Kingdom (Avenues Ink Series Book 2)

by A. M. Johnson

  “When do you leave?”

  I opened my eyes and faced the monster inside the reflection of the glass. “I’m not sure. I just found out. Maybe after the shoot tomorrow?”

  “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  He was being a good guy, and I shouldn’t drag him through this, no matter how scared I was. “Blake, I think I need to—”

  “You wouldn’t have called me if you wanted to go back on your own.” His long sigh rattled through the phone. “I know this isn’t some grand gesture, Kelly. It’s you needing someone to lean on. This doesn’t change anything.”

  “Then why?”

  “Not everyone comes with strings.”

  I shouldn’t believe a word of what he was saying. Everything had a price, every part of my new life was give and take. Nothing was ever for free or by mercy. But, the phantom pain of my father’s hand scorched across my cheek, and the thought of seeing him, bearing all the weight of that hate on my own, it nearly brought me to my knees. I didn’t plan on staying that long, just long enough to help my mother, and to possibly say a final goodbye to the man who’d haunted me all my life. I wouldn’t let myself think about Liam. If I did, I’d never find the will to get on that plane.

  My lips trembled as I said, “I’ll text you the flight info tomorrow.”

  I hit the end button before I could change my mind, before I could think about the ramifications of it all, before I would let myself believe for one minute that Liam would actually even care.

  She wished for pecan pie and the smell of cinnamon. Turkey and stuffing instead of microwavable pot pies. The young girl poked the overly cooked crust with the tip of her fork and frowned. Her sister laughed, and the sound of it made the girl feel better just like it used to.

  “It’s not that bad,” her sister said quietly.

  The girl giggled under her breath and scooped a large portion of mush onto her fork and brought it to her mouth. The steam hurt her lips, so she blew lightly onto the fork to cool it down. She sniffed it once and then licked it with her tongue. It was too salty and it smelled funny, but she felt her father’s eyes on her so she ate it anyway.

  The dinner table stayed silent, and the sound of metal scraping across her family’s plates was enough to make her cringe with every bite.

  “It’s really good to have you home, Tracey.” The girl’s mother smiled and Tracey nodded her head.

  “I was missing this little one.” Tracey mussed the girl’s hair playfully with her hand.

  “You’re no better than us, we’d have fared just fine without you… what’s one more Thanksgiving? Should’ve stayed at school.” The girl’s father lifted his beer bottle to his mouth and sipped with sloppy lips.

  The girl ignored her father; his behavior was nothing new, and she hoped with her sister here, he’d maintain his temper. He wasn’t good to Tracey, but he never hit her as far as the girl could remember, but then again, he hadn’t drank as much before she’d left either. Her sister… she was so much older than her, and that ten-year difference came with freedom. There were times, at night, when she’d wish it was her sister reading to her instead of her mom. Only because her mother was always so tired, and Tracey had always given the characters a voice. She made the flat pages of her storybooks come alive, but after her sister had left for college, her stories became still life characters once again, and her every day a painful reminder of what she’d never have.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I won’t be here long.”

  Her sister’s declaration sucked the air from the girl’s lungs. The fear immobilized her and, if she could, she’d pack herself away in her sister’s suitcase and go with her. Tracey reached under the table and squeezed the girl’s thigh. The touch didn’t do much to stave off the terror or the longing to fade into the back noise of her life, because just like hope, her sister would eventually abandon her, as well.

  Once Upon a Time

  Pain, it was a sheet to hide under as the needle placed ink permanently into my skin. His touch, the way he watched me, I’d had to close my eyes. I let the sound of the tattoo shop drone on, I let Kathy prattle in the background as I focused all my attention on the feeling of his one hand. He’d cycle between resting it on my stomach and thigh as his other hand punished my flesh, ripped it open, and left his mark. When he’d recited the three words from The Painted Prince, “Queen of Night,” the air had changed, and the heat of the room had blanketed me in a calm I’d never had the privilege of feeling in my entire life. I don’t think I was supposed to hear him say it, and it made it easier to ignore how much he’d pissed me off earlier with all his assumptions. I fell into the weird link that connected us, even if I was only imagining it.

  His hands were on my body. Those hands and fingers had probably created so many beautiful, dark, and colorful things. Maybe he’d be able to shape me into something worth keeping. I kept my eyes shut and dreamed up scenarios where I was his princess. He’d show up at my work or school and sweep me off my feet, take me far away from this city, my father, this life. I let the fantasy steady my breathing as the machine moved across the hollow of my right hip. I pretended that my lips weren’t shaking and my eyes weren’t pricked with tears as the sting of the needle burned and promised to never stop. Time stood still and, when he lifted his hand from my belly, wiped a cool cloth across my body, I relished in the rough texture of the towel as it itched away the pain for a few seconds.

  “You can breathe now.” His voice was low and warm against my ear. It filled my heart and dried the tears that pooled in the corner of my eyes. He chuckled. “Open your eyes, Princess.”

  I heard Kathy laugh, and when my eyes opened, instead of the deep coffee brown eyes I’d been dreaming about, I was met with bright white light and red curls hovering over my right side.

  “Kelly, this is so cool.” Kathy took a step back when Liam stood from his stool.

  He took off his gloves and tossed them somewhere behind him. He held out his hand and I took it as I sat up. His callused palm swallowed mine. The coarse feel of it stirred the butterflies in my stomach and, as I inhaled deeply, my head felt light. My knees were liquid, and Liam’s laugh was the only thing keeping me from falling into the blurred water at my feet. He dropped my hand and grasped my waist with both of his hands.

  “Whoa.” Liam’s lips broke into a broad smile. It spread across his face and it flooded his eyes. The brown color glimmered and burst with flecks of gold.

  All the steel and anger had been replaced with soft, patient lines. “I think you stood up too fast.”

  I felt like a doe on ice as he held me steady with his strong grip. “I’m a little dizzy,” I admitted.

  “It happens sometimes. All that adrenaline kicks in, trying to help you forget the pain, and it builds up. I should’ve let you lie there for a minute,” he said, never once dropping his gaze. The intense way his eyes reached out to mine only made my legs feel more like noodles and less like bones.

  I felt a little drunk as I said, “I’m fine.”

  He laughed softly and risked removing his right hand from my waist. My lips parted as he raised his fingers and pushed a piece of my hair behind my ear, letting his thumb dust across my cheek. The limited space between us pulsed as he whispered, “You need to breathe.”

  I took several, small, easy breaths, inhaling his unique scent of wood smoke, leather, and earth. It centered me, and eventually my head cleared, and my legs actually felt solid again.

  “Your color is back… I think I can let you go.”

  Please don’t.

  His fingers tightened briefly around my waist before he released me. His eyes lingered on mine, and I wished I was woman enough, old enough, to have him.

  “Oh, my God, you almost passed out,” Kathy squeaked, and the spell between Liam and I faded as he turned away.

  “I’m okay.” I waved her off.

  “If you’re okay, I’m gonna pee before we leave. Meet you at the car?” I nodded and, as she turned to leave, she
said, “Oh, and by the way, I paid for yours.” Before I could protest she disappeared beyond the partition of Liam’s station.

  “She’s in trouble,” I muttered to no one in particular.

  Liam laughed. “Don’t worry, it didn’t take more than an hour. It didn’t cost her much.” Neither of us had a lot of money. I’d pay her back some way. Make-up always did the trick. “Aren’t you even going to look at it?” He lowered his eyes to my hip.

  I looked down at my right hip and gasped, raising my eyes to the full-length mirror. I stepped closer to get a better look and pulled back the fabric of my jean shorts, marveling at the perfect replication of the crown from my childhood favorite. “Liam, this…” My throat closed as an overwhelming, and oddly timed wave of emotion hit me. “It’s just like I remembered.”

  He stood next to me, both of our bodies filled the reflection, and a cocky grin lifted the right side of his mouth. “I’m not some hack. I’ve been at this awhile.”

  I locked my eyes on his in the mirror. “How old are you?”

  His grin fell into a stern line. “Nineteen.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “May twenty-first.”

  I couldn’t help it, maybe it was relief, or the way he’d said it like it was rude of me to ask, but I giggled.

  “What?” He cocked his brow, and that handsome smile twitched the corners of his lips again.

  “You act like such a hard ass, and you’re only eighteen months older than me.”

  He shook his head, turned to his work station, grabbed some type of lotion, gloves, and turned back to me. He ignored my previous statement as he donned the gloves and squeezed what looked like ointment onto his fingers. I was still watching him in the mirror when he applied the cold salve to my skin. His fingers gently skated along the inked crown, and I shivered.

  “Sorry, but it’s a necessity,”

  I didn’t have the guts to tell him it was his touch, not the cold ointment that had my entire body covered in goose bumps. “I don’t mind it.”

  He finished, snapped the tube shut, and placed it on the counter. Without one word, he was all business as he pulled some plastic wrap and tape from a container on his station.

  Liam covered my tattoo and said, “You can zip up your shorts now…” He avoided my eyes as I slowly raised the zipper, steering clear of the plastic wrap, and buttoned my shorts. He continued, “Just keep it covered overnight.” Liam removed his gloves, threw them in the trash can behind him, and opened the drawer of his work station. He rummaged through it and pulled out two small white bags. “Here.” He handed the bag over to me. “This has a sample of the lotion you’ll need and instructions telling you how to take care of it during the healing process. Give one to your friend. And…” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to me.

  I scanned the black and emerald green swirls of ink that spelled out his name, Liam O’Connell, across the heavy stock. I turned the card over in my hand. The shop name, Avenues Ink, and number were centrally displayed in a typewriter font, including his personal cell just below it. I raised my chin and caught him staring at me. He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck as he said, “Just in case.”

  In case of what? In case I wanted more ink, but he left it open, left me hanging on a branch, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to hold on. My bottom lip raked between my teeth as I toyed with an idea. His eyes landed on my mouth, and I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. My stomach tightened as he licked his lips, and an ache formed at the apex of my thighs. My nerves stretched and pulled as I leaned past him, brushing my body against his, and grabbed a pen from the counter. I laid his card on the brown leather table and scribbled my name and number just below his own name. When I handed it to him, his face had lost every hard edge, and the teenaged boy emerged as he scanned the card.

  “Just in case,” I said with more swagger than I had any right to. His smile pulled into a sexy lopsided grin as he put the card into his pocket. He shook his head and watched me as I took a step backward and gave him a wave of my fingers right before I turned and walked away.

  It was next to impossible to keep my fingernails away from the scabbed skin of my new tattoo. I’d done exactly liked the instructions had said, but still, all I wanted to do was scratch and pick the damn thing.

  “Ah-Ah-Ah,” Kathy scolded as I dipped my finger below the waistline of my jean shorts. “It will look like shit if you scrape off the scabs.” She shook her head as she counted the cash. She was a ninja, she wasn’t even looking at me.

  “Are you the freaking tattoo police?”

  “No, but I paid for it, so…”

  I laughed as she smiled and shut the cash register drawer. The Handy Mart had just closed about fifteen minutes ago, and while I wiped down the counters, Kathy had chosen to count the till.

  “I’m going to drop this money in the safe, and then we can get out of here. School starts tomorrow and I’m a nervous wreck. New school, new hot boys, I need my beauty rest.” She flapped the banded cash in the air with feeling as she walked behind me and bumped me with her hip. “Any luck with Prince Charming?” she asked as she stepped from behind the counter.

  “Nope, still nothing.”

  It had been five days since I’d met Liam and boldly given him my number. Five days of wondering, anticipation, and nails bitten to the quick. Still not a word. I don’t know why I’d even thought that he would call. He was nineteen, worked a real job, and probably already had a girlfriend. Guys like that always had girlfriends.

  “His loss.”

  Kathy disappeared into the back room while I shut off all the lights. The security lights kicked on and cast the store in a pale glow as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. It was one of those pay-as-you-go phones we’d gotten in last month, and even though I really couldn’t afford it, it was nice to have. The only downside was it gave an all access pass to my mother who called me at least one hundred times a day. It was hard for my mom, being alone all the time now that I was older. My sister, Tracey, had left years ago. Full scholarship to the University of Connecticut. Where I had beauty, she was blessed with book smarts and a brain big enough to store it all. She used it as a one way ticket out of here. From time to time she’d surprise us, stop in for a holiday and then vanish like a fog under the heat of the morning sun. She’d created a new world for herself and left Mom and me to fend for ourselves. She had no idea how bad Dad had gotten, and as far as it seemed, she didn’t give a shit. So I let my mom call me, hound me, I was all she had left. I exhaled and grabbed my bag from where I’d kept it under the counter, removed the store keys from the side pocket, and waited for Kathy. The guilt in my stomach soured. I wanted out of here just as bad as Tracey had…

  My phone chirped and stopped the domino effect happening inside my head. I rolled my eyes. Of course my mother would call right now, a nice little reminder of the knife I planned on putting in her back one day when I finally left just like my sister. I pocketed the store keys and I pressed the menu button. A small envelope popped up onto the screen.

  Nobody texted me except for Kathy.

  Unknown Number: I figured I’d check in on you, just in case.

  My mouth broke into a face splitting smile.

  Me: Took you long enough. I could have died from this infection.

  I hit send and chewed my bottom lip as I waited.

  Liam: Looks like you lived.

  I narrowed my eyes, even via text his hard attitude showed.

  Me: Well, you’ve checked up on me, I’m alive.

  I pressed the send button and waited for a response.

  Nothing.

  Kathy came out from the back office, and I slid my phone into the side pocket of my bag. She was my ride to work and school, and tonight was no different. I was quiet on the way to my house, worried I’d pissed him off or said the wrong thing. Kathy talked about school, what she planned on wearing tomorrow, and I hadn’t really processed anything she’d said.

/>   “Seven, Kelly, are you listening?” Kathy raised her eyebrows, and I shook myself out of my anxious haze.

  We were parked in my driveway, and my shoulders eased when I realized my father’s car was missing. “No, sorry, what were you saying?”

  She laughed. “I’ll be here at seven in the morning. Be ready, I don’t want to be late on our first day.”

  “I’ll be ready,” I said and opened her car door.

  We said our goodbyes and, when I walked through the front door, I was hit with the familiar rancid smell of old bacon grease and cigarettes. My mother was working a grave, my father was most likely down the road at the bar, and I allowed myself a moment to be grateful I was alone tonight. I threw my bag on my bed and my phone fell from the side pocket. I ignored it as I pulled open my top drawer and picked out my pajamas for the night. Normally, I’d shower off the grime of the day, but I wanted to shower in the morning before school instead. I went through my routine, washed my face, and pulled back my hair. I brushed my bag off the bed and plopped down onto the mattress to settle in for the night. The springs whined under my weight as I snuggled under the covers.

  After about thirty seconds of gut wrenching anxiety, I caved and picked up my phone.

  I had a message… from him.

  The time stamp on his message read eleven-oh-five. It was eleven-thirty. The stubborn part of me, the part that lived through the Kavanagh daily shit storm, wanted to throw the phone on the floor and say the hell with it. But the softer side, the side that craved his hands, his callused palms, his dark eyes, begged me to open the message.

  Liam: I want to take you out tomorrow.

  My heart hummed, and my stomach dropped into oblivion. How did I tell the sexy as hell tattoo artist who I was dying to hang out with that tomorrow was a school night?

  My thumb hovered over the plastic keys. I took a breath and threw my sense, right along with caution, into the wind.

  Me: What time? I have school.