"I already do."
"Good."
I looked down at my hands and clenched my fingers together, my nails biting into my skin. I was curious about that distant look in his eyes, but too stubborn to ask about it. I didn't want to know.
My mind didn't stop the wondering, however, and I suddenly pictured Jack and Reggie holding hands, kissing, making love. Had they been together? Was the adoration I saw on his face earlier actually love?
"She had a crush on Jake for a while, but you know him. He can't see past the end of his nose sometimes."
I nodded with a weak smile, trying to keep from bringing back the aching tension I had felt with him in the truck on the way to the shop.
"She hated me for a long time."
"Excuse me?" I asked quickly, not sure if I heard him correctly. Reggie didn't look like the kind of person that could hate anyone.
He smiled and turned to the counter behind him to start prepping for the tattoo. "Yeah, she wouldn't speak to me after she found out about me leaving you... I mean you all. Said I was a coward."
"But -"
"She only just started to warm up to me more, but now that you're here, maybe she won't wish I was at the bottom of a river somewhere."
I opened my mouth to ask more, but he didn't let me. "I'll be ready in just a minute. Make yourself comfortable.
I let it go. I didn't want to, but I knew I should for the sake of my own sanity. I forced myself to turn my eyes away from the back of his head and let whatever questions I had drift away.
My eyes roamed over the walls. Endless pages of paper filled with beautiful pictures. Some words, others faces, flowers, animals. There was a group of pages that looked dedicated only to oak trees and another group dedicated to skulls and dragons. I was in awe as I took in the details on each piece.
"Who did these? They are so amazing."
Jack cleared his throat and when I caught a glimpse of his face before he turned away, I saw pink in his cheeks.
"They are mine."
"All of them?"
He nodded as he kept busy digging through the cabinets and removing the supplies he would need for my tattoo. I hadn't been nervous about it until now, staring at all the beautiful images and knowing that Jack was going to put something just as beautiful on me.
With his hands.
I ignored the ache that was forming deep in my belly. Jack would be touching my skin and just the thought sent my hormones into a frenzy.
My eyes caught on a familiar image tucked away near the back wall. It was the same design Jake had on one of his arms. "I had no idea you did that one."
He turned to see where I was pointing and shrugged. "Yeah, he couldn't really do it himself."
"But you designed it?"
"Mmhmm."
I ran a finger down the design of some kind of tribal tattoo. One with hidden pictures that I could only guess at the meaning. The details were flawless.
"Jack, how come you don't do this full time?"
He smiled and gestured for me to have a seat on the table between us. "Because I love it too much. If I do it full time, I'll end up wishing I was anywhere but here."
I could understand that, but then again, I had never been able to do the things I truly loved every single day.
Jack opened a folder that was laying on the counter and removed a big piece of paper before stepping towards me. I knew just by the first glimpse that it was for me.
"This is what I see, Ari."
It was beautiful. The most beautiful drawing I had ever laid eyes on, and it was completely me. Something that I would have chosen if I was in the correct frame of mind.
A tree branch, slightly gnarled, stretched its way up the paper. All different sizes of blossoms budding and blooming from it, a few tinted the lightest shade of lavender. The petals looked so delicate, but their beauty overpowered the gnarled and dead look of the branch, making it look like it was coming back to life. Rising from the dead. Finding its new life.
Where the branch ended at the top, pieces of it scattered up and over, turning into black birds in flight. The birds looked like they were formed from the blossoms and wood of the branch itself.
It was big and I knew without a doubt that it would cover my jagged scar perfectly.
"The last bird will end on your spine just below your neck," Jack said thickly. "It isn't going to completely cover the scar, Ari, but it will make it beautiful."
I could picture it on my skin, taking away the memory of that night and replacing it with right now. Right now when Jack was looking at me in that way that could make my knees buckle. It was just his look, I knew that. It had nothing to do with me, but fuck if I didn't wish it had.
"Jack. It's beautiful," I whispered, my voice cracking with the need to cry. Before the burning tears could spill over, I tore my eyes away from his intense gaze and studied the details of the tattoo. He had put himself into this, too. No doubt about it.
"Then it's fitting," he said, his voice thick and deep. "Let's get started."
He set something down on the counter and told me to remove my shirt and put whatever it was on so it would open in the back. After he left the room and I inspected the thin scrap, I realized it was basically one of those paper shirts the doctors made you wear for breast exams that covered absolutely nothing. I pulled it on and felt like a contortionist trying to keep all my bits covered.
I was sitting in the tattoo chair when he came back in a minute later. Without a word, he adjusted the chair so it was practically a bed. He rolled his stool over and carefully pulled open the ridiculous scrap of paper until my side was in view and just the slight swell of the side of my breast.
I held my breath as he transferred the stencil onto my skin. His fingers were so gentle and so sure and it was making me dizzy. When those fingers brushed the side of my breast to apply the stencil, my entire body trembled.
No way he didn't notice that, but he didn't say anything.
Once the image was transferred to my skin, he told me to look in the mirror and make sure it was where I wanted it.
He turned his head when I opened the paper shirt a little more to look, keeping the rough material over my breast.
It was perfect. You could still see the scar. You would always see the scar if you knew it was there, but the branches turned the jagged line into something completely different. I turned back to Jack and smiled while he kept his gaze on the opposite wall.
"Thank you," I whispered.
I watched his profile as his lips curled into a grin. "Don't thank me yet. It will hurt."
"I'm ready for it," I replied and sat back down.
Jack snapped on a pair of gloves and positioned me where he needed me. The buzz of the tattoo gun startled me and the first touch of the needle made me wince, but soon, the pain faded into numbness as he worked. I could understand why people got addicted to tattoos. The pain was almost euphoric every time the needle found an untouched patch of skin and knowing the end result meant something to me only made it that much better.
It wasn't long before Jack and I fell into easy conversation like we always used to. He asked about what my plans were at McCall's, how I was liking the self defense class, and if I planned to go to school.
I told him I had already graduated and that I hoped to one day start using my degree in marketing.
"I never pictured you doing anything like that. I always thought you would end up being a teacher or a rock star, not a businesswoman," Jack chuckled and moved his hands over my skin to start another branch.
"I love everything about the marketing world. It's art. Something that draws a person in and makes them want what they are looking at. It fascinates me to know that a simple picture can do that."
"Why don't you do some marketing for the shop? Jake needs the help and you could brush up on your skills." He suggested it so casually that I couldn't imagine telling him no. "I need some advertising out there for Milestone, too. Neither one of us have the time or patien
ce to do it. I'm a silent partner here, doing the books when I can, and Jake takes care of a lot of the grunt work. It would be nice to take some of the load off of him."
"Do you think it would interfere with... everything?" I asked, knowing he would be honest about it.
"I think it would take your mind off of it and help you and Jake process it. I also think it would give you both a chance to spend some time together," he said, the sound of the tattoo gun pausing only long enough to adjust his position.
"That sounds like a good plan," I said after a moment of thought. The more I thought about it, the more excited I got, but I didn't want to get my hopes up. I might not be good at the whole thing once we got started. "I will see what I come up with."
It was another hour of light conversation before Jack stopped the tattoo and asked how I was doing.
"I'm great. Can we finish it tonight?"
He shrugged and moved a few pieces of equipment aside. "If you can take it, we can finish it. The ribs are usually the most painful, but you're taking it like a champ."
I chuckled dryly, "That's because they are probably numb from all the times they have been bruised or cracked."
Jack froze as he stared down at the ink and tattoo gun in his hand. His jaw ticked and I could practically hear his teeth grinding.
I shook my head, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have said that."
Jack didn't reply, but when he looked up at me, his expression was pained. Not the anger I had been expecting. He stood and looked through a few cupboards before finding more paper towels. The silence between us was almost deafening and my chest felt like it was cracking as I watched him avoid my eyes.
I searched for a way to change the subject or get his mind off of my careless words. There was nothing funny about my situation, nothing remotely light hearted, but I had gotten so used to making it such a small deal that I had been ignorant to his feelings and occasionally to Jake's feelings.
"Do you think Jake would approve?" I pointed to my side and looked at the red skin covered with ink.
Jack sat back down in front of me and smirked. "I don't think he is in the position to tell you not to get a tattoo."
"True."
There was no more light conversation, no more reminiscing about the past and no more smiles. Jack only stopped to ask me if I needed a break and I always shook my head and asked him to keep going. He was almost finished and had left the part of the tattoo that just touched the side of my breast for last.
He cleared his throat and shifted back when he told me to roll a little so he could reach it. I held my breath when the gun first touched the swell of my breast. His hands shook as he tried to position himself so he wouldn't have to touch me anywhere private and he finally asked me to place my hand over my breast to hold the skin taut.
If I had thought the tension between us was stifling before, it was nothing compared to right then. Jack's breaths were as choppy as mine and when he stopped the gun and rolled back in his chair, I could hear him taking deep breaths, not moving. I didn't dare roll over to see what he was doing, could barely take a breath without goose bumps covering my skin. I was trying to compose myself when he returned a minute later and the gun started buzzing once more.
My eyes were on the door to the room when it opened slowly and Jake appeared in the doorway. He narrowed his eyes at the place Jack was working on and met my gaze for just a second before looking at Jack. He wasn't so much scowling as watching with caution.
I could only imagine how uncomfortable Jack was in that moment, but he never flinched and after a few moments longer, the gun stopped and he let out a breath.
"Done. We can fix some of the shading once it heals up, but I think that is enough for tonight," Jack grumbled and stood quickly to clean everything up.
I sat up and adjusted the scrap of paper still covering my breasts.
Jake was looking at the fresh ink on my side and his lips parted when he finally got a good look at it. The awe in his eyes was unmistakable as he softly said, "It's beautiful, Ari."
I knew that. I knew it was perfect for me.
"It was Jack's idea."
Jake looked over at Jack and nodded gratefully. "It's perfect. You were right and I'm sorry I doubted you. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else to do something like this. Not even me."
Then he left the room, leaving me stunned and confused. Jake had always been good at hiding his emotions, but lately, we all could tell when he was about to lose it.
I knew he had gone to his office and shut the door and I wished I could go there to comfort him, but first I needed to know what he had meant when he said he was sorry he doubted Jack.
"What was that about?"
"What?"
"Don't be obtuse, Jack. What did Jake mean?"
He shrugged and pretended like the question wasn't a giant elephant in the room as he turned his back to me and finished cleaning up.
I wanted to shock him into giving me some answers. I wanted to ask him something he would never expect and watch his eyes fill with the panic that would give him away. I just wanted to be told the truth for once. The whole truth.
"What happened in that gang, Jack? What made you guys leave it?"
He kept his back to me, but his entire body went rigid and his hands froze over the tray of ink he was organizing. I stayed in the chair and told myself I wouldn't move or put my shirt on until I got some answers. Any sudden movements would completely sever the line of communication I was trying to open.
"It was ugly. Things had changed too much and even if Jake and I wanted to be a part of those guys, we refused to be a part of what was happening."
And in order to do that, I had to leave.
The words weren't spoken, but I heard them nonetheless. I realized that he sacrificed for Jake, not for himself. He left everything he knew because it was going to help Jake get out of the shit they were in.
"After you left, I thought that Jake should hate you and that he should never talk to you again. But he did and now you both are here, as if nothing happened. You left but stayed friends and I know why now. Jake told me."
Jack flinched and spun around, his eyes narrowing on me as he sat in his stool. "He did?"
"Yeah. He said he forced you to leave. That it was easier for you to leave than it would be for my family."
He stayed quiet and didn't give anything away, except for the slight sag in his shoulders. Relief?
"He said it was safer," I added skeptically.
"It was."
"But safer for who Jack?"
I wanted him to confess. To tell me he knew, to admit to being a coward and running away even though I knew he was anything but a coward. He did it for my brother and I couldn't begin to understand how it worked, but I knew why.
"Jake took a lot of shit for me," Jack stated, looking me in the eyes.
"Funny, he said the same thing about you."
He watched me warily as minutes passed, neither one of us giving in to the urge to argue with each other. Then he surprised me. "We both took a lot of shit for each other. I wouldn't change a damn thing and neither would Jake."
"I would."
"That's because you have no idea…" he trailed off and turned away, shaking his head once more as if to dismiss the conversation entirely.
"No idea about what, Jack?"
He didn't answer me and instead, he reached forward and covered up my tattoo with ointment. His fingers glided smoothly over my skin and I closed my eyes and started to count down from a thousand to take my mind off of his touch. His fingers glanced over the swell of my breast and covered the ink there. Both of us held our breath, not daring to say a word or even look at each other.
When he finally finished, Jack started rattling off instructions, his voice thick and rough, before saying, "Let's get you home to get some rest."
"Jack."
Our eyes locked and it took every ounce of strength I had to keep that flimsy scrap of paper over my breasts. The
re were so many questions, so many secrets that both of us held onto so tightly, but it didn't stop my need for him. My trust in him.
I wanted so much more than the clinical touch for a tattoo.
I wanted him to put his hands on me and show me what it felt like to be a woman in a man's arms. A man that only wanted to give pleasure, not pain.
Jack's eyes kept moving down to my lips, back to my eyes, then down to my lips again, like he couldn't stop himself.
Please.
Just when I thought everything around us would go up in flames, he stepped away and quickly left the room, mumbling something about my shirt and meeting me out front in five minutes.
So that's what it felt like to have a bucket of ice water poured over your head.
It was just as well. Getting involved with Jack would put us all at risk. Especially since Roger was still out there. We may all have secrets, but there was one that neither my brother nor Jack knew I was privy to. Jack knew what happened all those years ago. Why he left, why my brother ended up hiding out in my parent's house and taking secret phone calls.
I had always assumed until Roger confirmed it for me. I know exactly what happened and why I was protecting my brother.
Jake had killed a man. A man that didn't deserve to live.
Roger knew this and if I couldn't end the shit with him, my brother would go to prison.
I wasn't going to let that happen.
Chapter Eight
"I want the truth from you
Give me the truth even if it hurts me"
Good Charlotte 'The Truth'
Reality
Six years ago...
"Oh shit," I whispered after my foot kicked the most unstable table in our house, making it shake violently. I watched all of my mother's tiny glass - very breakable - figurines on top shake right along with it and held my breath.
I was always really terrible at eavesdropping. One of the reasons why I never did it. But today was different. I was going to find out what the hell was going on whether I was caught spying or not.
No one opened the door to see what the noise was about. In fact, the talking hadn't even stopped. I wasn't supposed to be home yet so I stepped right up to the door of my dad's office and pressed my ear against the solid wood. The smooth surface was cool against my skin, soothing the excited rush of blood in my cheeks.
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