Safe to love you (Ink Series - Spin Off Book 2)

by Jude Ouvrard

  SAFE TO LOVE YOU

  By

  Jude Ouvrard

  Ink Series– Spin Off #2

  All Rights Reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form (electronic or print) without permission from the author. Please do not participate in piracy or violating the author’s rights.

  Editor: Debbie Williams

  Proofread: Megan Noelle and Simone Beaudelaire

  Cover Design: Kari March Design

  Cover Picture: Wisky

  Copyright © 2016 Jude Ouvrard

  To all of you who supported me from the start.

  This is the start.

  Chapter ONE

  Presley

  THE HOT WATER washes against my face as I attempt to scrub off the memories once again. Nothing seems to work. I close my eyes and try to think of nothing but the washing of my face. For over a month I’ve been haunted with the thoughts and memories of her…Kelly.

  I groan. Just the thought of her name makes my stomach ache.

  As the water drips off my face I look into the mirror and focus on the ridiculous reflection of a pathetic man. What is happening to me?

  You are so lame, Presley. Get over it.

  I have a good family, good friends and a job I love. That should be enough to keep me happy and on track, but I’m losing it.

  I thought she was a great girl. An honest girl. I can't believe it. She used me, used my name, and I gave it my all during her photo shoot. It was one of the best I have ever done. We had great chemistry. I thought we were getting along perfectly. I even bought a new lens and new equipment, just to please her. I wanted to make it a special day for her, because I thought she deserved it.

  I should've known, the second I gave her the portfolio, her attitude would change. She went from super sweet to super bitch. I'm just too naive sometimes. I should've known better. Never date a girl in the business; it brings you nothing but trouble. We had fun while it lasted, but the way it ended still tears me up. I liked her free spirited attitude and how wild she was. I may not have been madly in love with her, but I expected more than to be thrown out like garbage when she was finished with me.

  When I met her a year ago, she was working on a photography set as an assistant. We talked a little at the time, but didn’t rush into anything. Kelly was good friends with one of the models I was shooting. I gave her my card, something I do all the time. She’d done a few modeling gigs in the past, but nothing major yet. I'm a busy photographer, but I still enjoy working on portfolios for up and coming models.

  Kelly called me a week after we met and we went out for drinks. We discovered we share a passion for tattoos and music. We had a blast that night; we played pool, drank beer and I thought why not see her again?

  We caught up with one another a few more times before we started seriously dating. She had a troubled past and I knew about it, but that didn’t matter to me. Everyone has a past; hers just happened to be a little more challenging. Kelly was sweet and I enjoyed being with her. She made me laugh, she was a real goofball and I needed that in my life.

  After a while, she was staying pretty regularly at my place. I liked falling asleep and waking up next to her. We hadn't talked about making the situation permanent, but I believed she was starting to consider it. My life with Kelly mirrored the life of Hollywood stars. Most nights we partied until the early hours, bouncing from one event to the next as if that were our job. Kelly had a lot of friends and even more connections. I had never known this sort of life before I met her.

  ’Do you think we're ever going to get tired of this?’ Kelly asked me once, in the middle of one of the biggest events we had been invited to. With my camera in one hand and her in the other, I lost myself in the music and atmosphere that surrounded us.

  ‘I don't know, Kel, but let's just enjoy while it lasts,’ I chuckled. ‘I’ve met some important people tonight; one guy said I should hear back from him later this week. A tattoo magazine shoot–that would be great if it worked out.’

  ‘Maybe if you keep getting important contracts, your family will stop hating me.’ Kelly had looked pained when she spoke. She’d never done anything wrong around them, but my family had heard rumors about her history as a wild child, and disapproved of the way we spent our time.

  ‘They don't hate you, Kel. They just don’t understand our crazy lifestyle.’

  My dad, my brother and my sister never liked Kelly. After I introduced her to them, they warned me to be careful, but I didn't listen. With Kelly, I was having so much fun, I felt like a teenager again. We were always on the go, doing whatever the hell we felt like doing. Almost to the point of selfishness. Running our lives the way we wanted to, became our top priority and to hell with everyone else.

  Things changed after I offered to work on her portfolio. Kelly was truly happy about the offer, and it made me happy to help her out. The day of her photo shoot, she was ecstatic. I knew exactly what theme to go for; showing off her ink and making sure she looked her absolute best. I gave her some quick prints that night and the following day, I gave her the professional quality photos. Everything changed that day. I’d given her what she was after–-professional photographs taken by a well-known and well-respected photographer. She didn’t need me anymore and by the time I got home from work that night, Kelly was gone. She packed up everything at my apartment, and left without so much as a goodbye. When I tried to contact her, she wouldn’t return my calls. Days later, I heard from a mutual contact that she’d packed up and headed to Europe, determined to make it as a professional model.

  During my crazy relationship with Kelly, I had been seriously slacking at work. One of my major New York contracts was coming up in two weeks and I needed to get my shit together. I had a mantra, which I kept telling myself, almost constantly, while I came to terms with Kelly’s behaviour: Be a man, Presley! This is your life. Your reputation. Everything you've worked so hard for over the years. It’s time to get back in the game. Be better. Be stronger. Man up!

  I know life will continue to throw curveballs at me; I’m just trying to convince myself that Kelly was one of those curveballs. I know it’s time to walk away from the hurt, and learn from it.

  Getting dressed for the day, I shake my thoughts away and focus on something else. No more Kelly. I pick my favorite jeans and t-shirt, tousle my hair just a bit and get something to eat.

  Tonight, my favorite band is in town, playing a gig. It’s my night, I decide. I need to start fresh and move on from the Kelly situation. First though, I need to call Joshua, my brother. I haven't seen him much lately and I miss his company. We get along well; at least, we did until Hurricane Kelly happened. I grab my phone and call him right away.

  ''Joshua, do you still have my ticket to the concert, or did you find someone else to take it?'' I ask.

  "I knew you'd decide to come! I still have it, and it's yours, man.''

  ''Great! I'll meet you at the bar before the concert.'' Already, I feel my mood lifting—for the first time in weeks. This is shaping up to a good night.

  ''Alright!” Joshua sounds pleased. “Ali is coming along, too,'' he a
dds, and I can hear the smile in his voice when he mentions his girlfriend.

  “Great! See you then! Take care, Josh.'' I'm smiling. Shit, I'm finally smiling again. Baby steps, but I already feel better.

  I've been pretty boring lately. I haven’t gone out much in recent weeks, I was too upset about the Kelly situation, and quite frankly, I thought I was missing her. It never occurred to me that she was going to be the girl I married, but honestly, being with her was crazily addictive. I didn’t care about anything else when I was with Kelly. Her wildness engulfed me, blinded me to everything else. All that existed was Kelly–the parties, the drinking and, fuck...the sex. I was carried away by her intoxicating lifestyle and I drank it up faster that the shots of tequila she used to pour down my throat.

  At first, after she left, I missed it. Then, after a while, I figured out that maybe it wasn’t right to live like that on a long-term basis. After months of the life of a rock star, I needed a break. Hell, my body needs it.

  So for a long while, I stayed in my apartment most of the time; did some painting, worked on my photos or caught up on sleep. To be honest, I’d had my feelings crushed by her and I turned into a bit of a hermit.

  I realize now that it has to change. I want a social life again. I need to get out and about, with my real friends, not the fake people I spent time with when I was with Kelly. I’ve missed hanging out with my siblings. I'm done moping around because of a girl. She kicked down my pride, and it hurt; but today is the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

  Chapter TWO

  Abbie

  LOVE, NOUN

  1. A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

  2. A feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.

  3. Sexual passion or desire.

  4. A person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart.

  I've been dating Dean Hurley for the past three years. The problem is–-I just don't feel it anymore. I've been reading the definitions of ‘love’ for over an hour while listening to a remix of my favorite songs. Sitting on my bed with my legs crossed, I repeat each meaning out loud. In my mind, I don't think of Dean when I think of the word ‘love’ anymore. Unfortunately, I know I'm done with him. The word ‘hate’ is feeling more appropriate and it’s about time I finally accept it.

  Stepping out of the bed, I put my book aside and realize now, that I haven't been in love with him for a long time. Ever since he started acting like a jerk, just before our first anniversary. When I met him, I thought he was my soul mate, however, as the months went by, his attitude towards me started to change and my impressions of him changed. Dean’s new position as a financial director went to his head, and now he thinks he’s superior to me and he loves reminding me of the fact.

  Lost in my thoughts, I add some more powder to my cheeks, I want to look pretty and feel good about myself tonight. Lately, I’ve put double the time into my work and didn’t take time for myself. I’m anxious about tonight. Regardless of anything else, the passion in our relationship is gone. The sex has gotten boring, and I don't see myself with him five years from now. I don’t even see myself with him next week. I have to admit though; I'm not looking forward to breaking up with Dean, because he tends to get mad when he suffers any rejection. Actually, mad is probably an understatement. I'm afraid he’ll get nasty when I tell him it’s over.

  I saw him turn nasty few months ago while we were out with his friends. An old girlfriend showed up and they started arguing. I didn't like it. He scared me.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here, Joyce? You don’t belong here. Get a fucking life, this is my life. I don’t want to see your pathetic face again, understand? Or is it too complicated?’

  ‘What’s wrong with you, Dean?’ She tried to get closer to him but he pushed away.

  ‘Don’t Dean me, don’t talk to me or even look my way. You’re nothing, Joyce. I’m so happy I got rid of you.’ She stood there, silent and in shock. ‘Now, I suggest you go back to wherever the fuck you came from. I don’t want to see your face anymore.’

  She nodded and I never saw her again.

  I was ashamed to be his girlfriend when I saw him behaving the way he did.

  It isn’t the only time I’ve seen the darker side of his personality. Months ago, we were attending a Christmas party with his colleagues, just having some fun, when one of his assistants started dancing with me. There was nothing going on, we were only having fun, but Dean didn't like it.

  Maybe he’d had too much to drink. He escorted me out to the hallway, and as soon as we were in private, he pushed me up against the wall and started calling me names that I'd rather not recall. The grin on his face as he told me exactly what kind of trash I was told me everything I needed to know. He said I was his, and other men were not allowed to talk with me, or dance with me. Dean’s a very jealous man and he’s great at destroying my self-esteem. After he was done yelling, we left the party. Dean told everyone I was sick.

  I cried the whole night. He didn’t hit me, in fact, he never has, but his words were designed to destroy me. He calls me ‘a parasite’, ‘a useless bitch’, or ‘a fucking whore.

  Whenever Dean is with me, he's controlling and covetous, and always has been. When we’re with his friends, his behavior is more acceptable. It's the only reason I've managed to stay with him for this long.

  Most of the time, we're with his friends, so he's polite and courteous. To be honest, being alone in Seattle is what scares me the most, and it’s the main reason I’ve stayed with Dean for so long.

  I'll need to break up with him in a public place; somewhere he’ll be wary of losing control. Maybe we could go to a park. Just thinking about it makes me incredibly nervous. My stomach ties itself in knots and a shiver runs down my spine. I need to calm down. Tomorrow night, it’s going to be over, and I’ll be free. I feel better already, knowing I’m so close to getting rid of him.

  Months ago, Dean bought tickets for tonight’s Muse concert. I love their music but I feel guilty going with him when I’m planning to leave him. I tried to tell Dean to sell my ticket to one of his friends, but he didn’t want to hear about it. He said he only bought the tickets to please me. So here I am getting ready for a night with Dean and his friends. I want to go because they’re my favorite band but it doesn’t feel right. It’s making me uncomfortable. On the other hand, I know I’ll regret it if I don’t go. He's picking me up in an hour, and his friends, Jonathan and Jessie, are coming with us. Hopefully with them in tow, it'll be fun and Dean will behave.

  Looking at my clothes hanging in my closet, I’m thinking about tomorrow. I'll ask him if we can go for a walk at Waterfront Park. I have to break up with him. I can't keep pretending I want to be with him. It's wrong, and I need to make it right, both for my sake and Dean’s. I pick a few outfits but decide to go with something simple. Opting for something comfortable, I decide to wear my favorite black skinny jeans with my black and white tank top. It fits like a second skin and accentuates my breast. I love it and I doubt Dean will say anything against it. Pairing my outfit with my favorite purple converse, I know tonight will be all about having fun and dancing comfortably. I can already hear Dean's complaints in my head, but I want to be comfortable to dance. ‘Why do you always dress like you’re fifteen years old, Abbie?’, or, ‘Why do you always have to wear those damn Converse?’ I’m so tired of his attitude. I'm not a business woman, so I don't do the suit thing. I like dressing for comfort; I’m not a clothes whore. Dean is welcome to wear his boring clothes; I couldn't care less. I never complain about his awful ties—out loud at least.

  I'm lucky enough to read books for a living: I review them for the Chief Editor at a major publishing house. I don't need to dress up for my job; I can do it in my pyjamas if I feel like it. It’s one more benefit I love about my career.

  I hear the knock at the door and wipe my sweaty palms down the side of my jeans. Calm down, Abbie. Calm down. It’
s going to be okay. I go to the door but he’s using his key.

  ''Abbie, baby? Are you ready?'' Dean says, as he walks into my apartment wearing black trousers with a blue shirt and a black tie. He doesn’t smile much, but he’s staring at me. I just want to roll my eyes. Seriously?

  ''Yeah, I'm almost done'' I respond and go back to applying the last of my make-up, my mascara.

  I hear him striding through the living room. I catch sight of his reflection in the mirror, as he walks up behind me.

  “Those jeans accentuate your fine ass. But seriously, Abbie, what is it that you like about those damn shoes?''

  I knew it. I roll my eyes and try to control my irritation. ''Dean, I don’t want to spend the night killing my ankles in heels I hate to walk in, when I could wear these, be comfy and dance the night away.” I tried to gauge his mood, judging how far I could safely push. “I don’t want us to fight over this, okay?'' I deliberately kept my tone calm and soft, trying to sound reasonable. I’m always so afraid of what his reaction will be. He could order me to change clothes – he’s done it before and he certainly won’t hesitate to do it again. Tonight though, I’m praying he won’t push the subject. I don’t want to miss a second of the concert and to get there on time, we need to be leaving now.

  Dean studies me, and pushes my hair back from my face. I force myself not to react under his touch, to hide the disgust I feel when he touches me. I think he’s okay for now. He doesn’t look angry.

  ''Can we go?'' I ask. I know this isn’t the right thing to do. Dean always makes the decisions, says when we can leave, or when we come home. Normally, he has a short temper but tonight, he lets it go. It’s my lucky day.

  ''Whatever, Abbie.'' He sighs. ''Wear the damn Converse. I don’t know why you’re such a bitch. I only asked a question.''