The North Star

by Wendy Cole

  “You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “Just…what the hell happened?”

  I took a deep breath. I couldn’t tell him, not everything. As much as I liked him, I just couldn’t put that much faith into him yet. It was better for him anyway. The less he knew, the safer he would be.

  “Listen. There are things about me you don’t know. That baggage I was telling you about. Please don’t ask me to get into detail about it because I can’t.”

  “Does Bard know?” He made the question sound so important; I didn’t want to answer.

  But I had to.

  “Yes.” I cringed as the line fell silent. “Boe?”

  “What is he to you?”

  “Who? Bard?” I looked over to see him sitting at the table with his back to me and his shoulders stiff. His right hand clenched the bottle so tight, I thought it might break.

  “He’s just a friend, Boe. The same as you. I’m not looking for anything more than that.”

  Boe fell silent.

  Bard visibly relaxed.

  “I’m sorry about what happened. I didn’t mean for you to have to deal with me freaking out, and I definitely didn’t want you to get into a fight. I’m still not even sure what the fuck happened between you two.”

  “He wants you. Hell, I’ve seen him more since you showed up than I have the years I’ve been working here. You may say he’s your friend, but that’s not all it is to him.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s wrong.”

  There was another lengthy silence, one that made me long to see his face. I hated phones. I needed facial expressions and body language. A phone left far too much unsaid, and I needed to hear it all.

  “Don’t worry about any of this, Jessie. I don’t blame you.” He seemed way less angry than he had when he left, but he still wasn’t his normal self.

  It wasn’t good enough. I needed to make it right. Boe, whether I’d known it before or not, had become someone I relied on. He was a friend, a real one. He was someone with enough baggage to not judge, and the unique ability to make me laugh.

  “So…I’m gonna see you again, right?” I bit my lip.

  “Do you want to see me again?” he asked, his voice teasing and more familiar.

  I breathed a sigh. “Yeah.” I smiled.

  “Good. Because, otherwise, marrying you could get real awkward.”

  I laughed. “I’m not marrying you, Boe.”

  “You say that now, but…”

  The phone was yanked from my hand.

  Bard hit the screen and shoved it back into his pocket.

  “What the fuck, Bard?”

  “What? You said you were sorry. For what, I have no fucking idea.”

  “You’re a dick.” I glared at him. “Whatever. I’m going to bed anyway.”

  “Tequila?”

  I stopped, hands fisted, shoulders stiff. “What?”

  “I need your help with something.” He sat down sideways at the table and let his long legs stretch out across the floor in front of him.

  I hesitated. “What is it?”

  “I want a tattoo. I was hoping you’d do it for me.”

  My eyes widened. That wasn’t the question I’d been expecting.

  “Um…sure…of course. What were you wanting to get?”

  “You are never lost,” he said, his voice low as he grabbed the bottle beside him, “across my chest.”

  He wouldn’t look at me anymore, and when he pressed the bottle to his lips, the drink he took was far heavier than any I’d seen him take before. I swear the man would end up with alcohol poisoning. I stepped forward and yanked it from his hand.

  “Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.” I set the bottle back on the table. “We can do it tomorrow if you want.”

  Bard reached both arms behind his head, and before I could even register what was happening, he gripped his shirt and pulled it away.

  I swallowed hard, stared, then swallowed again. Holy mother of God! Sweet baby Jesus on a cracker! My brain dissolved into a puddle.

  I’d seen him before, but he seemed more massive than I remembered.

  Bulk, lots of it. An eight pack, a fucking eight pack, and golden skin.

  He’s a fucking god.

  “Can we do it now?”

  I couldn’t look away. “Hm-mmm?”

  “Can we do it now?” he repeated, slower this time.

  “Yes, please.”

  He chuckled, and I snapped my eyes to his face. Shit! “Um, I mean. Yeah. The tattoo. You um…” I stuggled to keep my eyes up. “I uh…I don’t, uh…have a gun or ink or anything.”

  “I borrowed the stuff from Zeke. It’s in the bedroom.”

  “The, um…bedroom?”

  The bedroom, the bedroom, the bed. My God! This was unfair.

  “I’ll go get it,” Bard offered and stood. It gave me a better view, an amazing view. The temperature in the room rose at least twenty degrees. Why was it so hot? Sweat beaded along my forehead and across my chest. I shook out the collar of my shirt. I needed air.

  “You alright, Tequila?” Bard stopped right in front of me. “You seem a little off.”

  His chest was at eye level now. Way. Too. Close.

  “I’m good.” I swallowed again.

  “Hey.” He tilted my chin upwards. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  Before I could stop it, his arms wrapped around me, and my face was pressed against all that glorious, glorious skin.

  I’d never been so tempted. I laid my hands against his ribs. Just once, I could touch him once. It was just a hug, a friendly hug. God, it was a really nice friendly hug.

  When the hair on his chest tickled my nose, I pulled my head back. Bard looked down at me with a small smirk on his face. He was laughing. He knew exactly what he was doing. It helped to snap me out of my stupidity.

  I glared at him. “You want a tattoo, or what?”

  A laugh rumbled his chest, and he made no move to release me. Instead, he lifted a hand and gently ran the back of it along my cheek. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry. You know that?”

  “I must look pretty damn good most of the time then, because you never fail to piss me off!” I pulled back and smacked his hand. “I’ll get the stuff. You just sit in that fucking chair right there!”

  I jabbed a finger towards the booth and stormed away.

  His laughter echoed behind me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The tattoo gun and supplies were in plain sight on the bed, but I still lingered. I needed a moment to calm myself. Heat once again radiated from my neck to my face, and no matter how hard I wished, it wouldn’t go away.

  “Why?” I whined. Why did he have to be so attractive? Why did my brain abandon me every time he got too close?

  “Did you get lost, Tequila?” Bard called from the living room. He sounded amused. Damn him.

  I couldn’t show my face to him, at least not until it returned to its normal color.

  “Just a second,” I called back, my voice strained. I wanted to kick myself. I wanted to reach deep down, snatch inner Jessie by the throat, and shake her.

  “Okay.” I took a deep, calming breath through my nose, then blew it out slow through pursed lips. “You’ve never done yoga, or meditation, or any other shit like that, but…you better figure it out,” I breathed again, “right now.”

  Great. I was talking to myself. I’d lost it. He drove me crazy.

  Another, in through my nose and slowly out through my mouth. Then, again. My heart rate slowed. Okay, this was good. I took another deep breath in and blew it out slowly.

  “Whatcha doin?”

  I let out a shriek worthy of a police visit.

  “Fuck!” I glared at him and clutched my back-to-racing heart. “Don’t do that!”

  Bard smiled, and if that wasn’t enough to undo all the work I’d done, he darted forward and laid a big kiss onto my cheek.

  “Don’t do that, either!” I wiped it away and scowled at him. “You
must not want a tattoo.”

  His smile widened. “I do. That’s why I came looking for you.” He stepped around me and flopped down onto the bed, placing his hands behind his head and smiled that gut-wrenching smile at me. “We can do it here. There’s an outlet right under the shelf.”

  I swallowed hard again at the sight of him, all stretched out on a bed and half naked. Damn.

  Thankfully, this time, I was better prepared to deal with it. No way would I be able to handle it for the entire tattoo session, though. Nope. Did I look like a saint? Well, I was not, nor had I ever been saintly.

  “Living room.” I pointed; my expression as stern as I could manage.

  His eyes crinkled. “Yes, ma’am.” He lifted himself back up, gathered the supplies from the mattress, then slid off the edge to stand right in front of me. “After you.” His voice was deep, a caress against my ears.

  Just two words in that smooth tone, and my ovaries exploded. I bolted down the hallway as if the bedroom was on fire which it damn near was.

  “Sit.” I stood as far as I could away from him and clung to the much-needed space as long as possible.

  Bard didn’t make a sound as he took his place. He stretched his legs out the way they’d been before and stared at his feet.

  I plugged the gun into the wall and set everything out on the table. “What did you say you wanted?”

  “You are never lost,” he repeated, his tone soft. He ran a finger across the left side of his chest.

  I let my eyes roam over him once again and noticed something my hormone-crazed brain had overlooked before.

  “Don’t you have any other tattoos?” I searched, but every inch of that golden skin was unblemished.

  He shook his head. “That makes you my first, Tequila.”

  I ignored his comment. “I assumed you’d have tons.”

  “Never really wanted one.” He shrugged. “Truth is, I don’t like needles that much. I might need you to hold my hand.”

  I smirked at him. “It would be kind of hard to tattoo you while holding your hand.” I eyed his chest. “You’re gonna have to shave that.”

  “I was hoping you’d do it for me.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Not gonna happen. Go in the bathroom and shave that shit off.”

  His lip twitched as he lifted himself from the table and casually sauntered by.

  I busied myself with planning how I would do the lettering. They needed to be bold, dark, and masculine if they were going to suit him.

  You are never lost. Like everything else that had to do with Bard, curiosity hit me. What did it mean? Or more specifically, what did it mean to him?

  Five minutes later, he walked back out with a small bare patch on his chest.

  “Did you make sure to clean the area really good?”

  “Yes.” He sat back down and waited patiently, his face impassive.

  He seemed almost sullen. His whole demeanor shifted. I lifted a brow at him. “Did you get bad news in the bathroom or something?”

  I grabbed the gun from the table and held it in my hand.

  “No.” Another short answer.

  I bit my lip and considered questioning him further but decided against it. “Alright then. You ready?”

  He nodded.

  It was as if he’d been transformed, back to the man I’d first met at the bar. It was better for me anyway. He was sexy enough with no shirt to cover all that manliness. There was no need to add that smile to his face. A girl could only take so much.

  “You are never lost?” I verified.

  He nodded.

  I placed a hand on his shoulder. With no chair to sit on, I was forced to simply crouch down in front of him, positioning myself between his legs. It was the only way to get a good angle.

  This was a terrible idea.

  Bard stared down at me. His face was too close and his eyes were like magnets.

  I swallowed hard and turned on the gun. “So…what does it mean?”

  He shuddered when the needles touched his skin for the first time.

  “You really want to know?” His tone was low and slightly strained.

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” I picked up some more of the ink and worked it into the Y.

  “When I was a seven, my dad started teaching me how to navigate the land: how to track, how to hunt, how to survive.”

  I focused on the piece and listened to him. Everything about him drew me in, fascinated me. I didn’t understand it, but I couldn’t resist the temptation of learning some new part of the mystery.

  “He taught me how to use the sun, the moon, the wind, the trees. You can use all of it to direct yourself.”

  I finished the You and wiped it down before starting on the A.

  Bard paused his story to watch me. “You look so natural doing that…like you were born for it.”

  I kept my eyes on the artwork and tried to ignore the heat returning to my face. “Thank you.”

  Bard rumbled a laugh then left me alone. “When I was nine, he and Zeke dropped me off in the middle of our land and left me there.”

  My eyes shot to his. “They just left you? Like alone in the fucking mountains?” I stopped tattooing and sat back on my haunches.

  He grinned. “Yeah. It was scary as all hell. There’s bears up there, ya know? I’ll be level with you, Tequila. I damn near pissed myself.”

  How the hell could he seem so easy about that? “That’s fucked up.” I shook my head.

  He shrugged. “Once I realized they weren’t coming back, I started tracking them, and I found my way home.”

  “Still fucked up.” I lifted myself back up to continue the piece.

  “When I made it back, I told him so. My dad. I yelled at him, told him I hated him for abandoning me. Told Zeke I hated him, too.”

  I finished the Are, and started on the N.

  “He let me yell, let me scream, let me get it all out of my system, just staring at me.”

  “Sounds like you,” I commented without thinking.

  He snorted a laugh. “I guess so.”

  I looked up, and he smiled at me.

  “When I was done, he knelt down in front of me, looked me right in the eye, and said, ‘You are never lost’. I didn’t know what he meant at the time, but I think I’m finally starting to figure it out.”

  We sat in silence for a while, and I managed to make it to the word Lost.

  “So?” I couldn’t take it anymore. “What does it mean?”

  “It means,” he leaned forward, face close, gaze level and open, “no matter what happens, you can always navigate your way back home, Jessie. You are never lost.” His eyes bore into mine.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “That’s beautiful, Bard.” I looked away, then finished up the last bit and wiped it all down. “What do you think?”

  He looked down. “It’s perfect.”

  “Great.” I smiled at him. “Let me bandage it up for you, then I’m gonna head off to bed.”

  “Tomorrow,” he said.

  My brows furrowed. “What about it?” I grabbed the A&D ointment and rubbed some of it onto his skin.

  “We’re leaving tomorrow. For the mountains.”

  I froze. “I said I’d think about it.”

  He released a sigh. “There’s nothing to think about, Jessie. It’s the safest thing. For everyone.”

  I clenched my hands into fists. He was right. Damn him. Seb had come so close. Drake had been so close. If anything happened to the people here, it would be all my fault.

  “It’s temporary right? We have a plan?”

  “Yes. We’re gonna finish this, Tequila.” He sounded so confident, so determined.

  I knew staying wasn’t an option. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk these people, and if Bard was right, this would be the smartest move.

  I gave a stiff nod. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Packing the cheap worn backpack was nostalgic. When
I was a kid, it’d been a constant when I went to a new foster home, when I ran away, or when they’d ship me off to the group home. After a while, I just stopped unpacking. It was easier, safer.

  The thing about foster care that most people didn’t know about was when you leave, or when another kid leaves, the rest turn into scavengers. Nothing was safe, and you better believe more than one kid had been beat down for something small; basic like a jacket or a t-shirt.

  The memory of myself decking a girl for trying to steal my pencil flashed to the forefront of my mind.

  People didn’t know how it felt to be packing yet another bag, leaving yet another place, knowing how stupid I’d been to allow myself to get attached. I knew better. More than anyone. Yet…here I was.

  I didn’t even let my mind touch on the fact that I was leaving with Bard. My disillusioned brain wouldn’t admit that our destination was secluded, alone, far away, and dangerously private.

  I shook my head and shoved the last bit of my clothes haphazardly into the pack.

  “All set?” Bard appeared in the doorway, then moved to take the bag from me.

  With memories of another life so fresh, I instinctively jerked it away from him.

  He took a step back, lifted his hands, and studied me. “I’m not going to steal it.”

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry.” I handed it over. “Some habits just don’t die.”

  Gaze never wavering, he murmured, “They will.”

  Then he moved past me and out the back door.

  I took a deep breath. We hadn’t even left yet, and my nerves were like jumping beans inside my stomach.

  “I’m gonna go say bye to everyone!” I called, already headed in the opposite direction.

  The first person I searched for was Mr. Frankfire. I found him sitting in his new usual spot, leaned back in a chair by the backdoor of the shop.

  “Hey, old man.”

  He looked up and shot me a toothy grin. “Hey, girl. You ready to work?”

  I closed the remaining distance between us. “I’m leaving actually. Bard is taking me into the mountains.”

  His eyebrows shot upwards. “Why the hell would you possibly want to…” His voice trailed off, and a crooked smirk tilted his lips. “Ahh, I see.”