Brothers Ink Tattoo (Complete Box Set #1-4)

by Nicole James

  Jameson looked stunned. “What the hell is this? You resent me for it?”

  Rory huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

  “You think I’ve had it easy? I gave up college to find a way to support all of you. I raised you, provided the best way I could for you, kept this family together. And here I sit and watch you finally coming into your own, and I’ve been damn proud, man. You’re my little brother. I want nothing but happiness for you, but man, look at you. At your age I never had the success you have, and I’m watching you throw it away with both hands. What is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t fucking know, okay? It’s not… what I thought it would be. I thought I’d be happy, but I’m not. And I don’t know why the fuck I’m not.”

  Jameson ran a hand down his face and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Rory, listen to me. All the fame and money in the world won’t make you happy. You need something bigger than that, something bigger than yourself that is important to you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like being a mentor the way Max is to those kids down at the Fourth Street Gym or supporting a charity like Liam does with that animal shelter or taking pride in helping his wife attain her dream with that coffee shop or having a family of your own. I don’t know, but it has to be important to you. It has to mean something. You have to give, not just take.”

  Rory thought about his words. “They want me to take this two weeks to get my shit together.”

  “Who does?”

  “Charlotte and her manager, Lou. I guess he’s my manager now, too, but I don’t know for how much longer.”

  “Then do it. Get your fucking shit together.”

  Rory nodded. “There’s more.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Another artist bailed on his tour, and there are venues with dates available now. Lou said if I straighten up, I could either go out on the European tour as Charlotte’s opening act and get that exposure, or I could go out headlining my own American tour and fill those empty slots.”

  “Goddamn. That’s a big opportunity, Rory. You ready for that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can I give you some advice?”

  “That’s why I’m sitting here.”

  Jameson smiled. “From my experience, I’ve found there are going to be some life-changing moments that come along. Ones that, when they happen, shift things in a way you’re never the same again, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. When those moments happen, let them make you stronger; let them make you a better version of yourself. Step up to the plate and be smarter. It’s often the moment you let your true character shine. Be the kind of man you want to be.” Jameson rubbed his hands together. “You know, when Mom and Dad died, I didn’t think I could do it. There were moments I wanted to bail on all of it. Times I wanted to just crawl inside a bottle and hide from everything.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “There was a night or two I turned to that whiskey bottle. I let myself feel sorry for myself. Then I shook it off, and did what I had to do, after a while I realized I always had the strength in me, that I could and would handle whatever life threw at me, because I had to. Family is commitment and love. You have to choose to show up, and you have to choose to love each other even on days when you don’t even like each other much. But, Rory, this family doesn’t give up on each other. I’m always here for you. You know that, right?”

  Rory nodded, his throat closing around a lump of emotion.

  Jameson stared off at the horizon. “It’s a beautiful night. Unseasonably warm for February. Supposed to be a couple more of them in this warm snap we’ve been having. Not even any snow up on the plateau. You should take advantage.” He jerked his chin to the mountains.

  Rory turned his head to look. The mountains were always the place he and his brothers went to find peace when things got confusing and they needed to think or work out a problem. “You still got my old sleeping bag?”

  Jameson grinned. “It’s in the garage. If you leave now, you can make it up there before dark.”

  ***

  Rory sat in front of the fire he’d made, his eyes on the vast valley below. The lights of Grand Junction sparkled in the distance, and a full moon lit the puffy clouds that drifted past like fat balls of cotton candy in the sky.

  It was quiet, just the sound of the breeze in the trees, the crackle of the fire, and occasionally the yip of a coyote.

  Rory pulled his jacket tighter around him. He was at a major crossroads in his life. He knew that, and how he handled it would affect the rest of his life.

  It was both good and bad, depending on which hand he looked at. On one hand, he’d fucked up big time, and on the other hand, a major opportunity stared him in the face.

  Music was in his soul, but touring wasn’t making him happy. Not like he expected. It made him question all the goals and dreams he’d had since the moment he’d picked up a guitar at the age of fourteen.

  He sipped on a steaming cup of coffee from the thermos he’d brought up and let everything Jameson had said roll over and over in his head.

  Rory knew he could do without the alcohol; it wouldn’t even be a struggle. It wasn’t something he had to have; he’d just been using it as a crutch. He knew he had the strength to let that go. But he also knew he needed to start taking control. If he didn’t want a bunch of groupies on his tour bus, then he needed to lay down the law to Tommy. If the bassist wanted that shit, he could find it elsewhere, or he, too, could be expendable if that’s what it took for Rory to enjoy the road again. That wasn’t all standing between him and happiness, but it would be a start.

  Rory thought about Lou’s offer. Going out on his own, headlining his own show… That was a big deal. Huge. Was he ready for that, or was sticking with Charlotte and getting exposure in Europe the way to go?

  He tossed the remnants of his cup and screwed the top back on the thermos. Then he scooted down in his sleeping bag to get some sleep, hoping things would be clearer in the morning.

  ***

  Two days later, Rory came down from the mountains and drove to the farm. When he walked inside the backdoor, Malee had baby Grace on her hip, and Ava was there with her eighteen-month-old girl who was climbing up onto a chair.

  “Look at all these beautiful girls in one room.” Rory squatted down, and little Lila Rose squealed and stopped climbing to toddle to him on her chubby little legs. He scooped her up. “How’s my little angel today?”

  “Ro-ro,” she called, a big smile on her face. She had her mother’s fair coloring and blonde hair with one big ringlet just starting to grow at her nape.

  He kissed her cherub cheeks. “Hi, cutie-pie.”

  “Good morning,” Malee said. “We already ate lunch, but would you like a sandwich?”

  “No, thank you, honey.”

  “You just missed the guys. They left for that tattoo convention in Denver.”

  “Oh, really? I didn’t know about it. I guess I’ve been out of the loop.” He set the baby down. “I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower.”

  “Rory.” Ava stopped him, and he turned back.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did the guys ever give you that box?”

  “What box?”

  “There was a bunch of fan mail at the shop. I made them put it in a box and take it home.”

  Malee gestured toward the stairs. “Max put it on his bed.”

  “Thanks.” Rory headed up. When he walked in his room, he saw the cardboard box sitting on the bedspread. He walked over and pulled the flaps open. It was about half full of envelopes. He smiled as he ran his hand through them and grabbed a fistful.

  He sat on the bed and tore open a few. There were some sprayed with flowery perfume, some proposing marriage, some even with topless photos enclosed.

  After the seventh one, he tossed them back in the box and headed for the shower.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sasha walked into
the downtown restaurant. The sounds of clattering plates and people talking carried over the lunch crowd. She peered around until she saw Jenna and Carmen both waving at her from a booth. Striding over, she slid in next to Jenna. “Scoot over.”

  “What took you so long?” Carmen asked.

  “Traffic was bad.” She stole a fry from Jenna.

  “Hey.” Jenna smacked her hand. “Order your own.”

  Sasha peered around. “I will. Where is your waitress?”

  Carmen leaned forward. “So, what are we going to do?”

  “About what?” Sasha munched on the fry.

  Carmen rolled her eyes. “About Rayne.”

  Jenna looked over at Sasha. “She sent that letter and got no response.”

  Sasha’s chewing slowed. “That dick.”

  “I know, right?” Jenna agreed.

  “Maybe if we went with her to that tattoo shop—” Carmen suggested.

  “She won’t do it, you know that. She’s too proud.” Sasha shook her head.

  Jenna’s brows rose. “Hey, I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to beg some man to toss me scraps because he feels he has to do it. Especially some rock star.”

  Sasha locked eyes with Jenna, all joking and sarcasm wiped from her face. “That’s it.”

  “What’s it?”

  “We hit him where it hurts. He’s famous now… a public figure. Maybe we make what he did to Rayne public, too.”

  Jenna nodded. “Yeah, this baby shouldn’t be some dirty little secret to be swept under the rug so he can go his merry way with no responsibility. Fuck that.”

  Carmen lifted her palm. “Wait a minute, girls. That’s the last thing Rayne would want.”

  Sasha turned to her. “No, you wait, Carmen. Hasn’t he thrown her pain out there in public for everyone to hear? It’s his turn. Let’s see how he likes it.”

  “This isn’t a game. This is our friend’s life. She wouldn’t want this,” Carmen insisted.

  “Well, I’m out of ideas. She won’t go there. She won’t call. She wrote the damn letter, and it got her no response. You wanted us to help her, then we need to make him aware of this baby,” Sasha argued.

  Jenna looked between the two women. “Maybe we could hire an attorney—have him send a legal notification. He’d have to see that, right?”

  “Are you serious?” Sasha stared at her, stunned. Then began ticking off her fingers. “First, that requires us paying legal fees. Second, it would take time, and third—and I can’t stress this enough—I hate lawyers. Besides I think I’ve got a better idea.”

  “Okay, so what do you mean by ‘making this public?’ Take out an ad?” Carmen asked.

  “Nope. We get it on the entertainment news.”

  “What, like TMZ?” Jenna asked.

  Sasha shrugged. “Someone would be interested in this story. Someone would at least check it out, don’t you think?”

  Jenna nodded. “I guess. And how do we do that?”

  “I’ve got a friend from college who works at the Denver paper,” Sasha informed them. “She does concert reviews and entertainment stuff.”

  Jenna let out a huff. “The Denver paper is not going to run a story like that.”

  “No, but she may have contacts in LA or New York with the kind of outlet that would be interested in a story like that. Come on, Rock’s hottest new star has a love child. That’s primo stuff.”

  Carmen slouched, folding her arms. “It’s not our business. This is bullshit and I think it’s wrong. There’s no way Rayne would want this.”

  Sasha leaned forward. “When he pays her beaucoup dollars in child support, she’ll thank us.”

  Carmen leaned forward, meeting her halfway. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

  Sasha put her hand up. “Look at it this way. It’s not common knowledge, but Connor Motor Works is struggling. Rayne’s afraid she’s going to lose it all. She needs this money. Why should she have to shoulder all the financial responsibility for this child on her own? Doesn’t he owe his share? Isn’t that only fair?”

  “You’re right, but I don’t want to humiliate her,” Jenna backtracked.

  “Look, if you don’t want to be involved, fine, but I’m doing it. Or at least I’m going to try,” Sasha insisted.

  “Why would they believe you?” Carmen asked.

  Sasha hesitated a moment. Why indeed? “I’ve got that video I took of them doing karaoke together. That proves they know each other. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard for a reporter to get the information that he had a motel room at the Birchwood the same night we did. As for her being pregnant, I guess I’ll be referred to as “a reliable source.” That or they can get pictures of her—she’s starting to show, you know.”

  “Even if it goes public, doesn’t mean he’ll do the right thing, not unless she takes legal action,” Jenna reasoned.

  “Well, maybe I can sell that video to whoever will buy it and give her the money. At least she’d have something.”

  “This is wrong,” Carmen protested again.

  “No, him knocking her up and walking away scot-free is wrong! Him putting her life story in a song without even telling her is wrong! Him lying to her about being in a fucking band is wrong!”

  “Fine! Do what you’re going to do, but I want no part of this!” Carmen moved to scoot out of the booth and leave, but Sasha stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “Do not say a word of this to Rayne, Carmen. I mean it. Nothing may come of this, and there’s no sense upsetting her if it doesn’t work out.”

  “Fine.” Carmen jerked her arm free and walked out.

  Sasha moved to the other side of the booth and began eating Carmen’s fries. “You’re not walking to the door, so I take it you’re okay with this?”

  Jenna shrugged. “You’re right. We have to do something, and he needs to pay his fair share. Rayne tried to contact him, and besides, I’m still mad he blew her off and never called her.”

  Sasha smiled. “Never underestimate the power of a woman scorned—or her girlfriends to fuck you over on her behalf.”

  “Cheers to that, sista!”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The sun was setting as Rory walked into Westwood Tower and strode to the reception desk.

  “May I help you sir?” the concierge asked.

  “Can you call up to #4100 and tell Mr. O’Rourke that his brother, Rory is here.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  A few moments later, a doorman was escorting him up to the 41st floor. Liam swung the door wide. “What are you doing here?

  Rory brushed past him, his duffle bag in hand. “I’m going to try to find Rayne.”

  Liam followed him into the living area. “That chick Max tattooed?”

  “Yes.” Rory looked around the room. Jameson was slouched on the sofa, a rocks glass in his hand while Max was at the bar, pouring himself one.

  Jameson stood. “Surprised to get the call that you were downstairs.” He moved to him and gave him a one armed hug. “How are you? You work shit out in your head?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to find Rayne, the girl I wrote that song about.”

  Jameson nodded. “I see.” He lifted his chin toward the bar and guided Rory that way. “We were just having a pre-dinner drink. You want one?”

  Rory huffed out a laugh. “Is that a test? See if the drunk can turn down liquor?”

  Jameson grinned. “Maybe.”

  “I’ll have a cola,” Rory said.

  Max poured him a glass and slid it in front of him. “So, what’s your plan?”

  “I’ve got a list of motorcycle shops. I’m gonna hit each one of them. I was kind of hoping you guys would help me.”

  “Sure,” Max said.

  “I’m in,” Liam offered, leaning an elbow on the bar.

  They all looked at Jameson, who ran a hand down his beard. “Hey, look, about that list of places—” His cell phone went off, interrupting him, and he took the call. Moving quickly across the room,
he picked the remote up. “Okay, babe. Thanks.” He hung up.

  “What’s up?” Liam asked.

  The screen came on, and Jameson ignored him, flipping through the channels, finally stopping on one. They were just coming back from commercial break.

  The host of an entertainment show stood smiling.

  “As we teased before the break, we have a hot story we’ve uncovered.”

  They flashed up a photo of Rory.

  “Does rock’s hottest new artist have a secret love child? Reliable sources say the two met at a motel outside Vail Colorado last summer.”

  They played a video of Rory and Rayne signing Karaoke.

  “The woman involved is Rayne Conner, owner of Connor Motor Works in Denver. Our sources can confirm that the two were both checked into the Birchwood Motel on the same night six months ago. Which fits the timeline considering reliable sources also say Ms. Connor is now six months pregnant.”

  They flashed some footage taken at a distance of Rayne walking into the motorcycle shop.

  “You know that chick, Rory?” Jameson asked.

  Max pointed at the screen. “Hey, that’s the chick I tattooed…wait…you said she was the one…”

  Rory sat down, his gut twisting. She was pregnant?

  “We reached out to both Ms. Connor and Mr. Rourke’s management for comment but as of this airing have not heard back. We’ll keep on this story and report any”—the host gave a cute little insinuating wink—“developments.”

  “Bitch,” Jameson snarled.

  “Did you know about this, Rory?” Max asked quietly.

  He shook his head and ran both his palms down his face. He stood up, felt lightheaded, and sat back down. He whispered, “Holy shit.”

  “It won’t be long before the paparazzi swarm Brothers Ink,” Liam said.

  “Paparazzi in Grand Junction? Get real,” Max said.