5 Words: Paradox Ink Trilogy

by Melanie Walker

  My phone lights up after she takes her own shot.

  Mya: Then I have a sea of Cuervo to wade through.

  I know what she threatens. I want to haul her sweet ass up and out of this bar, and fuck her senseless against the wall.

  Me: If that is what you want, some random dude to fuck you and never look back, then you aren’t who I thought you were.

  Mya: I want you to fuck me.

  I close my eyes and turn my phone over. I can’t respond and that becomes clearer as I watch a sea of millennial douchebags buy her drinks all night.

  Last call comes and goes, and Lexington and Mya are both wasted. I watch as the guy that has been trying to get on Mya all night, starts touching her leg and leaning close. I have had enough. “Get Lex to the car. I got Mya,” I say to Cal, who looks like he might kill the dick before I can get there.

  “We are leaving,” I say, and slide between the douchebag and my girl.

  I mean Mya.

  “Excuse me?” She slurs and smiles tilting her head to the side.

  “Come on, killer,” I say and scoop her into my arms. The fool she was talking to grabs my arm to stop me.

  “What the fuck, dude? Don’t be a cock blocker.”

  I turn with Mya in my arms and want nothing more than this lousy piece of shit to feel my fist.

  I set her at the table and watch as she hunches forward. I wonder if this is drunk or if the mother fucker gave her a roofie. “What did you feed her?” I ask, standing my full six foot three all muscle in front of him.

  “Cuervo. That was all she wanted,” he says. He has no idea that the Cuervo was an insult.

  I figure that was enough damage to the guy even if he didn’t know it. I did. I go back and lift Mya into my arms, and carry her to my truck.

  “One day, you gonna wan me, Shully,” she slurs from the cab of my truck.

  She has no idea that I already do.

  “You are drunk, Pet,” I say with a chuckle, and reach for the text from Cal with her address and punch it in my GPS.

  “I been drunk afore. In Dee Cee. You wanted me tha night. Stupid dumb hymen scared ya.”

  I laugh at that and look to see her legs are spread. Even in jeans she looks like a fucking Goddess. I pull her legs closed and she scoots close to me until she is at my side, and somehow tucked her legs on my lap. I have no choice, but to hold her or she will roll off the seat.

  “One day, I would like to know what the fuck you see in me, Mya.”

  I say it to myself because I assumed, she was asleep.

  “I see you,” she says, then hiccups and smiles. “I know how amazing you are and sad…so sad, my Sul.”

  Her words wreck me, and I want to fight her as much as I want to kiss her. I say and do nothing though, keeping my mask on no matter what.

  Neither of us say anything the rest of the drive and she is out cold when we get to her house. I go through her purse and find her house key before I lift her and carry her inside.

  I carry her back down a long hall that opens to a bedroom. I know it is hers because she doesn’t have a roommate. I set her on the bed and bend to remove her shoes. I riffle through her drawers, looking for anything she can wear to bed.

  I see a ton of silky items, workout clothes, and leotards or whatever, and I am at a loss.

  I take my jacket off and remove my shirt and set it on the side of the bed. I get her jeans off, then her top. I want to go on record that none of this turned me on, comatose isn’t sexy. I left her bra on and slid her arms through my shirt before tucking her in.

  I made sure to put some painkillers and a large bottle of water on the side of her bed, and turned her bathroom light on. She seemed to be sleeping sound, but I watched for just a minute or two as her breathing stayed even and sweet.

  I wanted nothing more than to climb in beside her and curl into her side, just in case that fucker did dose her with something. I decide then that I should stay, just in case. I know I am reaching for a reason, but there it is. I slip in the other side of her bed and lay still on my back. I want to touch her, to feel her hair fanned out over my chest.

  Like every minute lately, I think of her being in my life. I think of her learning of Kace and this hope fills me up, that she wouldn’t hate me for it all. The truth is, there is no darkness with Mya. She is this perfection that I draw, but can’t be real. If she really is this special then I would damn myself to hell for touching her, tainting her.

  I want so badly to be good for her. To not be the father who didn’t protect his daughter, or the husband that loved his wife enough to keep her from straying. I am neither. I failed at fatherhood and I failed at love. Mya doesn’t deserve me interfering with her life and I don’t deserve her wanting me to.

  I lay there unable to fully sleep. I wake up around five in the morning to her laying on my chest, her breath against my bare chest. I am rock hard and want to roll her over and slip inside of her like a thief, and take her and make her mine. I stroke my hand down her back gently, the smell of her hair smothering me. Fuck, this is dangerous. My hand is too damn close to her ass and I want to squeeze it.

  I feel like a creep and fight to get out from under her without waking her. I see she got up at some point and took the painkillers and drank most the water, so I knew she was okay. I had a session at seven in the morning, so I wanted to get home and shower the memory off of me before it destroys me. I kissed her lightly on the lips before locking her door behind me and headed home.

  Chapter Six

  Under your scars I pray

  You’re like a shooting star in the rain

  You’re everything that feels like home to me, yeah

  Under your scars, I could live inside you time after time

  If you’d only let me live inside your mind…

  Sully

  “You left?” Mya says from the entrance of my booth as I work on a piece for a client coming in this weekend.

  I turn in my chair and lift my glasses taking in her beauty, even disheveled. She is wearing a pair of torn up faded jeans and a PIT hoodie. Her hair is in a messy knot, and I want to take it down and let if fall all over me again.

  I don’t know what she has done to me, but I am waxing poetic on some basic shit. “Hey,” I stand, and offer her a seat, but she hops on my tattoo table instead. “How you feeling?

  She looks at me through the sunglasses she still wears. “Dreadful, but better than I would have been had someone not taken care of me.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, you were out of it. I crashed for a few hours to make sure you didn’t get sick and cruised home at five.

  She nods and hands me my folded T-shirt. “I remember. Well, I remember getting up in the middle of the night and seeing you there. Thank you, for the shirt. I didn’t wash it yet.”

  I nod, and secretly love knowing she slept in my shirt and brought it back with her smell on it. “Cuervo will make ya sick. Should have chosen the Patron.”

  She hops off my table and steps up close to me. “You told me Cuervo.”

  I step towards her. “I told you that you couldn’t handle Patron. You could have decided for yourself.”

  We stare each other down, talking in this fucking code of Patron and Cuervo, and I know I am crossing my own line.

  I also know that I can’t give a fuck anymore.

  She traces her finger along the tattoo that is on my jaw and neck slowly. “I am pretty sure that if I chose Patron against my better logic, I would be feeling even worse today,” she says this just seconds before kissing me sweetly, once… twice, before turning and leaving my shop.

  Later that night, I think of what she said and wonder if I should keep fighting her. If I am honest with myself and her, God knows I do want her. I don’t know how to co-exist with happiness when I am plagued by sadness.

  Deciding I don’t want to waste her time or mine, I shoot a text and offer an olive branch. I need to see what this is once and for all.

  Me: Hey, do you have plans tonight?<
br />
  My heart stops and starts beating insane when I send the message and fear her response. This is me moving forward, and I should welcome it. It’s all about healing, right?

  Mya: Nothing in stone. What’s up?

  I read the message and I don’t think it is what I wanted. I think I half expected a resounding, ‘nothing come get me?’

  Me: We are throwing a party for Asa at the shop tonight. Inked Mag gave him a spread. I wanted to see if you wanted an invite?

  Mya: Are all your ‘friends’ going to be there?

  Fuck!

  I finally try, and she plays this fucking game? Okay, maybe it isn’t a game. After she kissed me at the studio, she told me to do something. I denied her again and ran straight into the arms of every Cuervo toting asshole in the Sue. Chances are she is ready to tell me to fuck off.

  Me: Whatever. If you show, you show. Seven sharp.

  This shit is hard for me. We are looking at an almost twelve-year gap in our age. I am trying to recover slowly from the worst possible blow and she has her whole life ahead of her. To date, nothing ugly has touched Mya. I’m the one who will bring ugly into her world if we stand a chance, at even friendship.

  Me: Yes, all my friends will be there.

  Me: And we both know we aren’t friends.

  I sent the last message before I could stop myself and I don’t know how I feel about it.

  Mya: What are we?

  I look at that forever before I finally answer honestly.

  Me: It’s complicated.

  Chapter Seven

  Too many times, I have wanted

  To turn around and walk away

  Knowing deep inside, you can’t provide

  What I need from you, anyway…

  Mya

  I walk into PIT and look around at the packed tattoo studio. They made the front counter the bar and Raleigh is working it like a champ. I felt dumb coming after the way I ran out on him this morning.

  I don’t want to want him. I am over wanting to want him. I know something is ripping him apart inside and me constantly trying to dig my way into his life makes me feel pitiful and makes him more distant.

  “Hey, you,” Cal says, and hands me a beer.

  “This place is packed,” I say, and thank him for the beer.

  “Inked Magazine ran the spread today. There’s a huge stack over by Sully’s booth and Asa can sign it.”

  “Asa is worthy of the recognition. He is a damn good artist.”

  Cal nods and gets distracted by his band mates, and I can’t find Jen or Tayla. I decide that I will go find Sully and embark on whatever it is I am doing here. “Hey, butterfly,” Sully says when I go to grab a copy of the magazine from his booth.

  “Hey, crow,” I say with a smile and take the magazine from him. I start scanning it immediately until I see Asa’s gorgeous smiling face.

  I turn the magazine to Sully and smile. “It has got to be a requirement to be hot if you work here.”

  He laughs and stands beside me, taking my beer and setting it down before he pulls out a small bottle of Patron. “Peace offering.”

  I nod as he takes my hand in his and leads me from his booth, and out to the stairs leading to the roof.

  “Is this your favorite place or something?”

  “It kind of is. I like to see the bay from here. It’s calming.” He twists the cap off the Patron and hands me the bottle. “Pretty ladies first.”

  I blush a little at that and wonder what brings the sweet side of him on. I sip from the bottle, cringing from the flavor with no chaser, and a hangover from last night.

  He laughs and pulls me close to his side. “Pussy.”

  I hit his arm lightly and laugh. “Too soon.”

  “Good thing I brought us a Ginger Ale.” He pulls a can of soda from his hoodie and pops the top giving it to me.

  “You had this the whole time?” I ask and sip from the can, relief instantly. “Such a dick move.”

  He shrugs and drinks from the bottle without the chaser because he is a show off. “Here I thought I was going for chivalrous. Turns out I am a dick.”

  I nudge him because I know he is kidding. My arms are folded over my chest from the cold and I can’t help but shiver.

  “Come here,” he says, opening his arms to me and I go willingly.

  “We can go inside. I just wanted to be away from the crowd, and I know you hate it.”

  His words melt me, they so melt me. I look up at him. “You remember that?”

  A few stray hairs stick to my lips from the wind and he uses his finger to move them. “I remember everything.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I rest my head against his chest and cherish the embrace. “I owe you an explanation.”

  I look up as he says it. “For what?”

  “Fighting this thing between us. I know I have hurt you, Mya.”

  “You admit there is something here?”

  He nods, and kisses me quickly and sweetly on my lips. “I was being a dick denying it. I think about you all the time.”

  “Me too, but I am still a virgin and you hate that.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head no as he takes another drink from the Patron. “I don’t hate it. It freaked me out, yeah. I feel like a scandalous creep hitting on you. You are twenty-one and I am thirty-three. When you told me you are a virgin, I knew I couldn’t give you shit.”

  “Can you now?” I know asking seems forward, but if he still can’t, I need to leave.

  He pulls back to look at me, placing both hands on my cheeks. “I want to, fuck, I really want to, Mya.”

  I lean up and kiss him, desperate to finally feel him with no fear or bullshit. The minute his tongue hits mine, he pulls me in tighter and takes the control from me.

  “Fuck. I want you, Mya,” he says, and brings my lips to his again before stepping backwards until he is sitting on the edge of the concrete border surrounding the roof. “I can’t fight it anymore. I am so weak.” I feel his hands snake up under my coat and sweater. One hand stays at the small of my back and the other slides up to my neck holding me to him.

  I only break the kiss long enough to take a breath before wrapping my arms around his neck and testing the waters. I split my legs over his. I am still standing, but over his lap. I feel his erection against me when I come closer and he pulls my hips against him.

  “You’re going to fall off of here.” I point to the ledge he is on and know if I grind on him again, we both will go over.

  “Come here,” he says, and takes me to this sitting area that has a cover and a tall heater. He sits back on a loveseat patio couch thing and pulls me onto his lap. “I won’t be fucking you here. Just want to feel you, Pet.”

  I shiver at his words, and he assumes it’s from the cold as he reaches back and flips a switch on the heater. “Grind on my dick again,” he tells me before pulling me close. I do as he asks, moaning because he feels so good. The seam between the crotch of my jeans helps, too.

  I feel his hands as they expertly work my belt and jeans open. I meet his eyes, both of us frozen knowing we are going further than a few kisses. I am just as out of control as he is. This has been months in the making and the tension is killing us both. As if he is waiting on me to approve, I kiss him quickly before nibbling on his ear.

  “Touch me…” I plead, and it was over, the fight was gone. I felt his hand go down the front of my panties, then pleasure. His fingers stroke me side to side right over my clit. He isn’t playing or teasing. He fingers me with the soul intent to get me off.

  “Right there,” I pant and rise up a little, so he has more room. I want to touch him, so badly, but I am frozen in the position and unable to move as he works me so fucking good.

  “Fuck. Come on my fingers, Mya.”

  “There, there, holy fuck, there!” I cry out when the first wave knocks into me and his mouth finds mine.

  I groan loud and thrust against his fingers as his teeth bite my lips.

 
“That’s it. That’s my girl.”

  Those words coming from his mouth after fighting to get him to see me, broke me. “Oh God, Sam.”

  He froze at my words and I don’t know why, but I crossed some invisible line by calling him Sam. He was stiff beneath me and as much as I loved being on top of him, I knew I needed to move.

  I stood and did my pants up, looking at his shaking hands. “Do you hate being called Sam?” I ask, hoping I didn’t ruin us again.

  “I can’t do this. I thought…” he rubs his hands over his face. “I thought I could, but fuck…” he looks at me, and I swear I see his regret in his eyes and I might actually hate him.

  “I am so fucked up, Mya.”

  I nod. The tears in my eyes shedding against my trying not to.

  “I can see that.”

  “You don’t understand...” he says as he stands, readjusting his jeans, and I know he wants me… but I know nothing else.

  “Then make me understand and let me decide if I can take it.” I cry, wiping more tears as he storms down the stairs to the parking lot.

  I follow him not willing to let him shit on me again.

  “Sully?” I yell, but he just keeps storming off to his truck.

  “Sully, please talk to me.”

  Nothing. All I get is his retreating back.

  “Can you just stop for one fucking minute and talk to me?” I scream, and I feel like I am begging for him to see me. Always begging for his attention. “Sully, please!” I yell to his retreating back.

  I watch him slow his pace to an exhausted stroll by the time he reaches the driver side door. His hands hang loosely at his sides as he stares to the sky. “I’m fucking sorry!” He roars to the sky.

  I walk slowly to him, like I am tracking some scared to death fawn in the forest. I know I need to tread lightly here. Something I can’t see holds him back and I just want to know. Even if he is too broken by his divorce to move forward, I feel I deserve answers.

  “I deserve to hear you say it, Sully. I deserve that.”

  “I know,” he says with humorless laughter, shaking his head while looking at me sadly. “Look. I’m better off alone, Mya. I … nothing has changed since that night in DC. I thought I could try, but I can’t it’s too much.”