Vehn (Exotic Ink Book 1)

by LS Anders

  “Evana, please believe what I’m telling you is true. Regina is a straight-up liar, and I’ve already called my lawyer, who’s working right now to slap a lid on this bullshit.”

  “I do, Vehn. I do believe you, but Callie’s been through a lot the last couple of years, and I can’t even begin to imagine what's going through her head right now, especially with this being so public,” Evana said, gripping his arms. “Go home and try not to worry. I'll text you as soon as I can, but please just be patient.”

  “Aspiring model Regina Hemsley was admitted to Lennox Hill Hospital late last night after having attempted to take her own life. Apparently, the break-up between her and supermodel, Vehn Mathieu was more—”

  Vehn hit the power button on the remote, just stopping short of throwing it through the plate glass wall. Even after he shut down the television, the words kept repeating themselves in a horrific loop over and over inside his head as he wandered over to the refrigerator, looking inside for the hundredth time. Not that he was hungry, but just to give him something to do while he waited to hear anything more about Callie.

  Evana had texted him when she had arrived at Callie’s condo to let him know she was all right, but he hadn’t heard anything since. That was nine fucking hours ago!

  The door opened and closed, relieving him of his solitude. He was elated to finally have some company now that Tegan was home from work… until the tabloid was slapped down on the counter in front of him.

  “That motherfucking cunt!” Vehn growled, scanning the cover. “I’m going to need a body bag and a shovel pronto.”

  Tegan slapped him on the shoulder. “Helping bury the bodies are what friends are for. Besides, that bitch is scrawny enough we wouldn’t need a bag. We could just fold her in half and jam her narrow ass in one of those 55 gallon drums, weigh it down, and drop it in the Hudson.”

  “Who are you?” Vehn scoffed. “Have you always been this violent?”

  Tegan shrugged, setting the plastic take-out bag on the counter before grabbing a beer out of the fridge. “You need to eat something.”

  “What?”

  “I know how you are. You don’t eat when you get all stressed out about shit.”

  “Dude, are you my mom now?” Vehn griped.

  “Don’t call me dude,” Tegan warned.

  “So, you gonna tell me what’s up with you and Rayna?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing doesn’t stay overnight,” Vehn pointed out.

  “Just drop it and keep your damn mouth shut. She doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  “To know what, Tegan? You just said it was nothing.”

  “Pfft. Are you deliberately trying to pick a fight with me, Vehn? The only reason you’re not picking your teeth up off the floor right now is because I know you’re stressed about Callie, so get off my ass about Rayna before I change my fucking mind.”

  Vehn thought a moment about pushing Tegan just to see how far he could get before he made good on his threat. On second thought, showing up at his lawyers’ office with a fucked-up face wasn’t going to do him any good, especially since he would be facing a slew of publicity.

  Deciding he would photograph better with his teeth, he backed off the guy and walked around to the other side of the kitchen island, plopping down on a leather stool. Folding his arms on the counter in front of him, he laid his head down on his crossed arms, releasing an exhausted breath. Smirking to himself, he realized he had subconsciously picked the same stool Callie had sat on with that overwhelmed looked on her face Tuesday night.

  Tegan plated up the take-out and pushed one in front of Vehn.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Vehn hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the scent of fresh pasta and marinara hit his nose. His stomach let out a cry of relief.

  Tegan flipped him a bird while walking around the island, taking the seat next to him.

  “Man, that’s good. I really needed the carbs,” Vehn said around a mouthful of penne. “I mean it, T, thanks for bringing home take-out.”

  Not much for accepting thanks from anyone, Tegan just gave him a quick nod before asking, “So what’s the latest from your lawyer?”

  They finished off two Styrofoam containers while Vehn caught Tegan up on his attorney’s approach to his situation. He had always been impressed with the speed and efficiency with which Mr. Petersen handled his business.

  “Have you heard anything at all from the people at the shop? She’s still blocking me, and I don’t want to stalk her at work. I mean, I’m trying to give her the space she asked for, but fuck me, I’m feeling really raw right now.”

  “Nada. The shop stays so busy I don’t think anyone has time for gossip.”

  “Well, fuck!”

  “It hasn’t even been an entire day yet, man. Just give her some time. You don’t want to appear desperate. Besides, once your attorney talks to her, she’ll know the truth.”

  “I hope so. What I don’t get is why she even listened to that bullshit in the first place. Why the hell didn’t she just come to me and ask? Honestly, I’m kind of pissed off at her that she hasn’t talked to me to hear my side of it. I thought she trusted me.”

  “Look, I don’t know what to tell you about Callie. If she won’t talk to you, there’s not a whole hell of a lot you can do. Just promise me you won’t resort to stalking her at work.”

  “That helps not at all, Tegan.”

  “Sorry, but that’s all I’ve got,” Tegan said, finishing off his beer.

  “So, about you and Rayna—”

  “Not going there, bro,” Tegan interrupted. Grabbing both plates, he made quick work out loading the dishwasher.

  “Wow, you brought home dinner and you do dishes? You’re gonna make a fine wife one day, T.”

  “Pfft—”

  Callie managed to make it through the past six days, but not without going through a case of tissues. The previous Thursday had been one of the worst days she’d been through since her mom’s death.

  She felt she was still in mourning over losing what she had had with Vehn, since broken relationships were a death of sorts. Albeit not a tangible thing, they were still very much alive. They were born, they grew and thrived, and then they died. Whether it was from the actual loss of the person the relationship had been with or because the emotions were gone, disintegrating to nothing over time.

  Avie had managed to find time that day to stop by to check on her and to deliver a box of her favorite Godiva chocolates despite the fact that she and Evana were absent. Lord only knew how she had found a moment to leave the shop with all the rescheduling of her and Evana’s appointments, but Callie was thrilled to have the comfort and support her friends provided.

  Evana had ended up staying that night with her. She guessed the woman was worried she would do something rash, but Callie was grateful for the company.

  It was evident that Vehn had already talked to Evana, though she hadn’t mentioned it. Just by her comments, it was apparent she was pro-Vehn and believed what he was saying, but it wasn’t her heart on the chopping block. Callie wasn’t going to be so quick to buy his excuses, and it was all still too fresh, and there were just too many uncertainties for her to stop being overly cautious and trust her heart with him.

  After the excruciating wait at the walk-in clinic to have her blood drawn and sent off to the lab, Evana had dragged her sorry ass to the gym, hoping some cardio would snap her out of her funk and take her mind off the long wait for her test results.

  It had started to work until they both noticed a couple of girls pointing and staring in her direction. Evana had just shrugged it off, thinking it was just paranoia getting the better of them. Then the two fitness cunts bounced over, camera phones posed at the ready to where they were jogging on the treadmills, asking if Callie was “that girl on TV”.

  Thank fuck for Evana's snappy come back! They had managed to avoid a scene at the gym and got out of there before anything major happened. Callie wondered how much worse thi
s was going to get. The paparazzi hadn’t bothered her yet, but she was certain it was only a matter of time. No way would she get out of this without some cameras in her face.

  Rayna had insisted she stay that weekend with her. She claimed she was lonely now that Brent was gone, but Callie knew better. She knew her friends were worried about her, so she went along with the ruse, giving into Rayna’s request.

  As Monday morning arrived and she’d received the call from the clinic giving her the all clear, Callie had thanked her friend and went back home to her condo in Brooklyn. It was time to get back to some kind of version of normal.

  Besides, Callie needed to get away from Rayna’s culinary skills before she gained any more weight. That girl could cook like nobody’s business. No doubt she had inherited her skills from her old-fashioned southern mom. Paula Dean had nothing on Rayna Nichols.

  This was her first day back to work after a week. After the gym incident, Evana suggested she take some vacation time and stay out of view of the public for a bit. Callie had agreed and was glad she did. Up until the day before, she hadn’t been able to stop crying, so she wouldn’t have done anybody any good at work anyway.

  Making her way down the hall, she passed by Tegan’s work space and they exchanged the usual pleasantries. He didn’t make a move to intervene on his roommate’s behalf, but he was a guy, too, and guys didn’t usually get involved in other people’s shit like women did. Plus, Tegan was normally kind of quiet anyway so Callie really didn’t expect him to talk to her about his best friend.

  As she got set up for her first client, her eye kept wandering over to the beach scene Callie had asked Evana the week before to replace the one of Vehn. It would hurt too much for her to look at the image of him, but the empty beach scene was just as depressing. It was as if he had stepped out of the photograph. Same beach, no Vehn. Despite the warm glow from the sun reflecting off the tide as it stretched its way onto the beach, it seemed cold and vacant.

  Desolate, like her now empty heart.

  It was so strange how after a catastrophe everything was the same but unfamiliar all at the same time, like you were viewing it all through new eyes. New as in everything had changed and would never be the same again.

  The same phenomenon had happened to her when her mom and Kyle had passed, then when her relationship with Ryder had ended. She felt so fragile on the inside, covered by skin that felt so damn thin it might as well be transparent.

  “Hey.” Cale knocked softly on the jamb.

  “Hey,” Callie answered, glancing his way.

  Looking quickly away from the sympathy swimming in Cale’s eyes was essential to keeping the fragile dam she had slapped in place that morning before coming into work intact. She knew once her tears began to fall, there would be no stopping them.

  Before she realized Cale’s intentions, he'd bolted forward pulling her into an awkward hug. The top of his head came to just under her nose, since he topped out at 5’10 and she was wearing her signature stilettos, which put her at about 6 feet. Her nose buried in the masculine scent of his blond head as she hesitantly hugged him back, shirking the ridiculous notion to ask him what kind of shampoo he used.

  “If you need anything or want to talk, you know where to find me,” he whispered in her ear, and then was gone as quickly as he had come.

  Callie had to blink hard and force a breath into her tight lungs. Usually, Cale’s idea of a show of affection was smacking her on the back of the head or shooting her with a rubber band. He truly was the little brother she never had. A constant pain in her ass that she held close to her heart. Him hugging her without trying to give her a wedgie was a tear jerker to say the least.

  Fucking Cale!

  “Callie, Lizbeth is here.”

  Momentarily dazed, Callie just stared at Avie’s now lime green hair. “Your hair was watermelon red last week, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “What did you… I mean how…”

  Avie tilted her head to the side as amusement played across her glossy lips. “You need a minute or you want me to send her on back?”

  Even though Callie was preoccupied with staring at the girl’s prest-o chang-o hair color, she managed an answer, “Um… I’m ready. You can send her on back.”

  “OK.” Avie’s long lime green locks swung out around her shoulders as she turned on her high heel, heading back in the direction of the reception area.

  Callie just pinched the bridge of her nose, holding a headache at bay when Lizbeth came sauntering in.

  “Hey, Callie girl!”

  She couldn’t have picked a better client to start her first day back with than Lizbeth. Her client’s effervescent personality was going to be a soothing balm to her ravaged soul. The girl talked non-stop, even more than Callie did, and never expected an answer in return. Callie could tattoo and, not to be rude, but tune the girl out while she worked since she wouldn’t have to keep up with the conversation. She wouldn’t have to pretend to be happy or plaster a fake smile on her face either, which was good because she didn’t think she had it in her.

  True to form, Lizbeth hopped up on Callie’s cushy client chair and started yammering away. The only time Callie got to talk was to discuss the placement of the new school zombie girl, which was met with overzealous approval. After that, Lizbeth was on her own to chatter away.

  Callie transferred the design to Lizbeth’s calf. Grabbing the preferred tattoo gun, she began making the design a permanent piece of art on her clients’ lower leg.

  Soon, the other girl’s chattering turned into a steady murmur, keeping her focused on her work, helping keep her mind grounded and from wondering too far off track. For instance, stopping her from rehashing out all that had happened the previous Thursday.

  Given the size of the tattoo, she would be working on Lizbeth most of the day. Normally, Callie would spread a piece this large out over several sessions, but Lizbeth’s pain threshold was off the charts, and the only thing that ever moved on the girl once Callie got started was her mouth. By the time she was finished with Lizbeth, all she would have time for was two consultations, and then it was closing time, so she wouldn’t have any time to ponder all the shit.

  No one mentioned Vehn. With the exception of the occasional sad smile Cale would toss her way, as if her pet had died, it was a normal busy workday that she was damn glad about. She needed normal. She needed a break from crazy extravagant dates, over-the-top condo penthouses, famous people, and paparazzi. It was like when you ate really rich food for a few days straight—you craved the basics, and nothing else could fill that craving like a P.B. and J.

  She had caught Tegan eyeballing her during her quick break like he wanted to say something but kept it to himself. Good! She wasn’t in the mood to hear anything more in Vehn’s defense. Evana had done enough of that already. And Callie wasn’t ready to give up on her theory that he’d lied to her about Regina.

  Her insides were chewed up raw, and all she wanted to do was skate through that day and the next two until she could make it to her next day off on Sunday. Maybe by then she would be able to drum up enough courage to talk to Vehn, or maybe by then some new information would come to light. She could take that with her to her appointment she'd managed to get with Dr. Z the following Tuesday.

  She needed to hear what the doctor had to say about her new situation, because she wasn’t ready to trust herself to make any kind of relationship decision without the help of a professional, and she was determined this time to not make another colossal mistake like she had in the past.

  Maybe she could finally make a decision at that point, whether she should break it off completely or take a chance and continue on. But right now, her emotions were too naked and sensitive to make any kind of rational choice possible.

  Every time she'd dipped her needle in one of the colorful ink cups she carefully laid out for Lizbeth's tattoo, she got a glimpse of the sugar skull on her wrist. She'd found herself running her hand over the
thing all week as if to draw strength from her tiny but permanent reminder that she needed to at least try and make a good decision this time.

  Once she did talk to Vehn and heard his side of it, she wasn't just going to give him the benefit of the doubt, either. She couldn't run the risk if he lied that she would believe him, only to be hurt again later, and worse than she already was now.

  Lizbeth's zombie girl had turned out spectacularly despite Callie's somber mood. The tattoo was one of the best of Callie's career. It was super saturated, and popped dramatically off her client’s pale skin. She would have loved to have this piece showcased on the wall at Exotic Ink, but that would mean Vehn would have to photograph it, and she wasn't about to ask him to do it. Maybe she could use Evana as a go between and get it done for her.

  After her two consultations had come and gone, the day had finally come to an end. As Callie was cleaning up her area, Avie knocked on her jamb with a very well-dressed older businessman type in tow. He had that same air about him that made her think of Rayna’s client, Judge Satterfield. She wondered how much of his skin was covered in ink under that tailored suit.

  “You have a guest,” Avie said, stepping back as the man held his hand out to greet her.

  “Hello, Miss Mackenzie. I’m West Petersen, with the law firm of Newton, Bradshaw, and Petersen. I was wondering if you could spare me a few moments.”

  Oh! Fuck! Me! This cannot be good! Callie’s inner red alert went wild. If he were a potential client, first of all Avie would have mentioned it, and secondly, he wouldn’t be introducing himself with a big ass law firm tag attached to the end of his name.

  “Maybe you should start by telling me what it is you want before I say anything more.” Callie ignored the outstretched hand.

  “Of course, is there a place we can talk privately?” The lawyer gave Avie a cursory glance.

  “This is about as private as it’s gonna get, so out with it.” Callie was in no mood for any more games, and waiting for another bomb to drop was wearing thin on her last fucking nerve.