Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

by Amiee Louise

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Sam. Can you not go anywhere without getting into trouble? Kai, it’s not in your job description to get involved in domestics. I got this, man,” he growls and pulls Sam off Brody without effort. Kai nods and retreats back into his room.

  “For fucks sake,” Cole mutters, grabbing Sam and shoving him down on the sofa.

  “You need to sober the fuck up; I don’t need this shit. Peyton, sugar, do you have some coffee and a first aid kit?”

  I nod and go into the kitchen. I open the cupboard, take out the first aid kit, and turn on the coffee machine. I spin round, and I am greeted by Brody’s blood-stained face.

  “Fuck,” I curse and gesture for him to take a seat at the breakfast bar. He sits down.

  “I don’t know what you said to him, sweets, but he’s...well you’ve seen the state of him. He’s a fucking mess without you. He’s off his meds, he’s self-medicating and taking drugs, he’s getting into fights, he’s drinking heavily, and pushing everyone away, refusing help.”

  His voice is filled with concern for his best friend, and I know what is coming next.

  “He’s having another episode, isn’t he?”

  Brody hangs his head and nods.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Yeah, they’re happening a little too frequently these days. He’s refusing rehab, he’s refusing medical attention. Even Marlowe can’t get through to him. He was fine until you left his parents’ house, then he just disappeared to his old bedroom with a bottle of vodka.”

  I can’t help but feel responsible for all this, after I let my mouth run away with me. I open the first aid kit and tend to Brody’s wounds, cleaning him up as best as I can. He winces in pain as I swipe an antiseptic wipe over the cut on his nose.

  “Stop being such a girl,” I joke.

  We both smirk, and he rolls his eyes, the mood momentarily turning serious.

  “He fucking needs you, sweets.”

  I shake my head.

  “I can’t, Brody. I just can’t.”

  He takes my hand in his.

  “Why not? What are you so fucking scared of?”

  I snatch my hand from him and walk across the kitchen, ashamed to look him in the eyes.

  “Sweets, talk to me.”

  He hops off his barstool and rounds the counter.

  “What’s so bad that you’re pushing away a man that loves you?”

  He cups my face in his hands, and I shake my head. A tear escapes from the corner of my eye, and I squeeze my eyes closed to stop the dam from breaking.

  I will not cry, I will not cry, I chant in my head.

  “Sam loves the fuck out of you, sweets.”

  Brody pulls me in for one of his famous bear hugs, and he wraps his muscular arms around me. I try to resist, but he doesn’t allow it.

  “Stop fighting it, everything’s going to be ok.”

  I wrap my arms around him, and in that moment, I am so overwhelmed with grief that the sadness envelopes me, and it feels like I can’t breathe. Gut wrenching sobs overtake me, and Brody’s hands roam over my back, soothing me.

  “Shhh, I’ve got you, sweets. It’s alright, shush, I’m here,” he pacifies.

  I don’t look up, but I feel Brody’s head move, and I know that Sam is standing in the doorway; my skin prickles as I feel his presence, even though I don’t look up to see him. I pull away from Brody’s embrace and straighten myself out. I swipe my tears angrily away from my eyes and look up at Sam. His eyes are a dull forest green, and the dark circles underneath his eyes look out of place on his hotter than hell face.

  “I think you should leave,” I say, but something in the tone of my voice tells me I don’t mean it.

  “Say it with a little more conviction, angel. You don’t really want me to go. The way you’re looking at me is the total opposite. I know that look, that look is...I want you to scatter my inhibitions all over the kitchen floor, along with the buttons on my dress, and fuck me like you hate me.”

  I’m not sure his voice could get any sexier. The deep, husky timbre washes over me and causes my whole body to involuntarily shudder with lust. He seems a little soberer as he strides closer to me with purpose. He runs his calloused finger down my neck and across my collarbone. I briefly close my eyes, bite my lip, and a small moan escapes from my lips. My eyes fly open as I slowly realise that I can’t let him do this to me. I can’t let him have this effect on me. I swallow hard and blink a few times, as if to gather my scattered senses.

  “You need to leave, Sam.”

  My voice is small, and I don’t recognise it as my own. A cocky smirk spreads across his face, as if he knows the effect he’s having on me.

  “I’ll do as you ask, just this once, angel, but I’ll keep my phone on in case you change your mind.”

  He winks smugly, tucks his hands into his pockets, and leaves.

  Well that wasn’t what I was expecting.

  Brody looks from Sam’s retreating back, to me.

  “Well fuck me running.”

  We both laugh. He hugs me and kisses me on the forehead.

  “I’ll call you in the morning, sweets.”

  He turns to leave. I hear the hushed conversation and the door closing. With that, the peace in my flat is restored. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Suddenly, an unexpected feeling of loneliness washes over me, and I give in to the crushing guilt and sadness I feel.

  20

  Sam

  I am silent on the journey back to my place, and my mood plummets the further we get from Peyton’s. I fucked up, I’m such a fucking idiot. Shit, shit, fuck, BOLLOCKS! Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to turn up at her flat drunk off my face? I slam my head back against the headrest of the car and curse softly as my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out and look at the screen. It’s Vance Stryker, our solicitor. I swipe the screen and answer it.

  “This better be fucking good, Stryker,” I half growl and half slur.

  There is a slight pause.

  “Ah, nice to hear from you too, Mr. Newbolt.”

  I roll my eyes and lean my head back. I don’t need this shit right now.

  “Get to the point,” I snap, quickly losing my patience with the man who calls himself our solicitor.

  Vance Stryker is our solicitor and has been for almost eleven years.

  “I’m afraid you’re going to want to hear this, Sam.”

  I stare at the ceiling of the car and sigh.

  “What’s up, Vance? Give it to me.”

  It takes a few seconds for him to continue.

  “A date has been set for J.D’s trial. I thought you should know.”

  I sit up straighter, and my eyes widen. Great, this is all we need. Dragging up a time that Peyton and I would rather forget. FUCK! I scrub my hand down my face, and all I want at that moment is oblivion.

  “Cheers for the heads-up, Vance, I appreciate it. Call me when you’ve got more details.”

  “You can count on it, Sam. Take care and enjoy the rest of your night.”

  I end the call without saying goodbye and toss my phone on the seat next to me.

  “Everything alright, dude?” Brody says with concern in his voice.

  “Everything’s fucking peachy, mate.”

  I plaster a fake smile on my face, and by the look in Brody’s eyes, I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

  “Cole, can you drop us at Lust and Redemption? I feel like getting wasted.”

  Cole catches my stare in the interior mirror, and he looks at me questioningly. He goes to speak but thinks better of it and nods curtly. Twenty minutes later, we are pulling up outside Lust and Redemption, the strip club that Lenny, Brody’s sober sponsor, owns. As I get out, I hear Cole talking to Jax in hushed tones.

  “Are you coming or not, Chase? Or do you need Ruby’s permission these days?” I retort and Jax flips me the bird.

  I throw my head back and laugh as I throw my arm around Brody’s neck.


  “I’m in the mood for a blow out, man!” I say brightly, and he stops us from walking any further.

  “Look, are you sure this is what you want, mate? I get that you’re pissed…”

  I halt him from speaking.

  “I’m fine! Look, man, I’m on top of the fucking world! Let’s get wasted, maybe a cheeky little blow job for good measure?”

  I cup Brody’s face in my hands.

  “Come on, Hart, you’ve never needed this much fucking persuading before! Are you with me, brother?”

  His eyes regard me with quiet unease.

  “I’m fine! Seriously!” I reassure him with all the enthusiasm I can muster, and he eventually nods.

  “YEAHHHH!” I roar as Lenny catches sight of us.

  “B, this is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you, son.”

  He grins dazzlingly and gives Brody a hug.

  “Thought I’d surprise you, old man!” Brody quips.

  I enter the club and the music is pumping. I recognise the song as, ‘Zombie’ by The Cranberries. The slow, pulsing beat flows through my veins as a brunette with short cropped hair who is covered in tattoos approaches me. Her eyes are an unusual shade of amethyst, she has a nose ring, and she is wearing two leather belts crossed over each breast, barely there leather, studded hot pants, and black knee-high boots. She is holding a silver tray.

  “Good evening, welcome to Lust and Redemption. I’m Zena, what can I get you?”

  I flash her my dimpled grin, and I see her swallow hard.

  “Depends, I’m feeling…a little rebellious tonight, babe. What would you recommend for that?” I say low and gravelly as I move closer to her.

  I tower over her, and I’m so close to her I can feel her breath coming out in sharp gusts.

  “I think you need loosening up a little bit, lover.”

  I cock my pierced eyebrow as I see Brody and Jax carefully observing our exchange.

  “Sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Do you want to rebel with me?” I rasp low and seductively.

  I offer her my hand and she takes it. I spin her around and crush my lips to her soft, plump lips. She’s the first to pull away, and we’re both rendered breathless.

  “Well, aren’t you a fast mover?”

  She giggles nervously as a balding man approaches us. He is overweight, average height, and has sweat beading on his forehead. He is wearing an ill-fitting suit and his shirt buttons look as if they are about to pop as he grunts in our direction.

  “Is everything alright here, Zee?”

  He looks from her to me and her demeanour changes from a flirty, carefree woman to a meek, timid one.

  “Everything’s fine thanks, Nigel.”

  She smiles a fake smile as Nigel narrows his eyes at us both.

  “Is this dickhead giving you grief?”

  His eyes flash as he sees her hand in mine, and he snatches her hand away.

  “Get your fucking hands off my girl, knob head,” he says low and threatening, as he grabs her arm roughly.

  Before I know what is happening, he throws a punch and manages to land a blow to my chin, knocking me a little off balance. He goes to hit me again, and that’s when I lose it. I charge at him and slam my large body into his, tackling him to the floor. I kneel over him as I pound my fists into his pathetic fucking face. He tries to block my punches with one hand as he rears his fist back and thumps me square in the eye, causing a blinding pain to tear through me. Every ounce of control and every modicum of anger I feel, the news from Vance about J.D, Peyton, everything that’s happened between us since her return, and the crushing guilt I feel for fucking Lyla, comes pouring out. The moments that pass are hazy as I register Brody and Jax spring into action.

  “SAM!”

  I vaguely hear Brody’s voice, and as he goes to grab me, I send him hurtling backwards across the club floor. I refuse to listen to reason as this fat fucking prick takes the brunt of my rage. I continue to rain blow after blow down on this sad, feeble fucking excuse of a human being. His face morphs into J.D’s and every vein in my body starts to pulse, causing my blood to feel like it is scalding me from the inside out. I can’t stop myself, the sickening sounds of every slug, the crunching of bones, and the spray of blood, until he stops moving. That’s when Brody, Jax, and at least three of Lenny’s security men lift me up. I am restrained with my arm up my back and dragged away.

  I’m in a daze as I’m shoved into a chair in one of the clubs back offices.

  “What the fuck were you thinking, you fucking idiot!” Jax barks, and I struggle to focus.

  “Are you even listening, fuck nut?”

  Jax paces the office furiously. I take in my surroundings and suddenly feel a little bit more drunk than I did earlier. Fuck me, the room is starting to spin.

  “I swear to Christ, I’m going to fucking twat him!” he says threateningly, and Brody pulls his phone out of his pocket.

  “Yeah, it’s Brody. We need you to come to Lust and Redemption. I know it’s late, and I’m fucking sorry, mate. We’ve got a situation, we need you to clean it up and take care of it. I’ll explain when you get here. Cheers man, we owe you.”

  I shift in my seat and put my head in my hands as Lenny comes striding with purpose into the office.

  “What the fuck?” he roars gruffly as he drags me up from the chair.

  “Give me a good fucking reason why I shouldn’t let my men take you round the back and teach you a lesson?”

  I don’t know what comes over me, but I start to laugh hysterically.

  “You think this is fucking funny? Do you, boy? I’m going to have the filth come crawling over this club in less than five fucking minutes!”

  Brody steps in.

  “Len, I’m so sorry. Look he’s just had a bit too much to drink, that’s all. I’ll take him home. I’m sorry for bringing him here.”

  Lenny looks from me to Brody and let’s go of me, shoving me back down into the chair.

  “I should be shaking your fucking hand, boy. I’ve wanted to nail that scumbag for months.”

  He laughs throatily, and he pulls out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. He throws it and I catch it.

  “Here, clean yourself up and sober the fuck up. You owe me, B.”

  He winks at Brody, and Brody smirks.

  “Have I ever let you down, Len?”

  Brody laughs as Lenny exits the room. I’m not sure how much time passes, but all thoughts of self-pity are halted by the entrance of Tate Jackson, our P.R guy.

  “What the fuck have you done this time, Newbolt?”

  Oops!

  21

  Peyton

  The next morning, I am woken at six forty-seven a.m. to Freddie crying. It is Sunday morning, and even though I had a decent night’s sleep, I feel exhausted. I pad out of the bedroom, grabbing my robe and pulling it tightly around my body. I walk into the nursery, pick Freddie up, and cradle him in my arms, soothing him until he stops crying.

  “Good morning, handsome boy,” I whisper and take him out into the kitchen.

  I pick up my phone, and I have six missed calls and five text messages. Three of the calls are from Ruby, two are from Brody, and one is from Sam. I sit down at the breakfast bar, rocking Freddie in one arm and scrolling through my phone with the other.

  Call me, babe

  Let me know you’re ok

  I’m worried

  R x

  I scroll down to the next message.

  Is everything ok, sweets?

  Call me if you need me

  Brody xx

  I smile at my friend’s concern and scroll down to the next message.

  Angel,

  I’m so fucking sorry

  S x

  I roll my eyes at Sam’s attempt at an apology and scroll down.

  Angel,

  Forgive me

  Call me, please

  We need to talk

  It’s important

  S x

  I get up from the barsto
ol and set about making Freddie a bottle. I scroll to the last message.

  Sweets,

  It’s Sam

  He got into a fight

  He had an episode

  Just thought you should know