Lost, Found, Loved

by London Casey

  “I know. I didn’t know what I was thinking.” I laughed. “Fucking women, man.”

  Gonzo didn’t say a word.

  I felt like a bigger ass making that comment, considering Gonzo lost his wife.

  “Well, if she matters, things will work themselves out,” he said. “That’s all I can tell you. Hiding things isn’t the way to go about business.”

  “I got you, Gonzo,” I said. “You know me well enough by now. I’m just cruising along, and sometimes I hit a bump and I just get all messed up by it.”

  “Yeah,” Gonzo said. “What’d you tell about her car?”

  “More than she should have known,” I said.

  “So, she’s pissed at you.”

  “Pissed and gone.”

  “Gone?”

  “Back home,” I said. “Long story. She’s not from around here. I never met her before.”

  “Oh?” Gonzo asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s interesting.”

  “Very,” I said. “I thought there was something happening. It was stupid of me. I let things get out of control.”

  I said it as I felt the engagement ring in my pocket. The fucking ring I gave to Steph that she gave back. The fucking ring I gave to Bella, thinking she would understand what I wanted to do. It wasn’t about jealousy or screwing Steph on her wedding day. It was about…what?

  “I’m going to head over to St. Skin,” I said. “Just…give me a bill for this, alright? For your time. And for being pissed off at me.”

  Gonzo laughed. “I’ll send you something in the mail. Now get out of here. You’re distracting me.”

  I left the garage and looked over to the empty passenger seat of my truck.

  I sighed as I drove to the shop.

  It was all going to linger with Bella now. Everywhere I looked. Being in my apartment. The smell of her soap, shampoo, her skin, it would fade with time. The sheets on the spare bed were still messy from her sleeping.

  When I got to the shop, Tate was out back on his phone. He ended the call and looked at me, an eyebrow high in the air.

  “You look like shit today,” he said.

  “Thanks for that,” I said.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Long night?”

  “Longer morning,” I said.

  “Your house guest treating you well?”

  “She’s gone, Tate,” I said.

  “Love…it’s a bitch.”

  “It wasn’t love. Trust me.”

  “Just an extended weekend fling, huh?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Let’s leave it at that.”

  I took a step toward the back door and Tate stuck a hand out. “What the fuck are you doing here, Z?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re stuck in between lives,” Tate said. “I keep nudging at you to stay here, but you’re dead set on Miami. Why? You want to hide? You want to get lost in women?”

  “Is that really your business, Tate?”

  “Probably not. But as a friend, I’m here for you.”

  “You’re my boss.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m everyone else’s boss. I’m letting you tattoo here. You’re spotting a split of what you bring in. I did this as a favor for you.”

  “Pity, huh?”

  “No. You’re good at what you do. And I know someone cut your fucking heart out. I heard about it all, Z. I never brought it up because I figured someday you’d tell me. That shit is cold what happened. I’m sorry she did that.”

  “Really, Tate? I don’t want to talk about this shit.”

  “She’s getting married, huh?”

  “How the fuck…”

  Tate grinned. “I know everyone and everything, Z. If you ever need to talk about that bullshit, you let me know.”

  “I’m good.”

  “So that means you’re staying here then?” he asked with a grin.

  “That means I’m going to go inside and do my fucking job.”

  Inside, I heard the music of everyone’s room carrying through the shop. The front had its neon lights, a few people looking around at the walls, two people sitting, flipping through the large books of tattoos.

  This place was home to me. The only place I felt comfortable and alive in.

  But there was a huge problem. That came a minute later when I went into my room and looked at the leather chair.

  That’s where Bella had been when I inked her up. The way her body shuddered when I touched her. The feel of her soft skin. The sound of the needle buzzing. And then the look of the tattoo. The butterfly was perfect for her. Even though she fucking took off on me.

  I was more like a lone wolf.

  A wolf and a butterfly.

  How the fuck did that work?

  I grabbed my chair and sat down. I hooked my cell phone up to the speakers in my room and put on my own music. Then I grabbed a pencil, some paper, and went to work. It wasn’t fucking surprising what I decided to draw.

  A wolf standing on a ridge, a pale moon as the backdrop. The wolf was as dark as the rocks it stood on. It had yellow eyes, yellow as the sun. Eyes that represented life. Life that existed within a beast. The wolf had his head back as though it were going to howl at the moon. Only it wasn’t. Right there on the tip of the wolf’s nose was a butterfly. The same butterfly I had tattooed on Bella.

  When I finished the rough sketch, I didn’t stop there. I kept going. I got lost in time. I got lost in the drawing. I was so taken in by it that I swore I was in the woods with the wolf on a cool, damp night. The moon was so bright, but only bright enough to cast some light and shadows. But the butterfly had its own light, as if it were glowing from within.

  The only reason I stopped was because Cass knocked on the door and came into the room.

  “Cass,” I said. “What’s happening?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Taking a breather. Busy day for me. Two down and two to go. There’s a few walkins up there looking for work. If you have some time, it’s easy cash.”

  I nodded. “I’ll go talk to them. As long as it’s not bullshit from a book.”

  Cass smiled. “Artists are so picky.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Hey, Diem was asking about your girl.”

  “My girl? I don’t have a girl. Woman. Whatever. Not me, man.”

  “What about…”

  “She was just passing through.”

  “Oh. Right. Damn. Okay.” Cass pointed at my desk. “What are you working on?”

  “Check it out,” I said. I threw him the notebook. “That would look like a cool poster or something, huh?”

  “Shit,” Cass said. “This is amazing. Really fucking amazing. This isn’t a poster, man. This is a tattoo.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep it until I find the right person.”

  Cass walked to me and handed me the notebook. “No. This one is yours.”

  “What?”

  “For yourself.”

  “For me? No. I’ve never drawn one of my own tattoos. That feels weird to me, Cass.”

  “This is really good. This is what you’re feeling right now for whatever reason. Roll with it.”

  “What am I going to do, tattoo myself?”

  Cass laughed. “No. I’ll do it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, man. It’d look good on your chest.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “Don’t show that to anyone else,” Cass said. “Don’t let anyone steal that idea from you either. That’s your ink, Zayne.”

  Cass squeezed my shoulder and left the room. He left the door open, too, a reminder that paying customers were out there waiting to be helped.

  I stared at the drawing again.

  It wasn’t a tattoo. It was a picture of me and Bella.

  Maybe it would look good on me. But there was no way in hell I wanted a reminder of what happened on my body for the rest of my
life.

  I closed the notebook and stood up. It was time to focus and tattoo some people.

  I approached a woman who was looking around the front of St. Skin. I asked her what she was thinking about. She had no idea what she wanted. Well, she had plenty of ideas, but nothing that made real sense.

  Then again, I wasn’t really paying that much attention to her.

  I kept looking out the front window.

  I wasn’t a fucking wolf…I was a puppy dog. A lost, sad puppy dog.

  Shit—I missed Bella.

  18

  BELLA

  It was a total walk of shame.

  I stared at the apartment building for what felt like a lifetime.

  I was actually back here. Back home.

  For now.

  I needed a plan, and I needed it soon.

  At the door, I stuck my key into the lock and it still worked. The door opened, and it all looked the same. It had the same smell, too. A hint of lemon clean, some air fresheners that were plugged into a few outlets, and the mix of what everyone around us had cooked.

  I put my bags on the table. I was not going to unpack them and stay.

  “No way,” I whispered.

  Then came the moment I looked down the hallway and saw the bedroom.

  My heart sank.

  My mouth went dry.

  It was all too familiar to me.

  Walking to that door, slowly. Thinking I was going to surprise Parker by being home early. Only to end up finding him on top of Abby. Thrusting. Grunting. Abby’s groans, breathless, her hands grabbing the sheets, then his back.

  My bottom lip quivered as I reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

  I flicked on the light, and there was nothing out of place. The same bed. The same covers. The nightstands. The lights. Everything was exactly the same. It was as if nothing had happened. As though Parker and Abby hadn’t stabbed me in the back. As though I hadn’t taken off.

  I entered the bedroom and went to the bed. I put my hand down to the pillow. There were four pillows on the bed. One of those four pillows were the one Abby had her head rested on while Parker fucked her.

  My hand shook as I spread it across the covers.

  This was a disaster. Everything was a disaster.

  And it only got worse a few seconds later.

  The door to the apartment opened and slammed shut.

  “Bella,” Parker said as he stood there. He had a leather bag over his shoulder and a stainless steel coffee container in his left hand. “What…? You’re back. You’re here. It’s…good to see you,” he said, uncertain.

  I nodded. “I’m here.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad you came back.”

  Parker put his bag down and walked the coffee container to the kitchen and put it down.

  “Do you want something to drink?”

  “I live here, remember?” I asked.

  “Right. Of course. Sorry. I didn’t…I mean, I didn’t know you were coming back.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “So, can we actually talk for a minute?”

  “I don’t know, Parker,” I said.

  He sighed and lowered his head. “Okay. I just have a lot to get off my chest.”

  “So do I,” I said.

  “First things first—I missed you,” Parker said. He stared at me. “I walked around this apartment trying-”

  “When was the last time you saw her?” I asked.

  “What? Who?”

  “Abby.”

  Parker swallowed hard. He put a hand out. “Bella, please let me explain everything.”

  “You did that before. You blamed me. It was my fault. Because I gave up my dream for you. Because I worked at a diner. Because I didn’t smell good coming from work. Because I was tired. Right? That gave you the opening to find a reason to sleep with my best friend.”

  Parker just stood there, taking it. And he should have stood there and took it.

  But at that moment, that was all I had to say.

  “I shouldn’t have implied what I did,” Parker said. “I was mad. At myself. Mad that things got out of hand between us, Bella. You and I could both agree it wasn’t easy.”

  “No, it wasn’t. But while I was on my hands and knees scrapping gum off the bottom of a table at a diner, you had my best friend on her hands and knees, behind her…”

  “Okay,” Parker snapped. “Dammit, okay. I get it.”

  “Right. You get it. That’s all I can see, Parker. This apartment…”

  “We’ll get a new one,” he said. “To hell with this place then.”

  I laughed. “It’s that simple, huh?”

  “It could be. If you let it.”

  “If I just forget what happened? Never talk to my best friend again?”

  “She wants to talk to you,” Parker said. “She’s upset too.”

  I felt my lip curl. “Oh? She wants to talk to me? She told you that? Were you naked when she said that?”

  “Christ,” Parker said. “No. Nobody was…you know what? Fuck it. I saw her just yesterday. I called to ask her if she heard from you. She said no. We met for a cup of coffee to talk about what happened. I know you’re the one hurt in all of this, but it also counts for me and Abby. Because if you think we wanted that…”

  “Right. We’re all victims here,” I said sarcastically.

  “I’ll do whatever you need me to do here,” Parker said.

  “Right now, I need a shower,” I said. “I need to just wash…everything away.”

  “Bella, where were you?” Parker asked.

  I grinned. “That’s my business, not yours.”

  It felt good to be defiant as I grabbed a bag and walked away.

  I went into the bathroom and looked around. My mind wondered if they…in the shower…

  I grabbed the sink and shut my eyes.

  No, Bella. No. You’re not going to do that.

  I took a deep breath and calmed myself.

  I needed the shower. I needed to wash the smell of everything Zayne off me. His touch to my wrist, face, anywhere else. The smell of his apartment, his truck. Just him in general. I needed it all gone.

  Then I could focus on what to do next.

  I turned on the water and let it get warm while I undressed. I left my clothes in a nice pile in the middle of the bathroom floor. Parker hated when I did it. He told me I didn’t need to live like I was in college.

  I threw the clothes the middle finger and then lifted that middle finger to the door.

  I looked down at the bandage on my hip.

  Shit. I have a tattoo now.

  I peeled the tape away with a painful groan. The tattoo looked amazing, though. It was bright and still slimy from the ointment Zayne had put on it. Of course, I didn’t know the first thing about taking care of a tattoo. And since Zayne wasn’t around, I’d have to do a little research on my phone to make sure I didn’t ruin the tattoo or end up with an infection.

  There was a knock at the door. “Bella? You okay?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “I’m coming in.”

  “Parker, no.”

  The doorknob turned.

  I spun and grabbed a towel, barely getting it around my body before he poked his head into the bathroom.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped.

  “You sounded like you were in pain. I…”

  “You what? You think I came back here to, what? Hurt myself?”

  “I was just asking…” His eyes went to the sink. To the large bandage. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Is that blood? Did you get hurt? What happened?”

  Now Parker was in the bathroom. Standing there like it was normal and okay.

  Not that long ago it would have been normal and okay. So normal and okay that I would have dropped the towel and let him join me in the shower. Now, he just felt like a creepy stranger.

  “Nothing happened to me,” I said. “Will y
ou please get out of here?”

  “Not a chance,” Parker said. “I want to know what that’s for. It’s got blood on it. And it looks like…”

  I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. “You know what, Parker? Fine.”

  I had the towel tight around my body but I peeled it open just enough to show off my hip. For a moment I actually felt sexy. Like I was going to have something Parker wanted but wouldn’t get. I showed just enough skin so he could see my new tattoo.

  “Is that…”

  “A tattoo,” I said. “Yeah.”

  “You got a tattoo?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A butterfly.”

  “That’s what it looks like, right?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “No.”

  “Tell me that rubs off.”

  “It’s a real tattoo, Parker,” I said.

  “So what, you took off and let someone tattoo you. Was it a guy?”

  “What?”

  “Was it a guy that tattooed you?”

  “Why would that matter?”

  “It fucking does,” Parker said. He grabbed a fistful of his hair. “So that’s what you do? Here I thought maybe you were out soul-searching. But no, not you. You can’t soul-search. You have to go from one fucked-up thing to the next. So you ended up at a tattoo place, huh? And you decided to get a butterfly on your hip. How far down were your pants, Bella?”

  My lip curled. Suddenly, I had Zayne’s voice in my head. Telling me I was worth more. Telling me I was beautiful. Telling me I deserved better.

  “How far were my pants down? Not as far as yours were when you were screwing Abby in our bed.”

  Parker laughed. That dumb prick laughed. Right in my face.

  “So that’s what you’re going to do to me now? Just keep throwing that at me? And you…”

  Parker shook his head.

  “What? What do you have to say?” I asked.

  “You know what? Nothing. I hope you got what you wanted, Bella. I really do.”

  Parker showed his hands and then left the bathroom.

  I was quick then to lock the door. And I dropped the towel. I looked down at the tattoo. I bit my lip.

  I didn’t regret it.

  I would never regret it.

  Maybe the only thing I’d regret was walking away from Zayne.

  19

  ZAYNE

  I finished another tattoo.

  My door had been open for hours, and there was no end in sight.