“We still on for the gym tomorrow morning, right?” he asked and then took a sip from his cup. The crinkles around his eyes deepened as he smiled with what I assumed was appreciation for the caffeine.
“Nah, Kieran’s gotta take Mom to the doctor’s. Let’s shoot for Thursday?”
“Sounds good to me. Thanks for this.” Declan tipped his cup in my direction. “I didn’t sleep for shit last night either. Paige is starting to have a hard time sleeping. I guess having two humans growing inside of you is a lot harder than it looks.”
“Your meds don’t help?”
Declan avoided my eyes. “I haven’t been taking my sleep meds. What if Paige needs something?”
“Dex, you need—”
“I know.” Declan shifted his gaze to his work station.
“Do you?”
He exhaled a long sigh and shook his head. “Liam, I’m not going to fuck this up. If I need sleep I’ll take the meds, but I want to be there for Paige if she needs me. Those sleep meds knock me the hell out. I don’t like it.”
I’d taken care of Declan since he was thirteen. My father was too busy killing himself with liquor, and my mom, as good as she was, wanted to pretend like Declan needed God instead of a doctor. When he’d started hearing voices, when he tried to kill himself, I’d promised myself I’d never let him feel alone. It had been difficult to hand the torch over to Paige, and at times, even though I shouldn’t, I resented her. But she was good for him, and when he was around her, he was the Declan he should’ve always been. I was holding on to old ghosts, holding on to anything to feel relevant.
“I just worry.”
“Don’t, okay? I’m good. If I wasn’t, I’d tell you.” Declan narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’ll do me the same respect.”
I laughed without humor. “Me? I’m fucking living the dream, Dex.”
“What’s up?” he asked and sat down on his leather work table.
I looked down at my watch and tried, without much grace, to change the damn subject. “Where the hell is everyone? We open in twenty minutes.”
“Ronnie is in the breakroom with Kemp. Kieran texted me and said he was running late, and you’re not avoiding this question. You look like shit… why’d you go to the gym so early? Need to work off some steam? You and Tana okay?”
My posture stiffened. “There is no me and Tana. You know this.” I turned and headed to the front desk. I didn’t need this interrogation bullshit.
I wasn’t at the desk for more than a minute when I felt the warmth of Dex’s palm on my shoulder. “You’re not the only one who fucking worries, Liam. You expect me to tell you everything, but you—”
“Christ, Dex, Kelly called… again. And this time, I listened to her message.” I kept my voice down. Kemper and Ronnie didn’t need to know any of this.
“What did she say?” His eyes were wide as he released my shoulder, and I hated the hope that stared back at me.
“Not much.” I dropped my eyes to the appointment ledger. “I called her back. I wasn’t thinking straight, man. Tana was over, and I just… I fucking miss her.” The last few words clogged in my throat and all the coffee I’d had to stay awake turned to acid in my stomach.
“Did she answer?”
The anger and the rage from last night came flooding back, and the weight of it crashed against my chest. Every wave pressed against my sternum suffocating me.
“Come back to bed, baby.”
Those words were the fucking noose around my neck. And Declan’s hope, the light in his eyes, it was contagious, and I had no desire to be infected by it.
“I got her voicemail,” I lied and his eyes zeroed in on me.
He saw my cowardice. Hell, Dex saw everything, but instead of calling me out he just nodded his head and sipped from his coffee with an indifference he had perfected over the years. “Well, shit, maybe you’ll catch her next time?”
“Maybe.” I placed my coffee down on the desk.
“Are you gonna man the desk until Kieran gets here?”
“Sure. Your first appointment will be here pretty soon. I’ll send him back when he shows.” I let everything dissipate, rolled the toxic presence of feeling from my shoulders and stretched my neck to the right and then the left.
Ronnie was laughing about something as she stumbled from the breakroom with Kemper on her heels. He saw us up front and waved. “Morning, Boss.”
I gave Kemper a half-hearted smile and Ronnie snickered. “Chipper as always I see,” she said and beelined for her own station.
I gave her a smug one-finger salute, but her back was already turned so she missed it. Declan chuckled and placed his hand on my shoulder again. He leaned in and spoke so only I could hear him, “Whatever happened… just give her a chance.”
Dex didn’t give me the opportunity to answer before he walked away. I didn’t blame him for his rationality; his forgiving nature had won him the dream. He’d put all his chips in for Paige, and it paid off big time. But Kelly and I, we’d been playing this fucking game for far too long. She’d folded three years ago when she decided to move to California. I pulled my phone from my pocket and unlocked the screen. My thumb pressed down on the voicemail icon, and I listened to her message one last time before I deleted it.
Once Upon a Present
Nausea washed over me as Blake’s warm breath tickled my neck. His arms encircled my waist from behind, and his hot mouth left a wet trail along my skin. He hummed, and I felt him pause, felt his body go still when he realized I’d gone rigid with his touch. He slid his hands down my arms, uncurled my stiff fingers with his own as he pulled my cell phone from my hand. Blake threw the phone onto the kitchen counter and gripped my hips as he tightly whispered in my ear, “You’re going to do this to yourself again?”
It was an addiction, wounding myself once a week, but instead of a razor, I used Liam.
I sucked in as much air as I could muster, as much air as it would take to push the lump that had formed down my throat. I wiped the few tears I’d allowed to fall from under my eyes and turned to face him. I lifted my gaze to Blake’s green eyes, let it linger on his sun kissed skin. He was beautifully furious, with sharp angles and full lips.
His thick brown brows dipped into a knot. “Why did you call him again? He doesn’t answer.”
He hadn’t answered, but he’d returned the call. I’d heard the fear and the anger he harbored in every edged breath he’d bestowed upon me tonight. Blake narrowed his eyes and cast the only barb he had. “Shit, Kelly, after all this time, he doesn’t care about you.”
Blake was right, hope was a sickness. Liam didn’t care, not anymore, not after I left him behind.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I wasn’t entirely sure my apology was meant for Blake.
I’d never set out to hurt anyone, but it seemed my blades were sharper than I’d ever thought possible.
“That’s the thing, babe, I don’t think you are.” He dropped his hold on me and took a step back.
“I am.” The lie tasted stale on my tongue.
His eyes were locked on my face but I avoided his stare. Instead, I ruefully watched his bare, caramel-toned chest, hardened like stone, expand as he fought to breathe. I shouldn’t have brought him home tonight. Our week-long shoot was over tomorrow, and we’d both been down this road too many times. Blake was a means to an end, and I was no different for him. Relief, sex, human contact in a world where it’s frowned upon to be human, to show the “real” you. We were company when lonely became hard to bear. Promises weren’t my thing, at least not anymore, but neither was sleeping with coworkers. Casual can get messy, and I didn’t need any more mess in my life. I didn’t do sleepovers or relationships, but I’d finally caved when he’d asked to actually stay over tonight. I had nothing more left in me to give, everything I’d had to offer had already been taken, discarded, thrown into a pint of alcohol, and left to deteriorate over time.
“I’ve known you for a while now.” Blake’s eyes snaked
down my body. The heat of his stare blazed along my exposed skin as he took a step toward me again. “We’ve been on countless shoots together, and I know that guy back home didn’t choose you, didn’t take the leap you wanted. And in my opinion, he’s an idiot.”
Blake didn’t get it, but the way he was looking at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and hope, that was all my fault. I’d opened up to him a few months ago out of weakness. It was right after I’d called Liam for the first time and he hadn’t answered. It’d been a foolish mistake to call him, but it’d been so long since I’d heard Liam’s voice. I wasn’t sure why, but at the time, I’d needed to hear it, needed it to resonate inside the walls of my heart so I could remember where I’d come from, what I’d let myself forget… what I’d lost. I hadn’t been able to fall asleep that night and was supposed to shoot a cover with Blake the next day. But, when I’d showed up looking like I’d been hit by a truck, the make-up artist had flipped. I’d lost it, cried, right there in front of everyone. Later, after I’d let Blake talk me into a bottle of wine, I’d told him my entire sob story. I hardly ever drank and I’d let the alcohol loosen my lips. It was a stupid, desperate thing to do, but after you’ve had everything taken from you, your limits for what you’re willing to endure decrease. Blake and I had only ever been friends with benefits, but after that night, things started to shift, and I’d felt the suffocating weight of his expectations bearing down on me ever since.
“I don’t want to talk about Liam.” My ass hit the granite countertop as Blake’s broad shoulders crowded me.
“Then why’d you call him?” He raised his hand to my cheek, and the smile that danced across his lips died as I turned away.
Because I can’t let go.
Because he was the one who was supposed to rescue me.
Because he’s my dark knight, my painted prince.
For the past three years, I’d let myself pretend that my dream had turned out to be everything I wanted, losing myself in models and photographers. I worked hard to make a name for myself, I’d even acquired an agent. I played hard, ran the game, and gave them a smile every day. They bought it. Men ate it up. I was a no-nonsense type of girl, good for a night. Sexy and independent. No one knew, or maybe they just didn’t care, that I was slipping further from the truth of who I’d once wanted to be. I hated myself. Hated every inch of my skin, my lips, my fake as fuck smile.
Soulless.
“That’s a question a boyfriend would ask, and the last time I checked…” I tried to smile as I leaned in, tried to lighten the mood as I ran my hands up his chest and rested them on his shoulders, but his lips set in a firm line. “Come on, Blake, this isn’t anything more than—”
“Fucking?” He exhaled an angry breath and pulled his hand through his messy brown hair as he took a few steps away from me. “Is that all you want?”
“It’s all I can handle right now.” The vulnerability in my voice coated my skin with goose bumps.
I’d made an error when I offered Blake a standing invitation to my bed. But I’d allowed it because he was everything Liam was not. He was clean-cut, shiny, and smiled too much. He was a model and, just like me, he played the game. He was easy and good at making me forget, even if it was only for a couple of hours.
Blake’s posture softened as he moved toward me. His hand slipped under the thin cotton of my tank top, and he palmed my breast. “Come back to bed, beautiful,” he whispered with a gorgeously phony smile, setting my heart into a painfully hammered beat.
Beautiful.
I despised the word and the sweet way it rolled off his tongue.
I never wanted sweet.
I wanted ink, and dirt. Grit and grease. I wanted a five o’clock shadow that left me raw, fingers that bruised and marred my perfect flesh. I wanted teeth and passion.
I wanted Liam.
Blake’s mouth covered mine and, as the heat of his touch spread slowly over my skin, I settled for the pale truth—what I wanted would never be reality.
“Show me that sad girl.” Dante smirked and he snapped a few shots. “Perfect!” he shouted over the beat of the music that played loudly from overhead speakers.
We were inside the studio finishing up a few solo shots, and Blake had disappeared an hour ago, leaving me in the spotlight. The stylist had dressed me in a skimpy black dress that barely covered my ass. My long hair was pulled into knots and fashioned into a faux hawk. I relished in the black high-top chucks I got to wear, and my lips curved into a smile.
Dante whined, “No, no, no. Look down, give me edgy, show me that inner black swan, spread your angry little wings.”
As much as I wanted to laugh at Dante’s ridiculous direction, he was my favorite photog. He was always able to capture me in a way no other photographer could. I tilted my head to the right and bit my bottom lip as I looked down the lens from under my long, false lashes.
“Christ, you’re my queen.” Dante kept shooting as I moved seamlessly under the light.
The word queen swirled in my head and darkened my mood.
“That’s everything.” Dante lowered his camera. “We’ll shoot you and the other girls tomorrow. Five a.m. sharp.”
I groaned.
“Don’t pout, it gives you wrinkles. And, Lord knows, you’re getting old as it is.” Dante winked at me and I laughed.
“You’re so lucky I love you,” I said as I threw my arm over his shoulder. “You’re my favorite little man.” I leaned down and kissed the top of his bald head.
“Flattery will get you everywhere. Dinner?” He handed his camera to his assistant and followed me back to the dressing rooms.
“Michael’s as usual?” I asked as I slipped out of my dress carefully and handed it to the wardrobe assistant. Being naked in front of multiple people lost its fear factor ages ago.
“Do you even need to ask?” His incredulous tone reached the height of his sculpted eyebrows. “Get un-beautiful. I’m going to look at these shots.”
“I’ll take a quick shower.”
He gave me a knowing smile. “See you in forty-five minutes.”
The hot water begged to be savored as I scrubbed my hair, paying close attention to the spots where my scalp ached. The soap trickled past my stomach and, as always, I tried to ignore the sinking feeling I got when I looked at the tattoo on my hip. My fingertips traced the crown, swirling soap over the black ink. Liam, I thought, had been the key to my survival. My silly seventeen-year-old heart fell for the storybook ending he’d promised me so many years ago. He was supposed to be here, leading me—keeping me safe from the nightmares I’d never really been able to shake. Liam and I had been equals. We had an intricately shared misery. Over the years, our planned path had given me light and longing when all I’d ever waded in was fear and doubt. But I’d waited too long, let myself become caged in a fantasy. Without realizing it, our future had begun to look a lot like those nightmares. My throat narrowed as the panic seeped into my lungs. I turned off the water, letting my skin cool until I began to shiver. I took even breaths, shutting out the memories, locking them away inside my bones, deep inside the marrow where they belonged, and stepped out of the shower.
In my defense, I was quicker than normal, despite Dante’s lack of faith. I’d opted for a quick blow dry and a messy bun. No make-up, soft black, straight leg slacks, and a crème colored sweater. It was such a stark contrast to how I’d looked a little over a half an hour ago. I grabbed my bag and shoveled past several pens, my packet of birth control, gum, and at least five different shades of lip-gloss as I looked for my phone. A few years ago, I would’ve never recognized the girl who owned this purse. The blue light on my cell was blinking, and when I opened the lock screen, everything around me fell silent. My past barreled through all of my defenses as I pressed the voicemail icon and brought my phone to my ear.
“Kelly, it’s… it’s Mom. Listen, I know… I know it’s hard for you to take time off, but your Dad… Kelly he’s struggling. He was admitted ag
ain to the hospital today. Too much fluid in his stomach…” The line was quiet as I listened to my mother catch her breath. “He’s not… he’s not doing real good and… I just need you… I need you… Just come home. Do it for me… okay?”
The line went dead, and my hand shook as I placed my phone back into my bag. I raised my fingertips to my cheek and stared into the dressing room mirror. I was twenty-nine years old, and I could still feel the sting of him… of my father’s hand. I tilted my head to the right, allowing the light to reflect off the arch of my cheekbone. It was his favorite thing to do when he was sloppy drunk, punish me for his mistakes. Hurt me, so he didn’t have to feel his own pain.
My eyes fell to my purse and the pounding of my heart roared behind my temples.
I can’t go home.
I can’t go back.
I was that useless little girl again, just a pretty face. My dad had always been right. It was why I never dreamed of going to college. L.A. was supposed to be my escape plan. I’d wanted to get as far away as possible from that life. Far away from my convenience store job and white trash roots. But, I’d done exactly what my father had told me to do.
“Use your beauty, girl, because it’s all you’ll ever have.”
I lifted my phone and listened to the message over and over again. I let my mother’s voice, her weathered and beaten words hit me, tear through my thin flesh until I made my choice.
I thumbed through my contacts and pressed the call button.
The phone rang twice.
“Kelly?”
“My father’s sick.” This was crazy. But I couldn’t go alone. I couldn’t go back there and get sucked in. I needed a life vest. “Blake… I…” Tears spilled from my eyes and guilt closed my throat. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll come with you.”
It was the answer I’d wanted, but shame stirred in my stomach. I gripped the phone tightly and closed my eyes, unable to look at myself in the mirror.
“You don’t—”
Kingdom (Avenues Ink Series Book 2) Page 4