by Jo Raven
“Got any ink on you already?” he asks, and although his gaze is on the designs, I have a feeling he’s studying me from the corner of his eye.
“Some.” Tats and scars. A name, a word, a picture. I rub my stomach, and then my chest.
When it becomes obvious I’m not gonna say anything more, Zane shrugs. “Many guys go for comic figures lately. Of course, most people who come here have something specific in mind, something that has a special meaning to them. A person or a symbol.”
I take a step back. There’s a smell in the stuffy air of the shop that rubs on the edge of my nerves. Sweet. Metallic.
Blood.
Of course. It’s a tattoo shop. Lately all smells feel stronger, though, and suddenly I’m dizzy. I have to get out of here.
“I have to go.”
“Sure, no problem,” Zane is saying, and his voice seems to come from a distance.
Fuck. Not now. I haven’t had an attack in more than a year. But my skin is itchy, my lungs labor and white noise fills my ears.
Maybe I’m due for one. Time to get out, like, right now.
But my luck has always been shitty. Through the din in my ears, I dimly hear a woman’s voice, vaguely familiar, calling Zane’s name.
I turn as if through water.
The woman must have just come in, because she’s holding an umbrella that’s dripping water all over the floor. That’s the only thing that registers apart from the heart-shaped face and large, dark eyes with flecks of green and gold. Eyes that are widening, and a small mouth that is now hanging open.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, taking a step forward and stopping. The umbrella falls from her hand and thuds to the floor. “Tyler?”
“Erin.” A face I used to know better than my own, a body I’d mapped with my hands and lips what feels like a thousand years ago. She hasn’t changed much—though I see her curves are fuller. Of course they are. She was fifteen in my memory. Now she’s nineteen, three years younger than me. Strangely, she also looks smaller, but I realize it’s me. I’ve grown taller over the years.
All blood drains from her face, but she doesn’t ask me anything—why I vanished from her life and where I went. I’m dying to know how she’s been, but the question freezes on my tongue when she claps a hand over her mouth and pushes past me, vanishing between the booths.
Leaving me breathless with the assault of memories. Her scent is all around me, sweet, just like so long ago. Has it really been four years? Holding her, kissing her, making love to her.
And then leaving, being without her, feeling hollow and empty and barely alive. I did try to find her online over the years, just to make sure she’s all right, but couldn’t. Either she doesn’t hang out on the social networks like most, or uses an alias I don’t know. Any email I sent her bounced back, and calling her was out of the question, for many reasons. Not least because she wouldn’t want me to.
“Hey, fucker, you okay?” Zane waves a hand in front of my face, and I blink.
“Yeah. I’d better go.”
Without waiting for his reply, I toss the wet towel on the counter and head out, letting the door of the shop slam shut behind me.
It’s still raining outside, and I’m instantly drenched once more. I barely notice it as I turn and start walking down the street, not knowing where I’m heading.
It isn’t until much later, when night has fallen, and I try to remember which way is to my new apartment, that I realize the panic attack never came.
Just like her photo, her presence stopped it in its tracks, and although I have no clue what that means, I have a feeling it’s something I ought to know, something important.
Chapter Two
Erin
Locking the bathroom door behind me, I brace my hands on the granite counter, lean over the sink and bow my head. I feel light-headed. The room spins. Tears burn my eyes—tears of shock, relief and frustration kept back for way too long.
Oh my God. Tyler is right here. Can’t believe it.
He’s back. The guy I gave my heart—and body—to, only to have him disappear without a word for four years, and that at a time in my life I needed him the most.
I take deep breaths and look up into the small oval mirror. It has a frame of shimmering stones around it that looks like a dragon’s scales. Zane’s work. I only came by Damage Control to give Zane the apartment keys he forgot to take with him. We share the apartment, and he’s been distracted lately. I wasn’t prepared for such a jolt.
My eyes are red and my lashes wet, although I’ve felt no tears leaking. I turn on the water and pat my hot cheeks.
A day hasn’t passed in which I haven’t thought about Tyler. Where he is. If he’s okay. If he’s alive. Nobody knew to tell me, and my internet searches didn’t help any. Asher denied knowing anything and I often thought he must be lying to me, that Tyler made him swear not to tell. That maybe he made a new life elsewhere, that he was with another woman, that he had a family.
The thought hurt, but it wasn’t the one that hurt the most. No, it was the fear that something bad happened to him. That maybe he died, and nobody was telling me. Stupid, I know. You can’t keep someone’s death a secret. Still I’d checked online for obituaries, and every time I was so glad I didn’t find his.
I missed him. His big smile, his rough voice, his strength. The way he looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. And God, he’s so sexy, sexier than I remember—his dark hair messy and shaggy, his chocolate eyes bright, his mouth, and that body...
Did Zane know Tyler was back? Why didn’t he say anything? I know that a month ago something happened to Asher—that his dad died and that he himself had been in the hospital for a few days—but Jax was sick, and I went to stay with him for a few days, until he got better. When I came back, Zane said Asher was fine and left it at that.
It all becomes clear. His dad dying and his brother almost following the same fate brought him back. He came back for his brother. Not for me.
Goddammit, Erin. I wipe my eyes, smearing them with black eyeliner until I look like a vampire. The silver hoops in my ears glint as I study my reflection. I smooth my dark hair back.
Tyler’s alive. He’s okay. He’s here.
Who else but me would still cry over their high school sweetheart? Tessa always tells me I have to move on. It’s been four frigging years. And I have a great man in my life. But it’s not the same.
Can’t stop caring for Tyler. Can’t stop being angry at him for leaving like that, for never calling or texting. For hurting me so much I thought I’d die. I had wanted to die for a while back then.
Can’t go through this again.
And yet I need to see him, make sure he’s real, that he’s really here. Talk to him. Shake him. Demand answers.
Apologize to him.
Because before he left, we fought, and I called him horrible things. Told him I didn’t want to see him again. I fear he left because of my behavior and the guilt has been tearing me apart for so long. I was never able to take those words back, because right after our fight, he vanished into thin air. I was so stupid. I was out of control, and although I know now why, I can’t turn back time.
I run my wet hands through my bangs and smooth my frazzled ponytail. I look like crap. That’s not how I imagined meeting Tyler again. Of course, my mind painted thousands of encounters with him, none of which involved me running to the bathroom and hiding like a child from the one person I’ve longed so long to see.
I wipe my cheeks, doing my best to remove the black streaks of eyeliner, open the bathroom door and walk out. I scan the interior of the shop for Tyler’s tall, broad-shouldered figure.
He’s not there.
Gone, like smoke. Was he really here, or did I imagine him?
“Erin,” Zane calls, starting toward me, his Mohawk towering over the booths.
“Where’s Tyler?” I feel ready to break apart again, to shatter into a million pieces.
“He left. Hey.” Z
ane strides between the booths and grabs my hand. “Come here.” He steers me to the orange armchairs and pushes me down to sit. “You okay? Want a glass of water?”
“I’m okay,” I say automatically, sinking into the chair, my hands clawing at the armrests. “Did you...?” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Did you know he was back? Did you see...?”
I can’t formulate any coherent questions. This is all too much. Nothing could have prepared me for this moment, no matter how often I fantasized about it.
Zane squats at my feet and places his hands on my knees. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I think I have. Was Tyler here?”
He nods.
“You knew he was in town?”
“I saw him right after Christmas. He came when Ash was in the hospital, and then again for his dad’s funeral a few weeks later. I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“It was years ago.” More words want to spill out, but I clamp my mouth shut.
“Something I should know, something he did to you? Do I need to go and bust his face?”
Zane means it, I know. He’s like my older brother, though he’s a year younger than me. He’d do anything for his friends, his adopted family, and somehow I’ve made it into that circle, despite my regular absences and occasional dark moods.
Despite the fact he thinks I should have treated Asher better than I have. Despite the fact I know he’s right.
“Nothing to know,” I mutter and my cheeks warm.
“I know he left four years ago,” Zane says, his eyes somber. “Ash had no idea where Tyler went until Christmas, when their Dad died, and Tyler came to visit.”
Oh crap. Ash told me the truth all along, and I didn’t believe him. My whole face is burning now. I took out so much of my anger at Tyler on Asher. I have to say something.
“We were together,” I say under Zane’s close scrutiny. Nothing escapes those dark eyes. “Tyler and I. We’d been together for a year when he left. I never knew what happened to him until now.”
“Fuck.” Zane’s gaze turns stormy. “Motherfucker. I think I’ll go bust his chops now.”
“No.” I grab his wrist. “Please, Zane. Don’t say anything to him.”
He hesitates, rocks back on his heels, dips his head. Zane has a heart of gold. We used to sit together in literature and biology class at school, and when I came back to town and saw his ad for someone to share his apartment, I called him on the spot and never regretted it.
“For all it’s worth,” Zane finally says, his voice just a breath, “I think something happened to Tyler.”
I freeze, my fingers clenching around the bones of his wrist, around the colorful ink that covers it. “What do you mean?”
He doesn’t look up. I can see his throat working. “I’ve seen a lot in my life, Erin. More than I care to remember on most days. And I know the look on the face of a man who’s been to hell and back.” He finally glances up, a flash of concern going through his eyes. “I don’t know what made him leave, but I think maybe you should try to talk to him.”
I release Zane’s wrist and curl my hands in my lap. My chest feels heavy. “What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
Because I am at fault. Because I flipped out on him over nothing back then and hurt him.
“Girl, the way he was staring at you...” Zane shakes his head. “Trust me when I tell you he does.”
***
Tessa comes to pick me up before I manage to gather my wits. Her blue eyes narrow on me when she enters Damage Control but she says nothing as she hauls me out and into her Jeep Cherokee.
I like Tessa. We’ve become friends over the year. I help her with her Spanish lessons and she helps me with math. I suck at math.
I suck at plenty of things. But as Tessa drives us to her new favorite cafe for cappuccino and catching up, I get distracted and forget about that. She always has a lot to tell me about boys and assignments and friends and late nights out at the bars.
As for myself, I mainly listen and nod. Tess is used to my lack of exciting news. Between my parents’ home, college and teaching Spanish to kids for money, I hardly have time to breathe, let alone go out. I’m used to it by now. And Tessa may prod and push me to go out with her on occasion, but she doesn’t press too much, as if she feels there’s some scar tissue there that still hurts, and she wants to let me open up in my own good time.
So I think I’m safe, huddled in my seat as she parks her Jeep and switches off the engine.
A mistake. I obviously have trouble written all over my face.
“Okay, girl, fess up.” Tessa’s gaze nails me, shrewd and worried. “What happened to you today?”
I shrug and undo my seat belt. “Nothing.”
“Yeah, right.” She sighs. “What did Zane tell you? He’s been in a strange mood lately.”
“It wasn’t Zane.”
“Then who was it?”
Crap. Fell right into that one. “No one you know.”
She waits when I don’t elaborate, when all I want is to open the car door and escape, run until my legs give out. “Man trouble?” she finally asks. “This Jax you always go on about? The super-secret hot boyfriend?”
I shake my head. “It’s not Jax, chica.”
Then she licks her lips and leans back in her seat. “You told me there was a guy once. A boyfriend who left.”
Now I want to bang my head against the car window. I did tell her that once, when she plied me with coffee liqueur one night I was feeling down. Stupid move, Erin.
“Tyler,” I whisper.
She frowns. “Like Asher’s brother?”
Oh God. “Just like Asher’s brother.”
Tessa’s eyes go round. “He was your boyfriend? The long-lost brother?”
“You knew he was back?” Did everyone know he’d reappeared but me?
“You mean, now? No, but I knew he was here around Christmas.”
Buried in my routine, busy with Jax who’d been sick, I’d been left out of the welcome party. And with my permanent black mood when it came to the Devlin family, it’s no wonder nobody told me. Besides, the only one who knew about me and Tyler is Asher, and Asher doesn’t owe me anything.
God, he doesn’t owe me anything at all, and why would he tell me Tyler’s back? It’s not as if we have any contact now that he doesn’t crash at the apartment Zane and I share.
I suck in a deep breath. “Tyler and I haven’t seen each other since he left. He appeared today, out of the blue, at Damage Control, and I got a bit of a shock. That’s all.”
“That’s all, huh?” Again that speculative look. “Didn’t you tell me he up and left without a word? That he’s a bastard, and you’re glad he’s gone ’cause you don’t wanna see him ever again?”
I chew on my lower lip, then make myself stop. “Yep. That’s the one.”
“Then why are you so upset now that you saw him?”
“I’m not upset.”
“Uh-huh. Could have fooled me.” Tessa snickers. “Your eyes are red, you know. And I can see some eyeliner smudged around them.”
Shit. Hurriedly, I wipe my fingers under my eyes. “I thought I’d never see him again. I didn’t even know whether he was alive or dead. He surprised me.”
“And why would you think he was dead?” She leans forward, pale brows knitting. “You said you were together for a year. Did you lie to me?”
“What? No.”
“So you were with this guy for a year, then he left, and you’ve been pining over him for four years now.” She tsked. “Honestly?”
“I haven’t been pining,” I grumble.
“Sure you haven’t. That’s why you won’t go out with any other guy, except this mysterious Jax we never get to meet, and live like a nun.”
“Tessa...”
“Well, listen.” She pops her door open and prepares to step out. “I don’t know much about relationships, so I’m not going to try and give you any advice. But I gotta say it
. Even to me, this sounds like serious love.”
***
Serious love. Whatever. I’m not in love with Tyler. I’m angry with him—and myself. Love and anger can’t be confused—can they? Now the shock of seeing him is starting to wear off, and with my cold hands wrapped around a tall cup of creamy cappuccino, I can think more clearly.
I don’t expect anything from Tyler—apart from an explanation. Tessa’s right. I’ve hung onto him all these years, and it must be because I never had closure. Like families who have a child gone missing and they keep their room intact for years and years, always hoping to find out what happened and for their child to return.
So I need to talk to him, apologize for the way we parted, get my explanation about why he vanished, let go and live my life. It’d be fair to myself. Fair to Jax. The cloud hanging over us both will dissipate, and we’ll move on. Jax knows when I’m sad, when depression drags me down. He has a right to be happy, and it all depends on me.
And Tyler’s explanation.
“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?” Tessa pouts over her cup of coffee. “I’ll keep asking, you know, until you tell me what really went down between you two. Did you cheat on him?”
“Tess!” I choke on my cappuccino and put it down to wipe my mouth. “I didn’t.”
“Then he did?”
“No.” I consider standing up and leaving, but I don’t have many friends, and Tessa is a nice person. She did last long enough to ask me these questions. I’d be dying of curiosity in her place, and when someone is curious, you need to toss them a bone to worry, so they leave you in peace.
Works with dogs, anyway. No clue whether it works with people.
“Did he do something? Kill someone?”
I choke again. Damn. “Are you insane?”
“Why? It’s mysterious and romantic.” Tessa crosses one leg over the other and swings her designer boot. “Handsome young man suspected of murder leaves town to protect his girlfriend.”
Whoa. “Are you on drugs or something?”
Tessa grins. “Or something.”
I glance around, looking for clues. Tessa’s been dragging me to this cafe at the edge of town for weeks now, and I have no clue why. The coffee’s horrible, plus they don’t have her favorite red velvet cupcakes—or mine, the mocha cupcakes with espresso frosting—and the decor looks as if someone threw paint on the walls with buckets. I never gave it much thought, but Tessa is always hyper when we’re here, and I don’t think it’s the caffeine.