Tattoo Killer (A Tattoo Crimes Novel Book 1)

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Tattoo Killer (A Tattoo Crimes Novel Book 1) Page 17

by A. J. Norris


  Sam cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. He waited for all side conversations to come to an end. “Good evening, and welcome everyone. I’m Sam. Let’s begin with a moment of silence.” They all bowed their heads. Sam recited the serenity prayer, “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” He scanned the faces of everyone seated. “I don’t see any new faces, but there are some I haven’t seen in a long while.” He winked at Mikey. “You want to introduce yourself to those that may not know—”

  “Who’s the new guy?” a man with salt and pepper hair interrupted.

  Everyone looked at him. “I’m Mike.”

  “Hi, Mike,” most of the group chorused.

  “Why don’t you share a little bit about what brought you here tonight?” Sam prompted. Mikey knew the guy was going to give him a hard time. Mikey looked to the ceiling.

  SQUEAK!

  Dimly, he was aware of the door opening and closing behind him but didn’t bother turning around. He really didn’t care who the alcoholic was. Everyone in the room was the same, only the details of their stories varied. The reason for drinking wasn’t unique to anyone present. They wanted to forget.

  “My ex-wife was murdered, my girl dumped me, and my son is counting on me to do right by him. Not that I don’t want to. Yep, that about covers it.”

  The fact that no one even blinked at Mikey’s “share” told him the stories of the others in the group were more fucked up then his. The latecomer lumbered around the circle and found a chair next to Sam. “Questions, comments, anyone?”

  Everyone’s head snapped in the direction of the new addition as he bumped the chair. Mikey face-palmed and slumped further in his seat. Any lower and he’d be lying down. He chuckled without humor.

  Unbelievable.

  Mikey realized that if he could survive this night without drinking, he may never take up the bottle again.

  “You want to share what’s so funny?” Sam asked.

  “Not really,” Mikey said.

  “I wanna know,” a woman to his right said.

  “Yeah,” a few others said.

  “Let’s take a vote,” another proposed.

  “This is not majority rules here. Mikey, you don’t have to answer to anyone here, including me,” Sam told him for the benefit of the others as well. He addressed the tardy guy. “Harry, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

  “Ahem. I’m Harry.”

  “Hi, Harry,” everyone said, Mikey louder than everyone else. The detective narrowed his eyes. Mikey curled his upper lip.

  First, Hunter had ruined things with Grace, then showed up at the funeral of his ex-wife, and now this bullshit. Okay, so Grace was his own fault. Still.

  You better be a fucking alcoholic, he mouthed to Harry.

  What? he mouthed back.

  Mikey repeated himself, except this time about every other word came out as a squeak.

  Sam frowned at both of them. “You should take this outside, gentlemen.”

  “No, I’m good,” Mikey said.

  “I’m here to share,” Harry said, feigning innocence with his palms up.

  “You guys know each other?” a woman asked.

  Harry grunted. “You could say that.”

  “How?” a few asked.

  Mikey decided to answer for both of them. “He’s my girl’s father.”

  “I thought you said she dumped you?” Number one nosy pants asked. He glared at her. “Well, that’s what you said isn’t it?”

  The others murmured in agreement.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake’s, what does it matter?” Despite Mikey’s extreme annoyance, he was still seated the same way as before. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “All right, my ex-girlfriend’s father. Are you happy now?”

  “Well, yes,” she said.

  Mikey looked at Sam like aren’t you going to say anything. He took the hint.

  “Harry? What brings you here tonight?” Sam asked.

  “Long fucking day. It started with a ten-year-old ripping my heart out. Sweet kid whose mother just passed away. Then I tried to do someone a favor and that favor turned into being groped.”

  Mikey’s eyes went round and he laughed. He didn’t need to be told Harry was referring to Marie. The woman was psychotic.

  “Not funny,” Harry said.

  “It’s totally funny. And let me guess; Marie.” Mikey howled with laughter.

  “What do you know about it?”

  “About what? That’s she’s a freak? When you both disappeared at the same time, I knew she’d roped you into taking her back to the hotel. I was glad I didn’t have to do it.”

  The members of the group sat in silence, some with their mouths open. Harry peered around the circle at each of their faces then leaned back in his chair. He chuckled. “Okay, it’s a little funny. What the hell is wrong with her?”

  “You want a list? This meeting is only a couple hours long.”

  Harry scratched his head. “A warning would have been nice.”

  “How was I supposed to know you would be stupid enough to leave with her?” Mikey was full-on grinning from ear to ear now.

  “I t-thought…I was doing…you a f-favor,” Harry said between bursts of laughter. His eyes had tears in them. “Least I could…d-do.”

  Sam had a gleam in his eye when he spoke, “Okay, let’s get back to the meeting.”

  They sat and listened to a couple of the other members. The nosy woman shared her story about how she’d killed her best friend when they’d gone out drinking one night. She’d jumped the curb and flipped her car into a pine tree. Her friend didn’t have a seatbelt on. This had happened thirty years ago when they were teenagers, and the guilt still controlled her.

  Mikey felt inspired to share more of his story. He didn’t know why, or maybe he wanted Harry to know.

  “I’ve been an alcoholic as long as I can remember. My family owned a chain of liquor stores, so access was never a problem. It’s funny, I remember my dad getting hammered, like, every night. My mom would cry. She would make me hide in the closet when he got really bad. He never hit me that I can recall, but my mom was scared of him. This happened so frequently I kept a notebook and pencil along with a flashlight in the closet and I would draw.” Tears welled in Mikey’s eyes. “It’s probably why I became an artist.”

  Harry made a sound of disdain.

  “Tattoo artists are artists, Harry,” Mikey said. “The canvas doesn’t matter.”

  The detective nodded.

  “Well, my story is different from all of yours, but the feelings, the reason for drinking, it’s no different,” Mikey finished.

  “Thank you,” Sam said. “Who wants to go next?”

  “Hey, I want to know why Harry was groped. That sounds interesting,” a man Mikey recognized as Chuck said.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTY-NINE

  Grace

  Grace knocked on Mikey’s front door. Glancing around the porch, she didn’t see the sidelight curtain fall back into place. The door swung open. Brayden stood behind the screen door with his arms crossed. By the way he looked, she imagined he was tapping his foot behind the bottom half of the door. “Hi, is your dad home?”

  “Uh uh.”

  “Are you home by yourself?”

  “No.” He eyed her suspiciously. For the first time, she noticed his eyes were the same color as his father’s.

  Andrea popped her head around the door. “Who are you talking to? Oh hi, Grace. You looking for Mikey?”

  Grace half-smiled. “Yeah.”

  “He’s not home.” Andrea checked her watch. “He should be back soon though. Come inside.” She opened the screen door.

  Grace followed her into the living room where a movie was playing on the TV. The volume was on low and she could barely hear the dialogue.

  “Brayden, it’s time for bed. Your dad will be home soon. I promised I’d have
you in bed at nine o’clock, and it’s almost ten,” Andrea said. She led him back to his bedroom. Grace trailed behind them.

  Brayden got into bed and pulled his shirt and socks off before laying his head on the pillow. Andrea kissed his forehead. Grace stayed by the door.

  Feeling out of place, Grace turned to leave.

  “Grace?” Brayden said.

  She stopped and poked her head back inside the room. “Yeah?”

  “I figured out what I wanted to do for my mom,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Brayden looked at Grace for a long moment without speaking. She waited. When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there today.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?” A tear rolled down her cheek. “How?”

  “Because you’re here now.” Brayden rolled over and tugged the covers up to his neck.

  Grace smiled. The kid had a point. She and Andrea started back toward the living room. Brayden came running out of the bedroom. “You didn’t hug me goodnight.”

  “Sorry,” Grace said, bending over to give him a squeeze. She mopped her eyes as she watched him walk to his room in only his gray sweatpants. The door shut with a click.

  Grace joined Andrea in the living room. She perched on the edge of the couch with her hands tucked beneath her thighs. The other woman sat in one of the chairs across from her.

  “That kid, he’s incredible,” Andrea said.

  The tension in Grace’s body eased. “Yeah, he is. Is it cool if I hang out and wait for Mikey?”

  Andrea smiled at her. “Of course. You know, I don’t blame you for getting upset and either does he.” An open book lay on the coffee table and she picked up the trashy novel, but instead of reading she earmarked the page. She yawned and checked her watch again. “Speaking of which, where is he?”

  The side door off the kitchen opened. Keys hit the tiled floor followed by a curse. Grace moved toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, hey, I thought that was your car parked out front,” Mikey said, a lopsided smile on his face. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  Okay, clearly he wasn’t going to make this easy on her. “Can we talk?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, but let me check on Brayden first.” She felt the heat of him as he brushed past her. His scent lingered in the air; she sniffed.

  Grace walked back to the couch and sat down. Andrea had disappeared. She heard the front door close. Feeling insecure with a wacko still on the loose, she got up and locked the door, putting the chain in place. She leaned her back against the door. Her shoulders sagged. On the way over to Mikey’s, she’d rehearsed what she wanted to say to him but now all she wanted to do was hold onto him.

  She returned to the couch and waited for what seemed like an hour. When he never came back out, she wandered down the hallway. Brayden’s door was shut but a light shone beneath Mikey’s bedroom door at the end of the hall.

  She knocked. “Mikey?” her voice sounded tiny.

  He didn’t respond. Panic squeezed her heart. “Mikey?” She grabbed the handle. The knob was yanked out of her hand.

  “Sorry.” He yawned. “I dozed off.”

  “Do you want me to come back tomorrow…or—” Her eyes blazed; he’d removed his shirt.

  “You don’t have to go.” Mikey backed up and allowed her to enter his room. She sat on the end of the bed. The muscles in his back bunched as he shut the door and locked it. Grace had never considered tattoos sexy, but she quivered thinking about his smooth skin, ink or no ink.

  Her breath caught when he turned around. My God, he had an awesome chest. She’d forgotten.

  “What?”

  “Huh?” She shook her head and looked away. Her whole body heated. But this wasn’t why she had come over. She wanted him, yes, but she also wanted to apologize and talk things out.

  “It’s just the expression on your face. And your mouth is open.”

  Is it?

  She clamped her jaws tight. “I’m sorry. I…”

  He slashed his hand in front of his chest. “You don’t have to apologize. I was wrong. I should have told you what was going on.”

  “I didn’t tell you about my—”

  “I don’t care who your father is and—shit.” Mikey rubbed his face with his hands.

  “What’s wrong?” She went to him except stood an arm’s length away.

  “I’m so tired, Grace. Can we talk about this later?”

  “Can I?” She reached for him with hesitant arms. He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. Tears pooled in her eyes. His fingers stroked her hair.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered. “I need be inside you tonight.”

  And I want you inside me.

  “Okay.”

  He grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled the tank top off. She moaned as his lips pressed against hers.

  “Hmm, no bra. I like this. What else aren’t you wearing?”

  She shimmied out of her pink and gray plaid Bermuda shorts and kicked off her slip-on wedges.

  “Take your panties off,” he said as he kissed her neck. His hands cupped her breasts. A thumb brushed over her nipple.

  Oh God.

  A surge of heat flooded her. She loved foreplay but right now that wasn’t what she wanted. She hooked a finger around the thin lacy top band of her thong. “You want this?” she teased.

  His pupils flared. A guttural groan left his mouth.

  “Well come and get it.” She crooked a finger, urging him to join her on the bed. She slinked up toward the pillows. He caught one of her ankles and gently eased her back down to the edge where she positioned herself on all fours.

  Mikey yanked her G-string down her thighs. Grace helped him when he reached her knees. The ceiling fan made the air feel cool now that she was fully bared to him. His belt clanked and the sound of his pants being dropped thrilled her.

  “Is this how you want it?” Mikey’s voice was low and deep.

  “Uh huh…please,” she breathed.

  He ran a hand down her spine, fingered her opening. “Oh, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

  She moaned when he slipped two fingers into her. He worked her until she begged for his cock. “Please. Come inside me.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.” He gripped her hips. Grace parted her knees a little more and settled into the mattress.

  Mikey pushed past her delicate softness. An involuntary squeak of pleasure escaped her. She hoped he understood her needs; she didn’t want leisurely and easy where the waves of ecstasy gradually built. Nope. She wanted pulse pounding, devastating sex, just short of an adult film.

  He eased his hips backward until he was almost out. This he did four agonizingly slow times. She panted and began to sweat as panic set in. Her inner walls clamped around his shaft when he stilled.

  “Oh,” he groaned. He leaned forward and fondled her beasts. His hands slid along her underside and found her hips again. Mikey pulled his hips back then thrust into her. She pitched forward but his hold on her hips kept her from falling onto her stomach. He drove into her, again and again.

  “Oh, yes…yes.” Blood thundered past her ears. Her spirit soared as rapture overtook over her. More pounding. More thrusting. More everything. Their breaths sawed in and out. Her body became liquid and her elbows collapsed. She turned her head to the side. Despite the new accidental position, bursts of pleasure struck hard and fast. She couldn’t breathe, but she could do that later.

  “Oh, oh, oh…G-Grace, I can’t stop. I’m…oh fuck, yes.” Mikey’s body shuddered. His sex kicked inside her silky channel. When he finished, he patted her bottom before pulling out and lying next to her.

  Grace settled into a more comfortable position. “Mmmm…thank you,” she smiled with her eyes closed.

  Mikey labored to breathe. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. Grace traced a finger around the outside of his raven tattoo. “Will you be getting any more?”

  “Tattoos?” He turned
on his side and rubbed her back. “I’m a tattoo artist; what do you think?”

  “Well, you really don’t have that many. I was curious, if you’re planning on covering your entire body.”

  “Actually, I’m working on a design now, but I’m not sure when I’ll have the time to get the work done. But to answer your question, no, I’m not going to have my entire body inked.”

  Grace rested on her elbows. The sheet rasped against her nipples. Mikey eyed her tight breasts. “Roll over. I want those in my mouth.”

  Without hesitation, she complied and put her hands over her head, free as the phoenix on his back. She felt safe with him and wanted him to know.

  He suckled her, flicked his tongue over her nipples. She rocked her hips in pleasure. “Mmmm.”

  Mikey lifted his head and revealed half-mast eyes and puffy lips. “Still so horny…and wet.” His hand cupped her sex and he pushed his middle finger inside.

  Her back arched; he’d found her G-spot. “Oh, God.”

  He smiled at her. “You like that?”

  “I’m a sex goddess, what do you think?”

  His laughter cut through the room. “Yes. You are.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Grace

  Grace tiptoed past Brayden’s room.

  Creak.

  She winced. The floor insisted on making noise. She continued on toward the living room.

  “Good morning, Grace.”

  The blood drained out of her head.

  Crap.

  She turned to find Brayden standing in the middle of hallway outside his room. He was wide awake and already dressed in jeans and a TMNT t-shirt. She tied to think of a viable excuse for being in the house so early on a Saturday morning. Although, she wasn’t sure why it mattered. She’d already spent many nights sleeping over, or maybe it was she knew the kid missed nothing and she was embarrassed for doing his father.

 

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