Ink Slapped

by A. M. Jones

  “Few days ago.”

  “Let me see it.” I hold out my hand. He shakes his head. “Come on. I never ask about her. At least let me see the last one.”

  “Uh hell, no. Get your own. This one is signed: For Crockett, You keep me laughing and I don’t know what I’d do without you, your wit, or your fleshy pleasures. With love, Taylor. I’m also in the acknowledgements.” He grins like the big, smug kid he is.

  I jump and grab for the paperback but he keeps it out of reach with his long arms. But mine are longer. I grip the edge with my fingers, his drink sloshes, and the book pops me in the face. “Hey, party foul!” He glares and licks scotch dripping from the glass.

  Sitting in my chair, I peer at the cover. It’s not like her others. Different, in fact. A desolate landscape brims with fire. It’s amazing. I run my fingertip over her name. When I open it, it is signed to Crockett and stabbing needles run across my body. I toss it back to him.

  He eyes me with a smirk, waiting on me to ask him about her message, but I don’t gratify him. Even though I want to sucker punch him in the face.

  The smirk disappears as he studies me seriously again.

  A Christmas jingle plays, letting us know someone walks into the lodge, interrupting our stare-off. Crockett looks over my shoulder and stands, grabbing his things in one swoop. “See you.” He heads toward the cabins. However, his question seizes my thoughts and just like that, my doubts are back tenfold.

  Dainty arms enfold my shoulders as hands smooth down my chest. Stuffing those lingering feelings away, I grin and grab her arms, pulling her into my lap.

  Madison laughs and leans against me. “Done skiing?” I play with a piece of her brown hair. Shame heats my face when I catch myself wondering what it would look like blond.

  “Yes, and you’ve had too much to drink. You’re flushed.” Her hand cools my cheek as she gazes at me with happy eyes.

  Grinning, I say, “I want to show you something. I was going to wait until morning, but now is a fantastic time.”

  She watches me pull my ring out and bites her bottom lip as she takes it from me. Testing the waters, she raises my hand and slides my ring on in a slow movement, watching my face. The fire reflects in her eyes, showing sincerity there.

  Flashing her a smile, I make a fist with it on. It feels foreign and heavy, but I remember having to get used to it before. She clutches my hand and laces our fingers.

  “Thank you, baby.” Her white teeth flash as she smiles, and it brightens her face. “I don’t want to jinx us, but I think this is working.”

  “Same here.” I squeeze our interlocked hands and kiss her knuckles.

  A tall and willowy brunette opens the door with a flourish. Her eyes widen in shock before she smirks. “Well, well, well. Look who graces us with her presence. SPF one hundred and all.” Even on a school break she looks stunning. Her hair down to her five-hundred-dollar soft leather flats are in tip top order.

  “Surprise!” I grin and throw my arms around her. “It’s good to see you.”

  “It is.” She hugs me tighter. “You’ve lost weight. And your blond hair is back. You should update your social media pictures.”

  Brenna keeps her arm around my shoulders as she drags me into the ornate foyer. Marble floors match the marble columns that reach the ceiling. A huge crystal chandelier showcases the round marble table where a huge bouquet of poinsettias sits.

  “Where’s Cam? And dad?”

  She sighs and starts toward the kitchen. “Camden’s out keeping his cock busy and dad’s cooking.”

  My father has a Santa hat on top of his head. He’s tall like the twins, so he’s sort of bent over the stove. “Brenna, I’d rather not know what your brother’s cock is up to.” His mouth drops open when he sees me, coming around the huge island.

  Brenna scoffs, looking into a mixing bowl. “I’m talking about his chicken. Geez.”

  He laughs. “Taylor, my baby girl.”

  I fall into his arms, trying not to cry. Seeing him always gives me a sense of nostalgia and longing. Despite his many flaws, I’ve missed him. “Merry Christmas.”

  “It is now. How long are you here for?”

  “Until tomorrow.”

  He pulls back to look me over, fondness written all over his face. Shaking his head, he laughs. “You look more like her every time I see you. How is she?”

  I shrug, knowing he’s talking about my mother. “She didn’t want me leaving her during the holidays, but I needed to get away.”

  “Couldn’t have picked—hey!” He spots Brenna licking a spoon before she dips it back in some kind of chocolate concoction. “That’s for dessert.”

  She shrugs as he takes the spoon from her hands. “It’s yummy.”

  “Where’s Wifey?” I ask and Brenna tries to hide her grin from my nickname of all his wives.

  He doesn’t look at me but stirs the spoon. “In Malibu with her family. I think,” he adds.

  Brenna and I share a look. “Dad—” I start and Camden picks that time to walk into the kitchen from the garage. “Cam!”

  Brenna scoffs at Cam, sending him a glare. I don’t care what their issues are at the moment and hug him tight. All grown up. Both of them. I remember building sandcastles with them not too long ago.

  He smells like weed and his eyes are bloodshot, but otherwise put together impeccably. Cam smiles down at me. “Glad you showed.”

  I laugh. “I’m sure you were so worried that it kept you awake at night.”

  Brenna snorts. “The only thing Camden cares about is Camden. I’m sure the only reason he’s here right now is because he knows dad’s cooking.”

  Cam shrugs as if he can’t dispute her words. Dad shoots them both his “dad” look. “Dinner won’t be ready for a few hours. The ham’s still in the oven.”

  Camden smiles wide. “Sweet. Let’s get Taylor stoned.”

  Brenna rolls her eyes. “We only have her for twenty-four hours, so I was thinking hot tub since the weather is a chilly.”

  “It’s sixty-five degrees.” I laugh. Of course, she’d think it’s cold outside. She probably wears scarves and gloves in this weather. I peek at my father and he’s doing a great job of ignoring the two of them.

  I don’t care what we do as long as it’s with them and as long as they keep my mind off Eli. I sigh, knowing this was a good last-minute decision on my part even though my savings account is depleted.

  Camden shrugs. “So? We can get stoned in the hot tub.”

  We catch up while we eat ham and rolls. They want to know all about my books and events I’ve scheduled. They ask a lot of questions about Adrian and details of the ending of our relationship since they didn’t know the whole story.

  Dad’s working on a new reality show with the network he works for. Brenna and Cam will start their last semester of undergraduate school at Berkeley in January.

  After dinner, Brenna and I settle in the media room to wait on our dad and Cam to bring in dessert. I’m so relaxed I think I might stay for a few days. I’ve got nothing pressing to go back to. The Death to Demon series is finished and my new book, Turmoil, will be published in time for Crockett’s event.

  “What’s up with you and your cover model?”

  My limbs jerk. “He’s not a cover model. At least not anymore. I changed all my covers.” I wanted Savannah off of them, but I felt like it would help me move on from Eli.

  “Hmmm… so you’re not a fan of him. Tainted District, I mean?”

  “Oh. Yes, I love their music.”

  “Same here.”

  I glance at her. “You do?”

  She nods. “I’ve been following them since you put him on your cover. I was curious. They did a satellite radio interview yesterday. All of them are down to earth. Humble even. Eli Gregor has nothing to do with why you’re here?”

  I shake my head. “I think I needed a change of scenery.”

  She laughs. “I’d say so if you’re changing book covers. Do you even still li
ve in the same apartment?”

  I elbow her. “Yes. Will you just be happy I’m here?”

  Cam brings in three huge bowls brimming with fluffy kernels of chocolate drizzled caramel popcorn.

  Brenna watches him set the bowls on the huge ottoman in front of us. “Cam, I think we should spend the summer in Nashville with Taylor.”

  “What?” I squeak.

  “That’s a great idea,” dad says, coming into the room. He hands me a chilled can of sparkling water. “Apply for some internships while you’re there.”

  I guess that’d make sense. They’re both majoring in music and what better place to find an internship than Music City. “I have a one-bedroom apartment.”

  Brenna smiles, peering at Cam. “Camden loves sleeping on the floor.”

  He sends her a glare. They lock eyes for a long time. Twin ESP. He breaks eye contact. “One time. One time, I pass out in the closet and I’ll never live it down.”

  For the rest of the evening, Brenna becomes distant and pensive. Now and then she peeks at me but says nothing. In the end, I tell them they’re welcome to stay with me anytime they want.

  A week later, I’m boxing stuff to take to Madison’s house. I’m trying to hurry because we have a New Year’s Eve gig during the downtown Nashville celebration.

  The apartment will still be mine and will host band practices, but I won’t be living here anymore. I’m renting it to Mick for cheap. Placing a box by the door, I hear Madison gasp from the bedside table.

  “Wow,” she says. When I turn, I freeze and watch her place bangles on her wrist. “Did you make these?”

  I swallow hard. “Yes.”

  “They’re gorgeous.” She raises her arm and the bracelets slide down with a clink. “How?”

  “I soldered scrap stainless steel and hammered them for the texture.” I don’t know what I was thinking when I made them, but Madison was far from my mind. They match a ring Taylor wears all the time and Christmas was coming and...

  “Oh. I wasn’t supposed to find them.”

  “Huh?”

  She laughs. “My birthday.” I nod and move toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry. I’ll put them back and pretend I never saw them.”

  When I get there, I close the door and lean against the sink. Now I’ll never be able to give them to her—not like I’d have been able to anyway, but it made me feel better to make them.

  “I’m not fucking wearing this.” This is unbelievable. “It’s way too tight, man. How do you wear your clothes like this?”

  Crockett laughs along with Milo. “Let me see,” he sings, still laughing. I try to stretch the shirt off my abdomen. I might as well go shirtless and paint “I heart my gay friend” on my chest. When I walk out, they both gape at the shirt.

  “Hey, his shirt isn’t this tight.” I point to Milo who sports an identical shirt and then back to my chest.

  “It’s the same size as yours,” Milo says.

  Crockett still eyes it. “It’s not that bad. You make it sound like you’re wearing a little boy’s shirt. Shows off what it needs to.”

  “I can’t move.”

  “Don’t be a pussy.” Jack walks in from the fire escape, wafting in tobacco smoke. His shirt looks ten times too big for him. “You had to wear a shirt that tight during the video filming.”

  “Don’t remind me, scrawny bastard,” I mutter, slipping my Martin into its case. I flip the clasps closed and grab the handle. “You guys ready? Let’s go before I change my mind.”

  Arriving at the club, we set stage in front of vendor and exhibitor booths along the outer walls of the club. People wearing rainbow apparel and gaudy decorations fill the place. Giant tubes of lighted water, with each tube being a different color to make a rainbow, shape the backdrop of the bar. A guy looking at huge anal plugs catches my attention. He’s really checking them out, too. Ouch.

  I’m trying not to look too hard at anything or anyone in particular. My nerves are on edge. My heart drops when I hear Crockett’s laughter echo from across the giant room. I plug in and place my Strat on a stand beside my Martin.

  Several people stop by and congratulate us on the single and our album. Both sell decently. More than I expected. A few people even have a hard copy of the single, wanting our signatures on it. Too bad Madison isn’t here. She’d love the attention.

  When I can stand it no longer, I browse the booths and come across a young woman hanging Taylor’s banner. Her booth is a book signing table. All her promo items have the event logo on them. The Death to Demons books are different. A new cover adorns each installment—a different landscape with demons, fire, or dead demons on them. A brand-new novel that’s not a part of the demon series sits upright on a book stand. The cover makes the book seem deep and dark and reads Turmoil across the front in the same font as her name. Two releases within two months—she’s been busy. Half the table is empty.

  A gasp startles me and the girl fumbles with the banner as it falls. She jumps from the stool to pick it up.

  “Here let me help.” I grab the other end and help her hang it. The tape she uses isn’t designed for a heavy-duty hold, but it sticks well enough.

  “You’re J-Jaxon,” she says as her eyes roam over me, but not in an obnoxious way. As if she can’t believe I’m standing here. “I mean, from the cover. The old one. I loved that cover.”

  Smiling, I hold out my hand. “It’s Eli.”

  She shakes it with a dainty grip. “Nice to meet ya. I’m Amy. Taylor’s PA for the evening.” She beams and straightens the already straightened things on the table.

  “What happened to her old covers?”

  “I needed a change.” Taylor walks by me, standing out from everyone here—even the drag queens. Well, to me at least. Slamming a box onto a chair, her rainbow hair falls forward. It’s straighter than I’ve ever seen it. Rainbow knee-high socks are bright under ripped fishnets. The shorts are short, and a tail end of a tattoo peeks out from under the nets. That’s new, and I can’t help but wonder what design she chose. She’s lost a little weight, but what sets my heart ablaze is she has on the ripped Tainted District shirt. When she turns, it has “I heart Crockett” on the back of it in bold letters.

  If only I’d have met her at a different time or place. “Do you like them?” she asks over her shoulder.

  “Huh?”

  She meets my gaze for the first time. Under the glasses, her eyes pinch around the edges. “The new covers?”

  I’d normally tell her the truth. I love them and they showcase her broad talent, but they aren’t the same. I’m not so sure she’d welcome my opinions.

  “Yeah,” I manage.

  She shrugs and produces pens and a receipt pad from the front pocket of her bag. I try not to balk at her lackadaisical attitude because the tremble in her hands gives her away. If only she were nervous because of me, but I know she’s a wreck because of her social anxiety.

  I place my hand on her arm. “It’s okay, relax,” I whisper. I’d offer to get her beer, but she already has one. “You’re gonna do great. It’ll be fun.”

  She meets my gaze and smiles, shaking her head. “I forgot how you can see right through me.”

  We both eye each other, but she breaks the moment and unboxes Tainted District shirts, CDs, and other TD promo items. I guess this is what the empty side of the table is for. Her gaze falls on something behind me, the anxiety melts as a smile breaks across her face. “There you are.”

  “Hey, doll. Looking gorge as always,” Crockett says and kisses her cheek. “You ready for a wild night?”

  The beer she holds is dark and frothy. “Yep. Help me arrange this stuff.”

  “I could have helped you.” I bristle at the fact she didn’t ask me and realize I don’t have the right. I’m doomed to accept her clipped answers and half-assed smiles. She doesn’t answer as Crockett pleads with his gaze for me to drop it and go away.

  My nod is stiff, but I walk in the opposite direction. I aimlessly glance at t
he other exhibitors, but I don’t want to be here anymore. Even Tainted District fans don’t help my mood and there are a lot of them here tonight. Confusion doesn’t sit well on me. Although, I can hardly say I’m confused. I’m hollow. My heart knows where it belongs, and since I can’t let it go there, I die a little more inside.

  Tainted District plays a set for an hour while the partygoers arrive, check out tables, and get their first drinks. When we finish, we break down our instruments and carry them out to Milo’s van.

  Taylor sends Amy to help. She rushes over and talks a million miles a minute the whole time. She’s in college and helps Taylor whenever she needs an assistant, like an internship. Taylor’s a lot of fun to work for so far and this is her first signing she’s attended with her. She can’t wait for the events throughout the year with Taylor.

  Pride for her threatens to choke me at the news. Taylor is not only sitting on the ledge, but she’s jumping off.

  By the time we get everything packed and loaded, and even though Amy volunteers information Taylor wouldn’t have wanted me to hear, I know more about Amy than I care to. I bet Taylor stays on edge with her around, which is probably why Taylor sent her to help us.

  A queen is on stage, stealing the show, when we make it back inside. She dances down the stage that has fog rolling around it. Someone also wears high-pitched perfume. A guy sneezes as he walks by in a rainbow Mad Hatter costume, leading his White Rabbit partner on a leash.

  I don’t mean to, but I glance at Taylor’s table. People surround it. I spot my dad towering over the crowd, no doubt my mom is right beside him. I sigh. Taylor laughs as she signs a book but it’s forced. She holds herself stiff. Crockett snorts, crossing his arms. I have to look to understand what he’s snorting about.

  He stalks over but I remain in place watching Taylor talk with the woman next to her. The woman whispers in her ear and brushes her hair back. Before Crockett can save her, another stocky man wraps his arms around Taylor’s shoulders. I look away, unable to watch.