The Darkest Link (Second Circle Tattoos)

by Scarlett Cole

  Grace stood on the first step of the staircase waving a gun around.

  He raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “Grace, it’s Reid,” he said, and she looked over toward him quickly, her eyes wild, before returning to focus on Franklin who was lying on the floor, a red stain on the front of his shirt, and a thick, sticky blood of pool spreading from under his shoulder.

  He supposed he should call an ambulance, but fuck that. There wouldn’t be any assistance for Franklin until he knew that Lia and her mom were safe.

  “Fuck, are you okay, babe? Does he have a weapon?” he shouted at Lia, who looked as shell-shocked as he felt.

  “No,” she replied quickly. “At least I don’t think so.”

  Reid patted Franklin down and confirmed her assessment.

  “Help me,” Franklin cried out.

  Ignoring him, Reid stood and ran to Lia. God, she felt so good in his arms. He kissed her face over and over. “Let me take a look at that,” he said, removing her hand. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Is your mom?”

  “What do I do?” Grace asked.

  “Why don’t you just put that gun down on the step next to you, sweetheart, and I’ll call the police,” he said patiently.

  Lia reached to take the gun from her mom, but Reid stopped her. “Don’t, babe. It will just mess with the evidence. You know, fingerprints and stuff.”

  Her mom put the gun down on the stairs, and Lia stepped out of his arms to hug her. “Mom,” she said. “You saved my life.”

  Grace shivered in Lia’s arms. “He nearly killed us both.”

  “I need some help, something to stop the bleeding,” her father screamed.

  As much as it pained him, the guy needed an ambulance, so Reid pulled out his phone. He dialed 911 and waited for the responder. “Police and ambulance, please,” he said, and gave them the additional information they needed.

  “Help me, please,” Franklin begged Reid as he hung up the phone.

  “The only help I’m going to give you is not picking up that fucking gun and firing a shot into your other shoulder.”

  Reid pulled off his shirt, bundled it up, and pressed it gently to the cut on the side of Lia’s face, then pulled her to him. She melted against his chest and the feel of her body pressed up against his gave him something solid to focus on. When she gripped his T-shirt, he hugged her tighter.

  The police arrived quickly and Lia directed them to Franklin’s phone that contained some app that had captured video and audio footage of what had happened.

  Despite the extensive evidence of what had happened, it was still after ten in the evening by the time they finished answering the police’s questions and made it back to the condo. It was an hour after that by the time Lia had her mother settled in her spare bedroom.

  Lia walked back out into the living room and Reid poured them both large shots of whiskey into tumblers.

  “Cheers,” he said dryly, handing her a glass and pulling her into his embrace with his free hand. He brushed his lips against hers, and savored the connection.

  “Cheers,” she replied sadly. They stood and sipped, everything quiet around them.

  “You want to tell me what happened, babe?” he asked, brushing a curl behind her ear. He needed to know, needed to process what she’d been through because he was fucking clueless how to help her.

  Lia entwined her fingers with his and he led them to her favorite spot. “You were right,” she said on a sigh. “I tried to hurry Mom along after your call, but Dad . . . he knew we were there.”

  Reid tried to listen objectively as Lia told him how she’d dropped the suitcase down the stairs, and how her father had arrived. With every word, regret for not kicking all kinds of shit out of the bastard as he lay on the floor coursed through him.

  “When I heard that gunshot, I thought for a moment that I’d lost you. It was horrific, those few moments running to the front door, convincing myself you were okay,” Reid murmured against her ear.

  “I know what you mean,” she sobbed. “I could barely form a coherent thought.” He pulled her close as she cried, rubbing his hand slowly up and down her back as she purged all the emotions she was holding onto.

  As the sobbing subsided, the thoughts that had been bouncing around in his mind all day coalesced into one constructive thought. Reid pulled back a little. “I had time to think while I was racing to your parents’ house. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together. I know my timing is kind of shitty, babe. But I’ll move here and I’ll rebuild in Fort Pierce. Jarod can run it day-to-day. It’s profitable, and they’re good guys. And then I’ll find something here. A regular job for now until I build up capital. I don’t have to make bikes right away. There must be a garage that needs a mechanic. But most importantly, I’ll be here. To help you and your mom.”

  Lia looked up at him, those gray eyes of hers red-rimmed and wide. “You’d do that for me?”

  “In a heartbeat. Can you give me a reason why we should be apart for another day? Or a week? A month even?”

  Lia shook her head. “I want nothing more than a chance at a future with you.”

  “So, yeah, babe. I’ll do that for you. Because I want that, too.”

  “Wait here,” Lia said suddenly, springing off his lap.

  She hurried off down the hallway and returned to the living room with a pile of papers. “I have a job for you,” she said, handing them to him.

  “What is this?” he said, holding the stack of documents.

  “It’s your moving-in present.”

  “My what?” Reid asked, looking at what looked like a real estate agent’s brochure for a workshop.

  “The paperwork hasn’t been completed yet, but I’ve made an offer.”

  She’d done what? “But it looks . . .” Reid’s brow furrowed, unable to process what she was saying. Because for a second, it sounded a lot like she’d bought him a garage.

  “It doesn’t look like much right now. But there’s a budget for renovations. I’m looking for a guy who might be willing to oversee the transformation, then build a custom bike shop in it.” Lia switched the papers on top of the pile with the ones underneath. “And then sell them here,” she said, pointing to a fancy-looking glass-fronted store.

  Reid grinned. She had bought him a business. He dropped the papers to the floor and pulled her close. “You know most people just buy a vase as a housewarming gift, babe. Or a plant, or something.”

  “But we aren’t most people, Reid.”

  No, they weren’t. And he wasn’t going to accept it as a gift. His pride wouldn’t let him. But a loan he could live with. “I’m paying you back. Every penny. With interest.”

  “If you want to,” she said, rubbing up against him seductively. “What’s mine is yours, for richer and for poorer and all that.”

  “Holy fucking shit. For real?” Those eyes of hers radiated excitement.

  “Yeah, unless you want to go look at some other places.”

  He didn’t. He trusted her judgment. And he wanted there to be more than pure financials to the arrangement. “Will you design bikes for me, babe?”

  “Will you teach me how?” she asked with a grin.

  “Of course. Business partner, huh?”

  Lia grinned. “Amongst other things. I’m always going to be a tattoo artist.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to be anything else.” He started to pop the buttons on the little mint-green cardigan she was wearing. “I love you, babe. Thank you,” he said, placing little kisses along her neck.

  “I love you, too, babe.”

  EPILOGUE

  Reid watched as Lia smoothed the front of the chocolate-brown silk dress for the thousandth time and then quickly checked her reflection in a large brass cross that stood on a table in the entryway. He glanced over at the other bridesmaids . . . Pixie with her bright purple hair, Drea with her golden highlights, and his very own redhead. Who looked hot as fuck in that strapless column dress.

  Shit. He wa
s in a church, so he raised his eyes upward and apologized.

  Only Harper could find a silk that would match the rainbow-colored hair of her bridesmaids yet still coordinate with the Thanksgiving theme.

  All while attending Nathan’s trial. He’d been sentenced to twelve years, which, when added to the four he still needed to serve in Illinois, meant they had seen the back of him for a really long time.

  Lia’s father had taken a plea deal for the attempt on their lives. They’d eventually found the driver of the car that hit Lia, a former client of Franklin’s. He was also the one who torched Reid’s garage, and he’d turned on Franklin to reduce his own charge.

  But those kinds of worries weren’t for today. Not when his head was filled with memories from the previous evening when he’d finally taken Lia on the hood of her car, thanks to the newly installed metal shutters at the garage.

  “Thank you,” the voice he’d come to know said from over his shoulder. His new brother-in-law to be.

  “For what?” Reid grinned as his turned to face Trent.

  “For being cool with this. For being here. For looking out for her before everything happened. Even for leaving . . . because if you hadn’t, my wife wouldn’t have made it to Miami.”

  Reid coughed gruffly, determined not to tear up like a fucking pussy before the ceremony had even happened. “She’s not your wife yet. I still have time to fix that,” he said.

  “Yeah, well. I have Cujo primed to take you down if you speak up at that ‘forever hold your peace’ part.”

  “Take care of her, man. I mean it.”

  Trent raised his eyes toward the large, closed doors of the church where his bride would enter at any minute. “Every single day. I promise.”

  Reid walked over behind Lia who was touching up her bright red lipstick in the cross’s shiny surface, and slid his hands around her waist, pulling her up against him. “Isn’t that sacrilegious or something, using a cross for vanity purposes?” he whispered in her ear before biting her earlobe.

  She swatted him away with a laugh, and dropped the lipstick into his suit pocket. “God’s wrath will be nothing if I end up in the video with red lipstick on my teeth.”

  Annie, the energetic wedding planner, ushered Trent and his mom to the front of the queue. Trent looked happier than any soon-to-be-married man he’d ever seen. He was wearing a black suit, allegedly by Tom Ford, and a black shirt. The guy had even refused to have a boutonniere, a decision that had reduced Reid’s usually calm and capable sister to tears. But he’d also witnessed the way Trent had won his sister over by delivering the shell of an old Plymouth to Reid’s new bike shop for him to fix up for her the very next day. Occasionally, she’d come over after school and tinker on it with him. The bike shop was still being refitted, but there was electricity and heat, and new equipment was being delivered every day. Harper was a terrible mechanic, but it had given them time to talk. And to heal. He’d told her about his visit with Nathan, and she’d teased him about his relationship with Lia.

  Annie began to organize the rest of the wedding party. Trent’s dad was instructed to move, and he took Harper’s mom’s arm to walk her down the aisle. Just as the interior doors closed before Harper entered the main church doors, Cujo yelled, “There’s still time. Run for your life,” at full volume, and the whole church erupted into laughter. Drea smacked him in the stomach.

  “Sorry, shortcake. Couldn’t resist.”

  “Please, for the love of God, try.” Drea giggled.

  The giant church doors opened and his sister walked in on their father’s arm. Reid had never seen anything quite as beautiful. In a strapless gown and what he now knew was a fingertip veil, she looked radiant. And happy. The girls hurried over and started fussing with Harper’s dress. The way they sighed, giggled, and reached for tissues, you’d think they hadn’t seen each other in a month, when in fact they’d only been apart for the car ride over.

  His father nodded in his direction and Reid returned the gesture. He’d made another trip to Chicago, mostly to see his mom and to try to get some of the awkwardness out of the way with his father ahead of today. They were still a long way from friendly, but they’d managed to pull off civility quite effectively at the rehearsal dinner the previous evening.

  “So who’s next?” Dred asked gruffly, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt underneath his jacket. The metal front man was obviously uncomfortable in his all-black ensemble.

  “Not me,” Cujo said. “I mean, I have the ring,” he mumbled. “But I’m not doing it until the day Drea graduates college.”

  “That’s a long time to make her wait,” Dred said. “Given she’s the only girl who’ll ever put up with you, you’d better lock her down fast.”

  “As much as I want to, I don’t want her to feel pressured to organize a wedding while she’s studying, and I know she will as soon as I propose. She still has a habit of taking on way too much shit. So it’ll be proposal at graduation, then a Vegas wedding the next day, and a giant party whenever the fuck she wants after.”

  “Don’t look at me,” said Reid. He knew the game. He was just going to pretend he wasn’t interested, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell them about the savings account he’d set up. Yeah, his girlfriend had more money than they needed, but he drew the line at her buying her own ring. So he was going to save, and she’d need to wait. But he intended to tell her every fucking day how much he loved her until the day he could afford to propose properly.

  “Shit. Guess it’s me then.” Dred shrugged.

  “Really?” Cujo asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “Yeah, well, I was hoping to speak to you and Trent tonight at some point, seeing that you guys are the closest thing she’s got to a dad,” Dred mumbled.

  “Fuck.” Cujo coughed gruffly. “It better be impressive. The ring.”

  “Three-carat rare deep-pink diamond that looks purple. Kinda oblong with a whole bunch of the normal-colored ones around it.”

  “That’s quite the description, son,” Cujo said, before bursting out laughing and pulling Dred into a huge hug.

  “Okay, places please,” Annie said.

  The music started to play and they all turned to look at Harper, who shrugged with a grin, and fist-bumped her girls. An organ version of “Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica played, and by the grin on the girls’ faces, there was a story behind that.

  Cujo slapped him on the shoulder. “Believe me, as her brother, you really don’t want to know why this is funny as shit.”

  As best man, Cujo walked down the aisle with Drea first. He winked at Drea as he looped her hand over his elbow, then leaned down to whisper something in her ear that made the feisty firecracker Reid had been getting to know melt into a gooey puddle.

  Pixie and Dred went next. Reid still couldn’t get over the odd couple, as he thought of them. They were so mismatched. But then at the rehearsal dinner, Reid had been sure he’d caught the big guy humming a song from his mom’s favorite musical, Les Mis. Dred took her hand and looped it over his elbow and walked down the aisle with so much fucking pride, even Reid could feel it.

  “Guess it’s us,” Lia said to him, taking his arm.

  “One day,” he said, staring into the gray eyes he’d fallen in love with. “It might not be for a while, but one day, babe, you will be the last one out of this vestibule, or wherever we decide to do it.”

  Lia pressed up against him and kissed him in a way probably best reserved for a private room.

  Annie coughed.

  “Yeah, Reid. Sorry to interrupt, but I’m trying to get down there so I can marry the man of my dreams. Please let me get there before Cujo convinces him to run,” Harper said with a laugh.

  He led Lia to the door, put his hand into his jacket pocket, and pulled out her grandmother’s bracelet.

  “What’s that?”

  He slipped it around her wrist and fastened it, giving it a little tug to show her the link no longer pulled open. “That sweet link of your
s might have saved your life and brought us together, but I had it fixed. It’s your something old.”

  “But we aren’t getting married, only the bride does that.”

  “Yet,” he said. “But I want you to still have this when the time comes. I’ll find you the new, borrowed, and blue, too.”

  Lia’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too,” he said, wrapping her hand over his elbow, and led them into the church.

  Acknowledgments

  Lizzie and Beth—Thank you for your faith in me from the beginning and for helping me bring this story full circle.

  Scarlett’s Stars—I’ve loved getting to know you all this year. You make me laugh when it gets bumpy. Huge thanks especially to Tanya Baikie for being so generous with your time and talents.

  Brad Sears at www.allexperts.com, and Simon Freebrey—Thank you for helping me with details about Lia’s Plymouth Fury. If I still wrote it wrong, that’s on me, not you.

  Dr. Vanessa Clay—Thank you for being an awesome neighbor and for helping me with all things medical.

  Sidney Halston—For being awesomeness personified and for taking the time to read this story. It is stronger for your feedback.

  Amanda, Michelle, and Gina—Thank you for helping me keep the home fires burning when I was too far away, or too buried in words, to do it myself. Oh, and for giving me alcohol and laughs when I needed them most. I love you, ladies!

  Tim—I’m not going to thank you for looking after the kids when I was on a deadline, because you’ve been leaning it since way before Sheryl Sandberg made it cool. But I am going to thank you for being a good man all these years, for your undying faith in me, and your limitless supply of encouragement.

  Finley & Lola—Thank you for writing your own stories while I was writing mine. Yours were way more entertaining than mine ☺ I love you.

  Read on for a sneak peek of Scarlett Cole’s next book

  JORDAN RECLAIMED