by Nicole James
“I never meant to hurt him. I should have told him the truth from the very beginning.”
“Yes, you should have.”
“And now it’s too late.”
“It may be. I don’t know, but I hate to think anything is beyond hope.”
“I hurt him so badly. He was afraid to open up and take a shot with anyone for fear of being hurt. And that’s exactly what I did. Now he won’t even speak to me.”
“I think both of you are miserable right now. Perhaps that’s a good sign.” Ava studied her quietly a moment. “Do you love him?”
Velvet nodded, her eyes flooding with tears. She tried to fan them. “I promised myself I was done with crying.”
Ava chuckled. “Sweetie, we women are never done with crying. Not when it comes to men.” She reached her hand out and touched her arm. “I heard he tattooed you.”
“Yes. He’s good at what he does, and he knows it, but not in a cocky way, in a confident way.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Ava agreed.
“He can talk to me about things I know nothing of, but he does it in a way that doesn’t make me feel stupid.”
“Why would he want to make you feel stupid?”
She shrugged. “Most people aren’t so kind. In my experience, at least.”
Ava gave her a soft smile. “I’m so sorry he’s being stubborn now.”
“I know Liam doesn’t want to see me. That wasn’t why I came.”
“You said you wanted to talk to Jameson.”
“I can’t make it right with Liam, but at least I can right the wrong done to Brothers Ink and give Jameson the money my mother conned him out of.”
“I see.”
“Do you think he’ll talk to me?”
Ava stood. “Come with me.”
Velvet followed her out of the break room and up an open staircase. Ava paused at the top and put her finger to her mouth, indicating Velvet stay quiet.
The upper floor was all one open plan office. There was a huge desk at the far end set in front of a large window that looked out over the street. Jameson was sitting in a chair, his back to them, facing the window and talking on the phone.
Ava motioned her forward and tiptoed toward him. Velvet stopped in front of the desk while Ava crept around, slid her arms around her husband’s shoulders, and kissed his neck.
The chair rocked, and Velvet heard the man tell whoever was on the phone that he’d have to call them back. Then he yanked his wife around to land in his lap.
She squealed.
“Well, this is a nice surprise, baby girl.” He nuzzled behind her ear, his hand moving over her hip making a beeline toward her breast.
Ava caught his wrist, halting his progress just in time. “Um, darling, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Let ‘em wait. I’m suddenly really busy.”
“Baby, she’s standing right there.”
The chair rocked as Jameson swung his head around, and Ava scrambled off his lap.
“What are you doing here?”
“Darling, be nice,” Ava warned.
“Liam isn’t here, and if you’ve come to plead your case with me—”
Velvet laid the check on his desk. “I just wanted to give you that. I wanted to try to make things right, you know, for the money my mother conned you out of.”
Jameson glanced at Ava, and then picked up the check, scanning the front. “You’re giving this to me?”
“Yes. I signed it over to you.”
“And why is Inked Up magazine paying you a grand?”
“That’s not important.”
Jameson’s brows rose. “Yeah, I think it is.”
Velvet sucked her lips into her mouth. She was so hesitant to tell him this part, but knew he wouldn’t let it go. “Ryan Kelly paid me for my story.”
“Your story?” Jameson tossed the check on the desk. “And what story is that? How you walked in here an underage minor and got ink?”
She shook her head. “No. He swore that would never be revealed. That was part of the deal.”
“Deal?”
“If I gave him my life story, he promised not to include it in the article about Brothers Ink.”
Jameson’s jaw tightened. “You just keep comin’ back around like a bad penny, don’t you?” He jerked his chin toward the check. “You think this makes everything okay?”
“I know it doesn’t. Nothing can make it all okay, but I have to try to make things right, to make amends. Maybe that amount of money doesn’t mean as much to you now as it did back when you were first starting out, but it’s a lot of money to me, and I need for you to take it. For me, if not for you.”
“Jameson—” Ava started, but Jameson raised his hand, stopping her.
“You’re right. It was a lot of money back then. Damn near broke this place.”
“I’m so sorry. Please—”
“All right! Fine. I’ll take your money. We’re square. Now we’re done here.”
Velvet looked from him to Ava, who stayed quiet, but did it with a sympathetic expression on her face. Velvet nodded and backed away from the desk. She wanted to run, to dash down the stairs and flee toward the front door, but she forced herself to hold her chin high and walk out with all the grace she could muster.
***
When she was gone, Jameson ran a hand over his jaw. “Nothin’ worse than a liar. I hate what she did to Liam.”
“I know you do.”
He pulled Ava onto his lap again. “And I hate that she ruined the good mood I was in five minutes ago.”
Ava ran her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. She had a way of being able to calm the beast in him. It was one of the many things he loved about her. “Umm. That feels good.”
“She loves him, baby.”
“I don’t want to talk about her, Ava.”
“Liam should give her a chance to explain.”
“Liam should run his own life, and you and I should stay out of it.”
“Jamie—”
“Ava, I mean it. Don’t go getting involved.”
She stopped massaging his head and lay her head on his shoulder, breathing out a sigh. “I hate when love doesn’t work out.”
He cupped her head and played with her curls. “And I hate that my brother is devastated.”
“I know. That’s why we should try to get them back together.”
“No, it’s not.” He tilted her face up to his. “I mean it, Ava. Liam’s a big boy. He’ll get past this. He’ll find someone else.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think he will. You didn’t see him, Jamie.”
He frowned. “And when did you see him?”
“I went over there before we opened up. There was a nearly empty bottle of Jack on the coffee table, and he looked like hell.”
Jameson lifted his chin toward the stairs that Velvet had gone down. “And she did that to him, Ava. Why would you want him back with her?”
“Because they love each other.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “They work it out, then fine, they work it out, and I’ll accept that fact, but I’ll be damned if I’m helping that along. No, ma’am.”
“Jamie…”
“How about you stop concentrating on your brother-in-law and give your husband some attention?”
***
Velvet walked back to House of Ink. On the way, she made a decision. With things over between her and Liam, she no longer had a reason to remain in Grand Junction. Leaving would require money, and she’d just given most of everything she had to Jameson.
She would need more, and she knew exactly where she was going to get it. Vano owed her money, but she knew hell would freeze over before he ever gave it to her. He wouldn’t want her to leave again, and he’d make sure she didn’t have the means to go.
So, that left her one option. She’d take it, either from the register or from the safe.
The O’Rourke’s obviously didn’t want her
in town anymore, and she wanted to get away from Vano, his illegal activity, and his creepy cohorts. In actuality, Liam was the main reason she’d stayed as long as she had. She knew all the reasons for leaving made sense, but still, somehow it felt like she was running. And that was a feeling she absolutely hated. It seemed like her whole life, as far back as she could remember, her family had been running from town to town, keeping one step ahead of the law.
She wished she could put a stop to Vano’s con game against the seniors. Turning him into the police crossed her mind, but her whole life she’d been brought up that gypsies didn’t rat on each other, and they stayed away from the law.
She’d have to figure that part out when she was safely away from Vano. For now she needed to concentrate on getting the cash and leaving.
Vano had two guys working for him slinging ink; an old guy named Cooter, and a young punk named Finn. Neither of them were very good, but they had one quality Velvet was grateful for today. They minded their own business and left her alone.
When she walked in the shop, both had customers and barely gave her a look, except for Cooter’s offhanded remark.
“You’re late, Vee.”
“Sorry. Is Vano here?”
“He’s in the back.”
Velvet’s eyes strayed toward the hallway. He must be in the office, down the hall past the supply closet, the piercing room, and the bathroom. She moved behind the front counter and over to the register. Glancing surreptitiously over her shoulder, she saw both men had returned to what they were doing, paying her no mind.
Music blasted from one of their stations and it covered the sound as she popped the register open. She frowned. They’d only been open maybe an hour, but the register was stuffed full of money—way more than they could have possibly taken in this morning, especially with only two artists. Was all of this flowing in from the cons Vano was running?
My God.
She thumbed through a stack of hundreds. There had to be over two thousand just in hundred dollar bills.
“What are you doing?”
She nearly jumped out of her skin, turning to see Vano standing behind her.
“You scared the crap out of me.”
“What are you doing, Velvet?” He grabbed her arm, yanking her from the register.
“I was just going to break a five for the vending machine.” She tugged on her arm, but his grip was tight and twisting. “Vano, stop. You’re hurting me.”
He backhanded her across the face. “You stealin’ from me?” He shook her violently. “Huh? Huh?”
The tattoo machines cut off, and the men looked over.
Vano’s eyes cut to them, and he released her with a shove.
She stumbled backward, her hand coming to her burning face. “I swear I wasn’t stealing.”
He shook a finger in her face. “You better not, either. I keep a close count.”
“What’s with all the money, Vano?” she snapped.
“None of your business.” He slammed the drawer shut. “I need you to run down to the post office and bring the mail from the PO box.” He held the key out to her. “And be quick about it. You hear me?”
“Do it yourself!”
He grabbed her arm again, yanked her close, and growled low in her face. “You want more of the same?”
Her eyes went past him to Cooter and Finn, who sat stock still, watching, but apparently unsure whether to intervene. In the end neither had the guts.
Vano twisted to look and snapped, “Get back to work! This doesn’t concern you. This is family business.”
The machines immediately clicked back on and the furtive glances of the wide-eyed teens in the chair watched them.
“When are you planning to pay me? You’ve obviously got the money.”
“Go do the errand! I’ll give you your pay when you get back.”
Violet yanked her arm free, eager to leave the shop, even if it was to run his damn errand. She grabbed the key from him and fled. Out on the street, she touched her hand to her aching face once more, wondering if it would leave a mark. It just proved that she had to get out of town as soon as possible.
***
Vano stood at the register, his hands on the counter, watching Velvet leave. He’d lost his temper, and he hadn’t meant to. When he’d seen her thumbing through the stacks of money, he’d panicked. One of Skin’s dealers had dropped it off, and he hadn’t had time to take it to the safe, so he’d stuffed it in the register. Skin should know better than to have them dropping drug money off during business hours. What a bunch of idiots he was mixed up with.
“Problem?”
He spun to see Skin leaning against the wall of the hallway, his arms folded and a smirk on his face.
“No,” Vano snapped. “Everything’s fine.”
Skin strolled up to Vano and got right in his face. He towered over him by at least four inches. He growled softly so the others couldn’t hear, “She’s been snooping around. You better pray she doesn’t find out what the fuck her dear old brother’s been up to. It’d be trouble for all of us. And you go treatin’ her like that, she’s gonna want to take off. Besides, I told you already, she’s gonna be mine. What’s mine, no one touches.”
“She’s not going anywhere. She’s going to keep doing the deposits, and you’re going to keep your mouth shut, and everybody stays happy and healthy.”
Leaning down, Skin hissed, “You better pray that’s what happens. ‘Cause she causes us trouble, I don’t care how hot she is, I’ll get rid of her permanently. We understand each other? You clear on that?”
“Crystal.”
Skin jerked his chin to the back. “Got another kilo to cut up. I’ll be back tonight after closing.”
Vano watched him saunter to the backdoor, wishing again he’d never hooked up with these assholes in prison.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Velvet walked the four blocks from the shop to the Post Office. Cool air hit her as she opened the glass door. A few people stood at the service counter to the right as she turned down the hallway where rows and rows of metal PO boxes lined the wall. There were so many, they went down and around the corner. She took out the key Vano had given her and searched for box 1492. It was the second row from the bottom down at the end. She cursed as she squatted down to open it, mumbling, “You couldn’t get a box on the top row, could you, Vano? No, that would be too convenient.”
Inserting the key, she opened the door and grabbed the stack of envelopes. When she did, she was shoved up against the wall from behind and her arm was twisted painfully behind her.
“You’re under arrest for federal mail fraud,” a deep male voice barked in her ear.
Out of the corner of her eye, several men in blue windbreakers materialized—from where she had no clue. She tried to twist around, but they kept her face smashed against the metal boxes as someone frisked her. She was sure she’d have an imprint of box 1488 pressed into her cheek. They didn’t let her move until they had her hands cuffed. Then someone quickly read her the Miranda warning. She was pulled around and found herself face to face with a good-looking man in his thirties, dressed in a dark suit and tie. He was clean cut and had a swarthy Mediterranean look about him, but what stood out most was the FBI badge he flashed in front of her face.
“Bag up the mail,” he ordered one of the other agents standing around her, all in blue windbreakers with FBI in large yellow lettering. Two of them grabbed her upper arms and hustled her down a back hall.
They moved out a rear entrance to several waiting black SUVs. She was put in the back seat of one. The man in the suit climbed in the front seat with the driver while two of the men in windbreakers climbed in on either side of her.
They didn’t take her to the police station as she’d expected. They drove her just down the street to the Federal Building. She was brought in a side entrance and taken up an elevator to the third floor. When the doors opened, her eyes landed on the big FBI seal on the wall. It was intimidating
as hell, and she was scared to death.
They manhandled her down a hallway, through a large office and into a small room with a table, two chairs, and no window.
One agent un-cuffed her hands from behind her back and cuffed one wrist to the metal arm on the chair while the other stood guard in the doorway. When she was secured, they left without a word.
“Don’t I get a phone call?” Velvet called out as the door closed. She glanced around. There was a camera up in the corner aimed at her. She couldn’t help sticking her tongue out at it.
She sat there, fear coiling in her stomach, and she thought she was going to be sick.
She didn’t even have money for an attorney. Would Vano get her out of this? Who else could she call?
She was left alone for a good long time, long enough for her mind to go over every stupid decision she’d made that had put her here. She should have left town when Ryan Kelly handed her that check. She should have told Liam everything right from the beginning. She should have never agreed to come to Grand Junction with Vano in the first place. Hell, she should have never met him for breakfast that day in LA.
She huffed out a laugh and shook her head. It wouldn’t have mattered. He’d already gotten to Aaron and taken all her money. At that point, there was no way he was leaving LA without her. He’d already set his plan in motion to get her back in the family fold.
She’d been so stupid.
The door opened, and the FBI agent in the dark suit walked in with a file folder tucked under his arm. He set a Styrofoam cup of coffee in front of her along with a handful of little packets of cream and sugar and a stir straw.
“I’m Special Agent Sanders.” He sat in the chair across from her, tossed the folder down, and nodded to the steaming cup. “I didn’t know how you took it.”
“Thank you,” she said, reaching for it eagerly.
“I can be civil. This doesn’t have to be unpleasant for you.”
Her brows rose. “I’m cuffed to a chair and charged with… What was it you called it? Federal mail fraud? It’s a lot unpleasant.”
He fought a smile. “It’s not you we want, Ms. Jones. I know you’re just a pawn in this game. We want the mastermind behind this little con.”