Hot Ink

by Carrie Ann Ryan;Cari Quinn;Sidney Bristol

  “That Lucky Tiger Tattoo?”

  “Yeah, for a while.” Inwardly she cringed.

  “Wait, you used to tattoo, didn’t you?”

  Shit, fuck and damn it all to hell.

  “Yeah, I pretended to.” She shoved her hands into her pockets.

  “More than pretended to. Had a guy come in here a few years ago after being deployed. Needed to get some stuff added to it, but no one here could match your style. Had to send him to a guy in Florida. Why don’t you do it anymore?”

  She shrugged. “Didn’t pay the bills.”

  “Shoot. I know how that is. I used to work two jobs and tattoo from my kitchen table when I got off.” He shook his head.

  Renee breathed a little easier. She’d gotten so far away from anything remotely connected to her old profession, she had no idea what to expect even coming in here.

  “Well, if you decide to get back in it, we’ve got a chair open.” He patted his pockets.

  “I haven’t tattooed anyone in years. You don’t want me—”

  “It’s like riding a bicycle. Here.” He handed her one of the shop’s cards with his name and an alternate number scrawled on the back.

  She took it, not wanting to be rude. The truth was, she couldn’t give up the security of her day job. She’d lived too long eating dollar menus and scraping by back then. Now, she had a place to live, a life and she kind of liked it. And yet, her fingers itched to pick up a machine in a way they never did with paint or pastels.

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” she said.

  Kit turned toward her, brows lifted. She wiggled her fingers at him. Just because one guy was nice to her didn’t mean she wasn’t going to strangle Kit for this stunt. He waved her over.

  “Excuse me?” she said to the man.

  “Of course, of course.”

  She joined Kit’s circle and he draped an arm around her waist in a possessive hold.

  “Renee, this is one of the coolest guys I know, Dave. Dave, this is Renee.”

  Dave paused wiping down his client’s calf and glanced between Kit and her. He had a geek-chic-meets-hipster style, with big, thick glasses, a trucker hat and clothes that were about a size too small for him, but it worked. “The Renee?”

  The Renee what?

  She peered up at Kit. What exactly was that supposed to mean?

  Kit chuckled and if she wasn’t mistaken, his cheeks were a tad bit pink under his beard. “Yeah, this is the Renee.”

  “Damn, man.” Dave started to extend his hand to her but stopped. “I feel like I know you. Dude here used to talk about you a lot. Said you wiped the floor with his ass.”

  Renee opened her mouth to reply, but what did she say to that? Sure, she’d been hard on him, but she’d had issues back then.

  “Yeah, I always said she was a better artist than me,” Kit replied.

  Renee glanced between the two. Oh. Oh. He wasn’t talking about how she’d treated him at all.

  “What do you do?” One of the other artists asked.

  “Uh, well, nothing now. I stopped a couple years ago.” It felt awkward saying that in front of working artists.

  “What?” Dave stared at her.

  When she got out of here, Kit was so dead.

  “Yeah, so, you guys are busy. We’re going to go,” Kit said.

  “You just got here.” Dave frowned as he slathered his client’s new tattoo in A&D ointment.

  “I was just dropping in to say hi. Hi.” Kit waved.

  “You haven’t even told me about Tattoo King, man. I want to hear about all the stupid, behind the scenes shit.” Dave stuck his lower lip out.

  “You’re going to be around for a few days. We’ll hang out.” Kit stepped back, dragging her with him. Someone was in a hurry to make a quick exit.

  “Fine. You have my number.” Dave waved and the others dispersed.

  Renee smiled at the older artist as they left. Her stomach grumbled the moment her feet hit the sidewalk.

  “What about food?” she asked.

  “Want to grab something?”

  “Not really. I have a bunch of stuff in my fridge at home, besides, Peaches is going to need another injection, so I’d like to get back sometime soon.” She climbed into the truck, realizing that maybe Kit had other things he wanted to do today. “Do you just want to drop me at home, or…?”

  “Do you want me to leave you alone? If you do, just say it.” He reversed the truck and merged into the light traffic.

  “It’s whatever you want to do.” She stared out of her window, conflicted. Being with Kit was easy. She wanted him to hang around, but now that they’d had sex it was more complicated. Her feelings for him were more real than they were ten years ago. She was a sorry, love struck sap where he was concerned.

  “I guess I could clean some of Mick’s stuff out of his shed.”

  “Oh yeah, I hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

  “No reason for you to do it all.”

  This wasn’t what she wanted at all.

  * * * *

  Kit drove just under the speed limit and anytime a light changed colors he stopped. He’d thought the day was going well. There wasn’t any lingering awkwardness between them after last night and despite the odd activities, they were enjoying each other’s company. He needed an excuse to see her again, but was coming up dry on reasons. She had a life and friends that he wasn’t part of, though he wanted to be.

  “What are you doing tonight?” It was such a lame question, but he was getting desperate.

  “I don’t know, maybe finish that picture?”

  “Do I get to see it anytime soon?” Sure, he’d seen it, but he still had a favor to call in and he wanted to peep at the finished product.

  “No.” She smiled and glanced out of the window.

  “So, uh, have you seen that new superhero movie?” He turned on her street. There wasn’t a lot of time to line something up now. He needed to make it happen.

  Renee sat forward in her seat as he pulled up to her house.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “The curtains, they’re all pulled.”

  “So?” He peered at the front of the house.

  “I leave the front curtains open so Peaches can look out while I’m gone. He likes to sit in the windowsill.” She pushed the passenger door open with one hand and pulled her cell phone out of her purse with the other.

  Kit scrambled to get out and around the truck. He grabbed her elbow.

  “Hold on, at least let me go first.” He wasn’t convinced there was anything wrong, but he wasn’t about to let her walk in there first.

  “Okay. Here.” She handed him her keys and hovered as he unlocked the door and pushed it in. “There…”

  He’d been about to say, There, you see? Nothing wrong. Except then he actually saw the inside.

  “Oh my god.” Renee gasped and darted past him. “Peaches? Here Peaches!”

  “Renee, stop.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the house. “What if someone is still in there?”

  “Shit. You’re right.” She shook in his arms, leaning heavily against him.

  He took her phone and dialed 9-1-1 as they stood on the stoop.

  “Give it to me, I’ll know the operator,” Renee said. She took the phone and immediately began speaking to whoever was on the other line.

  Kit leaned through the door and listened, but the only sound was Renee’s panicked voice.

  “Peaches?” he called.

  No answer.

  Shit.

  He stepped into the living room and peered around. Someone had really trashed the place. It looked like something out of a movie. Ripped pillows, busted canvases, overturned furniture, and that was just the beginning.

  “Kit, what are you doing? Get out of there,” Renee said.

  “I’m just looking for Peaches. Stay out there.” She didn’t need to see this. It would devastate her.

  He picked his way through the living room, past the kitc
hen and peered down the hall. The backdoor at the end of the kitchen stood open. There was no sound of movement or someone else in the house. He did a quick search of the rooms, but the general mess was the same everywhere. Even her studio, though the picture she’d been working on last night sat untouched against the wall.

  Kit exited through the back door and surveyed the yard. She had a privacy fence. The side gate was also open, so it appeared that the intruder had slipped into the back yard, broken in and trashed the place. It was strange though. There was a lot of destruction, but things like her TV hadn’t been touched.

  There was still no Peaches in sight.

  He went back into the house and searched each room, peering under furniture and in closets, but no cat.

  “Kit?” Renee yelled.

  “Yeah?”

  “Cops are here.”

  There was something really off about this. He’d seen his share of theft aftermaths, and this was something else. It was like a movie.

  He stepped out of the front door. Two officers stood on the walk with Renee, one hand over her mouth, her cell phone clutched in her other hand. He took two steps and wrapped her in his arms. She exhaled slowly and rested her head on his chest.

  “Did you find Peaches?” Her voice was high and thin. He wanted to tell her yes.

  “No. We’ll find him,” he had to say instead.

  “He’s micro chipped, but if he doesn’t get his next dose of insulin he’s going to start feeling bad. I need to find him.” Her voice broke and she pressed her face into his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Renee,” the female cop said.

  “Hey, we can help look if you want,” the other male cop chimed in.

  Renee nodded, but continued clinging to him.

  The officers began asking questions. They clearly knew her, but then again she probably worked with them. After about ten minutes of chatting, the duo went inside to check it out for themselves before asking Renee to join them to identify anything missing. Just like he’d thought, she was able to find all of her valuable, small pieces and the electronics were, for the most part, fine and accounted for.

  He hated the feeling of being helpless. That Renee needed him to put things back together, and he couldn’t. There was no superglue in the world that could put the ripped remains of her home back together.

  It was strange. The whole thing was just plain wrong.

  * * * *

  “Peaches!” Renee dropped her hands to her sides and peered up and down the street. She no longer recognized where they were. They’d walked far beyond her little collection of streets.

  “Peaches, here kitty, kitty, kitty.” Kit’s voice made her jump, but only because she hadn’t realized how close he was.

  Renee couldn’t put together a coherent thought. She was completely unable to process the destruction at her house with Peaches being gone. One of the first things she’d checked was the condition of her refrigerator, which had only been pulled away from the wall. Her bottle of insulin was just fine.

  “Maybe we should go back toward the house. He’s an indoor cat, right?” Kit cupped her shoulders and pulled her against his chest.

  “Sometimes I’d let him out in the backyard if I was there with him, but that was it. He’s not an outdoor cat.”

  “Okay, so he probably wouldn’t go far. Let’s go back to the house and try again.”

  She nodded and let Kit take her hand in his. They walked all the way to her street before he stopped and called for Peaches again. Her neighbors who were home had all promised to keep an eye out, but she didn’t have a lot of faith they’d actually look for him.

  What if Peaches couldn’t find water? He’d already missed his noon injection and it was heading into the hotter afternoon hours. He needed water, and he’d have no idea how to go about finding it. He hadn’t had to fend for himself.

  Kit left the sidewalk and crept through the yard at the end of the street. At the hedges along the house he went to his hands and knees.

  “Do you see something?” she asked, clutching her tissues.

  He didn’t answer, but he did reach under the hedges. A familiar, very pissed off hiss sliced through the suburban calm. She stared as Kit hauled an orange puffball out from under the bushes. Her jaw dropped and it took her a second to realize the mud-streaked animal was her Peaches.

  She rushed to Kit’s side as he cradled the crabby animal to his chest. It was a bit of a forced cuddling since Peaches was firmly into his I don’t feel good stage.

  “Oh Peaches.” She rubbed a finger along his nose and between his eyes.

  Peaches growled.

  She grinned and blinked up at Kit, stupidly happy he’d suggested coming back to the house.

  “Come on, let’s get to the house and clean him up a bit.” Kit walked toward the sidewalk and she stayed plastered at his side.

  Once Peaches was inside the house, he became an easier animal to handle. She cleaned him up enough to give him an injection, and promptly called Joe, who insisted Peaches come to the clinic and stay over-night so the weekend staff could watch him, just in case. Joe also made the point that being free of responsibility for Peaches would allow her to concentrate on pulling her house back together, which she much appreciated.

  Two hours later, three bags of possessions rendered garbage and there seemed to be no end to the mess. The afternoon was stretching on, and Kit was still quietly by her side. He’d dug into her shed and found wood glue to repair a few pieces, but there was so much random destruction it didn’t make any sense.

  “You can leave,” she said as she leaned against the wall staring at her living room. It was actually taking on the shape she remembered, minus an armchair, bookshelf and the sofa cushions. The coffee table was still there, with a new set of gouges from last night marring the surface. She’d already decided she’d leave them. No one else needed to know what they were there to remind her of.

  Kit paused in the act of untangling the knot of wires that had once been attached to her surround sound and DVD player.

  “If you…wait, no. I’m not leaving you here by yourself.” He turned back to the wires, dismissing her comment.

  “You don’t have to do this.” Honestly, she didn’t want to be here right now, either. Peaches was safe and the sun would set soon. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be here at night. Especially not by herself.

  “You’re right. I don’t. But I’m choosing to be here.”

  “Can you just...stop?” She sat down with her back to the couch.

  They’d had sex. Right here. She couldn’t call it fucking, but they hadn’t made love either. She stared at the coffee table.

  Kit scooted across the floor until he sat next to her. He took one of her hands in his. She could feel his gaze on her, wondering what was wrong. But she didn’t have any answers. She wanted Peaches to be home, safe and sound, instead of at the clinic. She wanted her house to not be violated. She didn’t want to be here.

  “How about we call it a night? We can grab something to eat and go back to Mick’s house. How’s that sound?”

  She blew out a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

  He helped her up and even took over locking up the rest of the house. Her back door was already fixed, thanks to the patrol officers making a call to a friend. They really did take care of their own, and at times like these, she realized just how much support there was in her life.

  “Do you want to take this stuff?” He gestured to a few canvases she’d salvaged from her studio, one of which was the nude drawing of Kit.

  “Would you mind if I kept it there for a few days?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Do you want to see it?” She stared at the small stack leaning against the wall.

  “See what?” He blinked at her.

  “The picture I was working on.”

  “Sure.”

  She pulled out the last picture, held her breath and turned it around. The charcoal was smudged a bit and some of the finer details
lost, but it was still Kit.

  He set her overnight bag down, his gaze trained on the image. His eyes slowly widened as he took it in.

  “That’s...amazing.”

  “You don’t mind?” She probably should have asked his permission before drawing him in the nude, but she’d been so swept up in the moment and decided to pour everything out on the canvas.

  “Mind? No.”

  “I’m not done with it yet.”

  “What will you do with it?”

  “I don’t know.” Probably keep it someplace special, just so she could look at it and remember him.

  “Do me a favor?” One side of his mouth hitched up. “Keep it.”

  Heat crawled up her neck. Oh, she’d keep it alright. There was no doubt about that.

  Kit gathered the canvases in her carrying case and her overnight bag. The whole endeavor took only a few minutes.

  “Come on.” Kit took her hand and put her in his Jeep.

  The stop for food and drive back to Mick’s were a blur. She stared out of the window, numb to the events of the day. She was exhausted and hyped up. Maybe she was having an out of body experience? The headspace she was in was completely different from subspace. She didn’t like it.

  One minute she was in the Jeep, and the next Kit was taking her bag from her and setting it in the entry at Mick’s.

  “Kit?” She stared up at him.

  “What is it, babe?” He stood in front of her, that beard of his hiding most of his expression. That was okay, he’d always telegraphed what he was thinking in his eyes. He had the most expressive eyes of any man she’d ever dated. Fooled around with. Whatever it was they’d done.

  “Would you take me down?” She needed some measure of control, and this odd state of post-shock was starting to put her teeth on edge. Sometimes, in order to regain control, you first had to lose it.

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” His brows drew down into a line. He was a good Dom. Even when they hadn’t known what they were doing, he’d always been cognizant of her body, what she could take and when it was time to stop.

  “Yes. Please? I need it.” She wrapped her arms around herself.