Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

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Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection) Page 10

by Amiee Louise


  He smiles and gently moves my hand from his crotch. To soothe the rejection, he lifts my hand to his lips and plants a kiss on the back.

  “You’re all I’m going to be thinking about when I’m up on that stage, counting down the minutes and the seconds until I can be inside you,” he whispers in his familiar husky voice, and I feel the ache between my legs. I’m not sure whether I am in the presence of Sam or Bolt. I feel his phone vibrate against my thigh.

  “Shit.”

  I laugh, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

  “Babe, I need to go, J.D’s called an emergency pre-show meeting.” He rolls his eyes and smiles. A young woman passes us in the corridor and Sam whistles.

  “Hey, Willow, would you mind looking after Peyton for me please, babe?”

  She smiles warmly, and I instantly like her.

  “Yeah, sure, bro, no problem, but it’s going to cost ya!”

  He laughs and pulls her in for a big bear hug.

  “Cheeky! Thanks, sis, I owe you.”

  Pulling away from Willow, he winks at me and whispers, “Keep thinking those thoughts.”

  He kisses me on lips before he runs off down the corridor leaving me with Willow. She is average height, slim with black hair short on the one side and long on the other. She has Sam’s green eyes and a warm smile. She is wearing a tight red t-shirt that says ‘I’m with the band’ on the front, denim skirt, and knee-high Doc Martens—a girl after my own heart.

  She offers me her hand. “I’m Willow, Sam’s little sister.”

  “Peyton”

  We smile at each other infectiously.

  “So, are you Sam’s new girlfriend?” she asks, and I nod.

  A nervous laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside of me. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “Great! Come on, we can go and watch the show together,” she says brightly, linking her arm with mine and dragging me down the corridor. We both flash our backstage passes to the waiting security guard, get into the concert venue, and wade through the crowd and to the front row at the side of the stage.

  “So, how long have you and Sam been together?”

  I pause. “We only met yesterday.”

  She nods inquisitively. “OK, where did you meet?”

  “At the tattoo shop where I work, I’m a tattoo artist.”

  Her face lights up. “Oh, my God, that’s so cool.”

  “Thanks, I think so. I work at Saint Sinner Ink.”

  Her eyes widen. “Oh, my fucking God. You work for Seb Henry? I love that guy, that tattoo show he did was amazing.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Seb did a reality tattoo show on one of the cable channels a few years ago. It got the shop a lot of publicity, recognition for his work, and a lot of custom for the shop. Because of that, the shop is booked up months in advance, and we work by appointment only. Seb is quite a celebrity in his own right.

  “I’ll tell him you’re a fan and get him to sign something for you. I’m sure you’ll make his day.” I smile, and her mouth drops open.

  “Really? Wow, that would be so awesome!” she says excitedly, and I instantly like her. Her inquisitiveness and childlike excitement makes me feel on a high. After the support band, The Devil’s Henchmen, the lights go down, and a drumbeat fills the arena. The stage is in darkness and Sam’s husky singing voice comes through the speakers. Ruby was right; I could definitely orgasm by just listening to him sing. His voice is like honey filling my ears and the crowd singing the lyrics back to him. Jax’s guitar riffs accompany Sam’s voice and Lucas’ pounding drum beat. He steps out of the darkness, and the lights on stage come up. He is standing on the stage with the microphone in his hand and his eyes closed. I am in awe of his stage presence; he looks almost God-like. He comes out to the front of the stage and looks out into the crowd. A genuine wide grin comes across his face.

  “How are we doing tonight, London?”

  The crowd goes wild, and he goes back to singing Unspoken Conversations, a song I have heard Ruby singing in the shower countless times. His voice melts me inside. It is at that moment that I think that he is so passionate about his music and he is so enigmatic, full of energy and charisma when he is on stage performing. Yet, when we’re alone, he is so full of self-doubt and a need to be reassured. It is like being in a relationship with two completely different people—Sam and Bolt. I’m starting to doubt whether I can actually do this at all. My self-doubt starts to creep in, and every part of me is telling me to run screaming for the hills in the opposite direction, the sane part, anyway. The other part, the part that craves all-consuming love and affection is driving me forward. I look up, and his eyes lock with mine. He crouches down on the edge of the stage and sings his lyrics to me. It is as if it is just him and me in the room, my own personal serenade. Soon, the song finishes, and Sam puts his microphone on the stand.

  “How the fuck are we doing tonight then, London? It’s so good to be back home. We’re Rancid Vengeance, and tonight we’re going to fucking rock this place to the ground!”

  He looks so comfortable up on the stage. Performing must be like second nature to him—he is a true showman.

  “Let me see those fucking hands in the air. I need to hear you scream for me, London!”

  The crowd goes wild—cheering, screaming, and stomping their feet.

  “Give me a bit of ‘Lullaby’, boys. Let’s rock this shit!”

  Jax’s solo guitar riff on his custom Schechter black guitar with electric blue stars fills the venue; I can understand why his stage name is Flash with the way his fingers effortlessly dance up and down the fretboard. It is fascinating to watch. I’m hooked and can’t tear my eyes away from the stage. Next to me, Willow is singing the lyrics at the top of her voice, and her excitement is infectious. I am bouncing up and down to the beat and cheering along with her.

  After the gig finishes with a light show and expensive pyrotechnics, Willow is whisking me backstage. She runs down the corridor, and I follow her. I see Sam, and he even looks sexy covered in sweat. His face lights up as he sees me. Taking off his earpiece, he hands it to a passing stagehand. He has a black towel with the band’s skull logo stitched on it around his neck, and with it, he wipes the sweat from his face and takes a long pull on the bottle of water he is holding. He comes towards me and scoops me up in his arms.

  “Hey, babe.”

  I smile and shriek as he lifts me off the floor. He smells so good—even if he is covered in sweat—of his signature Joop aftershave, mint, and the scent of pure Sam Newbolt.

  “You were amazing.”

  “Glad you liked it. Look, we’ve got to do some press interviews and some meet and greets with some competition winners before I can leave, but you’re more than welcome to hang around and wait, babe.”

  I smile and whisper in his ear, “I’ll go home and wait for you, babe. I’ll be the naked one in my bed!” I wink seductively and bite his ear. He growls from deep within his throat.

  “You horny little bitch!”

  We both laugh, and he sets me down on the floor.

  “I’ll be as quick as I can, babe. I promise.”

  He kisses me on the lips and Willow shoves him.

  “Oh, please! Put her down!”

  She rolls her eyes dramatically, and we all laugh.

  “I’ll see you later then, gorgeous?” I wink, and he smiles that sexy, signature grin.

  “Later,” he mouths, and a man talking into a headset is whisking him off down the corridor.

  “I’m going to head home, Willow.”

  She nods. “OK, it was really nice to meet you, Peyton. I don’t usually like Sam’s choice of girlfriends, but I like you. We could be friends, and we should meet up for lunch or something soon? I can fill you in on all the dirt about my big brother!”

  I laugh, flattered by her words. “Yeah, that would be really great.”

  She claps her hands excitedly. “Can I get your number?”

  I recite my mobile number to her, and
she punches it into her phone. She holds it up to her ear, and my phone vibrates in my pocket.

  “There, now you have my number too. No excuses not to call or text me!” I save her number and store it in my phone. She throws her arms around me and hugs me, promising to meet up soon.

  “It was so nice to have met you, Willow.”

  She pulls away and skips off down the corridor. I go off in the opposite direction and head out of the venue. The cool air on my face is a welcome contrast from the stuffy heat inside the venue. I walk to my car, unlock it, and drive home.

  Half an hour later, after stopping off to grab something to eat, I open the door to the flat, and Ruby is on the sofa crying. My face is full of concern as I drop my bag at the door and rush over to her.

  “Hey, Rubes, what’s wrong, babe?”

  I throw my arms around her and comfort her. She sobs harder.

  “Hey, come on, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Broken nails and spilt wine definitely do not warrant tears!” I try to joke, but she doesn’t laugh. “Rubes, talk to me, babe.”

  I run my hand up her back. She looks up at me with wide, sad, and scared eyes.

  “I-I-I’m pregnant, Peyton,” she chokes out. I am stunned into silence by her admission, so I rub her back—it’s the only thing I can do.

  “Before you even ask, I’m getting rid of it. I can’t have a baby, Peyton. I can’t, I just fucking can’t,” she sobs. “Don’t you dare judge me, babe. Please. I couldn’t stand it if you did.”

  Forcing her to look at me, I lock my eyes with hers. “I’d never judge you, Ruby. I love you, you silly tart!”

  She laughs through her tears. “Isaac-fucking-Carter. Of all the men in the world, it had to be him. We’ve always been careful, and I don’t understand how it could have happened.” She shakes her head.

  “You’re not thinking straight at the moment, babe. Please don’t rush into something you might regret.”

  She looks at me as if she wants to strangle me. “Can you really imagine me with a fucking baby, Peyton? Come on. I’m selfish, and I love my lie-in’s. Me getting up to feed a screaming brat in the middle the night … It’s not going to happen, my mind’s made up.” Her voice is filled with determination, and I pause.

  “Does Isaac know?”

  She laughs sarcastically. “Of course he doesn’t fucking know. He would frog march me straight to the abortion clinic himself. He has made it clear that I’m nothing more to him than just a fling. He is married already, he is not going to leave his wife of twenty years, and he is definitely not going to be proposing marriage when he finds out he is going to be a daddy. This isn’t the movies, babe; girls like me don’t get the happy ever after.”

  She sighs and bursts into tears again. I hold her in my arms and comfort her. I hate seeing my best friend in a state like this over a man. It’s not just a man, though. This time, she is pregnant. My best friend is pregnant—a word I would never associate with Ruby. She has always said she never wanted kids, ever. Period. I have to be there for her like she was there for me when I was in pieces over Callum, and she was there when I lost our baby. I owe her. She is my best friend, she is like a sister to me, and she has been there when no one else was. As I’m rubbing her back and comforting her, I vow I’ll stand by her and be there for her, as best friends should be.

  11

  Peyton

  I spend a few hours comforting Ruby and reassuring her that everything is going to be OK. She falls asleep on the sofa, and I cover her with a blanket. I grab my phone from the coffee table, walking quietly across the flat and into the bathroom. I brush my teeth, wash off my makeup, and walk into my bedroom. I change into my pyjamas, lie down on my bed, and turn on my lamp. I still haven’t heard from Sam, so I pick up my phone and send him a quick text.

  Hey babe

  You were amazing tonight

  I’m in bed naked and waiting for you ;)

  P x

  As soon as I have sent the text, my phone starts ringing.

  “Hey, babe, I’m so sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner. We did a bunch of meet and greets with some fans, and then I got dragged to an after-show party with the boys.”

  I hear loud pumping music and voices in the background. He sounds more than a little drunk and my shoulders slump.

  “It’s OK.”

  He sighs on the end of the phone.

  “Babe, I’m so fucking sorry. You know, I could still come over, my cock is still rock hard for you. I’m so horny right now, and you did say you were in bed naked and waiting for me.” His voice drips seduction, and I laugh.

  “It’s OK, honestly. I’ll see you tomorrow, and something came up anyway. Ruby had a crisis, and she needed me.”

  “OK, babe, I’ll come by the shop tomorrow. I’ll take you for lunch and make it up to you then I promise.”

  I smile to myself. “OK, I’ll look forward to it.”

  I hear voices in the background and the phone crackles.

  “Peyton! It’s Jax, hey, I don’t know what you’ve done to our boy Sammy, but he is love struck!”

  Jax laughs hysterically, and I laugh at his drunken words.

  “It’s good to know, honey!”

  “Listen, I’m fucking in love with Ruby. You need to get her to call me, and I need to see her,” he slurs, and I pause, not knowing how to react to Jax’s revelation.

  “I’ll tell her, Jax.”

  He laughs again, and I hear Sam shout, “I’m sorry about that, Jax is wasted.”

  “So are you by the sound of it!”

  We both laugh.

  “It’s to numb the pain of not being with you, baby, you’re amazing.”

  “You’re such a smooth talker!”

  “True story, baby. Look, I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, bye.”

  He hangs up abruptly before I get to say goodbye. After I get off the phone, I get ready for bed and soon fall into a deep sleep.

  The next morning my phone ringing rudely awakes me. I open my eyes sleepily and look at the clock: it has just gone seven AM. I moan and pick up the phone without looking who it is that is calling.

  “Hello, this better be good. Do you know what time it is?” I say groggily.

  “Peyton Leigh Harper, since when have you been going out with a rock star?” my mum’s shrill voice comes through the phone.

  “What? Mum, what are you talking about? Who told—”

  She cuts me off, “It’s all over the newspapers and the internet, your picture is all over the front page,” she snaps. I’m instantly alert and bolt upright.

  “Mum, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You woke me up.”

  She sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I don’t like finding out news about you second-hand. You know I’d rather hear it from you.”

  I rub the sleep from my eyes before I say, “I know, Mum, I’m sorry. Look, I need to see for myself, and I promise I’ll call you right back.”

  “OK, sweetie, love you.”

  “Love you too, Mum, bye.”

  I hang up the phone and jump out of bed. I run through the flat barefoot and Ruby is sitting at the breakfast counter in the kitchen sipping coffee while playing on her iPad. I stand in front of her with my arms folded. She shakes her head and narrows her eyes at me over her glasses, making me feel like I’m back in school.

  “Well, tut, tut Miss Peyton, haven’t we been a naughty girl?” She laughs and pushes her glasses further up her nose.

  “My mum just called. Apparently, Sam and I are all over the newspaper.”

  She sips her coffee. “See for yourself, babe,” she says as she pushes her iPad towards me.

  “More than meets the ink, that’s fucking original,” I say sarcastically and roll my eyes, silently seething. I read on aloud.

  “Lead singer of Rancid Vengeance, Samson Newbolt, was spotted in a steamy clinch with tattoo artist, Peyton Harper, daughter of 1970’s pin-up Sophia Bailey and fashion photographer Max Harper. The pair were spotted back
stage at the band’s London gig last night. Newbolt has been linked to a string of famous women in the past, but sources close to the pair say, ‘She is the one’. Newbolt is said to be ‘love struck and very much smitten’ with the pint-sized, inked seductress. The pair met when Harper tattooed Newbolt and his bandmates at the London tattoo studio where she works for celebrity tattoo artist Seb Henry. Is this the girl who can finally tame the wild boy of rock? We hear the sound of wedding bells, breaking the hearts of thousands of Rancid Vengeance female fans!”

 

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