Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

by Amiee Louise

  The Wenlock and Essex is a large bar with an urban bordello and a unique burlesque style. Its ruby-red ceiling, tassel lampshades, and candelabras showcase its solid Wild West saloon-style bar. It is one of my favourite bars and the food is to die for. It’s just what I need to unwind after today. I step inside and there is a decent crowd for a week night. Ruby is perched on a bar stool and waves enthusiastically. I walk over and join her, with Kai an acceptable distance away.

  “Hey babe.”

  She jumps off her stool and throws her arms around me. I hug her back and kiss her on the cheek. I pull away and take her in. Her long dark hair is pulled into a high ponytail, she is wearing a cream Peter Pan style collar dress, her bump protruding in front of her, and she is wearing nude heels, and simple diamond stud earrings. She looks even more pregnant now than she did earlier, which makes me smile. We both perch on two free barstools and I order some drinks: A soft drink for Ruby and this place boasts the best cocktails, my favourite is called a Pont berry, vodka, cranberry, and cassis liqueur, so I order one of those for myself. I reach into my bag, and before I can pull out some money, a familiar voice has my head snapping up.

  “I’ll get those, baby cakes.”

  Callum, my ex. He stumbles from one side to the other, he’s clearly more than a little drunk. I look up into light brown smiling eyes, and I instantly feel sick. I can’t believe I ever dated this drunken moron. His usually blonde hair is darker than it was the last time I saw him. he is wearing tight black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black blazer with the sleeves rolled up. He pulls out a twenty-pound note from his pocket and throws it on the bar.

  “Whiskey please, bar keep, and whatever these beautiful ladies are having.”

  I look at the bar man and smile.

  “We’ll get our own, thanks, mate.”

  Callum pushes his money over the bar.

  “I insist, baby cakes. I wondered how long it would be before I saw your beautiful face again,” he slurs, and I roll my eyes.

  Ruby jumps off her bar stool and jabs her finger in Callum’s chest.

  “What did I tell you the last time I saw you, you pathetic little fucking worm? I told you I’d cut your balls off and feed them to you, although that’s not what Brody said to you, is it?”

  Callum’s face turns a ghostly shade paler as he remembers.

  What the fuck did Brody say to him on the night of Sam’s birthday all those months ago?

  “We’ll catch up when your guard dog has disappeared, baby cakes.”

  He winks, and Ruby’s eyes widen.

  “He did not just say that to me, Peyton? Oi! Fuck face!”

  She goes to go after him, until I step in.

  “Leave it, Rubes, he’s not worth it.”

  I placate her as Callum takes a step forward, and Kai moves in front of me.

  “I suggest you leave well alone, if you know what’s good for you,” Kai says menacingly in his American twang.

  Callum cocks his eyebrow.

  “And who’s this fucking clown, baby cakes?”

  Kai squares his shoulders and puts his hands on his hips in a move that Arnold Schwarzenegger would be proud of.

  “This clown is my bodyguard. Kai, this is my dickhead ex. I’m sure you’ve been filled in on our history?”

  He nods.

  “Yes ma’am. Now, you’ve got two choices, either walk away, or I can take you outside and teach you a fucking lesson you’ll never forget. Which is going to be?”

  Callum holds his hands up defensively and stumbles backwards.

  “Now apologise to the ladies.”

  Kai lifts his head and narrows his eyes in Callum’s direction. The look on Callum’s face is priceless, he actually looks like he’s going to shit himself!

  “I’m sorry,” Callum says sheepishly, and Kai nods curtly.

  “Now fuck off.”

  Callum stumbles off across to the other side of the bar. Ruby kisses Kai on the cheek, and I swear he actually blushes!

  “There’s perks to having a security detail! I wonder if I can get Jax to hire one for me!”

  Ruby and I both laugh as Seb and Willow arrive. I smile at Seb and hug him. He pulls me in for one of his famous bear hugs and Willow squeals excitedly. She looks exactly the same as she did the last time I saw her. 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 dimpled smile. She is wearing a green skater dress and green knee-high Converse.

  “Peyton!”

  She shoves Seb playfully out of the way and hugs me tightly as she bounces up and down.

  “It’s so good to see you.”

  Ruby smiles, and Willow pulls away from me to hug her. We spend a few hours drinking, dancing, chatting, and catching up. Ruby tells me that Jax proposed with the help of a guy he used to busk with. He sang will you marry me, and Jax dropped down on one knee outside Brent Cross tube station. She accepted instantly, and my heart slams against my chest when I think about how Sam proposed to me in Vegas. It seems like a lifetime ago.

  I finish my drink in one mouthful and put the glass down on the table.

  “I need to use the loo, I’ll be back in a sec,” I say in a sing-song voice, and I suddenly feel a little drunk.

  Ruby stands up.

  “I’ll come with you, babe.”

  We gossip all the way to the toilet, and it’s good to be out with two of my best friends. I do what I need to, wash my hands, and re-apply my smudged make up. I smack my lips together and finger comb my hair. That will have to do. I fling open the toilet door and leaning against the wall waiting for me is Kai, and next to him is Callum. They are having a heated discussion. Shit. Callum has his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

  “Baby cakes,” He slurs and smiles.

  He is tall, but his lean frame is nothing compared to Sam’s, and I curse myself for thinking of him. Ruby narrows her eyes.

  “Didn’t Captain America make it clear enough for you?” Ruby snaps and points to Kai with her perfectly manicured fingernail.

  “I just want to talk to Peyton, alone, for five minutes. That’s all.”

  Kai steps forward, but I stop him by holding up my finger. I look from Ruby, to Kai, and back to Callum.

  “How have you been, baby cakes?”

  Ruby and I go to walk around but he stops me. Kai steps between us.

  “I won’t fucking tell you again,” Kai says with a threatening edge to his voice, and I step around him. “Peyton, what are you doing?” Kai questions, and I move closer to Callum until we are practically nose to nose.

  “You don’t deserve even five fucking seconds of my time, Callum.”

  I lift my knee up and knee him as hard as I can in his balls. He lets out a high-pitched yelp and drops to his knees, clutching his crotch area.

  “You come anywhere near me again and I swear to God, it won’t be your fucking balls next time,” I say with a hint of warning to my voice.

  I spin on my heel and head back to our table with the sound of Ruby whooping behind me.

  16

  J.D.

  All the months of watching her all over him, the way he looked at her, as if she was the only person in the world. Lying awake at night on the tour bus, listening to the way he pleasured her, the raw, carnal, animalistic noises he made as he found his release.

  It should have been me.

  She had to die, it was the only way. He will love me the way I love him, the way I have always loved him. Ever since I first laid eyes on him all those years ago. His boyish charm, his smile, his dimples, and his sweet, introverted nature. The way he trembled when we made love, the way his body felt pressed against mine, the softness of his luscious pink lips on mine. In the ten years I have known him, he has blossomed from a lanky, awkward, shy boy into a muscular, tattooed, confident man. I will never stop wanting him, no matter how much time passes.

  That age-old Newton theory of ‘every action has an equal and opposite re
action’. That is the reason I am in prison. I was so blinded by my feelings for him, that I hurt the only man I have ever truly loved. I took the life of his fiancée and his unborn baby, but I am not sorry for that. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant that I got to spend just one more day with him.

  The truth is, no one knows what it's like to be me, not even Sam. No one has walked my path, no one has walked a mile in my shoes. No one in here cares what or who I once was out there. I am just a number, a faceless anomaly, a fucking filthy criminal. But my only crime was committed out of love. It was a crime of passion.

  In here, all I have is time, time to think and time to reflect. I keep to myself, taking solace in the silence of my cell. The only thing I have to look forward to in here are my phone calls with the only person that truly understands my feelings for him. We are allowed out in the yard and I take comfort from those minutes I spend with the blazing sun on my skin. For a moment, I forget I am incarcerated for murder, kidnapping, and injuring the man I love. He haunts my dreams as I go over and over the hurtful words he said.

  “How could you ever think I had fucking feelings for you? What happened between us all those years ago was purely for my career. I did it for the boys, and I took one for the team. I wanted my music career so badly I fucked my manager. And you know what? It wasn’t even that good, you fucking sick, pathetic pervert!”

  I understand totally that he was angry, and I will never forgive myself for hurting him, but I have to explain. I have to make him understand that my actions were justified; all of it was for him and only him. I might have acted a little irrationally, but love makes everyone irrational, right? I am always in quiet control; I am rarely careless and reckless, but he has this adverse effect on me. Those sparkling green eyes of his, the tattoos, those rock-hard abs, the tight curve of his arse, all have my mind turning to jelly. I can't think rationally when he is near me, I am assaulted and tortured by the scent of him. I am devastated that I will never experience his touch, his intoxicating scent, and that I will never get to drink in the sight of his perfect body again.

  As I am sitting in my cell, contemplating, I am struck with an idea. I will write him a letter. I open the drawer next to my bed and pull out the note pad and a pencil, which are next to the bible that I have found solace in.

  Dearest Sam,

  Before I carry on know this, I am sorry for hurting you, but I had to make you understand that all of this was for you and for you alone. I know you will never forgive me, but I have to try to make you understand that my actions were carried out purely out of my love for you. I believe that 100%. That night we spent together, all those years ago, I know you felt it too. All these years I have protected you, protected your assets from the gold diggers, and waited patiently for you to realise your true feelings for me. In here, all I have is time to think about you and us, what could have been. We could have been happy, Sam. Please know, I never meant to hurt you. Know that one day we will be together. I will love you always, and that thought is what keeps me warm at night.

  All my love

  John xxx

  The only redeeming quality of being in here, confined to a cell, is you get to think about the things that didn’t seem important before and the insignificant things that are just...meaningless. Like, what defines a freak? Am I a freak for falling in love with Sam? Is Sam a freak for denying his sexuality? Am I a freak for killing the woman he loved and their baby? For denying him his happy ever after? Is Peyton a freak for falling in love with a man so out of her league and who is, in short, broken? The answer to that question is like attempting to answer the meaning of life. There is more than one answer. It’s complex, complicated, and fucked up beyond all recognition.

  When I was a boy, I always used to think there was monsters hiding under my bed. As I’ve grown older, I believe that sometimes monsters and demons lurk in the shadows. Sometimes they hide in plain sight, waiting to strike when we least expect them. My demon was chained up for ten years, craving and yearning its drug of choice. Sam Newbolt. My addiction, my own personal unique brand of cocaine. An addiction I cannot break, a habit I just cannot quit.

  I know absolutely nothing about the American prison system, all I know is that I’m awaiting trial, which could take months. After being refused bail, I am being held in Washington State Penitentiary, which is a medium security prison. Also, because of my high profile, I am at risk from the other prisoners. Therefore, I have been placed in segregation. I have only been incarcerated for a few days, but it feels like so much longer.

  I sit in my cell, eating my breakfast in relative silence. The door to my cell is open and the only noise I can hear is the T.V from the guards’ station across the hallway.

  “Peyton Harper, tattoo artist and former fiancée of Rancid Vengeance front man, Samson Newbolt, has been found alive and well after being allegedly murdered in twenty fourteen by the band’s then manager, John Dalton a.k.a Johnnie Diamond. Police are questioning Miss Harper, following up on their line of enquiry. Nevertheless, the question on everyone’s lips is, was this a genuine incident, or a cruel trick to fool Newbolt and the world into thinking she was dead? Only time will tell. Harper’s family refused comment, and we are eagerly awaiting a statement from Rancid Vengeance.”

  My head snaps up as I hear the news report and the mention of my name. How the fuck can she be alive? I killed her! I drove a knife through her chest; I watched the life fade from her eyes. I fucking buried her! I launch my breakfast tray against the wall in a fit of rage, and I perch on the edge of the excuse they call a bed. I am trembling with such anger. What the fuck? I have to talk to Anna. It can’t be true. It can’t be. I pace my cell, running my hands frantically through my hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I need to speak to Anna, now.

  I make my way out of my cell and down the corridor to where the phones are. I take my phone card out of my pocket, put it into the slot, and I dial the number, which I have memorised. It rings twice before she answers, and I’ve never been so relieved to hear her voice.

  “Hello, Anna? It’s me,” I say with an air of panic to my otherwise calm voice.

  “John, how are you? It’s so good to hear your voice,” she says cheerily.

  “You too, Anna. I’ve just seen the news, is it true?” I blurt out, and she sighs heavily.

  “Yes, unfortunately, it’s true. I wondered how long it would be until you saw the news. I thought you eliminated the problem, John?”

  My shoulders sag as she says those words.

  “I did, at least I thought I did. Are they together? Is he fucking her?” I ask curiously.

  “She’s been to see him at the hospital, that’s all I know so far. I’m sorry I can’t tell you anymore. I know how you feel about him,” she says sadly, and I sigh.

  “There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about him, Anna.”

  There is a slight pause.

  “I’m so sorry, John, I know this must be hurting you.”

  I squeeze my eyes briefly shut as she speaks again.

  “After everything you did for me, after what happened, I fucked up the one thing you needed me to do, and now you’re in prison. I’m so sorry,” she says with such emotion in her voice. “I wish there was a way I could make this right.”

  I take in her words, and I shake my head.

  “What’s done is done, there’s no changing the past, Anna. It’s over,” I say, with more than a hint of defeat in my voice.

  I’ve accepted my fate, only God can judge me now.

  17

  Peyton

  The week ended pretty much as it begun, uneventful. Before I know it, Saturday has rolled around. Today is the day of the barbeque at the Newbolt’s house in Kent. Ruby has assisted me in getting ready and today. I’m opting for a fifties prom dress, it is white with black polka dots and it has a halter neck, which accentuates my boobs. The skirt is full and sits at my knees, showing off my leg tattoos. I am wearing a pair of white Converse, my usual na
tural make-up, and a white rose in my hair. Ruby finishes applying my lip gloss and places her hands on her hips, admiring her handiwork.

  “You look gorgeous, babe.”

  She smoothes my hair, and I suddenly feel butterflies forming in my stomach. I place my hand on my stomach and puff out my cheeks.

  “Why do I feel so fucking nervous, Rubes?”

  She smiles softly.

  “It’s the first time you’ve been around any of them properly since you came home. It’s natural, babe, you’ll be fine. I’ll be right there with you, I promise.”