Tantrum (Kenshaw Ranch Book 3)

by Piper Frost

  “What are you doing here, Kay?” he says, his voice rough.

  “I said I'm the appointment. I made the online appointment. This is a tattoo parlor, isn't it?” I gesture around me. “I want a tattoo. You're my tattoo artist.”

  “I'm your ex-boyfriend,” he says, stepping toward me slowly. “I think it may be time for you to find a new tattoo artist.”

  My brows pull up my forehead and I clench my fists. “Fine. Tommy!” I yell, my glare not leaving Chase. “I need a fucking tattoo!”

  Tommy appears in my peripheral and Chase's eyes narrow at me.

  “I'm not getting in the middle of this, guys,” Tommy says before retreating back to his room.

  “He's not inking you,” Chase growls. “Let's go. Get this over with.”

  He storms to his room, not waiting for me to follow. The thought he might intentionally hurt me flits to my head but dissolves within seconds. He would never do that to me. I know Chase and he would never do that to me.

  I reach into my purse and pull out the image of the Kenshaw Ranch brand and I hold it out, trying to steady my shaking hand. This started off badly, it needs to end how I planned it in my head. After he wipes down his chair and pulls out the needle and machine, he turns toward me and nods to the paper in my hands.

  “Give it here.” He holds out his hand.

  I place the folded paper into his fingers and see him scowl at my shaking hand. Quickly pulling it away, I push my hands into my pockets and stare at him.

  “Chase, I miss—” I start but he cuts me off when he opens the paper.

  “Is this a mother fucking joke?” His voice booms, then a hard laugh comes out. “Kaydence, you can't be as stupid as they said you were.” His eyes fly to mine.

  “What?” I furrow my brows. “What's the problem? Who said I was stupid?”

  His eyebrows rise. “Um, your fucking brother. And cousin. How the fuck are you so naive?” He tosses the paper on the chair. “I'm not fuckin' doing that. The Kenshaws can suck my fuckin' cock.”

  “I'm a Kenshaw,” I mutter, the pain in my chest making me want to break down.

  “Exactly.” He crosses his arms in front of him. “I refuse to do that fucking tattoo.” He nods toward the door. “Tommy!” He looks back at me. “He'll do it. He has no morals.”

  “Chase, I want you to do my tattoo,” I insist.

  He clenches his teeth and takes a few deep breaths. “I'm not doing it, Kay,” he weakly says then shakes his head. “I...I gotta go.” He pushes past me and storms out of the room.

  “Chase.” I turn to follow him but bump into Tommy, he grabs me from going after Chase.

  “You gotta let him cool off, Kaydence,” he says, watching Chase leave through the front door. “He's gotta get over this. It's way too fucking soon. I don't even know what you're thinking walking back in here today, but he's not ready for this. To just be your friend.”

  I shove him away from me so I can move. “I came to talk to him, Tommy!” I bark. “I didn't only come for the tattoo. I wanted to talk. I screwed up. He screwed up. We both screwed up! I came to talk to him about it. I don't want to be his friend! Not like that! I want my boyfriend back!” I rub my forehead, trying to calm down before I lose it and hit Tommy for no reason.

  Tommy nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, this is awkward,” he finally says, then laughs. “So you still want the tattoo?”

  I chuckle and shake my head. I was supposed to get the tattoo and my boyfriend back. I might as well get one thing I came for. A tattoo that for once doesn't represent something I'm scared of.

  “Yes. I want the tattoo,” I mutter and turn back for my picture.

  Thirteen days, eight hours, twelve minutes, and probably about twenty seven seconds.

  That's how long my life has been in the depths of hell. Because that's how long it's been since I walked out on the only girl I've ever loved and more than likely ever will love with my entire heart. That's how long since I went numb.

  I didn't fucking do it because I was mad about her keeping things from me. I didn't even do it because of the pills, because honestly that shit I can get past. I fucking did it because she couldn't, for once in her life, stand up for us. For me. For her.

  She chose happiness. Unfortunately, her happiness isn't in the form of a thirty year old, awesome as hell tattoo artist. And now she's standing in my fucking tattoo shop, begging me for a fucking tattoo that proves she's part of the family that put the wedge between us!

  Fuck. No.

  I cross the street and watch the front door to the shop, downing three shots of whiskey while I wait to numb the pain, but it doesn't help. Seeing her today just solidified that I'll never be okay without her, but we can't be together and I'm not at the stage of being able to be her friend.

  When she finally fucking emerges, I want to run out and beg her to take me back but I don't. Because I can't put my heart through that again. And a girl doesn't change for a guy. Especially someone in her shoes. When she's gone, I storm across the street and push the front door open, thankful I pulled the fucking bells off. I couldn't fucking stand those things anyway.

  “We're closing early tonight,” I growl at Tommy who's sitting at the front counter with his eyebrows perched on the top of his mother fucking forehead. “Don't talk to me.”

  I storm back to my room, pissed that I can still fucking smell her in the air. I just need her out of my head. I need to get past it. But I don't think that's a possibility. Not since those green eyes hit mine for the first time months ago.

  “She was here to talk to you, dim-wit,” he says, obviously ignoring my comment earlier.

  “She was here for a fucking Kenshaw tattoo. They fucking brainwashed her, apparently. Gotta join the cool kid club,” I say sarcastically.

  “She wanted the tattoo, yeah. But she came here specifically to talk to you, Chase.”

  I look up at him and narrow my eyes. “Are you done?” Because the longer we stand here and talk about her, the more my heart shatters into tiny pieces of dust. There's not much more it can take before there's nothing left of it.

  “Yep.” He knocks on the doorframe. “Heading home,” he mutters, shaking his head, calling me a name under his breath as he walks away.

  I'm sure they're all getting tired of this mood of mine, but they won't need to deal with it much longer. As soon as my ducks are in their rows I'm flying out of this fucking place and never coming back. There's nothing for me here. I fucking knew that coming back.

  By midnight I'm lying in my uncomfortable as fuck bed, staring at the gross as fuck ceiling, in this tiny as fuck apartment, just wanting to fuck shit up. I glance at my phone and shake my head at the background. A picture of her that I snapped when she was sleeping in my bed a few weeks back. The sun was shining in just perfectly and she was twisted in my blankets...pure fucking beauty. I can't take it off my phone screen. Not yet. It's torture, but it's the best type.

  I hit call when I get to my sister's number and she answers almost immediately.

  “What's going on, Chase?” She sounds worried, and probably because my texts went from “I love the girl of my dreams and we're going to make you an aunt one day” to “My life is fucked, I'm moving to Florida,” overnight.

  “I found a place in Florida,” I mutter, stretching out on my bed and pushing the blankets away from me. It's cold as hell in here, but the cold at least reminds me I'm alive.

  “Oh,” she says then the line goes silent.

  “Fi?”

  “Yeah. I'm here.” She clears her throat. “Chase, I told you to move back here. You can live with us until you get back in the game. Vegas is perfect for your talent and I don't know why you left in the first place.”

  I never told my sister the full truth. I didn't want her to worry.

  “Fiona, I'm not moving back to Vegas. That guy? He's...he's not me anymore. I want a quiet place by the beach. I don't want to worry about the hookups and meaningless relationships that Vegas was
filled with.”

  “You're just moving farther from me,” she whispers and I sigh. They say twins are inseparable, but we've made good our entire lives proving everyone wrong.

  “I'll visit eventually,” I grumble, rubbing my face.

  “That'd be nice.” I can hear the smile in her voice and I feel better about life.

  We manage to talk for another hour. I hear my phone buzz a few times but roll my eyes, already knowing who it is.

  Kaydence. The reason my life is done for. She's called a few times over the last few days but I've ignored each one and the dozens of texts. I stopped reading them and I'm about to block the number. I can't take the constant reminder of what I can't have. She may want to be friends. I could absolutely see her as the type of person who still wants to be friends with her ex boyfriends, but I can't. I can't see her and be happy. Not when she's moved on with her life.

  Time passes by in a haze of work and sleep and the days over the next week all fog together like the previous few weeks. Life anymore is one massive fucking blur, and I really don't care. The milk in my fridge smells like death so I've resorted to eating every meal at the bar or letting one of the boys bring me food if I get angry enough. Honestly though, I haven't had much of an appetite. I'm just...done. Pathetic.

  It's Friday night and I'm sitting at the bar, watching the fucking drunks be stupid and annoying and I've never felt so annoyed with this place. I finally came back to work when Willie told me it was that or stop working. I'm not sure why I just didn't tell him to fuck off. Knowing I'm leaving soon, that would have been the smarter move.

  Sarah is here. I fucking hate Sarah. She's on the list of girls I never want to see again. Ever. If I didn't like boobs so much, and despise dicks, I'd consider being gay. Every girl I look at reminds me of Kaydence. Every girl I talk to reminds me how she was always so nice and most other girls are mean, nasty creatures. Like Sarah. Who just ordered another drink and asked for a quickie in the back.

  I think I flushed my sex drive down the toilet with Kaydence's precious pills.

  “Here ya go,” I say to her, shoving her seventh beer across the bar and ignoring her question. I try to smile back at the girl, but she's caused so much shit lately I just wish she were gone from this town.

  Whatever. I'll be gone soon enough.

  The bells jangle on the door and I squeeze my eyes closed. This whole thing started with me being addicted to hearing those bells jingle when Kaydence would come into the bar so much. It's like I'm fucking Pavlov's dog. But now I despise that mother fucking noise.

  I try to stop myself from glancing at the door, but I can't. I'm not expecting to see her, as much as I wish it were her walking through that door. I was pretty nasty to her the last couple times we've seen each other, but for fucking good reasons.

  My eyes hit the redhead that's just walked in through the door and all the blood rushes from my face.

  Fuck.

  “That bitch still lives here? I thought you dumped her and she packed her bags,” Sarah snickers, spilling beer down her chest when she tries to take a drink.

  “Shut up or get out,” I mutter, unable to take my eyes off Kaydence. I feel like she enjoys ripping my soul to pieces. She broke my heart, shattered it, and now she's walking in here looking like that, with her tits practically out for everyone to see and the tightest fucking black leather pants. Who the fuck is this girl? ”What can I get you?” I have to push out the manners even though I just want to try my hardest to ignore her tonight.

  “The chance to talk?”

  Her words sear through me. When Tommy told me that's what she wanted to do last week, I didn't really believe him. She was adamant about that fucking tattoo. She didn't want to talk. I figured it was just him trying to cheer me up because I've been short fused ever since that night. I didn't, for once, think he was telling me the truth. As much as I wanted to believe it.

  “I'm working,” I say, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

  I don't want to be angry anymore. I want my girl back. But she didn't care when I walked out that door. And I can't do that to my heart again.

  “Well, it's a bar, and a free country.” She pulls a stool out and sits. “I'll have a shot of whiskey and a Blue Moon. You work, I'll talk.”

  I huff, moving through the motions to get her the drinks she ordered. Because it's my fucking job. I slide it in front of her. “Seven even,” I say, holding my hand out.

  “I'll open a tab.” She hands me her credit card. “I'm going to be here awhile.”

  Great.

  I give her a curt nod and head to the register, then make it a point to check on every other single person in this tiny ass bar. I refuse to let her crush me even more tonight. I miss her more than I ever thought possible. And I hate myself for doing what I did, but it had to be done. I had to prove the point she won't fight for shit, and I think I proved it pretty well.

  “He doesn't want to talk to you,” Sarah says. “You're old news and he's moved on.”

  I hear her from across the bar and glance over at the two of them, waiting for Kaydence to retreat to her usual self.

  “Moved on to who? You?” Kaydence lets out a bitchy laugh I've never heard from the girl.

  “Maybe.” Sarah slides off her stool and approaches her and I wait for it. For Kaydence to run away.

  “Not likely.” Kaydence stands and steps up to her. “He wouldn't downgrade. And he's not really ever going to upgrade. Sit down before this goes somewhere it doesn't have to, Sarah.”

  Holy shit.

  Sarah lets out a stupid, drunk laugh and Kaydence shakes her head, sitting back on her stool. She...she found her backbone apparently. In that moment at least.

  “How's the Blue Moon treatin' ya?” I ask, curious now as to who this girl is and what she did with Kaydence.

  “Good, thanks.” She smiles that usual Kaydence smile at me, the one I used to not be able to resist. Hell, even after weeks of hating life, it's still really fucking hard to resist. “I think I need another shot though.” She pushes her empty shot glass forward. “Might be a long night,” mutters from her lips with a sigh as she looks at Sarah who's hissing with her friends.

  I can't help but chuckle a little as I grab her glass and pour another shot.

  “Bar's not really a good place to be if you can't take the drunks.” I glance at Sarah then back to Kaydence. “Or to talk.”

  “Well at this rate, it's my only option. You don't ever answer your phone. When I showed up at the tattoo parlor, you insulted my family name. There are only two places I know where to find you, Chase. Here or across the street. So here I'll sit until you're off work.”

  I nod at her. Is she finally fighting for something? What, I'm not sure yet. And I'm not sure if I even want to find out.

  “You came in for drinks. I can do drinks.” I slide another beer across the bar to her. “One of the last nights you'll find me here. Guess you got lucky.”

  Her brows furrow and she stares at the beer a minute. “I heard that.” She grabs the shot then covers her mouth to hide the burn. “You can also talk, Chase. So I'll pay for the shots, or whatever it takes for you to talk to me before you leave this town.”

  I cross my arms in front of me. She's killing me right now and she doesn't even know it. I don't want to fucking leave. I wanted to be with her. Here. In this shit little town. But all I got was a big load of bullshit. And now she probably just wants to make sure I'm not mad. So she doesn't have to feel guilty for actually making someone feel something. Fuck.

  “I'm behind this bar all night, Kaydence. I can't stop you from talking.”

  “I can,” Sarah's voice comes from my left and as I look over, she swipes Kaydence's beer into her lap.

  I reach for the glass, but it's already spilled and Kaydence jumps up with a gasp. Sarah and her friends laugh while Kaydence brushes off the leather.

  “You should go home, little girl. Go get cleaned up.” Sarah waves her away and turns back to her fri
ends.

  Kaydence looks at me and the look on her face makes me grin. That's a look I never thought I'd see on her, and it's hot as hell. She's only surprised me about three times with a different expression or tone, but I hope this one sticks when it's warranted.

  “Chase,” Kaydence says. “I'm sorry.” I roll my eyes and wave my hand, expecting her to walk out but she yanks Sarah's shoulder and when Sarah turns, Kaydence's fist cracks across her jaw.

  I hear the pop and jump back with a wince on my face, but Kaydence jumps on her then Sarah's friends jump in. And if I'm not mistaken, the sheriff came in an hour ago. I rush to the other side of the bar, trying to pull them apart but it's a pile of screams, fists, hair, and Kaydence isn't letting up. I'm finally able to shove Sarah away long enough to grip Kaydence and pull her back, another patron holding on to Sarah, but the damage is done and the sheriff is already standing next to us, shaking his head.

  “I can say in all my years, Chase, I've never seen girls go at it like that over you.” He laughs, stretching. “You four are all comin' to the station.”

  Kaydence pulls from my grip and my eyes go wide at the thought of her in jail. I can't even protest on her behalf, because she fuckin' threw the first hit!

  Kaydence spits a mouthful of blood at Sarah and the sheriff shoves her back. “Alright, get outta here. Let's go.” He grabs her arms and pulls them behind her back.

  “I really wanted to talk,” Kaydence says to me, her eyes locked on mine and I expect to see fear she's being arrested right now, but there is none.

  It's not happiness either, it looks like a genuine apology she just got herself arrested before she could talk.

  “Yeah, I'm starting to get that.”

  The sheriff pulls her outside and I watch the door close behind them. Moments later, as I'm still standing here staring at that door wondering what the fuck just happened, Tommy walks into the bar.

  “Holy fuck, dude! Kaydence is out there in hot fucking leather pants getting arrested!”

  “Yep.” I walk around the bar after picking up the chairs that the girls took down in their brawl.