Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

by Amiee Louise

  With those words, I feel my heart constrict in my chest. He’s lying, he’s playing mind games. He is a manipulative, evil liar. Breathe, Harper.

  “No...No, you’re fucking lying; it’s not true Sam wouldn’t do that, he loves me.”

  He laughs maniacally.

  “Oh please, he’s just like the rest of the men in the world, darlin’. Only he’s Sam Newbolt, he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, because he fucking can!” he spits and folds his arms as he comes to a stop in front of me.

  “You’re definitely our Sammy’s type though, without a shadow of a doubt. Brunette, check, pretty eyes, check, impressive tits, check and I’ll bet you’ve got a pretty pussy too.”

  He moves closer to me. I can feel and smell his stale, alcohol breath on my cheek. He strokes my face with his fingers, and I buck violently against the restraints.

  “DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME!” I scream, and he presses his forehead against mine.

  “Ah, there’s that fire that Sammy kept talking about, I can definitely see why he kept you around longer than the others.”

  He moves his hand down and roughly gropes my breast in his hand, causing me to wince in pain. He moves down to my stomach and lingers on my small bump. As his hand makes contact with my stomach, my mothering instinct kicks in.

  “Don’t you dare fucking touch my baby,” I say through clenched teeth, and all I want to do is protect my baby from this evil monster.

  “I’m just saying hello to Sam’s spawn, if it even is Sam’s spawn,” he accuses.

  How fucking dare he.

  “This baby is one million percent Sam’s, and if you hurt him or her, I swear on my life I will fucking kill you.”

  He laughs hysterically.

  “You’ll kill me? Who’s the one tied to the chair, sweetheart?”

  I buck against the restraints again to no avail, and he laughs maniacally.

  “I have to take a dump, feel free to amuse yourself while I’m gone.”

  He winks and strides off out of the room. I look around taking in my surroundings; I am in some sort of storage facility. There are no windows, but I can make out a large set of storage shelves and a small table to the left side of the room. The darkness is an eerie sort of darkness. I feel my heartbeat start to quicken and that is when the tears start to fall. I am terrified that we are not going to make it out of here.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry boo, I promise I’ll protect you with my life, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Mummy will get us out of here,” I whisper to my baby, wishing I could believe my words and close my eyes.

  I picture Sam’s sparkling green eyes and his dimples, his hard, inked, muscular body and the way he looked at me, as if I was the only woman in the world. That thought will get me through anything.

  ***

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but I am shaken by the cold chill of J.D’s voice.

  “Wakey, wakey, bitch. Round fucking two.”

  I look up, his eyes are wide, glossy and he is sweating profusely. If I am not mistaken, he has been taking cocaine. He goes to retrieve something from the other side of the room and moves back over to me. He crouches down in front of me and pulls the blade he used on me from behind his back. I flinch as it comes into view and he smirks.

  “Say hello to my little friend.”

  He mimics the famous Scarface line, and I swallow back the lump that has formed in my throat. He holds the knife in front of his face and looks at it in awe. He examines it and runs his finger along the knife-edge.

  “Sam says hello, by the way. I called him while I was gone, and he asked me to send his love.”

  My eyes widen, and my blood runs cold. Sam knows I’m here?

  “He...he...he knows I’m here?” I ask with disbelief in my voice, and he laughs.

  “Of course, he does, sweetheart, he asked me to kidnap you, and he asked me to make sure you didn’t make it to the gig. He said he wanted to break up with you, so him and me could finally be together. I knew he would see sense in the end, I told you, you were just a stopgap, something pretty to fill the time. He said I’m welcome to do whatever I want with you, I can kill you if I want, kill you and the demon spawn inside of you. He never wanted you, it’s always been me.”

  As he says those words, my whole world feels like it has crashed down around me. I am truly crushed. Why would Sam do this? Why? I thought he loved me? All these months he’s been stringing me along? Because what? Because he’s gay? Because he’s in love with J.D? His grating laugh snaps me out of my thoughts, and he starts clapping.

  “Well done! You’re finally getting it, sweetheart! All the pieces are at long last falling into place!” he says brightly and claps his hands animatedly.

  I shake my head, feeling physically sick.

  “NO! NO! YOU’RE FUCKING LYING! IT’S NOT TRUE! SAM LOVES ME!” I scream, as his maniacal laugh echoes around the room.

  “Oh, you’re so deluded sweetheart, Sam’s in love with me; he has been for years, ever since that night we spent together! He uses women because he can’t come to terms with his sexuality, but he always comes back to me. Now, after all these years, he’s seen that no matter how many women he has in his bed, I’ll always be here. I’ll be the one who he comes back to in the end. He asked me to punish you, to do with as I please and you know what? He doesn’t fucking care!”

  He raises his voice and spits out those final four words with such venom, I have no doubt in my mind that he is telling the truth. I am sobbing uncontrollably now, and I feel bile rising in my throat.

  “NO!” I yell, and he jumps up from the floor. He moves closer to my face.

  “YES!” he mocks, and I violently thrash against my restraints, screaming hysterically.

  “HELP! OH GOD PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE!”

  He slaps me with the back of his hand across my face, and the slap is so harsh it echoes around the room.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch. This will all be over soon, and then I’ll take a few pictures, maybe a lock of hair.” He twirls my hair around his finger and the feel of his hands on me, makes my skin crawl. “Just as a reminder, a souvenir if you like, to show Sam. He’ll be happy that I’ve done this for him and I plan on making him show me just how grateful he is,” he says menacingly, and I zone out to a place where all this is just a bad dream.

  18

  Peyton - Present

  “Beaut.”

  Remy’s voice is rough, and his face is filled with concern as I see him walking towards me in the hospital corridor. He is wearing jeans, a black t-shirt, and white Converse trainers; his long dark hair is tied up in a ponytail. I have never been so glad to see a friendly face, in this moment, he is my saviour.

  Remy Logan is Ruby’s older brother, I went to him for help after J.D kidnapped, tortured, and supposedly killed me. Remy is three years older than Ruby and me, at thirty-one years old. He is six feet five inches tall, lean, and muscular with kind, deep brown eyes, with olive skin and long, dark brown, wavy hair. He reminds me of Heath Ledger in the film 10 Things I Hate About You. You can definitely tell him and Ruby are brother and sister; they look so alike it’s scary. I lost my virginity at the age of seventeen to Remy, who was twenty at the time, and we have always had a soft spot for each other. If I am honest, he was my first love. We were inseparable, and I was besotted with him.

  Ruby and Remy were once estranged due to their parents, Pearl and Ray, favouring Remy. However, as they grew older, they set their differences aside and kept in touch regularly via phone, letter, email, and Skype. A year after Remy took my virginity, he joined the army and left without a word. I was heartbroken and totally devastated when he left. I really thought he was the one. Remy and I kept in touch by letter while he was stationed in Afghanistan. Six years after he joined the army, he had his left leg blown off below the knee by a roadside bomb in the Helmand Province. Shortly after this, we reconnected and started chatting again, before I got together
with Callum. We started to keep in touch regularly via phone, email, and Skype, as he did with Ruby.

  At twenty-seven, Remy was honourably discharged from the army, due to the injury he sustained. He also received somewhere in the region of one point six million pounds in compensation after a long, drawn-out legal battle. He spent some time in Camp Bastion Field Hospital after his injury before he was flown back to the U.K to undergo a number of operations and extensive rehabilitation. After he had recovered, he moved to America, invested in some properties and he has been there ever since. He has a prosthetic leg and walks with a slight limp. He works in a bar and is a part-time self-defence trainer, not that he needs to. Even though he was once serving for his country, he isn’t bitter at all. He is lucky to be alive, and even though he suffers from P.T.S.D, he is happy to live out the rest of his days as a civilian and in relative peace. I will be eternally grateful for everything he has done for me.

  I run into his arms and as soon as he wraps his arms around me, I break down. I sob in his arms. I sob for Sam, for the past year of my life I have been without him, for the lies J.D fed me, for putting him through hell, and for Freddie, our innocent, beautiful baby boy.

  “Shhh, it’s alright, I’m here. I’ve got you, shhh everything's going to be ok,” he soothes and kisses the top of my head, pulling me tighter to him. “Let it all out, beaut, I’m not going anywhere.”

  His voice is soft, as he runs his hands up and down my back.

  “Let me take you back to the hotel. Freddie's missing his mummy, I left him with Marta in the hotel crèche.”

  I shake my head and pull away from our embrace. Suddenly overcome with the need to go back into Sam’s hospital room and make him listen to me.

  “I can’t...Rem...I can’t, Sam…he...he needs to listen, he h...has to understand why,” I choke out, and he cups my face in his hands.

  “Hey, look at me, beautiful, chances are he’s angry, upset, or both, am I right?”

  I meet his sympathetic brown gaze, and I nod.

  “Then maybe it’s for the best, if you leave it until he’s at least calmed down a little, you need to trust me on this one.”

  I know he’s right, but I have to make him understand. I have to make him see that I never wanted any of this. All I ever wanted was to keep Freddie safe and protect us both from J.D. I have gone a whole year believing J.D’s twisted, sick lies and I intend to make it right, even if I die trying.

  19

  Sam

  After a restless night’s sleep, with all the thoughts of Peyton, our son, and the past year running through my mind at a million miles an hour. I wake the next morning to Peyton sitting next to my bed. As my sluggish brain registers the fact I am not dreaming, I take in every inch of her once again. Pillar box red hair in a short, sleek bob secured by a red polka dot headband, a red vest top, tiny, faded, ripped, denim shorts, and red Converse trainers. She is visibly thinner and looks almost too thin. The muscles in her biceps are taut and more defined. Her heavily tattooed skin is sun-kissed and golden; the sun definitely suits her. God, she is fucking stunning. Vulnerability and sheer anguish shroud her face, and I can’t fucking stand to see that look on her.

  The anger I felt yesterday, has somewhat dissipated. I was in shock, I was angry, upset and my feelings overwhelmed me all at once. I needed some time to think, and even though my night was restless, my thoughts are finally clear. I am willing to try, to take things slow. All I know is, I need her back in my life, fuck the consequences. I don’t think she realises I’m awake, until I reach over to tuck an errant strand of her hair behind her ear. She flinches violently at my touch and my heart slams against my rib cage at her reaction to me. What the fuck happened to her in the year she was gone?

  “Morning,” I rasp, and she looks up at me like a rabbit caught in headlights. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” I say apologetically, and I notice that her eyes are red, puffy and bloodshot. “You’ve been crying,” I say matter of factly, as she sits up straight and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “It’s nothing,” she whispers, and I cock my pierced eyebrow.

  “I can smell bullshit, angel.”

  She sniffs, and she goes to get up from her chair.

  “You look exhausted.”

  I regard her intently, and I reach for her hand to stop her from leaving.

  “Look, please don’t go, sit down and talk to me. I’m so sorry about the way I reacted yesterday, I was angry, upset, shocked, confused. I didn’t mean all those things I said. It was said in the heat of the moment. I’m sorry, please forgive me, angel.”

  Dejectedly, she sits back down in the chair, shaking her head and laughing bitterly.

  “Forgive you? I’m the one who should be begging your forgiveness. You were right, what I did was unforgivable, Sam. I let you think I was dead, and I gave birth to your baby without telling you. I should be on my fucking knees pleading with you to forgive me.”

  I look at her and cock my head, as she angrily swipes at her eyes

  “What the fuck happened to you, Peyton?”

  That’s when I see it, the pained look in her eyes. Seeing that look in her beautiful blue eyes crushes my soul.

  “I...I don’t want to talk about it, it’s not important.”

  It is as if the shutters have come down on her emotions and she dismisses me instantly. She stands up and I know I have to think of something to make her stay. Think Newbolt don’t let her leave.

  “Can I see him?”

  She looks at me.

  “Freddie, can I see our son?”

  She smiles and nods. I catch a glimpse of the girl I fell in love with in that moment. The feisty, carefree, woman whose blue eyes dance when she smiles. My heart fills with hope that there still might be a chance for us. Even if it’s just a small sliver of a chance, I’ll hold onto that.

  20

  Peyton

  “Can I see him?” he blurts out.

  His phrase shocks me to the core, and I look up at him, regarding him intently. I am so taken aback by his words, I don't know what to say. His mood seems to have shifted dramatically from our initial encounter yesterday.

  “Freddie, can I see our son?”

  I smile and nod at the thought of our son Freddie meeting his daddy for the first time. The thought makes my heart swell with pride and love, not just for Freddie, but for Sam too.

  “Yeah, of course. It was never my intention to keep him from you, Sam, you have to believe that.”

  My voice is barely a whisper, I look to the floor, and I’m having trouble maintaining eye contact, because of the hidden hurt I see when I look at him.

  “Look at me, angel,” he whispers huskily, and I can’t help but obey his commanding voice.

  I look at him, and he is still that breath-taking man I fell in love with. His raven black hair is longer, shaggy and falling into his eyes. His arms are more sculpted and corded with pure, hard, muscle. He is tanned, and he looks like he has added even more tattoos to his perfect body. Peeking through the top of his hospital gown, I can see he has a chest piece spanning from one collarbone to the other. The words ‘My Angel’ are inked in large, black, gothic script lettering. There isn’t an inch of skin on his arms that isn’t tattooed, and he looks even more perfect. My eyes skim over his chest tattoo, the elegant flowing script is visually beautiful, and I can’t take my eyes off it. He gently runs his long-calloused finger down my arm, and I shiver at his familiar touch; the touch I have missed so much.

  “For you, you were...are my angel, Peyton. You saved me in so many ways, from myself most of all,” he rasps.

  I wipe away tears that escape from my eyes, and I hate that I’ve done this to him. I hate that I’m the one that put that look in his eyes. Fuck, I really can’t do this. I step back from the hospital bed. My heart is pounding at what feels like a hundred miles a minute. He reaches for me, but I move away before his hand makes contact with mine. If he touches me, I know I’ll cave and give in to
the feelings threatening to overwhelm me.

  “Don’t go, please.”

  His husky voice sounds pained and thick with unshed tears. I shake my head.

  “I’m…so s…sorry, I can’t, I can't do this,” I choke out and rush through the door quickly, feeling a panic attack threatening.

  “FUCK!”

  I hear him roar, as I leave the room. As I try to make my escape, I collide with a hard wall of muscle, and strong arms catch me before I fall to the ground. I look up to see Remy’s kind, friendly, face, full of concern.