansexual, and I’m grabbing another man to join in the fun. What do you two think? Would you fuck two men at once?” The kid in the pool stares at us with wide eyes. Annoyance flashes on Crockett’s face. “Do you mind? Shoo.” He waves as the kid splashes away and turns to us.

  I say, “Probably,” at the same time my mom scoffs, “I’m not a prude. Of course, I would.” All three of us burst into laughter.

  I take a large swig to swish around my mouth to avoid brain freeze. Sweat gathers like dew on my upper lip. The sun soaks into my skin in a pleasant way. I need this. The past two months of my life have been depressing to say the least. It’s getting better though. I’m happy to see Crockett, even though he forced this day on me. I’m even seeing Gavin again for some Memorial Day fun later.

  “Anyway, what was I saying earlier, before you distracted me?” Crockett eyes me over his sunglasses. I shrug and he snaps his fingers. “Oh yeah—”

  “You promised.”

  “He moved out of Madison’s and back to his apartment. I’m just saying that line you’re afraid to cross is so blurry, it’s not visible.”

  I shrug and try not to get excited. “I haven’t heard from him.”

  “You didn’t answer your phone, and you never called him back.”

  I flinch and take several gulps from my cup, forgoing the straw. He only called the one time, twice actually, and left a message the second time. One I haven’t listened to yet, in fear of something I’m not entirely sure of myself, but since it’s been the only communication in the past two months, it can’t be anything good. Especially since he called right after Crockett told me they were writing music for the new single.

  “There’s a reason for that. He’s all words. His actions speak differently.”

  Crockett grins. “Ah, lush. Don’t you know actions prove who someone is, but words prove who they want to be?”

  Mom speaks from my other side. “He has a point.”

  “Both of you, shut up.”

  “Would you have this discussion with me if I told you they’re divorcing? For sure?” My eyes snap to his shit-eating grin. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He sits back. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t—and it drives me nuts.

  “Are they?” I ask him.

  “Oh yeah. They despise each other.” He flicks a sweat bee off him. “They have to wait until the contract is over. In four years.”

  Four years? I stand, gathering my things. “You two stay as long as you want.”

  Crockett stands, too. “Taylor. It’s not as bad as—”


  “Listen, Crockett. I appreciate what you’re doing, but I can’t do it. Not right now, so please. Please… just let me think it through. I’ll call you when I do.” I send him a pleading look. He glances to my mother, but she sips on her cup with no care in the world. His shoulders slump and he nods.

  I rush to my apartment, taking out my phone to listen to the message I’ve been avoiding.

  “Hey… it’s me.” He laughs. “I kind of wanted to hear your voice. Anyway, I’m not sure how I want to say this, but I can’t do it anymore with Madison. I’d like to say I tried, but the truth is I don’t want to. Didn’t want to. I didn’t want you to think I’d bail because of a rough patch. No. I didn’t want you to think I’d ever give up on you in a rough patch.” A long pause. “Sounds stupid, doesn’t it? Even after everything, after cheating on her with you, and I can admit it. I did, and I wouldn’t change it. It doesn’t matter Madison did things and said things I’ll never get past—doesn’t matter because when I was supposed to be working through it with her, I was falling for you. It doesn’t matter because I’m still a cheating bastard. I’m the one at fault.

  “I’m so sorry I pulled you in the middle. Maybe one day you can forgive me and we can put this behind us somehow. I don’t see how at the moment.” Another laugh but this time it’s bitter. “Remember when we first met, and I told you to tell me to fuck off? When I told you that, I never dreamed of where we’d be now. Crazy how things change,” he whispers. “I’ve never met someone to help me see things in a different way—someone who makes me feel like I can be a better person.”

  Warmth radiates through my body as I squeeze the phone. He clears his throat. “Anyway, I don’t expect you to wait. I’d never ask that of you. I’d tell you, I’m here if you need me, but I can’t expect that either—no matter how much I want to be that person for you.” His voice cracks and he scoffs, “I hope this is coherent.” I think the message ends, but then he mutters, “Bye, Taylor.”