Bad Ink

by Megan Hetherington

  I check my phone for messages. None from Isaac. He’s still paranoid about us texting and calling each other. Mom has messaged though, reminding me she will pick Hope up from music class. Shit. I didn’t think about that. Hope is bound to tell Mom about this new friend of mine she met at the fair yesterday, who has promised to buy her a puppy. She will need at least a few days for the tattoo to wash off and the memory to fade.

  I text Mom back and tell her I’ll pick Hope up. I need to buy myself time to come up with a plan.

  Fortunately, the afternoon’s court hearing stutters and the judge is frustrated with the lack of smooth progress so adjourns to the following day.

  It irks me that I could have made a better job of this case than Tessa has. But what is most confusing is I know how to deal with all matter of decisions and crises at work but in my personal life I’m a gibbering idiot.

  At least the cessation of today’s hearing means I can get to Isaac’s early and still pick Hope up on time from her music class.

  It feels bad to leave work mid-trial. Elliot knows everything important to know about the case, but even he is disinterested in the details. It’s because he rarely needs to know them and I can’t tell him why this time it’s different.

  I hope we don’t have to leave everyone in the crap. Hopefully, there’ll be the early part of next week to make sure Elliot is up to speed.

  ◆◆◆

  With significant churning in my stomach, I swoop the car down the ramp toward the roller shutter door. As promised, the door slides up and I plunge into the dark garage in the basement of Isaac’s apartment building. There’s a moment when light filters through from outside but before I can park the car, it’s gone. The lights on the Porsche illuminate and I turn into the spot Isaac instructed I use.

  I don’t like this. One bit.

  The nervousness is draining. And also, ethereal. I’m only worried because Isaac has told me to be. I don’t recognize the threat and wouldn’t if it tapped me on the shoulder. If it’s Carlos, then I don’t know him well enough. My only memory of him was as a teenager. Wiry and annoyingly mouthy. I didn’t care for him then but wasn’t scared by him. Now, Isaac is making him out to be a big bad wolf, when the only scary person I’ve been exposed to is Isaac himself. Or should I say, Raul.

  Ignoring the inviting passenger elevator, I head for the other one, briefly checking out the shadows and small noises which emanate from every corner of this dank place. I punch in my birth date on the code pad, and the elevator speeds to the top of the building, leaving my stomach below ground.

  It still isn’t clear when Isaac found out about Hope. And to know her birthday makes a shiver tingle up my spine. This, and a million other questions, stack in my mind. With only an hour to spare, it doesn’t seem like they’ll be answered tonight.

  The steel door to the rooftop deck springs open and with the gentlest of pushes I’m stepping into the designer garden. Isaac’s sat in the hot tub, his head rested back on a cushion and shaded eyes pointing to a cloud spotted sky.

  Lazily, he cocks his head onto a side and pushes his glasses onto his forehead. The wicked grin on his face tells me he’s stark naked in the tub. I know it.

  All those questions I have float out of my mind. The hot tub would be inviting even without him.

  “Hey there.” He smirks. “Hard day at the office?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it.” I jut out a hip.

  “Good. I’m here to wipe away the tension.”

  I cock a brow.

  “Come in and let me show you.” He curls his hand, resting on the deck at the side of the hot tub and lazily lifts the corner of his mouth in to an irresistible smile.

  For a moment, I stare at him. Wanting him to take me seriously for once but against my better judgment I remove my clothes and gingerly dip my toes. Isaac reaches up and pulls me by the waist into the bubbles. Heaven. The salt water feels silky and the jets invigorating. Not to mention the way my body glides against his.

  “We do have plenty to discuss, Isaac.”

  He snickers. “Talk away, Kitty. I’m listening.” Pulling his sunglasses back down which only further highlights his roguish smile.

  “Really?” More than a tinge of disbelief wrapped around the word.

  “You been in here long?” I rub my leg over the top of his thigh.

  He laughs. “Not that it makes any difference. I’m hard for you, Kitty, whatever.”

  His burly arms wrap around my waist and he lifts me onto his lap.

  “I have to pick Hope up in less than an hour and I want to know where we’re going?” I ask, removing his sunglasses so I can see his response.

  “What now. Or later?” He teases, placing his hands on my hips and rubbing me over his length.

  Shivers tingle across my clit and I have to concentrate on swallowing so I can carry on the conversation. “Seriously, Isaac. I need to know. I can’t up sticks without a plan.”

  He sighs, letting up on the rocking of my hips. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Not too far away. Near to my parents. My friends.” I rest my hands over his shoulders, making my breasts squeeze together.

  A low growl rumbles up his throat and his hands rub over the sides of my ribs and across to my nipples. “Okay. How about Arizona?”

  “Hmm,” I moan. “Too hot.”

  “Nevada?” His thumbs circle my nipples.

  “Also too hot.” My hips sway in response to the buttons he’s pressing.

  “You live in San Diego, how can anywhere be too hot?” he tips his head to graze his teeth across my jaw.

  “Too dry then.”

  He licks away the stings from the bites.

  “Anyway, I thought you enjoyed being by the ocean. It’s what you always used to tell me.” I say, circling my center over his erection.

  “I do.” He smiles, a range of emotions cloud across his face.

  “Upstate then?” I say dabbing myself onto the end of his cock.

  “Not sure. Has to be somewhere we can’t easily be found.”

  I still and then rest away from him, my arms still roped around the back of his neck. “Where then? It seems you have more need to choose where we go than I do. All I want is a safe place to raise Hope. A nice neighborhood. Good school. Where she has family and friends. Oh, and not too hot.”

  He pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. “What about upstate? A small town. Away from any cities. Oregon might be good.”

  “Oregon?” I regard his expression closely. I’ve never been there and damn sure he hasn’t either. “And what about a house—can I choose that too?”

  “Sure. I’ll get contact details for a real estate agent. They can help you organize a rental. One close to a good school.”

  My chest feels lighter with the modicum of a plan in place. But my head files away every snippet of information and every snapshot of his reaction.

  He trails a finger across the lines on my forehead. “It’ll be fine,” he says.

  “Will my parents be able to visit us?”

  “Once the dust has settled.”

  I feel like I should push this more. “I’m kinda thinking we should trust them with this. Tell them we’re going, so at least they’re not worried.”

  “It’s too risky.”

  “But we can’t take off without letting them in on it. They’ll be worried sick. File a missing person’s report. Go to the press. We’ll be plastered over the side of milk cartons.” The despair in my voice clear.

  He chews on his lip. “I’ll think of a plan. But for now, you can’t mention it.”

  “But it’s already become an issue—I’ve had to cancel them seeing Hope tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’ll let on we met you yesterday. And they’re not stupid. They’re gonna put two and two together.”

  “Shit. Didn’t think.”

  “I know. It was a mistake.”

  “What me meeting my daughter?” He shuffles o
n the molded seat.

  “No… I didn’t mean that—just the whole circumstance we’re in.”

  “There’s not much I can do about it now. We weren’t supposed to meet until the path was clear.”

  For a while, I stare into his eyes, doubting myself for trusting this man who won’t let me in on what’s going on yet expects me and Hope to give up everything for him.

  “And what about my work and home?” I further test my theory on something less contentious.

  “You sure have many questions. I’m hard for you Kitty.”

  I huff. “You’d better come up with some quick answers before you limp out.”

  “Work isn’t important? You don’t need to work anymore. I seem to remember you mentioning how you feel guilty for not being a stay at home Mom.”

  “I do. But who would I be if I did?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean? You’re you. You’ll always be that.”

  “Sure. But a small piece of me might get lost somewhere.” My independence is the key to my survival in life. I can’t be reliant on anyone else. Least of all the person who left me all those years ago and has chosen not to get in contact, despite knowing he has a daughter.

  “It’s all about choices, Cate.”

  “Hmm. And what if I choose to stay?”

  He laughs and pulls me into his chest, whispering in my ear, “It’s not a choice. Not now, Kitty.”

  “I know. But it scares me.”

  “There’s nothing to be scared of. Not when I’m here to protect you.”

  “And my home?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make the rental payments for a while. The owner won’t be out of pocket. And it will keep everyone guessing.”

  I pull back to study him for a few heartbeats. Unsure what to make of his blasé attitude. I suppose he doesn’t have the same ties. Or as much to lose.

  “So, do you think these people know of me already?”

  “No, but they will dig into everything as soon as I disappear. It’s when they’ll learn about you. And Hope.”

  He swipes away a stray bubble spurted onto my face. “It will be okay. Leave it to me and don’t worry. You choose a house and a school for Hope. And I’ll fix the rest. And for the moment let’s keep this between you and me. I’m sorry about your parents but we can’t risk them finding out right now.”

  As he tilts in to kiss me, I say, “I’ll hold you to that, Isaac, this has to work, otherwise I’m straight back here.”

  He laughs. “Yep. You’ve proved to me you’re feisty and determined. It’s up to me to make sure you’ll never want to leave me. And all I ask of you, is to carry on as normal, do everything you would usually do between now and when we leave. It should be a surprise to everyone.”

  His hands grab onto my backside and he pulls me in closer to him. My chest squashes against his and his erection squeezes in between our stomachs.

  I can’t help but rock myself against him with my selfish, sluttish hips.

  23

  Cate

  Tuesday rolls into Wednesday and before I know what’s happening, we’re hurtling towards Thursday evening. I’ve been so busy at work I’ve not had much chance to plan the biggest change in my life. Although I’m wondering whether I’m putting it off with the excuse of being run ragged at work.

  A real estate agent contacted me on Tuesday morning and came up with several rental options in Oregon. They even cut and paste relevant paragraphs on schools in the area. I’ve not looked at them.

  I also received tickets in the post from an online travel agent, for a week at Disneyland. One adult, one child. Putting two and two together I’m guessing it’s what I’m supposed to tell everyone. I’m taking Hope to Disney next Wednesday for a week.

  The lies. The deceit. I can’t do this.

  And I’ve still not worked out how I will stop Hope from telling my parents about Isaac, or what I’ll say to them if she does.

  I’m planning to see him on Friday, the night before the big fight, and the last opportunity we have to iron out any issues before we leave San Diego.

  A desire grows in my mind to talk this through with someone other than Isaac. Someone who has my back. Elliot is more and more dismissive and there is no-one else other than Jaz.

  So, Friday evening, Hope will go to Mom’s, as usual, I’ll go out with Jaz, as usual, and then I’ll deal with whatever the fallout is. As usual.

  ◆◆◆

  I’m already waiting outside when the Friday night cab pulls into the street. I purposely stand away from my house so Jaz doesn’t see the car parked on my driveway. I need to tell her about Isaac before the car, otherwise the revelations will be out of order.

  “Do you fancy Almo’s again?” Jaz asks as I duck into the back seat.

  “Yeah, as long as we can find a quiet spot. Somewhere to chat.”

  “Oh?” Her brows knit together while her mind works on my answer. “That sounds ominous.”

  I can’t lie. “Yeah. It is.”

  She glances over at the cab driver. “Come on Cate. You can’t make me wait.” Fumbling in her bag and pulling out a small bottle of vodka.

  I huff and blurt out. “Isaac’s back.”

  Her shoulders slump and she positions the vodka bottle between her thighs while she zips her bag closed. “Oh, Lordy.”

  “He came back a few months ago, under an alias.” I pause, searching her face for signs of disgust, or joy, or anything else which might give me a clue how she feels about my revelation. “And I’ve met with him.” Again, no response I can pin a label to.

  “Okayyy,” she drawls. “And how did it go?”

  “Intense,” I say, not knowing where to begin and with the realization I’ve stepped over the line. The line I promised Isaac I wouldn’t breach. But I can’t think straight on my own. When I’m with him it’s fine. When I’m not, my fears take a hold of my throat and choke me into disbelief I’m making the right choice.

  She takes a large swig from the vodka bottle before passing it over to me.

  I hold up my hand. “Can’t. UTI.”

  Vodka sprays from her mouth and I reach in my purse for a tissue to help her mop the spillage, frantically trying to explain my excuse, because that’s all it is. “Nothing to do with Isaac. I’ve simply picked one up. Stress or some such shit. I’m taking antibiotics,” I garble the lie.

  Seriously, I don’t know where the excuse came from but I need to stay sober so I can drive to Isaac’s and have a clear-headed discussion, with hopefully a ton of insightful advice from my best friend.

  The cab driver turns his head to look over his shoulder. “We’re here ladies.” His expression shows he’s more than a little embarrassed, having caught the end of our conversation.

  “Oh, okay.” Jaz thrusts ten dollars into his hands. “Keep the change.”

  I notice his bemused look as we exit he car. The fare was shy of ten dollars so no real tip left there.

  Jaz holds open the door for me. “You find somewhere quiet so we can talk and I’ll grab the drinks.”

  “Shirley Temple for me please,” I shout after her.

  She holds up her hand, as she trots off to the bar.

  It’s early evening and there’s a choice of booths at the top end. I steer through the drinkers stood around and march over the checkered floor tiles to a spare booth. Stepping up into it, I shuffle along the padded seat, move the last occupants’ dirty glasses to the edge of the table, and glance around the room at the other patrons.

  Bored with people-watching, I pick out my phone and scroll through social media, before having an idea to look up Isaac. There’s nothing. He didn’t have a profile before he was imprisoned and hasn’t felt the need to set anything up since. The only imprint I find is a promo for the fight at the San Diego Arena. I’m lost in the world of his strength and masculinity when Jazz plonks down an ice bucket along with a bottle of white wine, two glasses, and my cherry-topped cocktail.

  “I brought a seco
nd glass, in case you change your mind.” She slides into the booth next to me. “What are you looking at?“

  I pause for a second before showing her the image.

  She glances at the phone. “Hot damn.” Then steadies the base of one of the stemmed wine glasses and starts to fill it. “You sure you don’t want wine? I got two glasses?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Why are you ogling over MMA fighters, anyway?” She stops pouring wine and cocks a brow.

  “It’s Isaac.” Boring my eyes into her, waiting for a reaction.

  Her shoulders shake with amusement and she resumes pouring the wine. Then suddenly she stops mid-laugh, places the bottle in the bucket and fixes her stare on me.

  “You serious? Isaac?” Her mouth remaining open as if she’s lost the ability to control it.

  With a straight face, I nod. She grabs the phone from me, pinches her finger and thumb on the screen and shakes her head at the same time. “No. Way.”

  “Yes. Way.”

  In my peripheral vision I spot Elliot strutting towards us so I grab the phone back.

  “Hey Chicas.” He slides in next to me. “You all good for drinks here?”

  “Yes, but you can share this wine if you like. Cate here’s got a UTI.”

  Elliot’s chuckle starts off low in his throat but when Jaz joins in, it becomes an uncontrollable giggle.

  “Okay, okay guys. It’s not funny.”

  Elliot takes one look at the stack of dirty glasses at the edge of the table and stands, picks them up in a skilled manner and walks off toward the bar with them. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist tidying. It’s what he does every time he comes around to my house. And it gives me an extra few seconds alone with Jaz.

  Quickly, I grab the opportunity. “Yes, it’s Isaac.”

  “Jeez. I’ll have to ask Papa if he knows him.”

  I gulp. “Shit. I’d forgotten your dad is a trainer. No, please don’t mention it to him. Isaac doesn’t want anyone to know he’s back.”