by Wendy Cole
Bard’s jaw twitched. “You’re the only thought. Since the day you walked in the bar!”
I laughed again, right into his face. “Until Amber showed up. Then you acted like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.”
“I’ve known Amber since we were kids. She’s fragile. I have to be careful with her. She not strong like you are.”
That tipped me over the edge, and I lost it. My laughs bellowed out in the room and probably reached the shop. They racked my body and brought tears to my eyes. “You really believe that shit! You call this careful? You’re an ass!”
Bard released me and took a step back.
“This,” I motioned between the two of us, “can’t happen! It won’t happen! Ever.”
I turned away and stomped to the bedroom.
Bard didn’t follow, and it didn’t take long before I heard the front door close.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Bard left that night and never returned. It was a relief. I needed space; time away from the intense aura that always surrounded him. Every time he came near, it seemed to swallow me up and leave me gasping for whatever form of oxygen I could find.
Bard was like one of those ugly ass fishes that only occupied the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean. You see their little lights and go oooh pretty. You know it’s dangerous to approach, but that stupid fucking light continues to draw you in.
Bard’s light was blinding. He was an Adonis in the form of a bearded pillar of all things mysterious and sexy.
And I was a stupid ass little fish.
***
Two days after Bard disappeared, Boe asked for another tattoo. A massive tattoo. It was a dragon full of fine details and large enough to cover the full expanse of his back. I’d spent hours drawing it up, only to have him add to it over and over, more and more detail.
When he was finally satisfied, I shot him a look. “This is going to take more than one session.”
“That’s the idea,” had been his response, that cat-like smile of his full of flirtation.
In that moment, with him looking at me as if I were a pie on the windowsill, I considered turning it down.
Then, I eyed the sketch again and reconsidered. I needed the money, and Boe wanted an almost-eight-hundred-dollar tattoo.
It’d been two weeks, and we did sessions every other day. As much as I fucking despised myself for it, I enjoyed his company.
He wasn’t like most of the men I’d met in my life. Ever since Boe told me about his past, he stopped blatantly hitting on me. He made no advances, didn’t try to sleep with me. Instead, he did something that was even more outrageous.
He asked me questions.
Not personal ones, nothing too deep. Stupid ones.
What was my favorite color? To which I responded black.
What was my favorite food? To which I responded edible.
What was my favorite flower? To which I gagged.
Still, he continued, every session, question after question, never minding my snarky and blunt responses. Instead, he seemed to revel in them, finding humor in my general attitude towards the world.
This session, however, would be the last. The tattoo was almost complete. Another hour and I’d have it finished.
“You’re awfully quiet today, Jessie,” he said, turning his face to get a glance at me.
I smacked his shoulder. “Don’t do that! It jars your whole body!”
I was positioned behind him on a chair while he sat hunched on a stool with his forearms on his thighs for support.
He rumbled a laugh. “Awful testy, too.”
I smirked. “Well, I’m almost finished. Then you can focus on your own clients and never have to put up with me again,” I joked, but it was the truth.
Boe stiffened. “You can’t be done already.”
“I’m not,” I replied, pausing to wipe off the area I was working on, “but I will be in about an hour or so.”
He was quiet for a long time, and I returned my focus to coloring the dragon’s tail.
I’d just stopped to wipe it down again when Boe spoke. “Jessie?”
I paused at the sound of his voice. There was no playfulness to it, and the absence of it was so foreign, it caught my attention.
“What’s up?” I rolled my chair over so that I could see his face.
Boe’s light eyes bore into mine, his face reluctant. I watched his Adam’s apple bob once before he finally spoke. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
I froze. Dinner? That wasn’t a tattoo session. Dinner was a whole other thing entirely. “You mean, like a date?”
He eyed me for a moment as his smirk returned. “Yeah.”
“I don’t do dates.” I started to roll back behind him.
Boe reached a hand out and held the chair in place. “Did I say yeah? I meant no, not a date.” His smile widened. “C’mon,” he pleaded, “go on a not-date with me.”
I wanted to tell him to fuck off, to glare at him, to do whatever I needed to do to put him off, but instead, I laughed. I couldn’t help it. His smile, the way he said the words, it adhered to whatever good nature was still left buried deep—so deep—inside of me. I didn’t even know it existed myself. Somehow, though, he’d found it.
“Not a date?” I clarified.
If possible, his smile grew wider. His eyes lit up. “Nope. What makes you think I’d want to date you?”
He leaned towards me and pulled my chair closer.
I laughed and kicked him away. “Fine. Dinner.”
Boe made a fist and lightly jabbed the air in front of him.
“Not a date, though.” I shot him a pointed look.
“Not a date,” he agreed, his tone teasing.
I busied myself with finishing the piece and my chest was surprisingly light.
***
T shirt and jeans, T shirt and shorts, or …T shirt and jeans. Those were the options; the only things my wardrobe consisted of.
The minute I’d gotten out of work, I showered and dried my hair back to a feathery style. That had taken less than an hour, but for forty-five more minutes, I stood next to the bunk staring at the same five outfits. I paired one t shirt with one pair of jeans, another with another, and so on and so forth as if they’d suddenly become something different.
When I realized what I was doing, I growled at myself, heaped the clothes into a pile, and grabbed whatever my hands touched first. I didn’t do dates; it didn’t matter what I wore.
I dressed quickly, more than ready to be somewhere other than the empty RV; more than ready to have someone to keep me company.
The motorhome seemed abandoned with just me living in it. I didn’t bother turning the lights on most of the time, and the living space had darkened significantly along with the setting sun.
It was eerie, and my nightmares had become more frequent and much more aggressive since Bard left. The space didn’t feel the same without him. It was nowhere near as safe. I lied awake each night and listened, waited for someone to come, for them to find me.
The night played tricks on me. Numerous times I thought I saw Seb hovering in the corners, barely hidden in the shadows and back for revenge. Then I’d wake up in a cold sweat, and the dark would toy with my brain.
Maybe that was why I’d agreed to go out with Boe despite my heart’s sole focus to remain singular. It would be nice to have an escape from it all, to get away.
The front door opened, and I whipped my head towards it so fast, my neck cricked.
His large imposing form was unmistakable. Bard threw his keys down onto the counter and flipped on the light.
I froze. Why was he back? Why was he here? My heart thundered against my ribcage, and I suddenly felt like a kid playing hide and seek with my seeker dangerously close to success.
Regardless, I knew I couldn’t stay in the hallway forever. Boe was probably already waiting for me.
Tentatively, I made my way down the dark hallway and into the living space.
“I didn’t know you were here. None of the lights were on,” he said, that deep voice of his hitting me like a drug I’d been deprived of.
“I’ve been leaving them off.” I shrugged. “So you’re back?”
Bard continued to study me, his eyes landing everywhere, drinking in each inch. “Yes.”
I offered a tight smile. “Well, welcome home. I’ll catch you later.”
Bard jumped up and blocked my path before I could make it past him. “Where are you going?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Out.”
“I’ll come with you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and asked why even though I already knew the answer.
“It’s not safe…”
“I won’t be alone.”
His expression went blank. “Who else is going?”
I smiled. “Boe’s taking me to dinner.”
He paused for a long, drawn-out moment. “He’s taking you to dinner.” His jaw twitched, barely detectable. “Are you…with him now?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not with anybody, Bard. It’s just dinner.”
“With Boe, it’s never just dinner.” He hadn’t moved an inch, but he suddenly felt much closer.
I stepped back and met with the wall behind me. Once again, I was cornered.
We really needed a bigger place. This was fucking ridiculous.
Bard closed the gap between us, and my stupid body responded. A flush of heat cascaded from my head down to my toes, and my breath caught at the sensation.
It was too much, too tempting. I needed to stop it, and in desperation, I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. “Maybe you shouldn’t wait up then, huh?”
Another twitch, although barely noticeable, set off right at the corner of his jaw.
Storm clouds raged within those dark eyes of his, and his fingers curled as if ready to reach out and grab me.
I leaned back until I was flat against the wood paneling.
Bard took in the reaction and pulled away. His eyes shot to the ceiling, and the same hand fisted at his side.
Tension made the air seem to fizzle and crack, and I held my breath as I waited for what would happen next.
Bard turned his eyes back to me and stared, looking like he wanted to say something, or maybe he wanted me to say something, I wasn’t sure which.
Whatever he wanted must not have happened because with each passing second, his eyes only sharpened more.
“I really don’t want you to go,” he murmured. “Stay.”
I snorted. “I’m not cancelling my plans because you randomly show up and want me to play goo goo eyes with you.”
He turned away from me. “Fine.”
He didn’t look back, nor did he make another move to stop me. He flopped back down at the booth and filled his glass to the brim. “I guess have fun then.”
Dammit. How did he do that? I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I’d told him there could never be anything between us. He left! But for some fucking reason, I felt…guilty.
Well. Fuck that. “I’m sure I will.”
He emptied the glass and slammed it down, his other hand gripping the bottle too tight.
I walked away before my stupid brain convinced me to stay.
I had a not-date waiting for me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I found Boe in front of the shop leaned against an old, rusted Chevrolet pickup. While the truck looked ready to collapse, Boe did his best to make up for it.
Dark washed jeans hugged him in sin, and a solid black button down with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and just the right number of buttons left open donned his upper body. He’d gotten a haircut, buzzed it all until the hair on his head held the same clean lines as that across his jaw. He looked good, too damn good.
I looked down at my own outfit. “Should I go change?” I bluffed, knowing damn well I had nothing better to put on.
His lips curved into the same grin he always wore. “You look good enough to eat.”
I ignored him. “You cut off your hair.”
“I did.” He ran his palm over the top. “You like it?”
“You look different.”
“I feel different.” He studied me with an expression that I saw on him for the first time. It was soft, almost reverent. He stepped over to the passenger side and pulled the door open. “Let’s get you fed.”
I climbed in and watched as he circled around. A heavy silence settled between us when he got in, and it lingered as he pulled out of the driveway.
It wasn’t until we made it to the main road that he spoke again. “Jessie, I have a confession to make.”
I stared at his profile and waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. My heart rate doubled. Both of his hands stayed glued to the steering wheel; his eyes locked on the road. There was no expression at all on his face.
“What is it?”
Boe turned to me and grinned. “This is most definitely a date.”
A breath of air flew from my lungs, and I laughed. “Don’t be so damn serious when you do that. It freaked me out.”
His grin widened as he turned his face back towards the front.
I returned to studying his profile. “It’s not a date.”
“Yes, it is.” He flipped on his blinker and made a left. “You don’t know it yet, but I’m gonna marry you one day.”
I snorted. “No, you’re not.”
“Don’t worry. There’s no rush. I’ll give you plenty of time to realize how perfect we are for each other.”
I laughed and focused my attention on the passing scenery. The sun had finally set, painting the world in darkness. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass and looked at the stars. Maybe this was a bad idea. I liked Boe, genuinely liked him. He wasn’t perfect, and he didn’t pretend to be. The more I got to know him, the more I realized how sweet his center was. He had good bones. He’d been shaped as a child, taught and molded. His fucked-up was superficial. It never really affected who he was.
But that wasn’t me. I’d been crafted by hardship. I was never taught, never guided. I’d shifted around like a stray, and it left me wild and feral. Even now, my life was a mess, and he seemed to be looking at me in a long-term type of way.
Bard was dangerous because I wanted him too much. The attraction I felt for him was almost physical like fucking gravity.
Boe was safe in that aspect. While I liked him, it wasn’t anything too dramatic. He was sexy, that fact couldn’t be denied, but he just didn’t have the same effect.
Could I really be that person? Lead him on and waste his time?
I turned away from the view and looked at him. No, I couldn’t. He was too good for that. “This isn’t a date, Boe. It can’t be. We’re friends and that’s it.”
He shot me a look and made another left. “Whatever you say.”
I ground my teeth. “I’m serious. Trust me, I’ve got baggage. You don’t want to get mixed up with me.”
“I’ve got plenty of my own. I don’t mind adding more.”
Welp! He wasn’t listening. “Where are we going?”
“Little place I like to play pool on the weekends. Thought we could shoot a game. They have pretty good food there.” He turned onto another road. “It’s just ahead. We’re almost there.”
A bar came into view, and my heart skipped and spluttered. My blood stopped pumping. It froze inside my veins, expanded like ice, and my fingers and toes curled in as if they too were being locked into place. I slouched into my seat.
Bikes surrounded the building. “I can’t be here.” I stared at each one, eyed the few people that lingered around them. “Drive away.”
Boe pushed the gear into park and turned to face me. “Why? You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. It’s really about the pool tables.”
“It’s not that. I…” My words caught in my throat. The front
door to the bar slung open, and a group of bikers exited. All of them had the cut. I’d recognize it anywhere.
When the last man stepped out, I flung myself into the floorboard. “Drive the fucking truck!”
Drake was less than twenty feet away from me, and my mind immediately went to panic. My lungs collapsed. The cab of the truck was too damn small, and there wasn’t enough air. I was suffocating.
Boe studied the men for a moment before finally pulling the truck back into drive and moving away. “Do you know them?” he asked once we made it back onto the street.
I couldn’t speak. Adrenaline rapidly flowed through my body as if it were being pumped into it. My heart beat like a drum. It was too hard. I clutched my chest and grimaced.
“Jessie?” He reached over to me.
I pulled back. “Take me home.” Each word was a rasp, barely spoken at all.
He nodded and pressed down harder on the gas.
The ride fell silent as Boe focused on getting us back. He seemed both confused and upset at the same time. I remained curled into the floorboard with pictures of everything Drake would do if he caught me swimming through my mind. Seeing his face, that close…he’d almost done it. It had almost been the end.
He would take me back there―to the room. Would he question me about Seb? Would he know?
More memories played out: the whip, the burns, and the beatings. “I can’t go back there,” I whispered to myself.
“We’re almost back to the shop,” Boe said. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
I didn’t listen. I couldn’t. It was all white noise. My mind was far away and distant, in another place, another life―a nightmare.
When Boe stopped the truck and jumped out, I didn’t move. I was too afraid to look. He had been right there, right next to me.
The passenger’s side door wrenched open, and large arms wrapped around and pulled me out.
“What happened?” Bard murmured, carrying me back towards the motor home.