by Nicole Reed
“You’re goin’ to kill us, Hels. Goddamn it!” He jerks the wheel to the right and the car swerves, careening us in our seats as he pulls over to the side of the road. Millions of tiny grains of sand fly up to pelt our windows, momentarily spraying us. Somehow between blows of my fists, he shifts the gear into park.
“He had his whole life in front of him and you took it. You took it,” I cry, my world fading away behind the tears that fill my eyes. “His days are gone, Mikey. All gone.”
He roughly grasps both my wrists, wrestling me away from him. “It was club business. I didn’t take shit. Fuck you, Hels. I didn’t even know what they planned.”
I have to ask; I have to know. “Did Hold know what was going to happen to Jake?” The fight dies inside of me along with Jake.
He doesn’t answer at first. “No, he didn’t. I thought they would only scare the kid, not kill him.” Mikey releases me to move back to his seat. “You know, I’ve talked to Hold about you this entire time.”
His words surprise me. I knew he had talked to him, but he made it sound like it wasn’t about me.
“The bastard only worries about you,” he says, laughing. “I don’t understand it. What is it about you that turns one of the hardest asses I know into a giant pussy? I don’t get it. It would fuckin’ kill him to know you’re hurtin’ right now. He’d want to be the one here. He’d make sense out of this fucked-up mess.”
To my shock, he sounds upset at the club’s actions. We drive in silence the rest of the way. Nothing left to say.
“If I get on one more spinning ride, I am going to be sick,” I say, walking beside Vin. I carry the stuffed pink bear he won for me, shooting a basketball into a lopsided hoop. His fingers intertwine with mine, joining our hands. Colorful flashing lights surround us, as the smell of sweet fried foods saturates the air. The sights and sounds of the carnival unleash a youthful spirit usually trapped deep within me. Everything seems brighter and clearer than ever before.
“One more,” he says, bringing the back of my hand to his mouth for a slow kiss. The entire time he stares into my eyes. “Come on.” He tugs me along while I playfully whine, following him.
“I really don’t think I can. You are the one who made me eat the whole candy apple.”
“I made you eat it?” His eyebrow lifts, questioning my accusation.
He quickly stops, bringing our forward movement to a sudden halt. My body intentionally slams into the hard muscle of his, stealing the breath from my lungs. His mouth covers mine, and the feel of his lips makes me weak in the knees.
“I can taste the sugary coating on your tongue,” he says, sampling me with every kiss.
The world goes on around us. I close my eyes, savoring the touch of his lips and the sounds of screams and laughter filling the air. The moment is one of beauty, deeply appreciated by someone who doesn’t have very many happy childhood memories.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He moves back from me. “C’mon,” he says, winking. He pulls me along with him.
The sound of a girl’s tinkle of laughter catches my attention as she runs by us. She looks so much like my sister Tara. Her blonde hair flies behind her, floating on the wind. She stops, glancing back at something. Her eyes find mine, and she smiles before turning to run with her friends. I close my eyes, my heart at peace for the first time in forever.
At the sound of Vin clearing his throat, I look up to see where he is taking me. The Ferris wheel looms majestically in the night sky. It soars above all of the other rides, its cherry-red metal frame slowly revolving with its occupants seated in colorful basket chairs, swinging precariously at different intervals. He digs in his pocket for our remaining tickets before handing them to the machine operator.
Neither of us says anything as we wait in line. I am captivated by the monstrous ride, watching it slowly rotate to amazing heights. The two teenagers in front of us step up for their turn. The girl giggles as she sits down, while the boy looks entirely too anxious as he joins her. The operator steps back after latching them in and once again the Ferris wheel churns.
Finally, it’s our turn. I sit down, more excited than scared. Vin sits snuggly beside me, his warmth welcomed. He takes the bear from me to lay it on the other side of us. I feel his fingers linking our hands once again.
“Here we go,” he says, speaking softly into my ear.
My eyes close at the husky sound of his voice. The slow jerk of the wheel starting to turn makes my heart leap and a small sound escapes me.
“Shh,” he whispers. “I got you.” He maneuvers his body where he can wrap both of his arms around me. I grip the top of his thigh with one hand. His jeans brush against the side of my bare leg where my short jean skirt rides precariously upwards.
A soft breeze gently blows my dark hair that has grown out past my shoulders. The layered camisole top doesn’t cover much, so I snuggle deeper into his arms. The higher we climb, the more my body becomes aware of his. I glance up to see the two teenagers making out above us. The romance is not lost on me.
As we slowly spin to the top, the entire carnival is spread out across the land below me. People rush around, living and loving every minute of it. I am learning to do that, but not until this second do I realize that it’s also beneficial to step back to see the big picture. My eyes find Vin. It’s him. He is the reason that I have come alive. I take my time, leaning closer to him, letting him see in my eyes what I can’t say out loud. He makes me want to give instead of take, a first for me.
When my lips touch his, everything drifts quietly away. He amazes me. I am so in love with him, with the way he makes me feel. My nails scratch up and down his jean-covered thigh. I move closer and closer to him with every touch and his body reacts, growing for me.
“What are you doing?”
“Making you feel as alive as I do.”
“Oh, believe me, I am feeling all kinds of alive,” he says, kissing me back.
We miraculously stop at the very top. No one can see down at what we are doing inside our swinging carriage. Cinderella has nothing on me—I get the ride and Prince Charming before midnight. Our seat rocks with every little movement, especially when I turn my body so that I am facing his. My nimble fingers unbutton the top of his jeans, unzipping them with the same smooth move.
We stare at one another, not letting this moment pass us by. Both of my hands grasp the top of his jeans and boxer shorts, slightly pulling them down for easier access. I trail my finger down his exposed thick member. If his hiss is any indication, he is feeling this intensely arousing experience with me. My fingers don’t waste a single second, surrounding his width, while stroking his length. He grips the sides of the chair, holding on.
At the sound of his moan, my head lolls back, enjoying the ecstasy that I am bringing him. The moon shines full and bright in the night sky, witnessing my sensual act. As I touch him, carnal images fill my mind of what he will do to me later—his hands rubbing and invading my most secret places. My body floods itself with its own juices and I have to squeeze my thighs together to calm the erotic clenching deep inside. I glance back at Vin.
We still aren’t moving, so I up my game. Leaning over, I replace my hand with my wet mouth. My tongue spirals around him as I go down, increasing my suction on the way back up. I repeat my movements. My mouth must bring him insurmountable pleasure—I can tell by the subtle rocking of his hips and the glazed expression in his eyes when I glance up. Our seat rocks back and forth, intensifying the sensations rippling through my body.
The Ferris wheel jerks back to life, the movement centering him deeper in my throat. My tongue sweeps the tip with every upward movement, licking the pearly drops over the head. Our chair starts a slow descent, but I don’t stop, my mouth increasing its speed. Any moment now we could be caught by other passengers above us looking down, but I still don’t stop. My eyes lift to his, playing a type of chicken, daring the other to be the first to stop this hedonistic act.
“Fuck,” he say
s. His hands grasp my arms, pulling me to him, hiding his body with mine from prying eyes. “You are crazy.”
His kiss smothers my winning smile. The feel of his body, trembling with unleashed pleasure from my actions, creates a fervent satisfaction inside of me. The Ferris wheel’s rotation does not stop for us to savor the experience. Time is a factor. He quickly pulls his pants up as I look around to see if anyone got an eyeful.
“Keller.”
I glance over at him.
“I…” he says, stopping to look down at his hands. “I… Damn it.” His hand wraps around the back of my head, pulling me to him. Our lips touch. He gives me sweet, soft kisses. “We are getting off this ride and finding somewhere to be alone.”
My arms encircle him, my body completely in tune with his. He is showing me tenderness, maybe even love. Or it could be me imagining things I can only wish for. I lose myself in him as the wheel continues to spin.
“I am almost finished, Keller.”
Billy finishes up last-minute touches on my new tattoo that she’s been working on for the past five hours. The ribcage is one of the most sensitive spots to have a needle touching it repeatedly, but it was the best spot for the one I designed. My body is almost at its breaking point from the regimented pain. It is designed to be a simple black and gray tattoo at first glance, until you see all the line work. It is a very heavily detailed piece.
“So I am guessing by the tattoo that things are going good,” she says, speaking over the hum of the machine.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I say, smiling to myself. I do that a lot lately—smile when I think about Vin.
“I see that smile, girl. It looks good on you.”
What can I say? If he isn’t finishing up restoration on the house, he is spending time with me. He even makes me happy when we argue, which is often. He is demanding and bossy, but only because he is ensuring that I am living my life. And I miss him like crazy since he’s been gone. He had some issues that he had to deal with because of the company.
“Not to rain on your parade, but have you talked about what you are going to do when he finishes the house? Are you going with him?” Billy lifts her foot off the pedal, silencing the machine.
I shut my eyes, acting like I am dealing with getting the tattoo when the truth is, I can’t think about it. I know things are changing between us. When we make love, there is a desperation in the way we touch each other, almost like it will all end at any minute, which I guess it will, sooner than later. He has been different since we attended the carnival last week, quieter. Then he had to leave to go back home and since then, no phone call. I refuse to call his cell phone, even though my finger hovers over the send button daily.
Billy returns to tattooing me when I don’t answer her. I wish I knew. He hasn’t asked me to go with him, but I have thought about it. What better time to move on? I have stayed here longer than I expected. In fact, I have broken every cautionary promise I made. I can’t regret it. He has been worth every single experience and Ginger has been the friend I have always wanted. I’ll even miss Billy.
“Take a look in the mirror. See what you think,” Billy says, finishing my tattoo.
My side hurts like a bitch, but I ignore the tender skin to stand and walk over to look in the mirror. Wow.
“I have to admit that is some beautiful ink,” she says, standing behind me.
I nod, incredibly happy with my design and her skill: a minutely detailed Ferris wheel with small carriage seats dotting the entire circumference. The line work and shading are impeccable. This is where I realized what I felt for Vin. I look in the mirror at my reflection. The tears of happiness that appear in my eyes mark me more than the tattoo. I don’t think I have ever cried because I am so happy.
Billy pats my back before turning around to clean her station, giving me a second alone. I try to imagine my life if I had stayed and I can’t. I’m not sure I would even still be on this earth. There is so much I need to tell him—not my secrets that I will take to my grave, but the danger that follows me even now. No one could possibly understand why I would protect them, but I have a reason. One single, solitary reason I would sell my soul to the devil before breaking a promise.
“So the guys are giving Hold the full homecoming with a ride, huh?”
I look over at Diamond as we sit by ourselves at Hard Ink. My fingernail is almost chewed to the quick. I was specifically told I wasn’t invited and Diamond volunteered to be my caretaker for the day. It’s been my life for the last several months—I can’t leave the house without a chaperone.
“Yeah, they’re picking him up when he is released. Then there is a huge party at the clubhouse. Mikey said that it is strictly a club deal,” I say, biting a different nail.
“Quit doing that,” she says, slapping at my hand. “Your nails are going to look like shit.”
“I am over all this, Diamond,” I say, my voice devoid of any emotion.
“Honey, trust me. You don’t want to see him the first day out of the slammer. He is probably going to be horny as hell. Let him spend himself on hookers and liquor. Then you can have him when he is more rational.”
“That isn’t what I mean. I don’t care if he takes a hundred girls to his bed. I don’t want in this life anymore. I can’t live like this. I am dying inside.”
“Helen, honey, don’t say things you don’t mean. Living is sure as shit better than dying and that is the only way you are getting out of this life,” she says, brushing my hair back. “Why don’t you let Auntie D trim your hair? It needs it.”
I shake my head no, but there is something she can do. And since the shop is empty, it’s a perfect time. “Diamond, I want a tattoo. But we have to find a way to conceal it on my skin. Can you help me do this?”
She glances at me then away, before shaking her head. “What do you want?”
“I want an outline of the shape of a football and inside of it we need to do some scrolling lines that somehow secretly read the number seven. Can you do this?”
“What does it mean?” Her voice sounds tired.
“It doesn’t matter and it’s better that you don’t know. Please.”
She shakes her head, and for a second I believe that she is refusing to tattoo me. But then she stands, walking toward her chair.
“Well, are you coming or what?” She turns to look at me with her hands on her hips. “We need to finish before anyone comes in.”
The tears gather in the corners of my eyes, and I show her the gratitude that I feel. I walk over and sit on her chair.
“Where do you want it?” I point to my triceps and she rolls her eyes. “You are a glutton for punishment. No. You don’t want any ink below your thighs, right?”
“No,” I say. It’s just a personal preference. The lowest tattoo on my body is my Hell’s tat.
“Okay, you never wear your hair up, so let’s do the back of your neck right under your hairline. I’ll actually shave a little so that when it grows back it will help camouflage. I can do it small and sneaky enough that no one will notice outright—like they would on your freaking arm, unless you plan to wear long-sleeve shirts in summertime. Geez, child. I do worry about you,” she says, preparing to give me the tattoo.
It only takes her a little over an hour, but when I’m looking at the reflection in the mirror she holds up, I see the magic she created. It looks like a sleek oval with tribal markings inside, but the lines carefully and cleverly combine to create the number seven. Jake’s football number. It’s small enough to fit on the back of my neck and my hair hides it completely. And unless I point out the design the average person isn’t going to figure it out.
“Thanks, Diamond. You are the only true friend I have.”
“Hels, you could have it all. You already have the mark and the man, and if you played the game right, the money is starting to roll in for the club. What you have sure as shit beats being poor and alone out there in this big, old world. It isn’t so bad here. You’ve ju
st been thrust into a situation that seems desolate, but it could be so much more.”
“I’ve tried. I only get those around me killed, D. What does it say about me if I turn my back now on everything that has happened?” I glance over at her as she cleans her area.
“It says you don’t want to get your own self killed, missy,” she says, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “It says that you want to have a future with a family—pretty little babies that Hold will surely give you. And the price is steep, I get that, but so is death. That is a finality that doesn’t have a happy ending for anyone. Most of these MC guys love you, even after everything that has gone down. Hell, they even respect you because of your talent. You can still be the matriarch of this club that you were meant to be. It’s not too late.”
I watch her as she slowly walks up to me, stopping only inches away. She leans her mouth down close to my ear.
“And you want to know something? When you’re queen and Hold is king someday, you get your revenge then. You hold it tight and quiet within that great, big old heart of yours, and one day you can release it for your vengeance. It’s always about waiting for the right time. You understand what I’m sayin’?” she whispers.
I nod. I understand exactly what she is saying, but in this rough life that we lead, my vengeance may be extracted by someone else long before I get the chance. In my mind, I know she is giving me good advice. The problem is that I can’t close my eyes or heart to what has transpired. There is one too many bodies lining up at my expense.
The next four days pass with only one message from Hold, which Mikey snidely relays. He will call for me when he is ready to see me. I swallow my pride. Not that I expected us to pick up where we left off, but I thought the friend in him would have missed me… because I have missed Hold. In more ways than I ever imagined. I miss the way we used to talk long before he went to jail. There is also a strange part inside of me that hungers for a taste of his body.