Tempest of Change

by Jacie Douglass

  “You’re all done, Sweetheart. Would you like to see?”

  “Definitely!” I grin. Samil stands and helps me to my feet. Tattoo Guy motions to a mirror hanging on the door and hands me a large hand mirror. I stand as directed, using the hand mirror to see my new tattoo reflected behind me. Samil’s design sits above the scars, starting at the base of my neck and circling down between my shoulder blades. It looks fantastic and I squeal in delight.

  “It’s terrific! Thank you!” I say happily, throwing my arms around Samil’s neck, my cheek against his bare chest. He stiffens beneath me, and I freeze. Shit, was that the wrong thing to do? Ohh Fuck, I’m half naked and pressed up against him. I’m about to let go and apologize, when his arms wrap around my waist, and he rest his forehead against mine.

  “Don’t thank me, Em,” he breathes. I sigh happily and let myself enjoy this rare moment in Samil’s arms. “I’d do anything to keep you safe,” he whispers so quietly, I almost miss it as a feeling of strength and safety wash over me.

  Tattoo Guy clears his throat. “I hate to break up you love birds, but I need to get that ink covered. Then I’ll get you taken care of, Samil.”

  I pull back from Samil, heat flooding my cheeks at Tattoo Guy’s assumption. I glance at Samil, waiting for him to correct the artist, but he just gives me a cryptic smile. Brushing his hands down my arms, he steps back and moves past me to lie down on the table. He covers my tattoo in clear plastic wrap, and then heads back to his stool to prep his equipment. I grab my shirt and move to put it in.

  “Hang on,” Samil’s voice stops me, and I glance over. “Come here. Let me help you so you don’t get it caught on the wrap.” He stands back up and takes the shirt from me. Motioning me to raise my arms. I follow his directions as he circles behind me. His energy brushes my skin as he brings the shirt down my arms and over my head. I barely contain a gasp of pleasure as his hand brushes the back of my neck just above the wrap. Logic tells me he’s just making sure my shirt won’t catch on the wrap, but my body lights up like something else is going on. He carefully lowers the fabric over the tattoo, before reaching around to move it down my chest. I grab it before he gets a chance, and pull it down the rest of the way. The idea of his hands that close to my breasts making my cheeks flame and my heart race.

  “Thanks again,” I manage in breathless whisper. Another soft touch to my shoulder and he’s moving back to the table. Tattoo Guy keeps his face carefully averted through our exchange, going through his supplies. Clearing his throat, he turns the tattoo gun back on.

  “Should I go check on the guys?” I ask, suddenly nervous. Samil holds out his hand to me.

  “Stay. Sit with me,” I slip my hand in his and sit down. The tattoo gun buzzes in the background as Samil stares at me. I shift in my chair, trying to come up with something to talk about. Of all the guys, Samil is the one I know the least. I wish I had stories about my life off the island to share with him, if only to break the silence.

  “What are you thinking about, Em?”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “I was wishing I had stories could share with you.” I blurt out, embarrassed.

  “I can tell you another story,” Samil offers and I nod eagerly. “The first time I saw you, your hair was pulled up in long, white blond pigtails, and you were wearing a blue dress covered in mud. It was the beginning of summer, the hottest day we’d had so far, and the guys and I were supposed to meet up at the cove to go swimming. Clay, Ian, and I were already there on the beach, and Jared had gone to find Bast. Bast’s parents split up right after New Year’s, and he’d been increasingly quiet and withdrawn ever since. We were afraid that with the summer here and no one forcing him to leave the house, he’d disappear completely, so we’d agreed to take turns making sure he showed up. I’d been praying every night for a solution to help Bast.”

  “That day they broke through the trees, swinging you between them. Jared was arguing that you were clearly a pixie, and Bast was convinced you were a wood sprite. But he was smiling and laughing, and I knew in that moment we’d been sent an angel.” Samil's eyes never leave mine as he speaks, his voice low and intent. My heart pounds in my chest and my throat feels like dust. “You spent the afternoon with us. Playing in the ocean, dress and all. It was that day that I really believed there was something more out there, even if I didn’t know what it was. At the end of the day, we all walked you back to where Jared and Sebastian originally found you in the woods. You waved goodbye to us, then disappeared into the trees. It was only after you were gone; that we realized you hadn’t told us a thing about yourself, not even your name.” Samil’s voice drifts off, a soft smile curling his lips.

  When he starts speaking again, his voice is back to normal. “We spent the rest of that first summer with you in the woods or at the cove. And when you weren’t with us, we were investigating the mystery of our pixie wood sprite. It wasn’t until the last week of summer that you finally told us your name. It wasn’t until the next year that Bast discovered you were his neighbor. Or that we realized you had been sneaking out to play with us.”

  I’m stunned. Nothing I’d learned about my life before the “incident” led me to believe I would have been sneaking out of the house as a child to play with strangers in the woods. It has me once again reconsidering everything I’ve been told about myself since waking up in the hospital. Although it did make more sense in the context of who I felt I was, rather than who I was told I was supposed to be. I can feel Samil watching me, as the tattoo gun continues its steady buzz.

  Why did he share this memory with me today? Why not when the school year first started? Was it because of the intense energy that had been building in the room between us since Tattoo Guy started working on my tattoo? Ugh, why couldn’t Samil be easier to read? At least I now understand the nicknames Sebastian and Jared insist on calling me.

  “All done,” Tattoo Guy suddenly announces, breaking me out of my thoughts. I glance at Samil. He’s still watching me appraisingly, his eyes looking more green than hazel at the moment. “Take a look, Samil.”

  It’s like all the air rushes from my lungs as Samil finally looks away from me, giving Tattoo Guy a nod as he takes the hand mirror and positions himself to look at his new ink. I keep my eyes averted, no need to get caught staring at his chest again.

  “It looks great, CJ.” Samil tells him, moving back over to let Tattoo Guy finish wrapping his new tattoo. Samil pulls his shirt back over his head, and I move to grab the back before it can hit the plastic wrap,

  “Let me help,” I say, gently pulling down the back of his shirt the same way he helped me, careful to keep the fabric from disturbing the wrap. Once the shirt is safely down I step back.

  “I’ll text you what I come up with for the wings, did you want a specific bird, or shall I experiment?” Tattoo Guy asks.

  “Experiment, but I’d be interested in seeing what you come up with for a falcon, owl, and phoenix.” Samil replies, grabbing the water bottles and taking the small bag Tattoo Guy offers him.

  “I’ll go over the aftercare with Em. Thanks man.” They bump fists and then Samil slides his hand in mine and leads us back out to the front. The other guys are lounging around the lobby, shirtless with their wrapped tattoos visible.

  “I didn’t realize this was a shirt free zone.” I laugh to cover my embarrassment. Sebastian grins, moving over to wrap his arm around my shoulder.

  “We wanted to see where everyone decided to put theirs.” he says maneuvering me towards the twins. I pull Samil along with us. “Check them out.”

  WTF are these guys doing to look like this? If I didn’t know better, I’d think they spent all their time at the gym and drinking nasty veggie smoothies. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, as I try to keep my gaze on their faces.

  The twins had theirs put on their chest, Jared’s on his right pec and Ian’s on his left. I fight to keep my gaze from drifting down their chest to their low slung jeans.

  “Nice,” I murm
ur. “Did you discuss the mirror image effect before hand?”

  “No,” Ian admits. “It just happened that way.” He smiles, pulling his shirt on, thank goodness. Jared just smirks, practically doing a reverse strip tease as he redresses. Sebastian spins me around to face him indicating his right side where his tattoo sits low on his hip. OMG how are his pants not falling off.

  “Nice, right?” he winks. I shake my head and push him away.

  “Yes, Bast, very nice. Now put on your shirt and pull up your pants before they fall off.” Sebastian wiggles his eyebrows and smirks.

  “Don’t lie to me, Sprite. I know you like the view.”

  I punch him in the arm and he cries out in mock pain. Turning away I look around the room for the last of my guys. Clayton is relaxing in a chair by the window, his shirt off too, except that his tattoo is on his right bicep.

  “Did you even need to take your shirt off?” I ask, eyebrow raised.

  Clayton flashes a grin. “Nope, but everyone else had theirs off, and I didn’t want to be left out, Trouble.” I roll my eyes, working to suppress my laughter.

  “You guys are nuts.” I shake my head.

  “Maybe, but we’re your Nuts!” Sebastian quips back, and I look over to catch him pulling his sweats up higher on his hips and tightening the drawstring before pulling his shirt back on.

  “Come on, we’ve got some time before we need to catch the ferry. Let’s grab something to eat.” Samil suggests opening the door and stepping out. Sebastian drops his hand to my lower back guides me to the door. The rest of the guys trailing behind.

  We load back into the van, and head out. We end up at a small independent pizza place. The guys grab us a large booth at the back and put in an order for pizzas and drinks. They are talking about their tattoos and discussing possible future ones when the pizzas arrive. I grab a couple of slices of pepperoni for myself before the vultures can descend. The table falls silent as they devour their food.

  “So Sprite, are you going to be able to make it to our away game next week?” Sebastian asks, after putting away half a pizza. WTF?!? If I ate like that I wouldn’t be able to stand afterwards let alone walk.

  I shake my head. “Probably not. It’s two hours away, not counting the ferry ride. Besides, I thought I you didn’t want me going anywhere alone.”

  “You wouldn’t be going alone, Em,” Samil interjects. “If you want to go, you can ride with the Twins. Or we can talk to Coach and see if we can skip the bus and all ride together. Ask him if you three can ride on the bus with us.” I roll my eyes at them.

  “Ugh, a bus full testosterone. Yah, I think I’ll pass on that.” I say, shaking my head. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll stay home for this game.”

  “At least think about it,” Jared presses. “It will be fun! We can take a road trip. And Ian and will be there to protect you.”

  “Ok, ok,” I throw up my hands in exasperation. “I’ll think about it. Although you’re all being ridiculous.”

  “Do you have any plans with your Mom for your birthday?” Ian asks, and I flash him a smile for changing the subject.

  “I haven’t seen her in a couple days, and she didn’t say anything,” I start, pausing as I remember the card in my purse. “Damn, I almost forgot.” I pull out the envelope and rip it open.

  Happy 18th Birthday!

  Is emblazoned in hot pink across the top, with a cheesy image of a white birthday cake below. I open the card and start reading. I feel the blood draining from my face as I stare at my Mom’s precise handwriting, trying to comprehend what I’m seeing. There is a buzzing in my head and the guys’ voices sound muffled as though coming from far away.

  “Are you ok, Emmy?”

  “Pixie?”

  “What’s wrong Sprite?”

  “Come on, Trouble, talk to us.”

  “Grab the card Bast. Em… Look at me, Em.”

  The card is pulled from my fingers and a hand cups my chin, turning my head. Someone is looking at me with concern, but I can’t process it.

  “Give it here Bast,” comes a low growl.

  Emilienne,

  Your Father and I have given this much thought and now that you are eighteen, you are no longer our responsibility.

  I’ve made an appointment for you on Monday at 4pm at the offices of Blackmore & Sons. They will go over the details of your trust, as well as assist you with the legal aspects of the summer house.

  It is clear our Emilienne died back in May and we can no longer keep pretending she’ll return.

  By the time you read this, I will be gone. Please do not contacting us. Have a nice life.

  Julianna Langmore

  Silence falls, leaving nothing but a hollow emptiness inside me.

  Glasses and plates rattle as something smashes onto the tabletop. Arms envelope me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

  “Are you kidding me?!?!?”

  “How could she just abandon our Sprite?”

  “Come back to us, Emmy.”

  “We’ve got you, Trouble. We’ll take care of you.”

  “We need to get her out of here. Clay, go start the van and bring it to the door. Bast, flag down the waitress and make sure the bill is taken care of. Ian, log in and check the footage from the last two days. Find out if her Mom really has left the island. Jared, grab her other arm and help me get her to the van. We don’t need to draw any more attention than we already have.”

  Chairs scrap and shuffling feet moving away.

  “Come here, Pixie. Let us help you.”

  An arm encircles my waist, lifting and sliding me along the bench. Hands under my arms, pulling me into a standing position. A firm hand on my lower back, steadying me.

  “Come on, Angel” a voice whispers. “You can do this.”

  A large hand engulfs mine, slowly leading me forward while the hand on my lower back remains steady.

  “Is she alright?” a woman asks.

  “She just lost her parents. She’s in shock right now. We’re so sorry if we caused a disturbance.”

  “Oh no, that’s terrible. You boys take care of her.”

  It’s suddenly colder and I’m shaking, tears rolling down my cheeks, but I can’t find the energy to wipe them away.

  “Get in, Jared, and I’ll pass her to you and Ian.”

  I don’t have time to register my empty hand before I’m off my feet, floating in strong arms. We’re moving again.

  “Careful of her tattoo.”

  More hands touching me. My head resting on a warm chest. The steady beat of a heart. Hands slowly stroking my hair. Arms wrap around my middle.

  “Do you think we can make the three o’clock ferry?”

  “We’ll be cutting it close.”

  “Did you find anything, Ian?”

  “Nothing today, but I’m going back to yesterday’s footage. There’s been no movement or access at the house since we left.”

  “It’s going to be ok, Pixie. We’ve got you.” Comes a whisper in my ear.

  I lean in closer to the warmth, closing my eyes. I let the darkness take me.

  ∞

  I’m floating again.

  Distant whispers vie for my attention but I push them away.

  What’s wrong with me?

  Why don’t they love me?

  How could they abandon me?

  Emotions well up and I slip back into the darkness.

  ∞

  Soft touches and voices tug at me, pulling me back. I try to fight it, but the darkness slowly recedes and reality presses in.

  “That’s right, Pixie, open your eyes for us.” Jared coaxes, and my eyes flutter open. Ocean blue eyes meet mine. “That’s our girl.” His lips curve into a genuine smile. I try to remember where we are, but his face fills my vision, distracting me.

  “Where?” I try to ask, but my voice comes out muffled and broken.

  “We brought you home, Em.” I hear Samil reply and feel his energy, but I can’t see him. A hand strokes my calf and
I look down to catch sight of him near the end of a bed, my bed. My feet rest in his lap. Sebastian’s sitting next to him, his legs drawn up against his chest with his chin resting on his knees. I catch a glimpse of Ian, watching me over Jared’s shoulder. The warm protected feeling against my back tells me Clayton must be behind me.

  “I don’t think my bed is big enough for all of us” I manage to rasp, and they respond with halfhearted chuckles.

  “We should have gotten you a bigger bed for your birthday”. Sebastian teases, and I laugh roughly.

  “Maybe for Christmas?” I return, trying to ease some of the tension radiating from them. Their laughter is more natural this time, but I feel the darkness tugging at me again. “I’m sleepy. We should have nap time now.” I mumble. “There are plenty of empty rooms for you guys. You don’t need to be cramped in here.”

  The guys exchange glances. Samil finally stands up, his eyes never leaving my face.

  “I’m going to pick out that room you promised me, Em,” Samil says, giving the others a weighted look. Clayton groans and his warmth retreats. Sebastian looks between me and Samil, clearly conflicted. Grumbling he climbs out of the bed.

  “I’m staying with Pixie,” Jared says defiantly, locking eyes with Samil. Ian sits up and nods.

  “Ian too.” Jared adds, speaking for his brother, who’s already disappeared from my line of sight.

  “Mmmk, but I reserve the right to kick one or both of you out if you start to snore.” I tell them closing my eyes again.

  “Night, Sprite.” Sebastian calls as the light clicks off.

  “Sweet dreams, Trouble.”

  “We’ll talk in the morning, Em. Get some rest.”

  The bed sinks down as Ian crawls in behind me, burying his face in the back of my neck, his hand on my hip.

  “No more worrying us, Emmy,” Ian breaths against my skin, causing chills to run down my spine.

  “No promises,” I answer covering his hand with mine. “Sleepy time now. No more talking.”

  Jared stays silent, his forehead resting against mine, his hand moving to cover mine and Ian’s.