by Heather Anne
"So another petal?" I ask and he says yeah as he takes his shirt off.
His entire back is done up almost like a forest with trees and bushes and shit. It's all black and white except for the single petal-less flower. Each fallen petal has the name of someone who passed on with the year of their death underneath. I get my prep done and set up to start the outline. This I do freehand. Every petal comes out slightly different and Frankie says it symbolizes that each person is different. He tries to be deep but it doesn’t work.
I turn on my machine and the buzzing noise relieves some of my tension.
"You sure you don't want to do one run for me? I have a big one coming up that I need a guy for."
"I already told you, my days of running drugs are over."
“Are you sure? It's a six G job."
"Nah, I’m good."
"Alright then."
I finish the tattoo and Frankie hands me a hundred-dollar bill. It's the standing payment we agreed upon years ago when we started doing the petals.
He looks at it in the mirror and smiles. "Thanks man. Looks great"
I lather some A&D ointment on him and wrap him up. "You know the drill. Light ointment first few days. Wash with soap and water, don't rub. Then use lotion and don't pick any scabs." He nods and I start cleaning up. He walks towards the front of the shop.
“Oh, shit,” he calls back to me. “I forgot to give you your tip. I’ll leave it on the counter."
"Thanks." I hear his footsteps fade and the door close behind him.
I finish cleaning up and walk up to the front. I lock the door, turn back to the desk and my heart starts to beat out of my chest. Sweat beads on my brow and my palms feel clammy. Son of a bitch. I walk slowly over the counter. This is probably one of the times I should be calling Kevin, but I don't. Instead, I pick up the small baggie that is sitting on top of a twenty. I ignore the money and stare at the little blue pills. OxyContin.
Fuck. Me. Hard. I want the feeling they will give, but at what cost?
I am pulled from my thought when I hear my phone ringing from my station. I shove the baggie and cash in my pocket and retrieve my phone. I smile as soon as I see her name
"Hey, sweet girl."
"Grayson." Hearing the panic in her voice, I grab my keys and head back to the front of the shop.
"Skylar, what's wrong?"
"Grayson, I need you to come here now." Her words are coming out in shaky breaths. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE NOW DAMN IT!" She lets out a whimper, my chest tightens and anger rises within me.
"Skylar, what the fuck is going on?" I punch in the code and run to my truck. She sobs louder.
"Please hurry. They found me." The line goes dead.
Chapter Thirty
How the fuck did they find me? I’m freaking the fuck out, screaming out my front door for the asshole reporter to leave, willing Grayson to get here. I am in tears and the guy storms towards me. I can’t close my door fast enough.
"Listen bitch, I paid a lot of money for a fucking story and I want it."
This reporter looks young, maybe mid-twenties with the all-American boy look going for him; sandy brown hair, pale blue eyes, and probably about six feet tall.
"I don't know where you got the information, but there is no story."
"Oh yeah? Then why won't you sign off on the lawsuit against the Department of Veterans Affairs? Why did your attorney send a cease and desist letter? Why are you threatening to sue them for slander and defamation of character? Haven't you put them through enough?" His hand tightens around my arm and I cry out in pain.
"How the fuck did you find me?" I grunt as I twist my body just enough to where I get a good shot to his groin with my knee. He grunts.
"You stupid bitch!" He lunges at me, sirens blaring in the distance. All I can think of is Gray called Camden. The guy stands up and looks around. I can tell he’s plotting his next move so I inch my way closer to the open door. My adrenaline is pumping so high, I’m in survival mode. I stumble and he grabs me by the hair. I shout out from the bite I feel in my scalp. He pulls me by my hair and I kick my legs, trying to get my footing. This mother fucker is so insane; I have never felt so in fear for my life.
Fight Skylar. Fight. Don't let them win, I tell myself. He lifts my head and slams it against the floor. Stars float in front of my eyes from the impact. I’m disoriented and I can't tell if the squealing tires I hear in my driveway are real. I am suddenly being straddled. I flinch, closing my eyes when I see his arm pull back and then all of a sudden I am weightless.
"GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" Grayson rages but I can’t bring myself to open my eyes.
I hear knuckles against flesh and cracking of bones. I curl into myself and start sobbing. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, I’m shaking to the point where it feels like I’m convulsing. The sirens wail, more tires screech. Heavy footfalls pound on the asphalt and I hear Camden.
"That's enough, Grayson." An unfamiliar hand touches me. I sob at the contact.
"Get out of my way," Gray commands. My eyes are squeezed shut but I can feel him crouch next to me.
"Baby." He gathers me in his arms.
I cling to him like he is my lifeline. I cry harder and he rubs my back, whispering words of reassurance – telling me I’m ok and that Camden got the asshole. I pull back to look at him. The pain etched on his face and in his hazel eyes is a look I will never forget.
"I’m ok," I croak out.
"Let the medic look at you, ok?" He stands up with me still wrapped around him. I bury my face in his neck as he walks me outside then sits me on a gurney inside an ambulance.
"I don't want to go to the hospital," I whine and Gray grabs my hand.
"Let the medic determine what you need, ok?" I nod and the guy pokes and prods at me while shining a light so bright into my eyes it stings. He feels the back of my head and I wince when he gets to the goose egg already forming. He looks at the bruises on my arm and Grayson growls.
"I am going to kill that mother fucker."
"No, you aren't." Camden appears out of nowhere.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He addresses Gray and I nod. He lifts my hand to his lips.
"Be right back."
I can hear Grayson and Cam's voices in a heated discussion but I can’t make out what they are saying.
"Ok, Skylar, no concussion just a bad bump. You are going to be sore. Do you have any ibuprofen?" I nod. "Take three every six hours. Pain should go away in a day or so."
"Thank you."
"Come on, sweet girl." Grayson carries me back to the house, passing the reporter who is in handcuffs and struggling, his face bloodied and broken.
We get inside and Grayson sits me on the couch and I hear him in the bathroom and then the kitchen. He comes back with medicine and a bottle of water.
"Here. Take these." He hands me the pills, opens the water, and places the cool bottle to my mouth.
I take it from him and guzzle almost the entire bottle. I’m still trembling. Not from the cold, but from the adrenaline comedown. Gray grabs the blanket from behind the couch, wraps it around me, and pulls me into his side.
"Asshole isn't giving us his name and he has no ID on him." Camden rolls his neck in frustration.
"He claims he paid ten grand for an interview with you. All we know is that it was a woman. He hasn't met her in person. Everything was done via e-mail and Western Union."
“What the fuck?" I say at the same time Grayson grits, “I’m going to kill that fucking skank."
"What?" Both Cam and I say at the same time.
"This has Kristy written all over it," he spits out. He tries to get up and I pull him back down.
“Please let Cam handle it. I need you here." I feel tears start to form in my eyes and Grayson hugs me tight.
"I’m not going anywhere."
"Thank you." I place a soft kiss on his cheek.
"So, what now?" Gray asks Cam
"I’m going to try to track Kris
ty down and find out who this asshole works for. If he has that much money for a story, chances are, he’ll make bail." I stiffen.
"It's going to be ok," Grayson assures me.
"An automatic protection order will be filed. He can’t go within 100 feet of you."
"Can we get one for Kristy, too?" Grayson asks
“I need to talk to her first but if it's proven it’s her, it won't be a problem," he assures us and I sigh in relief.
"Ok guys, I am out of here. Skylar if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call." Camden leans down and kisses my cheek.
Grayson walks him to the door. "Thanks, brother." He pulls him into one of those weird guy hugs.
"Anytime. Now lock up behind me and go take care of your girl," Camden orders. Grayson nods and turns to me.
"You ok, sweet girl?"
Am I ok? I have no idea how to answer. "I think I will be after a shower and a change of clothes."
Grayson carries me into the bathroom and sets me on the toilet while he turns on the water. He undresses me at a leisurely pace and then undresses himself. He guides me into the shower and starts washing me with a loofa, making sure to use my vanilla body wash. This is Grayson taking care of me and I rather like it. He takes his time working lazy, soapy circles all over my body. He’s extra gentle when he washes and conditions my hair. I go towards him and he stops me.
"I got it, sweet girl."
He is quick to wash himself and the next thing I know, we are both wrapped in towels and in my bedroom. I dress in a V-neck t-shirt and yoga pants as he retrieves his clothes from the bathroom. He comes back wearing his shirt and boxer briefs. We climb into bed and he pulls my head into crook of his arm, cuddling me close.
"You feeling better, baby?"
"I guess. I just don’t get it"
“Get what?"
“Why? Why, after a year and half, this is still big news. Why people don't leave me alone and let me get on with my life. I did nothing wrong."
"No, you didn't. I don't know why, babe." We are both silent.
"I get that Tim hurt people. Shit, I hurt every day because of it. They blame me and they don't need to. I blame myself more than enough for everyone else, even though I know it was the PTSD and every professional under the sun has told me I couldn't have done anything different. The guilt just sucks." Closing my eyes, I bury my face into his chest.
"Yeah, I understand that. Guilt eats at you like rust on metal." I look up at him, not understanding where this is coming from.
"That's a good way to look at it. I feel like I’m stuck in a place between the past and the present. Unable to move forward because people won't let me. I want to let go so bad but I don't know how.”
"I think I understand that better than anyone," he admits.
I look at him again, curious to know what he is going to say next, feeling like this is a breakthrough for us.
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and in just a whisper says, "Her name was Lainey."
Chapter Thirty-One
"Her name was Lainey," I whisper.
I’m not sure how much I want to tell Skylar of my past, but after everything that happened tonight, especially with it being my fault, I need to tell her something. Her eyes widen and she says breathless, "What?”
I clear my throat, willing my eyes not to burn. “My wife. Her name was Lainey."
Skylar looks at me, pain in her eyes. Pain for me, pain for her. I blow out a breath, relieved that someone gets my pain. That I can share it with her and she just gets it.
"We were high school sweethearts. Together since we were sixteen, married at 23 until the day she took her own life almost five years ago." I close my eyes, trying to stop my body from trembling, not wanting to see the pity that will be waiting for me when I open my eyes.
I feel her as she hugs me tight and I open my eyes to see shimmering gray eyes, not filled with pity, but with understanding.
"It sucks losing someone you love," she snuggles close. I smile because leave it Sky to just speak the blunt truth.
"It sure does." Pulling her further into me, our arms wrapped around each other, my world feels right.
Being with her, being open about things, doesn't hurt. It offers me a little bit of a release from the chains of my past, but I can't go any further. I’m not ready, not sure if I ever will be, not to mention the fact that I am not deserving.
"Well, aren't we a pair," she says, leaning up on her elbow, wiping the tears from her eyes. I can’t stop myself from staring at her any more than can I stop the impact of what flies out of my mouth.
"We sure are.”
She closes her eyes as my hand comes up and cups her cheek. I rub my thumb on her jaw. "Gray," she pleads. For what, I don't know.
To tell her everything? To tell her I want her more than anything? To tell her I feel even a fraction of the feelings radiating from her? I can't tell her any of those things. The only thing I can do is kiss her. I slant my mouth over hers, nipping at her bottom lip, wanting her to open. Wanting her to let me show her what I am nowhere near ready to verbalize. I know the timing pretty much sucks, but I can't help myself where she is concerned.
The kiss is slow, tantalizing. When she kisses me back with equal pressure, the emotion hanging between us is so thick, I could reach out and touch it. After the altercation with the psycho, it's like we both need to make sure the other is still here and real. We continue to kiss slowly, consuming each other. Giving as much as the other is willing to take from the kiss. She shifts so she is straddling me and my hands that were around her back, slide slowly down to her gorgeous ass.
She shivers at my touch and I smile against her lips, capturing them again. She trails kisses against my jaw, her teeth nipping at my neck followed by the soothing velvet of her tongue. She leans down further so she is practically laying on top of me. I can feel every inch of her, her skin scorching me through her clothes, her nipples hardening at the contact, and I can't wait. I roll her over, assaulting her neck with my mouth and playing with the hem of her shirt. Her sugary scent combined with the salty, sweet taste of her skin drives me crazy.
I remove my mouth and slowly lift her top over her head, leaving goosebumps in my fingers' wake. I toss the shirt on the floor and kiss her slowly. She is an eager little thing, pressing that sweet tongue against my lips. I smile as I open for her, allowing her devour me as her tongue sucks on mine. She moans as my mouth leaves her lips, trails down the curve of her delicious neck, to her shoulder where I graze her with my teeth. She goes for my shirt and I lift up off of her to help. The minute the shirt is off, my mouth is on hers again. Her arms go around my neck, pulling me down on top of her perfect body and we both groan at the contact. She feels amazing against me. She fits me like a fucking glove and right now, I marvel in it.
I let her hot, greedy hands play with the waistband of my briefs as my calloused ones push her yoga pants and panties down. She gets my briefs all the way down and the look of desire mixed with love swirling in her eyes nearly guts me. I take her hands and link our fingers as I raise our arms above her head, our gazes never straying. I feel my cock at her entrance and as I start to slowly push through, it feels good, way too good.
"Fuck." I stop and see the worry in her eyes.
"Condom." I grit out and my eyes widen as she shakes her head.
"I’m on the shot. Please, Grayson," she pleads with me to go bare. Have nothing between us. To take my reservations, totally letting them go, and as I sink into her, I allow myself to do just that.
I see the love radiating in her eyes, I feel it deep down in my soul, and for just this once, I allow myself to love her. I slowly thrust in and out of her, the room quiet except for the sound of our breathing and our bodies joining. She reaches up, running her fingers down the stubble on my jaw and I lean in, kissing her deeply. I let my lazy tongue lap at hers as I continue my tortuously slow pace.
She bucks her hips, wanting me to go faster, but I can’t. I need to
savor her. Devour her. Bask in this moment of pure bliss. I see tears forming in her eyes as I feel her muscles starts to clench around me.
"Grayson I-" she starts, but I cut her off with a kiss.
I don't know if she was going to tell me she is about to come or if she’s about to give me a declaration of the love she can see we both feel. I know if she does, I can't return it let alone hear it.
"I got you," I say gruffly against her mouth as I pump a little faster, and that's the truth.
Right now, I have her. Right now, she has me. Right now, we belong to each other. I feel her muscles tighten and her release washes over my cock that explodes inside her. All I can think of as I fill her is Mine. But she's not. Not anymore. Not after what I caused her. I slump over her, peppering her face with kisses before I roll over. She slides out of the bed and heads to the bathroom.
I hear the water running and it’s almost like cold water to my face. What did I just do? I just made love to her. I showed her a part me that has been kept hidden for so long. I calm myself quickly as I hear the faucet turn off. She comes back and something warm and wet hits me in the chest. She smiles as I take the washcloth and wash us from my cock. In washing away the traces of her, I wash away the love we shared. Though brief, it can't be. I’m a fucked up asshole. I know this, I just wish she could see it.
She gets into the bed and curls into my side. She fits perfect, like the missing piece to my complicated puzzle. She looks up at me and sighs as she lays her head back down in the crook of my arm. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can be all in with her. Maybe I am not as broken as I think I am, but then she says the one word that changes everything…..
"Stay."
After everything that happened tonight, I know I should, but I also know what it truly means when she says that single word.
She’s not asking me to just stay tonight, she is asking me to stay. To be with her with nothing from our pasts between us. To open up to her about everything, but I just don't have the words. When I don't answer her, she just sighs and cuddles closer. I’m not sure how long I lay there, listening to her breathe. I think over the night, over everything that happened. Frankie, her phone call, seeing that fucker assaulting her, telling her a little bit about Lainey and making love to her. That was one of the best the experiences ever.
