by Tina Saxon
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her, moving away from the haunted reflection and slide into the hot shower.
“Feel better?” Max asks when I wander into the living room. I stare at him, dumbfounded. If he expects a hot shower will cure everything, he’s an idiot. He throws his palms up. “Just asking. Don’t kill me for being concerned.”
I don’t care if I hurt his feelings. I don’t care that he’s concerned.
I just don’t care anymore.
While I’m preparing a cup of tea, he informs me he’s going to take a shower. I watch him stroll out of the room and the only thing I can think is, leave. As soon as I hear the shower turn on, I rush around the room, grabbing my backpack and slip my shoes on and debate sneaking into the bedroom to grab my clothes.
No. I need to leave now.
I glance around the room one last time and I notice a small pad with hotel letterhead on the table next to the couch. Peering back toward the bedroom, my stomach twists. He’s done so much for me, the least I can do is leave a note.
I scribble words on the paper.
Please don’t search for me.
Thank you.
Tink.
“He knew where you were.” Addison squeezes my hand, pulling me from my story. It seems like it happened a lifetime ago.
I grin softly. “I know. Well, I know now. He mentioned he was keeping tabs on me.”
“Don’t even get me started on how furious I am at him for not telling me.”
Part of me is thankful he didn’t. I needed to do this on my own terms and being away from her allowed me to prove to myself that I can do things on my own. If she would’ve found me early on, we would’ve ended right back where we were. Me dependent on her.
“Why did you stay away for so long though?” I shrug, embarrassed to admit my reason. Her brows furrow. “I just don’t understand. I get you were in pain and having to deal with the unimaginable. But I, of all people, understand that.” I stare out across the living room, away from her questioning eyes. What Addison went through, being kidnapped, beaten, and raped, makes me feel ashamed of going away.
“At first, it was easier to forget about everything living out there, but in the process, I lost a bigger part of myself. I kept thinking I would find myself if I stayed just a little longer. And, in a way, I did. I just regret what I sacrificed to get there.” She stares at me, waiting for me to explain why I stayed away from her. I wring the tissue around my fingers, casting my eyes down. “I hate admitting this, but I was jealous. You had everything. I was left with nothing.”
She gasps. “Really? That’s how you felt?”
Pinching my lips together, I nod and finally look at her. “At the moment, yes. But my mind was filled with desperation to be needed during a time of distress.”
She leans back into the cushions and cast her gaze up to the ceiling. “And I wasn’t there for you.” She rolls her head over. “Do you hate me?”
“Oh my god, no! I thought you hated me.”
“Never.”
She pushes forward and swings her arms around me in a tight hug.
Warmth from my heart mending flushes through me. I know it’s just the beginning because my breaks are deep, but I haven’t felt this at peace in a year.
Chapter Seven
Sydney
When the front door flies open, we both turn our heads. A toothless smile spreads across Lulu’s little face. “Sydney,” she squeals, running at me with arms wide open. Her overzealous hug knocks us both back into the couch. Hearing her excitement alone makes me regret not doing this sooner.
“Oh my gosh, you’re getting so big.”
She pulls back and looks at me. “I missed you so much. I didn’t think you were ever coming back. Mom kept saying you were, but it’s been forever.”
I hold her face in my hands. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her call Addie mom. Lulu deserves the best after witnessing her parents’ murder and she got it with Aiden and Addison. “I missed you too.”
“What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been teaching singing lessons to little girls just like you.” I missed teaching kids but didn’t want to go back to teaching while I was performing at nightclubs most nights, so I taught a few lessons during the week. I still had money I received when my dad passed away, so I lived comfortably, but it wouldn’t last forever if I didn’t help offset some of my bills.
“I’ll be right back.” She jumps off the couch and runs out of the room.
I glance at Addie and she shrugs. “You never know with that one.”
“I bet she keeps you on your toes.”
“Oh, just wait until you see Jett. For a six-month-old, he’s a busy guy.” I chuckle, but it comes out more bitter than I had meant. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly.
I expected the baby would bring out feelings I had locked away months ago. But that’s why I’m here. To release these stored up feelings, free me to live again. It’s okay for me to be sad that I lost a child. I accept that.
“I’m all right. Don’t be sorry. I can’t wait to meet him.” The awkwardness that has never been there before, weighs heavy between us.
Lulu comes back into the room carrying a kid’s radio with a microphone attached to it. “Let’s sing,” she cheers.
I swallow, remembering the last time we sang together. I can’t do it. I play with my hair, pulling it back and into a twist. I’ve compartmentalized my singing. Singing for a job, I can do without feeling, but singing for enjoyment, I’ve yet to find my voice. I bite my lip, trying to think of what to say. What excuse I can give her.
“Sweetie, Syd’s tired. She’s been traveling all day. How about you get your homework done first?”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Once she's out of the room, Addie looks at me. “I’m here anytime you need to talk. I know this is hard for you, so anytime it gets to be too much, just say… Magic Mike.”
I purse my lips, trying not to laugh, remembering our night in the wild club. “I still can’t believe he went up the ladder with you riding him.” I burst out laughing.
Addie laughs, falling on the couch next to me. This feels so good, us laughing together. “I was going to kill you. But it was kinda hot.”
“I’m going to choose to ignore the fact that my wife just said riding someone was hot,” Aiden grates, walking in carrying an adorable little boy with large green eyes identical to his dad’s. His gummy smile shines as soon as he sees Addison. She walks over and takes him from Aiden.
“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” She pushes up on her bare toes, kissing him on the lips and he slaps her on the ass as she walks away. I love that their dynamic hasn’t changed.
I glance behind him and sigh. “Where’s Max.” I’m sure he was happy to drop me off and run. He did his job. I’m not his problem anymore.
Aiden studies me for a beat, making me rock back and forth from his intense stare. “He’s staying at a hotel. Said to call him when you’re ready to go back to LA.”
“What?” Addison clips. “Are you leaving soon?”
I wince at her disappointment. “I told Graham I’d only stay a week.”
“Wait a minute, Graham DeLong?” I nod, wondering if she would’ve remembered him. “He always adored you in college. So, are you ready to meet your nephew?” She takes a couple steps toward me. “JD, this is your aunt Syd.” He grins and claps his hands while drool spills from his mouth. Addison wipes it off and laughs. “He’s teething, so he’s a slobbery mess.”
I reach out and shake his plump hand. His fingers wrap around mine. “Hey JD.” I glance at Addie. “What’s JD stand for?”
She swallows and looks around the room for Aiden. I tilt my head, surprised by her hesitancy. Aiden stands behind her, squeezing her shoulders. She finally answers. “Jett Damon.” My hand drops to my side.
Oh.
That hurts. It shouldn’t. It makes total sense why they would do it, but knowing it, doesn’t stop
the sting. I shake the unwanted feelings from my thoughts, and manage a smile, holding my arms out. “Hey Jett, can I hold you?” He comes to me easily and I have to adjust him on my hip. He’s a chunker with some serious chubby legs. What are they feeding this kid? I sit with him on the couch and slap his hands together, playing patty-cake. When giggles fill the room, they tickle my soul with happiness. Tears well up in my eyes. I glance at Addie and she’s biting her nails watching us, trying to read my reaction. “He’s perfect. Y’all did good.”
When he falls asleep on me not long after, I’m disappointed when Aiden takes him from me. I tell Addison to tell me about him, wanting to know everything I’ve missed when Aiden disappears into a bedroom with Jett. It’s surreal to think my baby would be the same age.
As Addison is telling me about the birth and Aiden’s attempt to cut the cord right before he passed out, Lulu comes running into the living room. “Sydney, is that you?” She’s holding my LA Now magazine that she must have snatched on the way to her room. It was next to my purse on the counter. She squeezes in between us on the couch and points to a picture. Addison and I both lean in to see.
I gasp. “Oh, my gosh.” It’s a picture from my concert the other night. I pull the magazine out of her hands and read the article next to the picture. My eyes widen and a few squeals escape my lips.
“What does it say?” Addison asks, trying to read over my shoulder. I’m done reading it, but I can’t stop staring at it. Addison gets impatient and rips it out of my hands.
The smile on my face is ridiculous. “Syd, this is amazing. While we have always thought Sky Owen was something worth watching, tonight she showed her raw side, singing ‘Lost Boy’ by Ruth B, and let me just say… she blew us out of the water. Her soulful voice mixed with rawness had everyone in the bar hypnotized,” she reads out loud. She sharply inhales when she keeps reading the rest to herself. Laying the magazine down in her lap. She places her hand on mine and says, “Is this why you came home?”
Of course, the magazine covered my fainting too. I blow out a heavy breath. “I want to say no, but I can’t. It made me realize that I had to mend my past before I could move forward.” I squeeze her hand.
“I’m glad you did. So, should I call you Sky from now on?” she teases.
“Don’t you dare.”
Chapter Eight
Sydney
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Addie says as we walk through the blacked-out doors.
We’ve spent the last couple days catching up on everything. Aiden kicked us out of the house, tired of hearing us talk. He cheerfully volunteered to take care of the kids as long as he didn’t have to hear us laugh again. My heart is happy being here, but I miss Los Angeles. I was afraid coming back, I’d fall back into the same mentality that I had to be close to Addison. I realize I can have both. Addison and my singing career can coexist in my world.
“I know. Remind me why again.” I shake my hands to stop the trembling. Pain makes me a wimp.
The walls are painted red with black-framed artwork pinned to them. We move from picture to picture admiring the inked tattoos.
“Hey ladies, what can we do for you?” A grizzly bear of a man approaches us. The only thing soft looking about the guy is his rosy cheeks you can barely see under his shaggy black beard.
“Um… we’re here to…” Feeling out of place, I have a hard time finding my words. The sound of a buzzing noise comes from somewhere in the back and I can feel it in my teeth when I open my mouth.
“We’re getting tattoos,” Addison says confidently. Easy for her to say. She’s never been afraid of pain. “Max Shaw recommended we come to you.”
His eyes land on me and he cocks his head to the side. “Hmm. You wouldn’t be Tink, would ya?”
I’m taken aback by his question. Only Max calls me that. I look at Addison and she does a small shrug. “That’s Max’s nickname for me, but I go by Sydney.” I let out an awkward chuckle. After the shock of him knowing who I am dies down, I narrow my eyes at him and plant my hands on my hips. “If Max paid you to do some crazy tattoo on me, like a dick or something, I will hurt you.”
He roars with laughter, holding his belly. “He told me you were a little spitfire. But I promise” —he holds up both his hands— “no dick tats. I’m Jay.” He holds out his hand. I take a couple seconds to register that I’m supposed to shake his hand because I’m in shock at how large it is. How the hell is he going to do a dainty tattoo with the hands of a giant? If Max hadn’t recommended him, I think I would back out. Instead, I put my trust in him and slip my hand into his.
I pull out a piece of paper from my jeans pocket, unfold it and hand it to him. “This is what I want, right here,” I say, pointing to my inner wrist. I’m waiting for this tattoo is too small for me to do. I would totally understand why.
Instead, he nods and says, “Looks easy enough.”
Addison and I scoured through hundreds of pictures last night on the internet. I knew what I wanted. A treble clef with wings. The treble clef represents the beginning of my song. My future. The wings represent my past. A reminder of those I loved and lost.
Another guy comes out and takes Addie back to his room. Panic flutters inside my belly. I was hoping they would let her hold my hand while I had it done and vice versa.
“Don’t be scared. I’ll go easy on you,” he says, walking to a small room.
I bet he tells everyone that.
With the tip of his head, he motions to the dentist-style chair beside him and I slide in it while he scribbles on a pad and redraws the tattoo, changing a few things. Beneath the scent of disinfectant lay the faint smell of pot. I stare at him, thinking it’s not too late to leave. But when he shows me his version, the wings more defined and feathered, my smile reaches my eyes, excitement stirring inside me. Maybe he smokes it for medicinal purposes. Who am I to judge?
“I love it. It’s perfect.” I relax a little, obviously he knows what he’s doing. Max wouldn’t send me here if he didn’t trust the guy. “So, Jay, I’m sure you’ve heard this question a bajillion times, but entertain me… does it hurt?”
He turns his head, cocks a brow with an amused expression. “Nope.”
“Really?” I say, sitting forward, the possibility giving me life. He chuckles, shaking his head as he returns to setting up. Hope dies a million deaths. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“You told me to entertain you. I could’ve told you it won’t hurt as bad as Max.”
I gasp, shock robbing me of words. Did Max tell him about us? My face flushes from embarrassment. He doesn’t seem like the kiss and tell kind of guy, but there’s no way Jay could have guessed that just by Max telling him I was coming. Jay rolls his chair over and I’m still too flabbergasted to do anything other than hold my hand out, wrist up on the arm pad. He rubs a cool pad over my wrist.
Jay chuckles. “Relax, Sydney. I was kidding. But the way your face is lightin’ up like a firefly, says a lot. So, what’s up with you and Max?”
“Nothing,” I reply quickly. He slowly nods, with an unconvinced expression. “We’re just friends.”
I watch in silence as he places the transfer on my wrist, leaving the design on my skin when he pulls it up. “Good?” I nod, already loving how it looks.
“So, what exactly did he tell you about me?”
He rolls back over to me, his large hand engulfs the tool. His round eyes meet mine for a beat as if he’s deciding what to say. “There were no specifics. Just how he met a beautiful woman and let her go.”
I snicker. “That isn’t quite how it went. It’s more like he was never interested.” The needle makes contact and I flinch, blowing out a long breath. This isn’t too bad, I tell myself. Mind over matter, right? I stop talking to not distract him. The last thing I need is a permanent oops. My eyes water, so I hum to distract myself from the shocking sensation that isn’t going away. I imagine myself on stage, playing in Central Park. Thousands of people scream my name. Exce
pt no matter where I look in the crowd, steel-blue eyes stare up at me. Without thinking, the words from “Mercy” by Shawn Mendes bubble up out of me. I’m singing directly to Max, spilling every emotion into the words.
As the words fade away, the buzzing noise interrupts my dream, and I’m back in the small, dreary room. It takes a couple seconds to realize his tool is no longer touching me. “Are you done already?” I ask, meeting chocolate brown eyes without looking at my wrist.
He shakes his head, and I arch a brow, wondering if something’s wrong. I peek down, afraid of what I’ll see, and only one wing is done. “Wow,” he says to himself, shaking out of whatever trance he’s in. “… he said you were good, but that was sick.”
My cheeks warm again. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was singing out loud.” This time I don’t flinch when he begins again. The mixture of nerves and my week of healing has my emotions on a whirlwind.
“It’s not a bad sound. Sing away, girl. Do you always sing when you’re nervous?” he asks without looking up.
I bob my head. “Sometimes.”
“Well, I can’t wait to say I did your ink when you’re famous.”
I laugh out loud at the sound of that. Famous? My first single will probably bomb or I’ll be a one-hit-wonder. It’s easy to imagine myself on stage, yet it’s difficult for me to imagine I’ll make something of myself. The odds are not in my favor. A lot of singers sign with a producer, but they’ll drop you quicker than cash if you’re not selling and move on to the next hot thing of the moment.
An hour later, Addie and I are staring at our forever artwork on our wrists through clear plastic wrap. My skin looks pissed, red and raised. Jay hands us our healing instructions and says, “Sydney, it was great to meet you, finally.” Finally? When did Max tell him about me? “And always remember, not every tattoo is exactly one of a kind. So, you can’t get mad at me if you see it again.” I tilt my head, confused.