Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

by Amiee Louise

  He looks at me and takes my hand in his. “Now look me in the eye and say it.”

  I look him straight in the eye and snatch my hand away, repeating my earlier statement.

  “I feel nothing for you, Callum. I don’t want to ever see you again. Is that clear enough for you?”

  He looks genuinely hurt by my admission, but after everything he has put me through, I want to draw a line under the whole Callum and me thing. I want to focus on my future with Sam.

  “OK, you’ll never have to see me again, Peyton, that’s a promise.”

  He turns to walk away.

  “Callum,” I call out.

  He turns back around and a whole year of pent-up anger towards him comes bubbling to the surface. I punch him hard in the face, catching him off-guard, and he stumbles backwards just as Seb rushes out from the back of the shop. I raise my fist to punch him again, but Seb holds me firmly back with his iron grip. My hand is stinging and sore, but I feel so much better. Callum’s nose is pouring with blood. Seb shields me from him.

  “I suggest you get the fuck out of my shop, and if I catch you within even a hundred feet of her again, I will fucking kill you,” Seb says, his voice dripping with menace. Callum holds his hand up in silent defeat, walks out of the shop, and continues off down the street.

  “Are you OK, babe? That was some punch! I’m going to start nicknaming you Rocky Balboa!” He laughs, and I join him. “Come on, I’ll wrap that hand for you, babe.”

  He takes me into the kitchen area at the back of the shop, runs my hand under the cold tap for me, then takes out a bandage and wraps my hand with it. There is a silent understanding between Seb and me, that says he has my back and he’ll always take care of me.

  “There you go, babe, just put some ice on it when you get home and if it gets worse, go to the hospital.”

  I nod. He smiles, and I kiss him on the cheek.

  “Thanks, Seb, I will do. You’re a diamond.”

  “See you tomorrow, honey.”

  He kisses me on the forehead, and I leave the shop to drive back to my flat. Parking the car, I go up the stairs, open the door and am greeted by the sound of low guttural groans as I step into the flat. I walk further in and kick off my shoes. I see Jax on the sofa with his arms spread out across the back, his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

  “Oh, fuck yeah, that’s it, baby, take me all the way.”

  I am shocked at what is unfolding in front of me. Ruby is on her knees in front of the sofa giving Jax a blowjob. Standing there with my mouth open, I don’t know what to do or where to put my face.

  “Ahem,” I clear my throat. Jax’s eyes fly open, and Ruby looks up with a mischievous grin on her face.

  “Jesus! Shit! Peyton! I didn’t—”

  “It’s OK, honestly,” I say with a laugh as I shake my head.

  Ruby stands up with her hands on her hips; she is wearing a black and red corset with matching black, French knickers, stockings, and suspenders with her long dark hair tumbling down her back.

  “Hey, babe, I didn’t realise you’d be home yet,” she says in her singsong voice that I have become accustomed to. I hang up my coat and throw my bag on the floor.

  “Clearly,” I say sarcastically. Jax zips up his trousers and stands up, trying desperately to hide his hard-on.

  “I’m so sorry, Peyton.”

  “It’s fine, really.” I smile, a little too brightly. I go into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine. Ruby follows me and starts speaking as if the incident from a few minutes ago never occurred.

  “Good day at work, babe?”

  I put my hand to my head. “Long story, Rubes.”

  She frowns and puts her hand on my shoulder. “What happened to your hand, babe?”

  I take my cup from the cupboard and put it down, then lower my voice so Jax doesn’t overhear us.

  “I hurt my hand punching Callum’s face.”

  Ruby laughs hysterically. “About fucking time someone wiped that stupid smug grin off his smarmy face.” She jumps up, sits on the worktop, and regards me intently. “Should you really be meeting Callum behind Sam’s back, though, babe? Sam’s good for you. It’s obvious that he is really into you and he treats you right. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time; don’t let that prick ruin it. I’m saying this as your best friend, Peyton.”

  I know she means well, and she is my best friend, but the pressures and dramas of the day surface. I suddenly feel intense anger and a deep bitter resentment towards her.

  “Look, Ruby. I really don’t need you to fucking judge me right now, especially after you aborted your baby,” I spit out angrily. She looks genuinely shocked and taken aback by my outburst.

  “Oh, OK, so that’s what this is all about, me getting rid of my baby because I’m not in a stable relationship because I’m not ready to settle down and be a mum? I’m sorry that’s fucking inconvenient for you, Peyton. I thought you were my best friend and best friends don’t judge each other”

  I look at her with fire in my eyes. “No, this is about you being a selfish fucking bitch and refusing to face up to your mistakes, refusing to take responsibility for your actions. I lost my baby, Ruby, and there’s you just getting rid of yours because it’s an inconvenience for you. I’d do anything to have my baby here with me right now.”

  A lone tear escapes my eye, and I wipe it away before she speaks again.

  “I can’t believe you just said that to me, Peyton, after everything we’ve been through together. You’re judging me just because I made the right decision, well fuck you.”

  She wipes tears from her eyes, gets down from the worktop, and storms off into her bedroom. Jax looks at me, and I shake my head as he follows her. I punch the cupboard door with my sore hand and relish in the pain that follows, wishing I had had time to go to the boxing gym after work. Suddenly, my phone starts ringing.

  “Hello,” I say wearily and instantly perk up when I hear Sam’s voice on the other side.

  “Hey, baby, are you back home? I dropped by the shop hoping I would catch you on the way home but Seb said you had just left.”

  “Yeah, I’m back at the flat, babe.”

  He pauses and clears his throat. “Cole’s outside your place.”

  I smile to myself and say, “OK, babe, I’ll get my stuff together, and I’ll see you in a while.”

  I hear the smile in Sam’s voice when he says, “I can’t wait, angel, see you soon.”

  “See you soon, honey.”

  I hang up the phone, go into my room, and throw a few things in my overnight bag. I slam the door of the flat more to let Ruby know I’m pissed off and run down the stairs. I am in such a bad mood and have the events of today going through my mind at a hundred miles an hour. Everything from the meeting with Callum and the argument with Ruby. The only redeeming quality of the day is seeing Sam.

  When I get out into the street, I see the weather has changed and is pouring with rain. I see Cole parked at the kerb, and before he can get out and soak himself to let me in, I open the door and climb in.

  “Hey, Cole.”

  He tips his hat and smiles in the interior mirror. I lean back heavily in the seat—I can’t wait to see Sam. Ten minutes pass, and we are pulling up outside the front of Sam’s building, which seems unusual for Cole as he normally pulls into the parking garage underneath the building. I open the door, step out, and go inside. The security guard at the black marble desk looks up as I step into the building; he smiles and nods as if in recognition. I smile back, push the button for the lift, and step in.

  The lift comes to a halt, and I step out into the foyer of Sam’s apartment. I walk over and knock on the wooden door; Sam comes to the door and opens it. His hair is perfectly mussed and spiky, he is barefoot, wearing loose ripped jeans and a white shirt with three buttons undone. He looks dazzling. I throw my arms around him, and his face lights up as he sees me and kisses me as if it’s the last kiss we’ll ever share.

  “I
’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day, baby.”

  My face lights up, and he narrows his eyes at me. He holds me an arm’s length away from him and regards me intently.

  “Something’s wrong, honey.”

  I take off my shoes and jacket and put my bag down on the edge of the sofa. Before I even look up, Sam is standing in front of me, his six-foot-four frame towering over me. He lifts my bandaged hand to his face and rubs his thumb over my knuckle. I wince in pain, and he clenches his jaw.

  “What happened to your hand, babe?”

  I put my other hand to my head and look up at him. “I … punched Callum.”

  His nostrils flare as his eyes widen in anger. “Has he hurt you? If he has harmed even a hair on your head, I swear to God I will fucking kill him.”

  I stroke his face to calm him. “He didn’t touch me, babe, honestly. Those boxing lessons were so worth it. He ended up worse, trust me—I think I broke his nose,” I say with a smirk.

  Sam smirks as well then goes into the kitchen to get us both a drink and an ice pack for my hand. He hands me a large, cold glass of wine, and the clean, crisp taste of the wine helps the dramas of the day melt away instantly. I flop down on the sofa, and we cuddle up. He strokes my hand.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t call, baby, today has been so hectic at the studio. I tried to make lunch, but I haven’t had a spare five minutes all day, and I called as soon as I could.”

  I shake my head. “It’s OK. I know you’re busy; I don’t expect you to drop everything just for me. Today has been the day from hell, I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  He takes a long sip of his wine, and a look of concern mars his handsome features. He looks so relaxed and … hot.

  “Is everything OK? Do you want to tell me about it, honey?”

  I take a deep breath. “I had a row with Ruby, and I bumped into Callum again. I was going to lunch, and we bumped into each other on the street near the shop. He practically rail-roaded me into having coffee with him, he said he needed to explain why he did what he did to me. He started spouting off some bullshit how he was terrified that I was pregnant and how he wasn’t ready to be a dad. He was trying to make out like he was the victim.”

  Sam’s mouth drops open. “That guy is un-fucking-believable.”

  “So you’re not mad that I went for coffee with my ex?”

  He laughs. “’Course not, baby. Like I said in that note, everyone is entitled to a past.”

  I brush his arm and kiss him gently on the lips at his thoughtfulness and understanding.

  “We had coffee, he talked, and I had a go at him, I practically ran back to the shop in tears because of him. He showed up when the shop had closed saying he still loved me and then I punched him in the face.”

  Sam narrows his eyes. “I said if he ever made you cry or feel like that ever again I’d kill him. He can’t keep getting inside your head like that, babe, and he has no fucking right,” he spits out angrily. His hand reaches out to stroke my chin. “He doesn’t see how fragile you are. You put on the confident, bubbly, tough girl act like you did when we met, but I can see right through it. You’re vulnerable, funny, intelligent, and incredibly beautiful. I’m one lucky motherfucker!”

  I giggle shyly and place my hand over his. “All I kept thinking when I was with Cal today was why couldn’t I have met you first?”

  He smiles. “I would have romanced you properly: hearts, flowers, bedroom window serenades, the whole nine yards!” Laughing, he becomes serious once more. “What exactly did he say to you? It must have been bad for you to punch him, babe.”

  My smile fades. “He kept apologising for what he did, spinning me the same old Kennedy bullshit. He must get it from his dad.”

  Sam strokes my face with the back of his hand soothingly. “I’m nothing like him; I need you to believe that, angel. I need you to trust me. I’d never hurt you like that ever.”

  I look into his eyes and know by the look in his eyes that he is being sincere. I know I can trust Sam one hundred percent—he is the total opposite of Callum.

  “I was an absolute mess when I lost our baby, and I needed him. He abandoned me when I needed him the most, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him for that. No matter how hard I try, and no matter how many times he says sorry, I wasted three fucking years on him.” I avert my gaze to the floor.

  “Do you want to talk about it? I’d totally understand if you didn’t want to tell me all the sordid details, but I’m here for you, angel.”

  I smile, and something inside me says that maybe I need to talk about it with Sam in order to move on with my life.

  17

  Peyton - Eleven months ago

  Today. I’m going to tell Callum today. I’ll go home, cook him dinner, sit him down, and then I’ll tell him. He’ll be happy, I know he will. That’s what I told myself anyway. I was standing outside the hospital with my—our—twelve-week scan of our baby. I was there with Ruby, and it shouldn’t have been her I was there with, it should have been him. Hearing his or her heartbeat and seeing our baby growing inside me for the first time, I was so overwhelmed. As I was looking at the screen with tears in my eyes, Ruby squeezed my hand and screamed with excitement. I suddenly realised that I was actually terrified of what Callum was going to say. It shouldn’t have been that way, I should have been over the moon … Well, I was, but we should have been in it together, like a normal couple. Happy and excited to have created a brand new life together.

  But he had been so distant lately—he had been so busy with work, he didn’t talk to me anymore; he was not the man I fell in love with. Gone was the sweet, charming man who paid me compliments, the man who sent me flowers at work every single day, the man who left me post-it notes around my flat, the man who made my heart skip a beat every time he walked into a room. He had been replaced with a completely different man altogether. He was cold, distant, moody, and he didn’t talk to me. He had even taken to sleeping on the sofa for the past few weeks putting it down to me being so restless in the night. He was withdrawn and unhappy, refusing to acknowledge me or any problem in our relationship. He constantly accused me of having an affair with Seb, asking me to quit my job at the shop because he didn’t trust Seb. I received constant accusations; the slightest thing he was shouting and causing unnecessary arguments.

  Three months pregnant, I had a little life growing inside of me, and it had to be the best feeling in the entire world. If Callum didn’t want to know, then I’d made a decision to bring the baby up on my own. I could be the best mum in the world. Not every child had to have a mum and dad, right? That’s what I told myself, anyway.

  Ruby had been there from day one, through the chronic morning sickness and she was with me, holding my hand in our bathroom when I took the test, and those two little blue lines changed everything. I’m not going to lie, it was a complete shock at first. As soon as I adjusted to the idea of motherhood, I was wandering around the shop in a euphorically happy baby bubble. My happiness was short-lived because as soon as I got home, Callum and I had a massive row. I thought it was best not to tell him about the baby; it was too soon. Things between us were strained enough, but now, three months in, I was struggling to explain the baggy clothes and getting dressed where he couldn’t look at me too closely. He deserved to know, I just needed to find the right moment.

  After the hospital appointment, Ruby drove me back to Callum’s flat, and I laid down for a while. I couldn’t sleep, though, I kept going over and over it in my mind of what I was going to say to him. I took a hot relaxing bubbly bath, and by the time he finished work, I was feeling a little more relaxed, sitting on the sofa with my legs tucked underneath me with a mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows in front of the TV.

  “Hey, Cal,” I greeted him brightly. He grunted.

  “Is there any beer in the fridge, I’ve had a bitch of a day at work.” His voice was cold.

  “Cal, please, babe, come and sit down. I need to talk to you.
”

  He came back into the living room and cracked open his can of lager, taking a sip before he said, “So talk.”

  He didn’t look me in the eyes, so I took his hand in mine, and he pulled away. Great start.

  “Please, don’t be mad, Callum.”

  He finally looked at me; his eyes were dark and brooding with bags underneath them marring his usually boyish features.

  “I’m-I’m … pregnant.”

  He actually looked like a deer caught in headlights, dumbstruck into silence.