Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3)

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Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3) Page 9

by Cat Mason


  Spinning around to face me, he doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. The red-rimmed brown eyes staring down into mine say it all. Releasing his arm, I step around him and slide across the old leather bench seat of the truck. Gripping the top of the door, he looks at me in shock. “Well, at least it’s not your truck you’re tryin’ to steal this time,” I point out, patting the seat. “What are ya waitin’ for? Take me for a ride.”

  Blowing out a breath, he climbs into the cab. The engine roars to life, taking me by surprise. Clearly, by the looks of it, the engine has had more tender loving care than the rest of the truck. Shifting into gear, Mitch pulls out of the spot and heads toward the cemetery exit.

  Neither of us says a word, but the silence is deafening. I have a million questions I want to ask, so much I want to say to him, but I hesitate. Nothing I can come up with sounds right in my head. His mood doesn’t seem like he is up for chit chatting about anything right now. Wringing my hands in my lap, I stare ahead the road that lies before us, wondering what is going on inside his head right now and where he is taking us. Turning on a road, he heads away from all the shops and stores I saw while driving in with Luke.

  After a while, Mitch steers off the main road, onto an old dirt path barely big enough for the truck to drive on without cutting into the ditch line. To the left of us is nothing but mountains for what looks like miles. To the right is the river.

  Pulling off onto a patch of flat ground, Mitch parks the truck and shuts off the engine. Flinging open the door, he climbs out, striping off his jacket. Working the knot loose on his tie, he yanks it over his head, depositing them both in the front seat before slamming the door and making his way down to the water. Taking a seat on a large, flat rock, he stares out at the water.

  Slipping out of my shoes, I open the door and slide out of the truck. Carefully, I navigate the dirt path, stepping over the small rocks in my way until I am standing behind him. “You don’t have to be here, you know?” he asks, his voice so quiet, I almost don’t hear him.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I reply, placing my hands on his shoulders. “You’re stuck with me so you better just get used to it.”

  He sighs, almost sounding relieved. I see the cracks in the walls he has up getting bigger, crumbling and falling apart right in front of me. I find myself wanting to sneak inside and catch a glimpse of the real Mitch, the one he gives me pieces of even though I don’t think he realizes he does. I’m connected to him. If I didn’t know that before, I definitely do now. “Talk to me,” I plead. “Not some idiotic banter, or some stupid insult. Tell me something real, Mitch.”

  “You want real?” he asks, his eyes still locked on the rushing water. “No matter how much I drink it can’t erase the things I see when I close my eyes. I don’t want to be alone because, in the silence, I can still hear Becky’s voice whispering my name.” His body trembles beneath my hands. “If life were fair, I’d be either rotting in the ground, or in a cell beside that fucker who killed her. He and I are no different.”

  “You’re wrong,” I argue, unable to stop myself from correcting him.

  “I’m a murderer!” he shouts, making me jump. “I went and visited the man who killed the only woman I had ever loved, with every intention of telling him to get fucked and die. Do you know what he did?” he asks, his shoulders slumping. “He cried. Told me how sorry he was for what he had done. Said he’d give anything to go back and make it right.”

  Walking around the side of the rock, I step between his legs, placing my hands on his thighs. “Look at me, Mitch.”

  His eyes open, tears spilling over the lids, splashing onto my hands. “I’ve never told anyone this shit; but, as much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t. I always end up turning the hatred around on myself. Wanna know why?”

  I can’t speak. He is pouring out his heart, right in front of me, giving me pieces of his complicated puzzle that I desperately want and I can’t even form the simple words he needs to go on. I stare at him with no idea what to say. I can’t believe that he sees himself that way. I shake my head in disbelief, wishing I could understand. “No, Mitch, tell me,” I force out, swallowing hard, knowing that he needs my encouragement right now to continue.

  Taking a shaky breath, he nods. “Because there isn’t one part of me that is sorry about what I did the day of your accident.” I keep my eyes on his, afraid that, if I even so much as blink, he will stop talking altogether. “Kelly’s old man could ask me today, tomorrow, ten fucking years from now, and my answer will be the same. I’d do it again. I’ll never apologize for her being in the ground instead of you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mitch

  “Such a prick,” she whispers under her breath, a tear slipping down her face. “Dammit to hell.” She slaps my arm before slipping her arms around my waist. Pressing her face to my chest, she holds me. The act taking me totally by surprise but, at the same time, it’s exactly what I need. “Here you go being sweet and shit.”

  I laugh, because I could say the same thing about her right now. She was the last person I expected to see at the funeral. Then, when Maddie showed up, I lost it. Seeing her pregnant only made the ache in my chest grow. Her belly was only a reminder of the things I didn’t have, the things she and Becky would have done together. So I did what I always do when shit gets to be too much to bear. I run. I just didn’t expect Shelby to chase me down and jump in the truck.

  Now, I am so fucking glad she did.

  Tipping Shelby’s chin up with my fingers, I stare down at her. Her blue eyes soften and damn if it doesn’t make me want to kiss her. I’m not supposed to feel this way. It only leads to trouble in the end. “Deal with it, sweetness,” I fire back.

  “Asshole.”

  Running my thumb over her bottom lip, I smile. “Smartass.”

  Her eyes flutter closed and she sighs, the warmth of her breath tickles my skin. “That’s better.”

  “Are we fighting?” Leaning in, I replace my thumb with my lips, brushing them over hers softly. “Because it sounds like we’re fighting.”

  “You like fighting with me and you know it.”

  “I do,” I admit, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.

  “You know, I thought so. Some drunk prick told me that,” she replies, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “I just assumed he was full of shit.”

  Shaking my head, I stare down at her. Brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, I cup her jaw. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” she asks, her eyes widening.

  “My entire world is one fucked up situation after another. Then you show up, give me that smart mouth of yours, and somehow it’s easier to breathe.” I search her eyes, wishing I could read her thoughts.

  “Super powers,” she mumbles, making me chuckle. “You know we’re gonna have to talk about the other night at some point, right? You were right the other day, we can’t just leave it as if nothing happened.”

  Searching her eyes, I nod, fear and other emotions choke me. “Yeah, I know; we will. I think we have filled the quota on serious conversations for now.” Pressing my lips to the corner of her mouth, I kiss her softly. “I’m thinkin’,” I kiss her again, letting my lips linger a little longer, “what you need to do is,” and again, “shut up,” and again, “and kiss me.”

  Unable to help myself, I run my tongue along her bottom lip, before she gives in and does exactly that. How can this woman make me weak while, at the same time, give me the strength I need? Any other time, I’d be searching out a bar, ready to drown in a bottle until I can’t feel the ache in my chest anymore. In this moment, I don’t crave the burn of the alcohol; her taste is so much more addictive. I don’t want to be numb, I want to be able to feel every stroke of her tongue against mine, every brush of her lips. When she touches me, I feel like she sees me and my broken parts differently than everyone else. Instead of overlooking them or ignoring them, she is holding them together.


  Where the hell did this come from?

  Shelby sighs softly, opening her mouth to me. The moment her tongue touches mine, I am a goner. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her into me, needing her as close as possible. Just like the other night, the world fades away and all I can see is her. Us. My heart is beating rapidly, slamming against my ribcage, but I force myself to keep this slow. As much as I want to attack her mouth like before, I force myself to take the time to enjoy the feel of her mouth on mine, to really savor her taste. Frank’s death has me overthinking everything about my life and I am afraid of what I will say to her if we have this discussion right now.

  My hand slides into her hair, tilting her head so that I can deepen the kiss. Slow, deep, and torturous movements that I know are making her just as crazy as I am right now. I ache to have her again, to take her here and now, but I won’t.

  With her mouth on mine, I begin to see things clearly. I realize that Shelby is right about one thing. She’s not going anywhere.

  I can’t let her. I won’t risk losing her and there is only one way to keep that from happening.

  ***

  The sun is setting by the time we pull up outside Frank’s house. I’ve been quiet the entire drive, my mind running on overdrive. If Shelby notices, she doesn’t say anything about it. The screen door flies open the moment I park beside Luke’s car. “I was about to send a goddamn search party. You two just took off and I knew for sure one of you would come back beat half to hell.”

  “Your faith in me warms my little black heart, Luke.” Rolling her eyes, Shelby climbs out of the truck.

  “Your bag with your phone in it was in my car, Mitch’s cell is inside on the damn table going off every five minutes. The way you two go at each other, I was going off statistical facts.”

  “I’m all in one piece,” I say, patting down my chest before holding both arms out wide dramatically to give him a good look. “She never even tried to throw me in the river.”

  Walking past me, Shelby elbows me in the ribs. “Do we need to go back?”

  Luke laughs. “Micah took Diya and Maddie home. He said he’d be back tomorrow before the lawyer shows up.”

  “Mhm.” Heading for the porch, I clap Luke on the shoulder as I pass him. Following Shelby up onto the porch, my eyes lock on her ass snuggly wrapped in that black dress. Tossing her heels to the floor, she takes a seat in one of the rockers. Leaning her head back against the cushioned head rest, she closes her eyes and sighs. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

  “Have you eaten?” Luke asks, before beginning to ramble on about something that happened at the shop yesterday.

  “Mhm, Luke that’s great. Really,” I reply, brushing him off, my focus totally on her. There are so many things I should say to her, so much I need to explain, but I don’t even know where to begin.

  “I’m glad you think that an IRS audit, a shark attack, and me leaving Kionna because Skinner is pregnant with my love child is great, Mitch.” Luke slaps me on the back. Jerking around, I stare at him with wide eyes.

  “Say that again?” I ask, shaking my head.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” He scratches his goatee, a grin spreading across his face. “Ki is never gonna believe this.”

  “Believe what?” Shelby asks, opening her eyes.

  “Nothing,” Luke and I say in unison.

  “Whatever,” Shelby shrugs, pushing to her feet. Her eyes meet mine and she smiles. “I need a bath, food, and about twenty-seven-and-a-half hours of sleep.”

  “Have at it. Your bag is in the spare bedroom. Last door on the left. Bathroom is across the hall,” Luke informs her as she steps through the door. Making her way through the living room, she heads down the hallway. My eyes stay locked on her until she disappears into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  “I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” he says, scratching his head.

  “See what?” I ask, following him into the kitchen.

  Luke goes straight for the fridge. Yanking out sodas, he tosses me a can before opening one for himself. “I mean, sure, if you think about it, your constant fighting is like some kind of twisted foreplay,” he rambles, scrutinizing me. “You two have a lot in common. I mean, you’re both stubborn pains in the ass. You’re perfect for each other,” he laughs.

  “Hang on a second, Dr. Hanlon,” I argue. I hate when he analyzes me. “If you’re thinkin’ that I’m—”

  “What? That you’ve finally moved on? That you could even be falling in love with Shelby?” Luke asks, his question yanking the rug out from under me. “Are you sayin’ that you’re not?”

  “Actually,” I deadpan, swallowing hard. “I’m sayin’ I’m not capable of it.”

  Taking a drink, Luke shakes his head. “Wrong.” Sitting down, Luke places the can on the table in front of him. Looking up at me, he sighs. “I know you better than most, but it doesn’t take a genius to see you’ve been struggling for a while now. Shit hasn’t been easy for you, brother, I get it. You were lost, and fuck, have I missed my friend. I have to admit that, when I see you with her, I see pieces of that guy again. The right woman will bring out the best parts of us, even when we think they no longer exist.”

  “You’re serious about this?” I ask, leaning back against the counter. “Not ten minutes ago you were ready to start recruiting for search and rescue because you thought we’d kill each other. Now you’re tellin’ me I’m in love with her? This, whatever it is, has been happening all of five minutes.”

  “This isn’t a debate, but I’d still win if it were,” Luke says confidently, the smug look on his face has me wanting to knock his teeth down his throat. “This, as you’ve named it, has been happening for a hell of a lot longer than five minutes. It started the day Shelby walked into the shop, escalated every time you two bicker like children, and has been thrown into overdrive ever since she was shot.”

  “We couldn’t stand each other,” I point out. “The day of her accident, I didn’t do anything more than you’d have done, Luke.”

  “Sure,” Luke says, his voice softening. “She may twist you up and annoy you to the point of insanity, but no one risks their life, like you did for her, without there being feelings there. This has been a long time coming.”

  “Luke,” I warn, not wanting to have this discussion with him now, or ever. What happened that day needs to stay buried along with the bitch I emptied the bullets in.

  “Deny it all you want, Mitch, but you’re lyin’ to yourself. You were the one pacing for hours while she was in surgery, not me. Wasn’t Skinner or Chuck who bribed that ICU nurse with free ink for a year to get you in the room after visiting hours. That was all you.”

  “You’re right, okay, but you weren’t there!” I roar, throwing the soda can against the wall. The second it slams into the drywall, it explodes. Soda sprays everywhere, soaking the floor and walls. “You didn’t see her there, Luke! I. Did,” I snap, banging my fist against my chest. Visions of Shelby lying on the floor, bleeding at Kelly’s feet flood my vision. Rage blinds me and it takes everything I have not to punch the wall until my hand hurts as much I do thinking about that day. “Fuck! I couldn’t even breathe until I walked into that hospital room and saw her. Are you fuckin’ satisfied?”

  The sound of something clattering on the floor behind me freeze. Spinning around, I turn and see Shelby bending down to pick her shoes up off the floor.

  Isn’t this great…

  “I left my shoes outside.”

  Shelby hugs her heels to her chest. She stares at me, the tiny bits of green that mix in those blue eyes are more clear than ever before. “Shelby, I—” I start, not having a goddamn clue what to say to her. How much did she hear? I didn’t expect Luke to go all shrink couch confessionals on me or for Shelby to overhear it all.

  The room feels like it’s getting smaller and smaller by the second. Before I do something stupid, like break down and tell her everything
right here in front of Luke like some ridiculous, sappy soap opera, I get out of there. I don’t know why, but I tell her things I don’t tell anyone. She makes me feel, and I’m too vulnerable to go to that place right now without doing irreparable damage. I know I’ll say things neither of us can handle. Things that will only hurt us both. “I need some air.”

  Walking through the kitchen and the puddles of soda, I shove out the backdoor. I need to clear my head, to find some sort of clarity in the middle of all of the shit that has been thrown at me today. Walking through the backyard, the words Luke said still echo in my ears as if he were right here bitchin’ like a naggin’ wife.

  Damn him.

  Is it possible to love someone else as much as I loved Becky? If so, how do you give your heart to someone when you never got it back in the first place?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shelby

  What the hell just happened?

  I am surrounded by crazy people! Men: I’ll never fucking understand them…

  A million thoughts and emotions race through my mind, making it impossible to think straight. Throwing my shoes to the floor, I stomp past Luke without giving him a second glace. Flipping every switch by the door, I fling open the screen the moment the lights kick on, illuminating the entire backyard. “Hold it right there, asshole!” I shout the minute my bare feet hit the dirt.

  “Not doin’ this with you right now,” he replies not turning around.

  “I’m tired, barefoot, and pissed off! I refuse to chase you twice in one day!”

  “Never asked you to.” Mitch stops dead, just shy of reaching the tree line. Turning around, he takes a step toward me. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “Do what?” I ask, throwing up my arms and taking a few steps of my own. “Have a conversation? Not explode and run away from everything that is uncomfortable for you?”

 

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