Tattoos & Tears (Complete Collection)

by Amiee Louise

  I crush my lips to hers and taste the salt of her tears. In that moment, it’s just us watching the sunset, and I couldn’t be fucking happier.

  Epilogue

  Peyton - 1 Year Later

  As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I hardly recognise the woman staring back at me. Today is our wedding day, and it feels like a lifetime has passed for us to finally get to this point. This past year has been a total whirlwind, from touring with the boys, managing Saint Sinner, and juggling being a mum to Freddie.

  Over this past year, the band have been on a worldwide tour, and I travelled with them for a few months, in the early stages of my pregnancy. We moved to a new house, a purpose built, three storey, eleven-bedroom property in Chislehurst, Kent. I also continued to tattoo at Saint Sinner Ink, part-time, with Seb.

  I adjust my veil, and my mum comes up behind me to help me.

  “Here let me, darling girl.”

  I catch my mum’s gaze in the mirror, and her eyes are glossy with tears.

  “Don’t you bloody dare, mum!”

  My voice shakes, and we both laugh.

  “You look absolutely breath taking, darling. That boy is a bloody lucky bastard!”

  I laugh at my mum’s cursing, and she kisses me on the cheek as Dexter enters mine and Sam’s bedroom. The wedding will be taking place in the twelve-acre grounds at the back of our house. He has our son, Zachary Marlowe Newbolt, in his arms. Zachary was born on the fifth of July, and Sam never left my side throughout the birth. He was with me through the pain, the contractions, and the moment our son arrived into the world.

  “I think someone needs a nappy change, sis! How can something so smelly come out of something that adorable!” he says with an exaggerated eye roll and a charming smile as he hands Zachary back to me.

  The smile on his face looks genuine, and he has the sparkle back in his blue eyes, which was snuffed out the day he lost the love of his life. He has a golden tan, his dark hair is styled in a neat slicked back quiff, and he has grown a goatee beard on his chin. He is wearing a white shirt, a purple waistcoat, black trousers, and a purple and silver striped tie. His sleeves are rolled up, and he stands there with his hands on his hips.

  “Are you just going to stand there like a spare prick at a wedding, or are you actually going to do something?” I quip sarcastically, and he cocks his eyebrow.

  “Just because you’re marrying a rich and famous rock star, don’t go forgetting your roots!”

  I hit him playfully, and my sister Eden enters the room in her purple bridesmaids’ dress. She kisses me on the cheek.

  “You look amazing, Peyton.”

  She is closely followed by Addison and the man who looked after me all those months ago, Remy Logan. Eden grabs his hand and thrusts him in front of me.

  “Look who I found lurking outside, sis.”

  She smiles deviously, and my mum looks from me to Remy.

  “Let me take Zachary, darling girl. I’ll get his nappy changed, and we’ll clear out to give you a few minutes alone.”

  I am grateful for her intervention, and she kisses me on the cheek.

  “Love you, mum.”

  She takes Zachary and blows me a kiss.

  “Love you too, darling.”

  The room is cleared within minutes, and Remy and I are left alone. I haven’t seen Remy since the day of Ruby’s funeral, almost a year ago.

  “How have you been, Rem?” I say to break the awkward silence.

  He stands there, looking all boy next door with his hands casually tucked in his pockets. His dark hair is brushing the collar of his white shirt, and his familiar russet eyes regard me intently.

  “Can’t complain, beaut. It’s been a while…you’re looking gorgeous as ever.”

  I smile shyly at his compliment. You’re still a charmer, Logan.

  “Congratulations on the birth of your son, he’s beautiful.”

  I nod, and he chuckles softly.

  “Since when did this get so awkward between us?”

  He gestures from me to himself, and I laugh.

  “I don’t know, it’s never been like this with us, Rem, ever. How’s life treating you back in Santa Monica?”

  He frowns.

  “You’re seriously asking me that when you’re standing there looking like that? You look…fucking stunning.”

  He steps a few inches closer to me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

  “Sam is one lucky motherfucker,” he curses and rests his forehead against mine.

  “I lost a part of myself the day Ruby died, but you got me through it. You were my rock, and I’ll be eternally grateful to you for that, but I’m not sorry I went back to Santa Monica. I had to get over you, and I did. It took me a long time, and a lot of bourbon, but I got there in the end. I’m ok with it. I’ve made peace with the fact that I had my chance, and I fucking blew it. I came back here today to say I’m happy for you.”

  He smiles tenderly and takes my hand gently, kissing the back of it.

  “You look nothing like the fearless five-year-old I remember. You’ve turned into an equally beautiful woman, and I’m proud to call you my friend. I know you wish Ruby was here, and I do too, but she’s with us.”

  My eyes gloss over, and I will myself not to cry.

  “Hey, none of that, beaut. Today is about you marrying Sam. It’s been a long time coming, and after all you’ve been through together, you deserve this.”

  He tips my chin up and kisses me softly on the lips as a tear slips down my cheek. He catches it with his thumb and puts it in his mouth, licking my tears off his thumb.

  “Be happy, beaut,” he whispers, and I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Why does this feel like you’re telling me goodbye, Rem?”

  He smiles and shakes his head.

  “Never.”

  He is about to speak again as the door taps softly.

  “Are you decent, sweetheart?” my dad shouts.

  “Yeah, just give me a minute, dad.”

  Remy adjusts my veil and wipes my tears with the sleeve of his jacket.

  “Perfect, now go.”

  He winks, and I smile, kissing him on the corner of his mouth.

  “Say you’ll stay, Rem?”

  He nods.

  “Try and stop me.”

  He winks as I open the door to my dad.

  This is finally it.

  ***

  Sam

  I’m standing at the make shift altar in the grounds of our house in Chislehurst, Kent. The people closest to us, our family, close friends, and a select few from the music and movie industry, are gathered here today for mine and Peyton’s wedding.

  “Are you sure this is what you want, little brother? There’s always time to back out now!” my older brother, Brandon, quips, and I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Very fucking funny, bro. You’re not helping,” I say quietly so Freddie doesn’t hear me.

  He is at the age where he’s picking up on things, and he already used the word ‘bollocks’ a few days ago.

  If Peyton found out, she’d have my balls.

  “Daddy,” he calls, and he looks so fucking cute in his little man suit to match mine.

  His hair is sticking up in all directions, and every time I look at him, I couldn’t be happier to call him my son. He comes bounding towards me, giggling loudly, and I swing him up into my arms.

  “Hey, rock star.”

  He idly plays with my tie, and Brandon chuckles.

  “That kid has you wrapped around his finger, little brother.”

  I roll my eyes at him.

  “You won’t be saying that when you have kids.”

  He lets out a ‘pfft’ sound, and I laugh.

  “I practice safe sex. I’m not a fool, I wrap my tool!”

  Freddie giggles.

  “Tool! Uncle Brandon, tool!”

  I laugh. My son is nothing if not honest even at two years old.

  Brandon folds his arms a
nd starts sulking. My dad, who is dressed in a white suit with black shirt and a make shift dog collar - he was ordained online - is going to be marrying us today. It is an honour to have the man I’ve looked up to for so many years marry us in front of our loved ones. After the loss of my mum, my dad threw himself back into his band. For the past year, the Lightning Bolts reunited and toured with us as our support act. Our relationship has become solid as father and son.

  “Today’s the day you get your happy ever after, son,” my dad says proudly, and he gives me a one-armed hug. “I’m so proud of you, Sam,” he says with awe in his voice.

  I grin wider than I’ve ever grinned, in my life. Then, his gaze shifts over my shoulder, and he nods curtly as the strains of Nickelback Gotta Be Somebody fills the air. My heartbeat starts to quicken, and the steady da-dum-da-dum feels so loud that I’m convinced that everyone can hear it. I’ve performed on stage in front of hundreds of thousands of people over the years, but never in my life have I been this fucking nervous. I swallow hard and I start to wring my hands.

  I think I’m going to throw up. Jesus fucking Christ.

  “Fuck me, little brother, you’re getting married, not facing the firing squad!” Brandon retorts, and I’m regretting asking him to be my best man.

  Prick.

  I hear snickers from the boys, but the sound becomes white noise as I turn and catch sight of her. Peyton.

  Fuck me, she looks like an angel. My angel.

  It takes everything I have to stay on my feet and not to drop to my knees in front of her. She looks ethereal, radiant…and words can’t fucking describe what I’m feeling right now. A stray tear tracks its way down my cheek as her eyes lock with mine. Blue to green, green to blue.

  Her bridesmaids, Addison, Eden, and Willow, are following close behind her, all wearing matching purple dresses. She is clinging to her dad, Max, for dear life, and I can clearly see her focussing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. I flash her a cheeky wink as she gets closer, and the smile I get in return unmans me in front of our closest friends and family. I literally burst into tears. I’ve never been this emotional or overwhelmed with happiness in my life, I feel like I could fucking explode.

  I wipe my tears with the backs of my hands as I feel a firm grip on my shoulder. I turn to see the shining eyes of my dad.

  “You deserve this, son,” he whispers softly and kisses me on the forehead, like he used to when I was a kid.

  Our moment is interrupted by Freddie turning to point at Peyton.

  “Mummy, pretty.”

  I nod.

  “Mummy is very beautiful, isn’t she, Freddie?” I manage to choke out through the tears.

  At long last, I get to take her in, all five feet three inches of her. She really is…mesmerizing. My heart stutters in my chest, and I gasp out loud at how beautiful she looks. Words can’t describe the way I feel right now; I’m struck dumb at the sight of her. My Peyton. The woman I am going to spend the rest of my life with.

  Her white dress is strapless, and the delicate neckline makes her tattoos stand out, and it compliments her curves. The sparkling silver embroidery dances down to the skirt and the dress blossoms into layers and folds of pure white silk. The way the light catches on the smooth fabric makes it look like it is dancing, making it look almost magical, and as if it was made just for her. The diamond encrusted angel wing necklace, which I bought as her something new, sits at her throat and sparkles in the summer sunlight. As her dad escorts her closer to me, my chest feels tight, and when she reaches me, I can’t help the sob that escapes me.

  Fuck me, since when I get so soppy in my old age?

  Max hands her over to me, and the look he gives me is full of warning. I nod curtly in understanding, and he winks. As she takes her place next to me, Peyton grips my hand, and I lean in close to her.

  “You look fucking breath taking, angel.”

  She smiles softly with glossy eyes, and she whispers in my ear.

  “You don’t look too shabby yourself, rock star.”

  She winks and hitches her dress up from the bottom, revealing white patent Doc Martens underneath with the words ‘Mrs Newbolt’ delicately stitched on the sides. We both laugh as my dad begins to speak.

  “Friends, family, and everyone in between, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of my son, Sam, and my soon to be daughter-in-law, Peyton.”

  We turn to face each other, and as I look into her sparkling blue eyes, I can see nothing else, no one else but her. That’s the way it’s always been, and that’s the way it will always be.

  This time it’s forever.

  ***

  Peyton

  “I take you, Peyton Leigh Harper, to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward. I promise to protect you, with everything that I am. I choose you to be my wife, my partner in life. I chose you the day I walked into Saint Sinner Ink, hungover and feeling unsatisfied with life on the road. I promise you my unconditional love, and my fullest devotion through the pressures of the present and the uncertainties of the future.”

  A tear tracks its way down my cheek, and he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

  “I call you 'My Peyton' because you are my everything. You are my light, and you've shown me more love than I've ever known. You gave me the most precious gift of all, in our sons Freddie and Alex. From this day forward, I promise to give you the best of myself and to ask of you no more than you can give. I promise to accept you the way you are. I fell in love with you for the qualities, abilities, and outlook on life that you have, and won’t try to reshape you in a different image. I promise to keep myself open to you, to let you see through the window of my personal world into my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams. I promise to grow along with you, to be willing to face change as we both adapt to keep our relationship alive and exciting. And finally, I promise to love you, in good times and in bad, with all I have to give and all I feel inside, in the only way I know how. Completely and forever.”

  As I listen to Sam brokenly rasp out his vows to me on the happiest day of our lives, I feel my pussy clench and grow unwantedly damp at the sound of his voice. I know deep down that it’s highly inappropriate, but with Sam, I can’t seem to help myself. Every look, every rasp, every fucking facet of him, deeply fascinates and captivates me. It just emphasises that I have always belonged to him, just as much as he belongs to me.

  Our eyes lock as he completes his vows, and he places my simple white gold wedding band on the fourth finger of my left hand. I smile warmly as the silence descends, and they expectantly await my vows to Sam. I swallow hard and suddenly feel an overwhelming wave of nervousness. He squeezes my hand and leans into me. He smells of his familiar Sam smell, and it instantly reassures me.

  “Pretend it’s just us, angel. Do you know how I manage to perform on stage? You. You’re my reason, Peyton, remember that,” he whispers so only I can hear as he stands up straight and shoots me a panty-melting wink.

  I’m his reason.

  My stomach does a somersault, just like it did the day he walked into Saint Sinner Ink. I take a deep breath and laugh nervously.

  “I take you, Samson Newbolt, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward. On this day, I give you my heart, even though you had it the day you walked into Saint Sinner.”

  Soft laughter comes from our guests, and as I take a deep, steadying breath, I start to relax.

  “I give you my promise that I will walk with you, hand in hand, wherever our journey leads us, living, learning, loving. I promise to be your lover, companion, and friend. Your greatest fan, and your toughest adversary, your comrade in adventure, your consolation in disappointment, and your accomplice in mischief. This is my sacred vow to you, my equal in all things. It’s you, me, and our boys now, forever, Newbolt.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding, and as I hold his stare, I notice, that his eyes are glossy with unshe
d tears. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. I squeeze his large tattooed hand in my small one as a gesture of reassurance, and he flashes me his signature Newbolt dimpled smile.

  “I love you,” I mouth, and he winks.