Twisted Fate (A Twisted Fairy Tale Book 1)

by Ace Gray

  “Up here isn’t much better.” My fingers hovered over the bruises that his jaw and cheek wore.

  “Dick it is.” He pressed his bruises into my hesitant fingers. “I don’t mind one bit.”

  “You’re terrible.” I laughed but made sure it didn’t shake my fingertips.

  “I’m a monster,” he growled before bending down to kiss me again, chastely this time.

  “Not even remotely.” I pulled away then kissed a spot on his chest before I walked over to the dresser.

  I’d folded his t-shirts from the busted drawer and left them on top yesterday. Then I’d snooped enough to find the tight boxer briefs he wore. Luckily, his dimple made a guest appearance when I walked around like I owned the place. As I circled back I snatched the jeans Horse had discarded last night before kneeling at Cole’s feet. He watched me closely as I held his clothes out for him. He used my shoulder when he needed to balance himself with only minimal grunts.

  I held his shirt open for him and he slid in. As soon as I pulled it over his head, something delicious flashed in his eyes.

  “I think we should make this a daily ritual.” The way hunger and gratitude mingled in his voice had me contemplating a yes. “That’s your bag over on the couch, yeah?”

  I turned to find the familiar leather bag resting in the spot I’d occupied last night.

  “Where did that come from?”

  “The car.” Cole breathed out roughly. “Thank fucking God Horse found it.”

  His eyes went dark and he wasn’t with me anymore. The ghosts haunting him were almost as obvious as the bruises he wore. His fists balled at his side and his shoulders started to rise and fall too quickly.

  “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?” My voice brought him back to me but he was still bathed in darkness.

  “I don’t ever want to say those words to you.” His voice was a mix of fury and desolation.

  We stood silent, staring at each other for a few moments. I narrowed my eyes the slightest bit and clenched my jaw. He drank in every inch of me before blowing out a heavy breath.

  “He wanted proof I hadn’t contacted you. He went through my phone.” His voice was ominous but I didn’t see why.

  “Cole, you never called. You never texted. Didn’t that just help us?”

  “That did.” Cole emphasized the word so there was no question that something else had worked decidedly against us. His shoulders started their haggard roll again. “But the video.”

  For a second I could only remember the sweet one I’d sent. It seemed like I’d sent it years ago, so much had happened since then. I was going to question him but then I reached back further. Back to the reason we were both standing here together in the first place.

  “Of me? Of you covering me?” I couldn’t bring myself to say masturbating.

  He nodded once.

  “Mr. Maloney saw that?” The embarrassment bloomed up along my collarbone.

  “I couldn’t stop him, Elle. Even if he hadn’t already worked me over.” He seethed as he spoke. “He would have known that there was something more between us. He would have dug.”

  My heart was alternating between a jackhammer and a flat line but it wasn’t beating with anger, just fear.

  “I understand.” My voice was equally small. “I was going to tell you that yesterday but got distracted. It hurts, but I get why you’ve done…what you’ve done.”

  “It’s more this time,” he snarled lowly. “He wants you. He wants to watch you.” His voice broke. “He wants to feel inside of you.”

  I couldn’t breathe. It was a little bit because of Mr. Maloney but he was still an abstract villain in my story. It was mostly because I couldn’t be with someone else. Any little space I had in my heart, or in my bed, were currently occupied by Horse. Cole was actually my everything.

  “You won’t let him.” I meant it to be a question but it came out as a decisive statement.

  Cole started to speak, his voice a stark reprimand, but I cut him off.

  “No. That trudge through hell you told me about, well this is it. It’s not pretty and it’s not easy, but we will find something on the other side.” I let conviction color my voice and whether I was delusional or not, believing in him, and in us, felt right in my very soul.

  He moved faster than I’d seen in twenty-four hours, his hand came to my throat and he pulled me to his body. His fingers curled into my neck, crushing harder as his lips threatened to devour me. I matched him move for move until that hazy feeling started to filter into my face. The buzz that rang in my ears and the way my vision tunneled was almost as delicious as the taste of Cole against me.

  “Everything,” he growled when he pulled away but he didn’t let go. “You’re fucking everything.”

  I didn’t fight him. I stayed limp in his grip as I started to gasp for air. He squeezed tighter. My eyelids fluttered shut as my head rolled back. The heat and throb that came with his brand of ownership was taking over. I was happy to surrender to it, murmuring just one word before I was sure I’d pass out.

  Everything.

  He let go and it was the rush of air pummeling my limbs, not the disappearance of his hand, that had me stumbling. Cole tried to chase after me but he still couldn’t quite move without crying out in pain. I caught myself against the arm of the couch and sucked in deep breaths.

  We shared a look again, this one speaking volumes about everything between us. About how we understood each other on a level so basic it was like oxygen itself.

  “Get dressed or I’ll end up ruining you.” He adjusted his stance a little so he could watch me, once again pain snapped across his face.

  “I’m already ruined.” I held his gaze for a split second before I reached into my bag and pulled out the cotton dress on top. I didn’t need a bra so I pulled the black t-shirt fabric on and let it dance across my upper thighs. I reached down into my bag to grab socks and underwear.

  “Don’t you dare put on panties.” Cole’s voice was a different kind of rough when he commanded me.

  I held up my knee-high socks with a smirk and let them unwind from my hand like some big reveal. I wiggled my eyebrows at him then twisted to sit as I rolled them on. I knew he could see straight between my thighs but then again, I wasn’t really trying to hide from him. He was the one that wanted me bare anyway. I even threw my leg up on the armrest when I slipped on my hightops that matched his a little too well.

  “Maybe you aren’t an angel after all.” A big smile split across his face and he reached his hand out for me.

  I took it for just a second then slid in under his shoulder. I lifted up the best way I knew how and we finally made it out of the apartment. We even managed the stairs pretty well. He grabbed keys from somewhere and opened the shop.

  A small bell rang when we opened the door but otherwise the studio was silent. He didn’t have other artists buzzing away or a front desk person ready to take calls.

  “Is it just you?” I asked when he stepped away from me and gingerly sat down on the rolling stool behind the computer.

  “Yeah. I rent space out to a lot of my friends when they come into town and need a place to set up shop for a little while. It’s pretty common to have visiting artists in the tattoo world.” He smiled wistfully like it was a world a million miles away. “Take a look around, Ladyface. There’s a bathroom and a closet in the back. A space for when I have company or need to tattoo something delicate, then there’s all this…” He waved around a workspace full of drawing tables and tracing paper and I smiled. “I’d show you around but…” He pointed toward his side.

  I shot him a look then started meandering around. My fingers traced over the surfaces that screamed Cole. A white wall was covered in frames, each holding colored tattoo drawings or photos of exceptional work. All of it arced with lines that reminded me of Cole’s grip, bold and unrelenting but beautiful, each one held his signature without being signed.

  The back had a rich, luxurious and
dark wallpaper with velvet fleur-de-lis across it. A massage table was laid out with lighting above. The bathroom was tucked behind and the closet was even further away. As I walked back out, I found small figures and random collectibles on every single shelf.

  There were army guys and a mini Dodge Charger, sketches, pin-up girls and a sheriff star but it was the random horses everywhere that caught my eye. Some of them were bigger, some teeny-tiny. Some were brand new, and even more seemed liked they’d been picked up off the street, dirt and scuff still covering them.

  The shop was eclectic but artsy and utterly Cole. Manly beyond a doubt but sentimental and a haven for creativity. I loved it more than words could say. It reminded me of my workshop at home. Of Conrad.

  “Shit,” I swore at the very idea of how angry he had to be with me. “Can I use your phone?”

  “No. No one can know, Elle. Absolutely no one.” His brow creased and darkness filled his features again.

  “But Conrad will be worried. He’ll be freaking the fuck out.” True panic at how far Conrad would speed off the rails was welling up in my chest. “He’s my best friend. I left without telling him anything. I mean anything besides I was going stupid for you despite the Maloney stuff.”

  “Shhhhh, Ladyface,” he soothed me, his voice wrapping around me like his hands would if he wasn’t awkwardly frozen across the room. “Wanna draw? That always calms me down?”

  The tightness in my chest unwound and I couldn’t help but smile. Conrad would have worked himself into a fine lather, and he was likely ready to murder me, but I was happy here. Blissfully happy, actually. I couldn’t regret my decision, even if I had to keep it quiet. I followed Cole’s pointed hand to the workstation behind him.

  “Don’t touch the sketches, they’re for clients, but help yourself to absolutely anything else.” He busied himself on the computer as I settled in.

  There was only one pile of papers in my way. I carefully lifted them and slid them over to the desk between us. One piece of paper slid out and fell to the floor. I bent to pick it up and put it back on the pile but my hand hesitated on it.

  The image was unmistakable. It was me with my finger pointing in the direction of the artist. My hair snaked wildly and seemed to dance even on paper. My eyes twinkled on the page and I remembered how it felt to send him that video. That he’d watched it, drawn from it, thought about me in some small way, pushed worry so far from my mind, I couldn’t remember what it was.

  Yes. I would trudge through hell with Cole—for Cole—even if it was a death march that could cost me everything.

  22.

  Cole

  Elle had settled into a sketching station like she belonged there. She fit in my shop the way she fit underneath my shoulder.

  Before my client came in, I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She evaluated every pencil I had, each stack of paper as if they meant something to her. She’d said she was an artist but now, watching her, I wondered about Elle’s life before me, or outside of me.

  Her hand against paper seemed so natural, the curves or her strokes so easy, she was almost entrancing. I checked emails, updated my books and printed off stencils but my eyes never really strayed far from her. Once or twice I caught her watching me right back.

  The familiar bell clanged and pulled my attention from her.

  “Hey man,” I said as I nodded at the guy walking in.

  “What up, Cole.” He reached his hand over and I had to suck in a deep breath before I could reach my hand out to greet him, I managed to shake it without balling into a sandy sack. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  I managed to get my client set up without asking Elle for help. It wasn’t that it didn’t ache through my side but more that I didn’t want to bother her. She was so intent on the page below her fingertips I felt awful interrupting.

  When the buzz of my gun ramped up against the skin, I blew out a deep breath I didn’t know I was holding. Doing what I loved with Elle by my side felt right. Mick wasn’t lurking in the background, worry wasn’t worming its way through my veins. Instead there was warmth and ease radiating from a few feet to my left.

  For a few minutes—well, because of the size of the piece, a few hours—life was good. Better than good. It was perfect. There was quiet and calm. Not just around me, but within me. The last time I’d been able to lull myself into this sense of security was…never.

  The artwork on the skin in front of me reflected the feeling taking root inside me. The curves matched the body just a little bit better, the shading was the slightest bit more refined, and there was a lightness I didn’t expect. To say I was proud of the piece taking shape beneath my hand was an understatement. I just hoped it didn’t stray too far from expectations.

  I winced the slightest bit when I sat up straight and wiped the last little bit of ink away from the guy’s side.

  “Take a look,” I said as I set the gun down.

  My eyes went to Elle rather than the ink just as they had off and on throughout the session. Her head bobbed in time with the music and she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that I was still in the room.

  “Holy shit, Cole!”

  I looked over to where my artwork was highlighted in a mirror by overhead spotlights.

  “That a good or a bad holy shit?”

  “It’s amazing.” It was Elle’s quiet voice that answered just before her hand came to rest on my shoulder.

  “Fuck yeah it is. I mean, I knew you were good but this…” He whistled lowly, but it was Elle squeezing ever so slightly on me that made me proud.

  “Glad you like it.” I smiled and leaned back into Elle even though my kidneys told me to knock that shit off.

  “Like it? Jesus. You’re an artist.” He was still looking down at his side in disbelief.

  “You are, Cole,” Elle agreed as her fingertips tickled along my shirt collar.

  “Let me clean you up, take a pic and wrap it.” I felt the dimple hollow out the side of my cheek as my chest puffed up under the touch of my Ladyface.

  He sidled back over and held his arm above his head as I wiped him down then snapped a pic. Even on camera, the art made me proud. I couldn’t help but smile as I covered him with the usual pads and neon tape. Elle’s gently massaging fingertips at the nape of my neck didn’t hurt.

  The moment we were alone, I spun my stool toward Elle. She stood waiting for me and didn’t seem the least bit surprised when I nuzzled against her stomach, her hands simply folded around the back of my head and massaged my scalp then down toward my neck.

  “God, this feels good,” I purred.

  I moved my hands up to her hips and forced my mouth to stay shut. I was going to have this moment without a yelp if it killed me. Her hips bucked the slightest bit against me and I simply pressed my lips to where I knew her cute little belly button sat.

  “It really was exceptional art, Cole.” Her voice was low and warm like mine.

  “And just what do you know about ink? You work in metal,” I asked, barely able to contain the tease in my voice.

  “Hey!” she shrieked and stepped away.

  I gasped when I had to catch myself on the stool.

  “Cole, shit.” She rushed back and managed to catch me then steady my wobbling.

  I clung to her hips like she was a life raft keeping me afloat. Her tiny hands clasped around mine and just like that, I could swim, I could breathe. And in the air hung the faint scent of cherry between her thighs.

  “Speaking of art…” I had to change the subject or surrender to the cherries. “Show me what you were working on.”

  I looked up at her face and to my surprise, she didn’t even hesitate. No blush, no fish mouthed excuses, no waver whatsoever. She just pressed me back and walked over to her little workspace.

  She grabbed the piece of paper she’d been drawing on and held it out for me. I took it, expecting something simple, maybe high school level shading, but once again Elle floored me.

  I wa
s in front of me. Exactly. I could be looking in a mirror for how perfectly she’d captured me. The way I sat, the tattoos that poked out of my shirt when I bent over the desk in front of me. She’d drawn me with a slight scowl on my face as I turned a horse figurine over in my hands.

  It was like she’d looked back in time to a month ago, like she knew why the small toys littered my shop without me ever having to say it. The picture proved just how deeply she understood me. Every inch of me.

  Nothing would ever top looking at myself through her eyes. For a moment, I wasn’t a monster, I was a man who’d been lost, riddled with sin but who’d kept faith and kept going. The fact that she stood so close was proof it had all been worth it.

  “Come here.” I could barely get the words out.

  “It’s not my best, I mean the shadow is a little warped and I don’t think there’s enough movement in the piece. I’m rusty because of the metalwork, sketches usually don’t turn…”

  She was rambling about art in the passionate and familiar way only a real artist could. Judging by the sketch in my hand, and the critique she had prepared, a far superior artist. I wanted to stop her and tell her how fucking fantastic she was. I wanted to stop her and ask a million questions; to geek out the way only two kindred spirits could. But I needed to stop her and kiss her.

  I stood as swiftly as I could manage and tossed the piece of paper toward my desk. She stopped mid-sentence to scold me for getting up and her hands shot out to help me as the drawing fluttered to the floor. I cut her off with my mouth, swallowing her words and tasting them as much as I did her and her lips. Cherry filled my senses, and I let out a heavy sigh.

  Elle groaned in response and the feel of that sound in my mouth was so delicious, I knew what I would wish for on death row.

  Her hands wrapped around me, gently at first but the longer I kissed her, the more they begged to pull me closer. I let myself imagine that she would pull me right inside and let me live in her heart if she could.

  But then her hands curled into my sides and pain ripped through my body like claws and fangs set on eviscerating my insides. I cried out in agony and my knees threatened to give way beneath me. Her lips stopped working against mine and her hands fell completely from me, and a whole new pain took over.