Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

by Amiee Louise

  He’s right, I do feel the same way, but each time I’m with him I mentally talk myself out of being with him. The year I was gone, I was resigned to the fact that I would have to stay hidden permanently, for the sake of my son’s safety. A lot has happened over the past few months: leaving Remy behind, returning to England and the life I had before.

  “Say something,” he says quietly, almost as if he is afraid of my answer.

  “I...I’m sorry it has to be this way, Sam.”

  He sits up and perches on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands down his face.

  “Just go, I can’t keep fucking doing this.”

  I get up from the bed, dress in silence, and grab my bag.

  “I’m so sorry, Sam,” I whisper as I turn and walk away.

  14

  Sam

  I've been voted sexiest man of rock in Core magazine. Amy, Cole’s fiancée, is the editor and boss at the magazine. She built it up from nothing, and it is one of the most successful women’s magazines in the country. She had such a smug look on her face when she announced I had won the poll and instantly bombarded me with ideas for a photo shoot. So here I am, about to be photographed after being primped and preened within an inch of my fucking life. I don't feel like Sam Newbolt, or even my alter ego Bolt. I look in the mirror after an hour in the stylists’ chair, and I see a stranger staring back at me. My hair is the only part of me that hasn't had the stylist's treatment, it is styled in my signature soft spikes, which is the only redeeming quality.

  I'm currently dressed in a tailored Armani suit, black shirt, and a black tie with a white skull on the bottom. Very rock n' fucking roll. I feel like a complete dick. I'm a rock star, I don't wear fucking suits. My tie feels like it is strangling me, and it should be fucking illegal to be up at the arse crack of dawn doing a photo shoot. The rest of the boys have a rare day off, and I’m here with the hangover from hell, which is nothing new, and my brain feels like it is trying to evacuate my skull. I got so fucking wasted last night after Peyton left me in the hotel room. I vaguely remember calling Cole to come and get me, because I couldn’t see straight or remember where I lived. At one point, I couldn’t even remember my own name. It was one of those nights. After we had sex in the hotel room, the way she looked at me, I thought there was hope for us. But she seemed to have other ideas.

  Fucking women.

  I wander aimlessly around the large, stark, black and white set as people fuss over me, and all I can do is fidget awkwardly with the cuffs on my jacket. I could think of a million places that I’d rather be at than here. All of my tattoos are virtually unnoticeable. I feel way out of my depth, and I’m so far out of my comfort zone that it’s not even funny. Give me my leather trousers, biker boots, and a t-shirt and I'm happy as a pig in shit. Me in a suit? Not so much. I continue to fidget with my cuffs when I see a shadow in front of me.

  “Here, let me help you with that.”

  I can't help but recognise the familiar voice and as I lift my gaze. I'm looking into the sparkling steel blue-grey eyes of Piper Gibson. The eyes of my first love, the girl whose heart I shattered into tiny pieces when I cheated on her.

  Fuck me, could this day get any weirder?

  “Piper Gibson, as I live and fucking breathe. Looking good, babe,” I rasp, and she swallows hard as my gaze roams over her hot little body.

  “Sam,” she says flatly, and I smile devilishly.

  “What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?”

  I smirk as she rolls her eyes and takes the cuff of my jacket, fixing the skull shaped cuff links in place.

  “I'm the photographer’s assistant. Believe me, there's a million places I'd rather be than here with you, Sam,” she says bitterly and busies herself with fixing my cuffs.

  I place my hand on my heart and mock being injured.

  “Ouch, you wound me, babe. And here's me thinking we could pick up from where we left off all those years ago.”

  I smile, bringing out my dimples, and she tries her best to appear unaffected.

  “You cheated on me and ripped out my fucking heart, Sam. I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man on this bloody earth,” she snaps in a low voice so only I can hear her.

  “Wow, you got feisty. I like it.”

  I reach out and run my finger gently along her jaw.

  “Fuck me,” I curse, and she looks up questioningly into my eyes.

  “What's wrong?” she says with a hint of concern in her voice, and I smirk wickedly.

  “I'm going to have to go through this whole photo shoot with a raging fucking hard on.”

  I adjust myself in my trousers and she tries to avert her gaze. She fidgets with the other cuff and clumsily drops the cuff link on the floor. We both bend down at the same time to pick it up from the floor. I lean in close to her as my hand brushes hers.

  “Are you imagining what my cock felt like inside you, Piper? How I made you come, over and over again,” I say seductively.

  She loses her balance and falls flat on her arse. Her face starts to flame with embarrassment as the look on her face tells me she remembers. I try to suppress my laughter as I stand to my full height and offer her my hand. She takes it with a frown as I help her to her feet. As she stands and rights herself, she snatches her hand away from mine.

  “You don't get to fucking do that to me, Sam. You and me, it was a long time ago. I'm over it,” she says harshly, and I step closer to her.

  “If you believe that, then you need to do a better job of making it a little more convincing.”

  As someone calls her name, Piper spins around and hurries away from me.

  My day just got a whole lot more fucking interesting.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time. It feels like I have been waiting here for an eternity; three fucking hours to be exact. I'm starting to get impatient and extremely fucking bored. I tug at my tie, and a stylist rushes over to me. She brushes the shoulders of my suit jacket and straightens my tie.

  “Hopefully, not too much longer now, Mr. Newbolt. Is there anything I can get you?” She purrs, and I smile.

  I know exactly what she can get me.

  “Yes, actually. Could you tell Miss Gibson to meet me in my dressing room, please? We're old friends, and it would be great to catch up with her while I'm waiting.”

  She nods. I try to make my smile genuine and stride across the set. I make my way to my dressing room and leave the door ajar. I sit down on the sofa and put my feet up on the coffee table. A few minutes later, the door creaks open and in walks Piper. She tucks her black hair behind her ears and stops in front of me with her hands defiantly on her hips. She definitely wasn't like that when we were together...but fuck, if it isn't hot!

  “Mr. Newbolt, Sasha said you requested I come to your dressing room?”

  I cock my pierced eyebrow at her.

  “You're addressing me as Mr. Newbolt, when you know my body just as intimately as I know yours? That birthmark underneath your left breast, the tattoo above your pubic bone.”

  I purposely speak in a gruff voice, and I visibly see her demeanour change. She runs her hand across her chest and lets out a breath.

  “Look, Sam, it's been ten fucking years, I've moved on.”

  I get up from the sofa and tug my tie loose. I start to stride forward, and with my every stride, she takes a step back, until she hits the door. The door closes, and I flip the lock with a click. I cage her beneath me with my arms either side of her head.

  “Admit it, you want me. As soon as I heard your voice, I knew it was you, even after all these years.”

  I stroke her face and move my hand down to caress her breast softly. She starts to pant, and her breaths come in shallow bursts.

  “How much time do you think we have before they're ready for me out there? Honestly?” I ask, and she clears her throat.

  “About twenty minutes or so,” she says breathlessly.

  “Enough time for me to make you co
me at least twice. Let me make it up to you.”

  I smile my panty-dropping, and I know I've got her.

  “Tell me to stop, babe, and I'll walk away right now. But neither of us want that, do we?” I say cockily as she shakes her head.

  “I can't, because I don't want you to stop, Sam,” she says with a hint of desperation in her voice.

  That is all the permission I need. As I lift her up, she automatically wraps her legs around me, and I shove her up against the door. I press my lips to her neck, and she shivers in my arms. I chuckle softly against her.

  “Some things never change, babe.”

  She laughs softly and melodically, just the way I remember from all those years ago.

  “Sam,” she croons and runs her fingers through my hair. “Holy fuck, you’re even more perfect now, than you were ten years ago,” she blurts out, and I laugh throatily.

  “Wow, compliments as well. I’m honoured,” I rasp, and she tugs my hair sharply, causing me to growl.

  “There’s no need for violence. If you want me to fuck you, you only have to ask me, Pipe.”

  She narrows her eyes.

  “No one’s called me Pipe in years. I swear you used to do it to wind me up on purpose, you fucking fiend!”

  I cock my pierced eyebrow.

  “Fiend? Now I know you can do better than that, babe. You used to use some pretty colourful insults. If I remember right, you were quite fond of the term cockwomble.”

  She grins widely, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile like that.

  “You’ve got such a pretty smile, babe.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Oh please. Are those the lines you’re using these days?”

  I smirk and nip her neck with my teeth, causing her to yelp out loud.

  “I’ll have you know my lines work just fine, they worked on you for years.”

  She goes to shove me away from her, but I capture her wrists in one of my hands and hold them captive above her head.

  “Yeah, they worked just fine until you stuck your cock in some other whore, like I meant nothing, Sam.”

  It’s my turn to roll my eyes as she struggles in my grip.

  “Let me guess, you tripped, and your cock happened to land in her vagina?”

  I throw my head back and laugh.

  “Nice,” I say sarcastically as she looks up at me defiantly, and I crush my lips to hers. “You want to get that pent-up frustration out? Then fuck me like you hate me.”

  I let go of her hands and she tugs my hair hard as her lips nip mine. She reaches for the zip on my trousers and yanks it down. She starts to pant in my mouth, and I knead her breast in my hand. She pulls away from our kiss and moans softly in my ear.

  “Sam, condom,” she says breathlessly.

  “In my wallet.”

  She reaches down and palms my erection in her hand. I let out a growl from deep within my throat and go to yank my tie off when the door I have her pinned to bangs sharply.

  “Mr. Newbolt, we’re ready for you now.”

  Talk about fucking shitty timing.

  I clear my throat as I watch Piper trying to straighten herself out.

  “I’ll be out in a second,” I manage to say coolly and press my forehead to Piper’s.

  “Until next time, Piper.”

  I straight my tie, wink, and zip my trousers back up. I nod curtly and leave the room to the sound of her quietly cursing to herself.

  I enter the set and Amy is waiting for me. She beams as I approach her and pull her in for a hug.

  “Aims, good to see you, babe.”

  She kisses my cheek.

  “You too, babe. Looking sharp.”

  I shake my head.

  “I told you, I don’t do fucking suits.”

  I pull away from our embrace, and she chuckles softly.

  “Are you pouting, Newbolt?”

  I cock my pierced eyebrow.

  “Really, Aims?”

  She throws her head back and laughs.

  “You are. You wait until Cole and the boys hear about this.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  “You’re a hard woman, Lightman.”

  She winks.

  “That’s why you love me, sugar. Is the barbeque at your parents’ estate still on for the weekend?”

  I look at her. I’d fucking forgotten about that. My mum and dad host barbeques in the summer months. It’s like some sort of ritual. Me, my dad, and my brothers’ man the barbeque, like it’s some sort of dick swinging contest, and the women eat, drink, and incessantly bitch about each other.

  “I hear Peyton’s going to be there.”

  My eyes widen. Peyton, at my parents’ house? I don’t fucking think so.

  “Peyton? Where did you hear that?”

  Amy smiles.

  “Your mum told me. She asked Ruby to invite her. They want to spend some time with their grandson, and what a better way to do that than to invite her to their annual barbeque? I’m sure it’ll be fine, sugar. Look, I know you’re having some issues right now, but you share a kid now. It’s important that you get on.”

  I shake my head, unable to get my head around the fact that my ex, the mother of my child, the woman who I love more than anything else in the world, is going to be at my parents’ house this weekend.

  Fuck me.

  15

  Peyton

  The next day, after my hotel encounter with Sam, I wake up, shower, and get ready for work almost on autopilot. Dexter is sitting at the breakfast bar with Freddie on his lap, wearing a grey vest, black jogging bottoms, eating cereal, and reading the newspaper. His hair is messy and still damp from the shower.

  “Morning, sis.”

  He smiles around a mouthful of cereal.

  “Morning, Dex. What are you looking so happy about this morning?”

  He puts his spoon down and hands Freddie to me. I take him and inhale his unique baby smell, there’s nothing like it.

  “Good morning, handsome boy.”

  He blows a raspberry and claps his hands excitedly.

  “Grace called me last night and said she’s ready to talk.”

  I smile. I’m so happy that my brother’s fiancée, Grace, has agreed to speak to him.

  “That’s great, Dex! I’m so happy for you.”

  Dexter continues to eat his cereal with a permanent grin on his face. It is the first time I’ve seen him smile properly in days. An hour passes, I’ve given Freddie his breakfast, dressed him, and I’m ready for work. I grab my denim jacket, pull it on, and grab my bag while checking my hair in the mirror. Today, I’m opting for ripped denim cropped jeans, red Converse, and a red racer back vest which has the word #Selfie on the front in large white letters.

  “Ruby’s coming over to watch Freddie in a little while.”

  He nods and salutes as Kai steps out of his room in his signature black suit.

  “See ya later, sis.”

  He winks, and Kai nods curtly.

  “Bye Dex, bye Freddie.”

  I kiss Freddie on his forehead and wave as Kai and me leave for work.

  We make the journey to the tattoo shop in relative silence just like every morning. Kai parks the car, I get out and make my way to the shop with Kai following five steps behind. It still amazes me that I have a security detail.

  When I get to the shop, the familiar calming smell of disinfectant greets me. Seb is there before me, as always, with my morning pick-me-up: a cup of Starbucks finest coffee waiting for me at my work station. My usual is a large espresso macchiato, one sugar, easy on the milk.

  It really is like I’ve never been away.

  “Morning, honey bunny.”

  Seb beams, and I smile.

  “Good morning, pumpkin.”

  I wink as I take the lid off my coffee and take a welcome sip. Harlowe, our new temporary shop receptionist, waves enthusiastically from the front desk.

  “Morning, pet,” she says in a thick Geordie accent.


  “Morning H.”

  I beam, and I’m instantly reminded why I love my job so much. The shop, the clients, and more importantly, the people I work with. They all contribute to making the days so much more worth it. I make my way to the back of the shop, take off my coat, and check my phone before I stow my bag away. I have a missed call from Ruby. I dial her number and call her back.