Sanctuary (RiffRaff Records Book 5)

by L. P. Maxa

“You want another night? Is that what it’s going to take? Sex? Fine.” She rolled her eyes and laid back down, sounding bored with the thought. Like sleeping with me in exchange for this tattoo wouldn’t be anything abnormal for her.

  I shouldn’t have been shocked at her insinuation, but I was. “Evie, what the fuck is wrong with you?” She was making me feel almost ill.

  She didn’t answer—instead she kind of curled up into a little ball, wiping at her eyes with the edge of the blanket. She was crying, silent tears, and that was the beginning of my downfall.

  “I’ll tattoo you if you tell me what’s really going on. All of it.” I picked my gun back up, hoping to give her some motivation. “And you let me feed you after we’re done.” If I could find out what she was on, maybe I’d know how to help her. At least I’d have something for Uncle Waylon to tell her dad.

  “I have plans after this.”

  “That’s the deal.” I sent her a small shrug. “You want me to ink you, you let me take you to dinner.” Evie wasn’t my problem—she wasn’t. But she was a girl I’d once known, and I owed it to that young girl to find a way for her to get some help.

  She nodded, and when I started in on her outline, she let out a deep breath. She liked it, she’d liked it from the first time the needle had touched her skin two years ago. Why had she waited so long for another one? Most people who were addicted to the release got another one within weeks if not days. She was either stronger than she gave herself credit for, or she cared that much about what other people thought.

  “Start talking, princess.”

  She wiped at her eyes again, her tears still flowing slowly and breaking my damn weak heart. “Please don’t call me that.” She looked down, meeting my gaze. I nodded and she continued, “Life sucks.” She took a deep breath, her chest expanding under my hands. “My ‘friends’ are hollow and vapid. All they care about is money and power. It’s like they already strive for it. They party nonstop. They sleep around, but never talk about it. Like, they’re all whores, but everyone acts like they’re saving themselves for marriage. It’s so stupid. Classes are hard. I was smart in high school, like really smart. Here? I have private tutors and study into all hours of the night. I got everything I wanted. Friends, popularity, a full social calendar.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Everyone wants to be me, except me.”

  I’d gotten her to admit one little truth, and all the other ones had come pouring out. How long had the dam been that close to crumbling? I hadn’t seen Evie in two years, and she’d opened up to me like I was her therapist. It was no doubt a mixture of whatever she was on and the adrenaline that came from getting inked, but still. “What’s your poison?”

  “What?”

  She knew what I was asking, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her out of answering. “Uppers?”

  “No. I uh, I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.” She sniffled a little. “I have the Adderall to help me study, it’s a prescription. I don’t do drugs.”

  “I’m not stupid, despite what you might think.” Even if she had the Adderall script, she was abusing it. Adderall was nothing but small manageable doses of speed for the rich and hungry. “Keep talking.”

  “Vicodin too sometimes, you know, to take the edge off at night.” She wasn’t meeting my eyes; she was staring at the wall behind my head. But she kept sharing, kept telling me things that I knew she wasn’t meaning to. Maybe tattooing her, giving her this relief was the right call all along. “There are a lot of, um, events I have to attend. I drink, at those. I mean, I drink socially. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Coke?” I paused, wiping off her skin to get a better look at my progress.

  “Occasionally.” Her voice was small, quiet, more like the Evie I’d first met. She’d been honest, for the most part, and it had taken all of her false bravado out of her. Between that and the release of the pain, she was stripped down and bare. Vulnerable, and all the more beautiful for it.

  I had thought about seeing her again. I thought about how I would react, what I would say. I thought it’d be fun, I thought we’d have another few nights together. Maybe I’d take her on a date or two. But this? Her crying and shaking, melting under the weight of my tattoo gun? This was one scenario I’d never imagined.

  “You need some food, some water, and some real sleep, dove.” I glanced up in time to see her wiping her eyes again. “Why don’t you come spend the—”

  “Are you almost done? This is taking forever, Evie.” I stopped, more than irritated that her stuck-up friend had come in without knocking, like she owned the damn place.

  I looked at Evie, giving her a slight shake of my head. If she wanted me to continue, she’d play by my rules, exactly like the first time we met. Damn, was my life on an odd loop with this chick? History was repeating itself, in an even more fucked-up way.

  “No. Tattoos take time, Chasity.” Evie’s voice came out strong and extremely annoyed. “You should go. I’ll meet up with you guys later.” Her whole demeanor changed when she spoke to her friend. She spoke like the girl was beneath her and not worth her time or words.

  “Are you sure?” The blonde girl’s eyes darted to me then back to Evie.

  She scoffed. “He’s a tattoo artist, not a fucking rapist.” She waved her hand in the direction of the door. “Go or you’ll be late for the Pike BBQ.”

  Chasity, I guess that was her name, nodded dramatically. “Oh, that’s right, and I’ll need to shower off all this tattoo parlor funk.”

  I barely stifled a snort. “This tattoo parlor is no doubt cleaner than whatever frat house you did the walk of shame from this morning, sweetheart.” I could put up with a lot of things, but disrespecting my shop? Not one of them.

  “Wow. Asshole much?” Her expression was snotty, and so was her tone.

  “Chasity. Get the fuck out and let him finish.” Evie rolled her eyes and waved her hand in the direction of the door, dismissing her “friend” like she was nothing.

  “Fine.” She sent me a glare, then a girly wave to Evie. “Bye.” The way she said “bye” made it sound like a two-syllable word, and it made me wrinkle my nose in distaste. People really talked like that? Wow.

  As soon as the door closed, Evie’s face went back to normal, or back to the way it was before her friend walked in. Her fake smile was gone, and replaced with a real one. It was smaller, less obvious and somewhat apologetic. “Sorry.” And her tone dropped an octave or two.

  “You should be an actress.”

  She scoffed. “You have no idea.”

  But that was where she was wrong. I was starting to get a really good picture of Evie’s life. And every part of it made me sad for her. She didn’t seem to have any real friends. She’d acted like a completely different person the second that snotty little head had poked in the room. She was taking uppers to keep up with the pace of her life and downers to take the edge off how shitty it felt when she was falling. She partied too much and too often. And hell only knew what else she did to make people think she was rock royalty.

  The Evie James I’d met two years ago was a different girl. That Evie was buried under too many lies and so much shit, that she was literally about to suffocate. I could see her drowning in front of me, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to pull her out of the water or swim the other way so she didn’t take me down with her.

  Chapter Ten

  Evie

  “Hey, little bird, we’re all done.”

  I blinked my eyes open, taking in my surroundings and wondering for a good twenty seconds where the hell I was. I pushed myself into a sitting position. “Did you call me ‘little bird?’”

  “Well, dove, you shook like a scared little bird they whole time I was inking you.” Nicky was standing at the counter, cleaning up. “And you’re thinner than fuck. So there’s that.”

  Dove made me smile, despite myself. Little bird made me sound like I needed rescuing. I didn’t. I made it this far; I could make it the rest of the way. I pulled
the blanket tighter around myself, peering at my ribs in the mirror. “Tons of people have bony ribs.” I wanted to roll my eyes and give him lots of attitude, but I honestly didn’t have the energy.

  “Oh yeah?” He turned to face me, crossing his sexy tattooed forearms over his chest. “How about your hips? Or your collarbone?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Did you fucking look at me naked while I was sleeping? Isn’t that against some kind of code or something?” I grabbed my shorts off the chair and pulled them on under the blanket.

  “Hell yeah I looked.” He stood up straighter, taking a step toward me. “I had to see how bad it’d gotten. And fucking? Is cussing like the rest of us something you do now too?”

  “Seems fucking like it, doesn’t it?” I matched him, step for step. “And you had no right to do that, how twisted—”

  “I had no right?” He hung his head, shaking it slightly. “You’re sick, Evie. You need help.” He started ticking things off on his tattooed fingers. “You need food, you need rest, and you need to talk to someone.” He leaned forward, getting more in my face. “You. Need. Help.”

  “Look, I said I’d let you feed me, and I will.” I dropped the blanket I’d been holding over me, smiling wickedly when he couldn’t help but look. “But that’s all you’ll ever get.”

  He reached down and past me, his face coming dangerously close to my chest. My breath hitched and my heart started to pound even harder at his nearness. “We’ll see about that, little bird.” He straightened, handing me my shirt and holding my gaze. “Get dressed.” He stepped back, his hands on his hips.

  ***

  I ate as much of the cheeseburger as I could, which was about half. I felt fuller than I had in a long time. “I’m done. And if I’m being completely honest, forcing a cheeseburger down the skinny girl’s throat is a little cliché.” And a lot annoying.

  He looked up from his plate, his gaze assessing me. “You need to take the rest home with you, soak up all the alcohol you’re planning on pouring down your throat to drown your sorrows when you leave here.”

  “Oh, and you don’t drink?” I rolled my eyes, pushing my food away. Some of the fight had left me, but not all. His little holier than thou act was starting to really grate on my already frayed nerves.

  “I don’t use alcohol to numb my fears.” He sent me a tight smile, polishing off the last off his fries.

  I scoffed. “What makes you think I do?” Was he this self-righteous the first time we’d had a meal together? Maybe the memory of Nicky was much better than the reality. Wouldn’t that be amazing? Then I could stop thinking about him every other damn day.

  “You did it at my house. You downed two glasses of wine, and then asked for a third. Are you going to tell me that wasn’t in response to the fact that you wanted to lose your virginity to a virtual stranger?”

  I took a sip of my ice water. “No, but it also had nothing to do with fear.” When he raised a challenging eyebrow in response, I felt compelled to defend myself and my decision to have sex with him. I was already laid bare in front of him, and he’d already seen almost all of my flaws and weaknesses. I didn’t need to give him something else to throw in my face. “I was nervous. But I wasn’t scared.” I bit my lower lip, fighting back sudden and unwanted tears. “Fear was the one thing I never felt in your presence. Never once, not for a second.”

  If I was scared of anything that night, it was myself. In hindsight, I was right to be terrified of the person I was becoming.

  Nicky shook his head, sighing sadly before leaning forward in his seat. He reached out, wiping the tears from my cheeks in an achingly familiar gesture. “Come home with me, Evie, let me help you.” His eyes went soft. “You can rest. You can hide out and just…rest.”

  If only I could, if only my life was that simple. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to put my hand in his and let him save me. I wanted to let the tattooed god with a heart of gold make everything better. I wanted him to make all the pain and loneliness go away. I knew he could—he’d done it for me before.

  But I wasn’t that girl anymore. She was stuffed so far down inside me that I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to find her again. I hung my head, wiping at my own tears, no longer letting him see them fall. “I can’t.”

  I had an image to maintain, image was everything. And more still, I had two more years at this nightmare of a college. I’d worked too hard to throw it all away now. I put my napkin on the table and got to my feet. “I’ve got to go.” I had places I had to be, I had a life I hated that I had to live. I’d made this mess—I’d gotten everything I’d ever wanted. But happiness sure as hell wasn’t what I woke up every day feeling.

  “Evie, please don’t leave.” Nicky grasped for my hand, but I pulled it back in time.

  “Thank you for dinner, and thank you for…well, thank you for today, I guess.” I turned away before I fell into his arms and begged him to save me. He wasn’t my knight in shining armor, and I wasn’t a damsel in distress. I was rock and roll royalty with fake friends waiting for her at the Pike house.

  As soon as I got out the door I reached into my purse, popped another Adderall and washed it down with the vodka that was hiding in my water bottle. I made my bed, and now it was time I fucked in it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Evie

  I didn’t bother to change before I headed over to the Pike party. It’s not like it would really make a difference one way or the other. If I ever looked a little disheveled people chalked it up to my rock-star upbringing. Which was completely ludicrous when I thought about it. My mom made banana nut muffins and volunteered with the PTA. My dad did crosswalk duty once a week when I was in elementary school, neon orange vest and all.

  “Evie. There’s my favorite girl.” Maykin came up and wrapped her arms around my neck, like we hadn’t seen each other only hours earlier. I liked Mayk the most out of my fake friends. “You need a cocktail?” She shimmied her shoulders a little, a smile lighting up her perfectly spray-tanned face.

  “Obviously.” I returned her grin, knowing it probably didn’t reach my eyes. They rarely did these days.

  “Let me see the tat, you little rocker you.”

  I rolled my eyes as she twirled me in a circle before lifting my shirt. It was still covered in the plastic Nicky had applied earlier. I knew I needed to get home and uncover it, but that would have to wait. This party was where I needed to be right now.

  “That looks sick, E.” She let my shirt fall and then led me by the hand into the kitchen. “How are the guys that work there? Hot? Tattooed? Maybe I should get one. I could use a little bad-boy infusion in my life.” She winked. “And by life we both know where I mean.”

  “I know what you mean, Mayk.” Maybe that was part of the reason I actually enjoyed Maykin. She wasn’t nearly as fake as all my other friends. She was spunky, artsy, and a little bit crazy. The only reason she’d been allowed to rush Kappa Delta was because her mom and grandma had been members back in the day. She was a legacy. Otherwise, I was sure Hannah and her clones would have found a reason to keep her out. She had fiery red hair after all. It didn’t really go with their theme.

  We walked up to the large wood bar situated in what should have been a formal dining room. Some lowly underclassman was pouring drinks tonight. “Hello, ladies, what’s your poison?”

  I inhaled a sharp breath. What’s your poison? That was what Nicky had asked me earlier. That had been the beginning of my meltdown. I’d never meant to tell him everything. I had never meant to tell him anything.

  “E?” Maykin slapped my ass. “Tell the kid what you want to drink, we’re holding up the line.”

  “Uh, yeah, anything with vodka.” Both the kid and Maykin looked at me like I’d grown another head. My voice was soft, my request almost sounded sweet. I cleared my throat and straightened my spine. “And don’t try to slip me the cheap shit, we both know there is a case of Grey Goose back there.” There, that was more like it.

  I
leaned against the bar studying Maykin while the guy (I wouldn’t bother to learn his name) mixed our drinks. “If you want to get inked, you should walk in and request Bleu.” He’d have a coronary, automatically assuming that Maykin would want something small and girly. Even if I wouldn’t be there to see it, no doubt, it would be hilarious. She was an art major and would request something spectacular, shocking him into next week.

  “Is that who you use?”

  “Yep.” I let the p in the word pop. I lied to her face and I didn’t feel bad about it. I didn’t want Maykin alone with Nicky. She’d hit on him, and she was beautiful. And for some reason I couldn’t stomach the thought of the two of them hooking up. In fact, it was making me pretty damn nauseous.

  “Here you go. Two vodka tonics, hold the cheap shit.” He winked at me and I sent him a flirty smile back. I shouldn’t play with the kids like that, but like I’d said earlier, it’d become a habit. And I should really stop since I was currently dating the president of Pi Kappa Alpha. He was what Cash and Crue would call a douche canoe. He was wealthy, cocky, well dressed, and gunning for partner in his father’s law firm by the time he was thirty.

  He also kept me buried in pills; he was a necessary evil.

  “Evie, princess, there you are.” Collin put his hand on the back of my neck, drawing me toward him roughly and placing a hard kiss on my lips. “You’re late.”

  “Yeah, I am.” I raised a defiant eyebrow, daring him to push me. This was our relationship; we were toxic as fuck. We’d danced around each other most of the year, and I’d been able to keep him at arm’s length until April. In April I had finals, as well as several events to close out the semester. I used all the Adderall I was allowed by my prescription after week two. Collin gave me the extra, uh, boost I needed to get everything done. After that, he had me.

  He kissed my lips again, harshly. “You’re lucky you’re hot as fuck.”

  I snorted. “You’re lucky you’re well…connected.” I sent him a sneer and his hand fisted in my hair at the base of my scalp. Collin was handsome, but he was a bit of a prick. He acted like he was better than everyone in any room he occupied. I liked kicking him in the balls any chance I got.