Tortured (Cherry Grove Series Book 4)

by Cole Lepley

  Walker grins. “You want to be first, babe?” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “I can give you a tramp stamp.”

  “Very funny.” I cross my arms and he walks over and kisses me quickly.

  “Come on. This is going to be fun.” He plants his hands on my shoulders and shakes me back and forth. “Get excited.”

  I try to fight my smile, but I can’t. He’s too damn cute.

  “Okay,” I say finally, pointing my finger at him. “But you’re not touching me with that thing. How do you even know it’s sterile?”

  He huffs a laugh as if I’m being ridiculous. “You use a different needle every time. The dude gave me a whole setup.”

  The dude? I don’t know what everyone else is thinking, but to me it seems shady as hell. I shoot a look over my shoulder at Sloan, who is busy staring at her phone.

  “What do you think about all this? He’s your boyfriend.”

  She looks up and shrugs. “As long as it’s not on my body, I don’t really care.” She bites her lip and then gives a coy smile. “Besides, I think tattoos are hot.”

  Perry grins back at her with that love-drunk look in his eyes. “Thanks, baby.”

  They are being nice to each other today—which probably won’t last, but we are all thankful.

  Jeremy, who has been relatively quiet this whole time, claps his hands together once loudly. We all look at him and his mischievous grin. “I have an idea.”

  I groan. That is never a good sentence to come out of my brother’s mouth. Last time he said that we all ended up with food poisoning. Apparently, shellfish does have an expiration date. Lesson learned.

  He walks over and squeezes my shoulder. “I promise it’s a good one.”

  “We’ll see,” I mutter under my breath.

  He ignores my comment. “Let’s all get a tattoo.”

  Sloan immediately shakes her head, but doesn’t look up from her phone again. “No way.”

  Jeremy makes a face that she can’t see and mouths to us, “She doesn’t really count.”

  Everyone laughs a little, except for Perry, who scowls at him. Honestly, he can’t expect us to really accept someone into our group who is constantly leaving all the time. Loyalty is a quality we all value—except for Sloan apparently.

  Walker looks pensive for a moment. “Okay, but who will do mine?”

  Perry shrugs. “I’ll do it. Can’t be that hard.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. Why does everybody think this will be so easy, and isn’t it supposed to hurt? The guys all seem to be in agreement and their eyes shift to me for conformation. I release a lengthy sigh.

  “Fine.” I hold up one finger again and get a serious look on my face. “But I’m not getting a tramp stamp.”

  Walker laughs. “I was only kidding. We can do a small one on our wrists.” The excitement on his face makes me smile. Hopefully I won’t regret this.

  Later that night, I sit up on the roof of my garage and admire the fresh ink on my wrist. They turned out really nice actually. Perry designed a puzzle with four pieces that all fit together and now we each have one.

  When I hear heavy footsteps on the shingles beside me, I don’t have to turn around to see who it is. Perry sits down next to me with a cigarette hanging out his mouth, grinning.

  “You like it now, don’t you?”

  I nod, squeezing the outer edges of my wrist around it. “I really do. You did a great job.”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. This was all Walker.”

  “No, you designed it.” I nudge him with my shoulder. “You’re really good at this. Maybe it can be something for you.”

  His eyebrows pull in. “What? Like a career?”

  I laugh. “Yes, Perry. You’re going to graduate in two months and I know you’re not going to college. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

  He groans. “God, you sound like Sloan.”

  This time I punch him in the arm, and he grabs it like I actually hurt him. “Geez, Bishop. What was that for?”

  “Don’t ever compare me to Sloan. I honestly care about what happens to you. Unlike her.” The last part I add under my breath, but the sideways look I get from him indicates he heard me anyway.

  He’s quiet for a minute, taking long drags from his cigarette. He passes it to me, and then says, “I don’t know what next year is going to look like and it’s something I haven’t been looking forward to.”

  “Why?”

  He sighs. “Sloan is going to college. It’s hard enough to keep our shit together when we see each other every day. What’s going to happen when we don’t?”

  I try to keep the judgment from my face. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  He narrows his eyes a little and then turns his head from me. “No, I already fucking know what’s going to happen.”

  “Did you talk to her about it?”

  He nods. I wait for him to elaborate further—but he doesn’t. He changes the subject altogether.

  “Walker is pretty serious about this tattoo thing,” he says, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows.

  I tilt my head down to him. “He’s only done three, fairly decent, tattoos. I don’t think it’s time to make it a calling just yet.”

  Perry smiles, but there’s sadness behind it. “He wants to take care of you, Bishop.”

  I smile back, but get a nervous flutter in the pit of my stomach. Even though I’ve known Walker for most of my life, our relationship now is still fairly new. While I like the fact that he always talks about us in the long-term, I’m still only sixteen. Who knows where we’ll all be in five years? I lean back next to Perry and rest my arms behind my head.

  We’re quiet for a long while, just staring up at the night’s sky. I can tell that talking about next year is really bothering him. No matter how much I hate her for him—Perry loves Sloan. It’s one thing for them to break up for a few days, or weeks even, but the thought of what it looks like when they break up for good scares me.

  I turn my head toward him, unable to take the sadness in his mood. “I think Sloan loves you, too.”

  His eyebrows immediately shoot up in question. “What makes you say that? Especially since you hate her.”

  “I don’t hate her,” I say with an exaggerated sigh. “I hate the way she treats you most of the time. But I also know how it looks sometimes when you both are happy. I’ve never seen two people look at each other like that.”

  He smiles, clearly picturing the good times. “She’s my person. I knew it the moment I saw her. I can’t explain it, but it’s true.”

  Regardless of his deluded optimism, I think he believes that. That’s why he tries so hard to please her. He thinks that without Sloan, he couldn’t possibly be happy. I hope someday he realizes he’s wrong—but until then, I lie.

  “Maybe next year won’t be so bad,” I say, shrugging my shoulder a little. “I’m sure if you talk to Sloan, the two of you can figure it out.”

  Perry laughs once, sitting up. “You’re acting really strange tonight.”

  “No, I’m not.” I sit up too and try to appear truthful with my words.

  “Okay,” he says, reaching for another cigarette. He lights it and then nods to me. “You never defend my relationship, no matter what.”

  I pull my legs up and lower my eyes away from him. “I don’t like seeing you upset. Sometimes when I say things you get this look in your eye like I just stabbed you.” I look up at him and he’s staring right back at me. “I don’t want to be the one who causes you pain. I want to be the one who makes you feel better.”

  He gives me a crooked smile and leans forward to kiss my forehead. “You always make me feel better, Bishop. That will never change.”

  17

  Skin Deep

  Perry- Now

  Calling off work to spend the day with Tess seemed like the right thing to do. After yesterday, I’m not sure I could focus on anything anyway. Not that I have to take my job to
o seriously or anything.

  We agreed to meet back in the shop in an hour, so I’m currently at my house getting changed. I’m still walking around in just a pair of jeans when there’s a knock at my door. I see Sloan standing off to the side when I make my way over. She’s leaning against the railing of the porch as I open the door.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” I say, my voice clipped.

  I can’t see her expression through the large sunglasses on her face, but I can imagine she rolls her eyes at me. She shoves them on top of her head with a sigh. “I called you three times last night and you didn’t answer.”

  I laugh, crossing my arms. “Oh, I’m sorry. You looked so nice yesterday with your husband and all.”

  This time I see her eyes roll. “We’re not married yet, Perry.”

  I scoff. “Yeah, but you will be.”

  Sloan remains silent, pressing her lips into a hard line. After a moment she says, “Can I come in, or are you just going to stand there glaring at me?”

  “I was on my way out.”

  She looks me up and down quick. “You want to put on a shirt before you leave?”

  I smile, leaning in closer. “Why? You afraid someone might like what they see? A little competition for you.”

  She shoves me in the chest, knocking me back a step. “Don’t be cute.”

  With a sigh of my own, I walk back into the small apartment and she follows. I lean along the counter of the island in the kitchen. “So, what do you want?”

  The way she keeps gauging my reaction with her eyes tells me that she’s building up to something. I have a few guesses and none of them are what I want to deal with today.

  “I feel like our conversation the other day is unfinished.”

  I laugh again. “Seemed finished to me. I don’t want to sneak around with you. That’s not how I want things to be.”

  She lowers her eyes before looking up at me, her voice small. “That’s not how I want things to be either.”

  I shake my head, raising my arms and dropping them to my sides with a huff. “Then what do you want? I’m tired of trying to figure it out. I really am.”

  She shrugs, and the casual gesture makes me angry for some reason. “I want you.”

  “If that were true, we wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t be engaged to someone else and I wouldn’t be mentally fucking kicking myself for still wanting you.” I take a step closer to her. “I’ve said it before, but I really mean it this time. I can’t do this forever. I need something real, something solid to hold onto. Of all the years I spent loving you, I never once had a moment where I could actually breathe. I was always holding my breath waiting for the next time you were going to leave again. I refuse to live like that anymore.”

  Her eyes shift from mine and I can tell there’s something else gnawing away at her. “Where were you last night? You weren’t here.”

  “I was with Tess.”

  “All night?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I stayed with her after the memorial.”

  Her eyes narrow slightly. “That’s what I thought.”

  I laugh once. “Really? Are you fucking jealous of Bishop now?” I laugh again, taking a step back. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

  She crosses her arms, her features rigid. She’s actually serious. “It’s not completely irrational for me to assume something’s going on. She’s always had a thing for you.”

  I laugh harder this time. “That’s a crock of shit and you know it. You just want to blame me for something because you feel guilty about cheating on Johnny.”

  “Whatever,” she says, turning toward the door. Her long blonde hair flips over her shoulder as she takes determined steps away from me. I push in front of her and block her path.

  “Oh, you’re leaving now? Very typical of you, Sloan. The conversation doesn’t go your way, so you bail.”

  “Things were going just fine between me and you before you decided to freak out.”

  I pull my hand into my chest. “They were not fine. I don’t want your body, I want this.” I press my palm over her heart and she looks away from me. When I pull my hand back, she bites her lip. “If you can’t give me that, then we don’t need to do this anymore.”

  I step out of her way and she reaches for the door again. Right when I think she’s going to leave she turns back to me. “I gave you my heart when I was fifteen and you still have it. If you can’t see that, then you’re the one who has a problem.”

  When she storms out of the door my mind is completely blown. I thought I was fucked up.

  I get back to the shop twenty minutes later than I planned. My confrontation with Sloan had me so pissed off it took me longer than usual to get ready. I did manage to remember to stop and get Tess her favorite muffins from the bakery down the street. Regardless of my current mood, I’m determined to make this a good day for her.

  She smiles at me from the back of the shop. I set the box down on the counter, next to the register, before walking back to her.

  “I got the blueberry ones. I know they’re your favorite.” I give her a wink and slide into one of the empty chairs.

  “Thank you,” she says, glancing up briefly from the various shades of ink she has laid out on her tray.”

  My eyebrows pull in. “I thought you didn’t have any appointments today.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Okay,” I say, pushing up in my seat. “What exactly do you have planned?”

  She smiles. “You’re going to do me.”

  My male brain takes that to a place she probably didn’t mean. I smirk at her. “Well shit, Bishop. If that was your plan you should have told me last night.”

  She slaps my arm and I laugh. “No, you perv. I want you to finish my tattoo.”

  “That’s crazy. I haven’t touched a gun in over three years.”

  She shrugs, standing up from her stool. “Well, now’s your chance.”

  Tess proceeds to pull her shirt over her head, and I take a breath. I try to keep my eyes anywhere from where they want to land. There are several small tattoos over her chest and a long trail of butterflies up her side. She points to spot right along her ribcage.

  “I need you to finish the color. Walker never got around to fading the rest in and it looks unfinished.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. It looks so beautiful already. I don’t want to mess it up.”

  She smiles again, pulling me up from the chair. “You won’t.” When my eyes meet hers, she says, “You’re the only other person I’d ever let do my tattoos. I trust you.”

  I run my hand along her side, studying the intricate patterns. Over the years, Walker kept getting better and better. By the time of his death, there was a waiting list a mile long of people wanting him to do their ink. I’m not sure I can do it justice.

  I give her a pleading look. “Are you sure you don’t want to just have another professional do it?”

  She shakes her head firmly. “No, I want you.”

  The way she says that gives me a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’ve never been nervous around her, but for some reason, right now I am. With a sigh, I step out of the way of the chair.

  “If you insist.”

  Her smug smile confirms she does as she takes a seat in the chair. I move to the small stool beside her and pick up the machine she has set up for me. People always describe doing things they haven’t done in a while like riding a bike. It’s weird to pick something up after such a long time and just fall right back into it like you never left. That’s how I feel right now. There’s a comfort in doing this I didn’t realize I missed.

  Resting my hand below her ribcage, I poise the gun at her skin. This is a difficult spot to work with on anyone, let alone a smaller girl. Not a lot of skin to cushion the relentless needle.

  “You ready?” I ask.

  She nods and takes a breath. When the buzzing of the gun starts, I fall into my zone, carefully bleeding the ink into he
r skin. I can clearly see the patches he needed to finish and I focus on maintaining the vision he set out for her. I may not have gone to school for art like Mack, but the talent runs in our blood.

  After the first hour or so, Tess remains relatively still. When I get to particularly sensitive area, I glance up to see the pain on her face. She grimaces with her eyes squeezed shut and it’s like I can feel it, too.

  I run my free hand gently along her stomach. “Just breathe, Bishop,” I say, my voice soft. Her squinted eyes open and she looks at me warmly.

  “Don’t worry about me, you’re doing great.”

  Her hand comes to rest beside mine and the tips of our fingers thread together. Being close to your canvas is a normal part of this business, but right now with Tess, it feels intimate. Her body is as close to perfection as anything I’ve ever seen and I want to keep it that way.

  I keep my eyes focused on what I’m doing so the look in hers doesn’t distract me further.

  “I’m glad you made me do this. I really did miss it.”

  She gives my hand a squeeze and I feel her chest rise a little. “Me, too,” she breathes. “I always felt like you missed your calling when you didn’t want to go into business with us.”

  My heart starts to race a little faster. The real reason why I shied away from it has nothing to do with my passion about tattooing. It lies far deeper and is a conversation for another day. Today I want to do something for her that makes her feel better, not drudge up shit from our past we can’t change now. Instead, I smile up at her.

  “I’m working on it. I think I finally found what I’ve been searching for.”

  18

  The Eye of The Storm

  Perry- Now

  After the success of yesterday’s tattoo, Tess has convinced me to work with her. It actually didn’t take much convincing. I need to separate myself from my dad at the moment. Even though we never saw eye to eye on many things throughout my life, ever since I got back it’s reached a new level. He probably won’t agree with the decision either. That’s okay with me. I finally feel like this could be something I can be proud of and I hope he sees that.