Stronger (Stark Ink Book 4)

by West, Dahlia

  She shrugged. “Forgot.”

  Jonah snorted. “You keep forgetting and you’ll have to ask Santa for new fingers.”

  “Santa’s not real.”

  She looked up at him and Jonah got the distinct feeling that she was testing him again, spoiling for a fight. “Maybe, maybe not,” he hedged. “I’ve never seen him.”

  “Does he leave you presents?”

  Not for years. “Sometimes,” Jonah lied.

  She smiled.

  And damned if Jonah didn’t feel better for it. “If you don’t go inside and go to sleep, you won’t get anything.”

  Or she might get a whipping, who knew?

  Jonah sucked in a breath, testing the air. Hard to tell whether the cold or the drunk inside was a bigger danger.

  The girl looked up at him with wide, shimmering eyes. He couldn’t make out the color. “Do you think he’ll call?” she whispered.

  “Your dad?” Jonah shrugged and blew out a harsh breath. It fogged in the night like white smoke. “Maybe. He might. You’d better go inside. Just in case he calls tonight. You could miss—”

  “Sienna!”

  The shrill voice shattered the calm of the night.

  Sienna turned back suddenly, startled.

  Jonah watched her carefully, looking closely, but she didn’t seem all that afraid.

  “Coming!” she called back. She turned back to him, but he pushed her away gently.

  “Go,” he told her softly. “Go inside. It’s cold.”

  She turned and slid open the back door to her house. A blast of heat hit Jonah, reminding him just how cold it was. He stepped back into the shadows, out of sight.

  Sienna entered the kitchen. Her mother barely noticed her. She stumbled past her daughter to the refrigerator. From the freezer, she produced another clear bottle and twisted the cap.

  Jonah’s guts twisted in anger as he watched.

  Sienna left the kitchen, presumably to wait for Santa.

  Jonah turned back to the scrub trees where he’d dropped his duffel bag. As he picked it up, a light came on in a window just a few feet away. The curtain pulled back and Sienna appeared. She waved at him.

  He waved back.

  When she disappeared, she left the light on. Maybe she liked it that way; she was young, after all. He noticed that his window faced hers. Not his window. The window of the room the Starks had shown him.

  Through Sienna’s back door, Jonah watched as her mother took another drink and then collapsed onto the couch again.

  So many windows for seeing and being seen. Yet no one was watching this girl.

  He hefted the bag again and looked into the darkness beyond the houses. Jonah lived in the darkness. He wasn’t afraid of it. He’d hidden in the dark, listening for footsteps coming down the hall to his bedroom. The dark was neither friend nor foe. It was nothing to be feared.

  So, it wasn’t out of fear that Jonah turned away from it and back to the Stark house. It was something else altogether.

  Something he didn’t have a name for.

  Chapter Two

  Jonah awoke in his large bed over Stark Ink, not the small bed he’d slept in for so many years at the Stark house on the other side of town. It took a moment for him to come to grips with that fact. For the last several weeks, he’d dreamed about that snowy night when he’d first met Sienna. He supposed that was normal since he spent so many of his waking hours thinking of her, too.

  He sat up and rubbed his face, then scanned the one-room apartment. On the nightstand was the small grouping of objects that Jonah cared most about in the world. A framed photo of his mom, Miriam Stark; the letter she’d written to him just before she’d died of cancer tucked into well-worn copy of Treasure Island; and the compass that she’d wrapped for him that first Christmas Eve.

  To anyone else it probably would have seemed like a cheesy gift, but Jonah had held on to it all these years, eternally grateful that two strangers had cared so much about an angry little boy who’d had nowhere to go on Christmas Eve.

  Maybe it was cheesy, certainly a little sappy, but Jonah’s life had indeed changed direction that night and he would never let himself forget it.

  He stood up, stretched, and hobbled a bit to the bathroom across the room. He’d spent the entire week working out, preparing for this evening, and it showed in his stiff muscles. He turned the shower on, lukewarm as always these days, and glanced at himself in the mirror.

  A tall, well-built man with inky black hair and matching eyes stared back at him. His eyebrows were pierced on each side. Small, silver hoops glinted in the overhead light. He stripped out of his shirt, revealing a larger set of matching silver hoops, one through each nipple.

  Since Jonah’s older brother Adam had offered him the job of Stark Ink’s piercer, Jonah had taken advantage of the opportunity to explore new avenues of pain. He hadn’t given himself any more piercings lately, though, and wasn’t certain that he ever would.

  He tossed his boxer briefs and stepped into the shower, allowing the beat of the showerhead to work out last night’s reps. The free weights had given him bulk over the years, and the water now sluiced over rippling, tattooed biceps and down his six pack.

  It had been worth the years of pain and dedication. No one could hurt Jonah Stark now. Very few people ever even tried these days. And that was exactly how he liked it.

  He toweled off after the shower and walked naked back toward the bed. Passing it up, he opened the dresser instead and retrieved a new pair of jeans and black T-shirt. Standard attire for him throughout his life.

  He laced up his heavy, steel-toed boots and locked the apartment door behind him. Downstairs, the shop was just about to open for the day. Adam would already be there, workaholic that he was. Jeanette, too, their receptionist for the place. His younger sister, Ava, was probably still asleep at her boyfriend Emilio’s place.

  Jonah didn’t want to think too hard about what they’d been doing. But he was glad she’d found someone.

  And Emilio was only slightly annoying.

  True to form, Adam was already unlocking the front door and Jeanette was on the phone. Jonah gave them both a curt nod. Adam barely got the key turned all the way in the lock before two hillbillies stumbled in through the door. They’d clearly had a very late night that hadn’t yet ended. They’d probably both dared each other to get outrageously ridiculous ink.

  It happened sometimes; people who hadn’t heard about the shop around town suddenly got the bug to get some artwork done and wandered in. Adam was the best artist in the city, though, and he was booked for weeks at a time.

  Dumb and Dumber elbowed each other into the center of the lobby, red-nosed and bleary-eyed. It was barely noon and they were both half in the bag.

  Adam, used to this sort of thing and always a professional despite his ripped jeans and long hair, smirked at them. “Do you have an appointment, gentlemen?”

  They looked at each other and frowned. “Naw,” one of them drawled. “Jus’ want a tattoo.”

  His friend laughed. “Big ol’ tattoo!” he clarified, lifting his hands. Then he reached around with one and slapped his ass. “Right here!” They melted down into hysterical laughter.

  “Well, you need an appointment,” Adam informed them loudly. “And I’m afraid we’re booked solid today.”

  One of them scowled and scratched his shaggy hair. “You say you cain’t take us?”

  Adam shook his head. “Afraid not.”

  The other one nudged his friend in the ribs. “You lucked out, boy!” He looked at Adam and jerked his thumb back at his friend. “Scared of needles.”

  His friend’s face morphed with offense. “Am not!”

  “Are too!”

  Ribbing devolved into pushing. Dumb sent Dumber flying into the chairs lining the wall. Dumber scrambled to his feet and rushed headlong into his friend. John Deere hats and meaty fists were flying every which way.

  Jeanette hefted the stapler in her hand, ready to cr
ack a skull if they got too close.

  Jonah quite liked her.

  He rolled his eyes at Adam before turning and disappearing into his own workroom. He picked up a wicked-looking steel needle and made it dance between his fingers.

  He liked his job, too.

  Turning, he headed back out to the lobby where Dumb and Dumber were now wrestling on the tile floor.

  “Hey!” Jonah bellowed. The sound of his deep voice nearly rattled the windows.

  Both men paused and glanced up at him.

  Jonah lifted the needle and rolled it between his fingers. “I’ve kind of always wondered what happens when you stick one of these bad boys in someone’s eyeball.”

  They dropped each other immediately and staggered to their feet. “You’re not serious,” one of them drawled.

  Jonah threw back his head and laughed, but even he was aware that laughter, for him, was a sharp-edged thing. “You’re right,” he said, grinning at them. “I know exactly what it’s like to stick one of these in someone’s eye.”

  They looked at each other, then at Adam, who grimaced. Apparently not willing to find out the truth, they both turned and made for the front door. Jonah watched them go, keeping one eye on the door in case one of them got any ideas about coming back with a gun or a baseball bat.

  Adam sighed and rubbed his hands on his jeans. “I can never tell if you’re joking.”

  Jonah took his eyes away from the window and turned them on his oldest brother. He kept his features carefully schooled when he spoke. “Maybe,” he replied, “that’s because I never am.”

  “Well, if they come back, don’t maim them,” Adam advised.

  Jonah nodded. “I’d rather not end up in jail tonight, if I can help it.”

  Adam chuckled. “Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve managed to avoid it for all these years.”

  Jonah paused and then ran the needle over the tips of his fingers. “So am I,” he said truthfully.

  A flash of movement caught his eye and Jonah’s hand tensed on the needle. But instead of the two idiots from moments ago, a redheaded woman passed by the picture window.

  Jonah noticed Adam’s grin as he watched her.

  “Friend of yours?” he asked Adam.

  Adam nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I know her. She’s got a tattoo on her ass. Big as Texas.”

  Jonah observed her through the clear glass of the shop’s front. “Texas, huh?”

  “Speak of the devil,” Adam replied, pointing with his chin.

  From the left, following the redhead, Jonah actually recognized the tall, blond man coming into view. His strides were long and powerful and he caught up to the woman in time to open the door for her.

  She smiled at him with dazzling white teeth and ruby red lips as she ducked under his arm. She wasn’t what Jonah was after, but he could still appreciate the fact that she was fucking gorgeous. She had on black leather boots that made her nearly as tall as the man she was with. Tight jeans hugged curvy hips and though her silk blouse fit a little more loosely, the view of her cleavage was the cherry on top of this cherry, for sure.

  Jonah didn’t know the redhead, but he knew Tex Marsten as well as he knew anyone, he supposed. Which was to say they nodded at each other whenever they crossed paths around town.

  “Thanks for working us in,” Tex drawled.

  Adam nodded. “Not a problem. Any time.”

  Tex approached Adam first, shaking his hand. Then he turned, grinned at Jonah, and extended his hand again. His grip was strong and powerful, as expected of a man like him. Jonah appreciated the fact that he didn’t feel it necessary to squeeze too hard. No one liked a showoff or a man who lacked confidence. And Adam would frown on Jonah breaking customers’ hands.

  At six-foot-five, Jonah was an inch or two taller than the man standing before him. Hours at the gym had given Jonah more muscle definition as well. Despite the slight advantage, though, Jonah knew enough to know that if it came down to more than a handshake, Tex would give him a run for his money.

  The ‘former’ in ‘former Army Ranger’ was just a matter of paperwork.

  “I made the appointment for Abby,” he said, nodding toward the woman. “I want her nipples pierced but not by just anyone. Adam said he couldn’t do it but that you could. I don’t know you, really, but the Stark name carries a lot of weight in this town,” Tex told Jonah, and Adam, by default. “I trust you, but I wanted to check you out first. And pick out what I want her to have.”

  Jonah nodded, understanding the sentiment. Letting a stranger near your body with sharp objects was a risky proposition even under the best of circumstances. Jonah did his own piercings for exactly that reason. And a few other reasons as well.

  “I want the best,” Tex told him, but he didn’t take out his wallet and wave a wad of cash around like an asshole. He wasn’t loud; he wasn’t flashy; he just wanted what he wanted and Jonah could tell he was used to getting it. “I’ll be attaching weights,” he added.

  Jonah’s eyes skipped to Abby and she blushed deeply but didn’t argue the fact. He silently checked with Adam, who simply nodded, giving his tacit approval. Convinced that Abby was safe in her lover’s hands, Jonah reached into the display case and pulled out a velvet box that housed 22K-gold rings.

  He watched Tex look over the rings, inspecting them thoroughly. Jonah felt respect for the man as he took his time, the way Jonah himself would do—had done—for the woman that was his. When you had the most precious girl in the world, you gave her the most precious things in the world, because doing anything else cheapened the whole relationship.

  “Those are perfect,” Tex declared as Jeannie passed Abby the waiver and a pen.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Jonah told them both and disappeared into his workroom.

  Seconds later, they followed him in.

  He laid out the piercing tools and supplies on his mobile tray. As he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, he called out to Abby, “I can get you a plastic cover if—” When he looked up, Abby had already unbuttoned her blouse and was sliding it off over her arms.

  She handed it to Tex, who grinned at Jonah. “We’re fine. We’ve got no problem with public nudity, do we?”

  Abby gave him a playful glare and reached behind herself to unhook her black satin bra. She draped it over Tex’s arm, alongside her blouse. Tex didn’t look at all ruffled to be holding his woman’s delicates.

  Jonah approached her, pen in hand, and said, “Put your arms behind your back.”

  Abby’s back arched and her breasts stood out prominently before him.

  He carefully marked each nipple with the pen and then stepped back and checked the symmetry. Satisfied that the piercings would be even, he returned to the tray and pointed to the chair. “Go ahead and lie down,” he told her.

  Abby lowered herself gracefully into the leather seat and fanned out her red hair.

  As Jonah adjusted his grip on the tweezers, Tex leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Just breathe, pet. Just breathe.”

  Jonah’s hands were rock steady—he was a professional, after all—but if he’d been holding anything other than a pair of tweezers, he might have hesitated.

  Pet?

  He’d heard a lot of things over the last year, which was par for the course working at a tattoo parlor, he supposed. ‘Pet’ was new, though.

  Peering at Abby, she didn’t seem upset by it. If anything, Jonah was certain her nipples had gotten harder in response.

  Jonah shrugged mentally and brought up the tweezers again. Everyone was entitled to their own thing, as long as it was legal. He couldn’t deny that he wished Sienna would respond to him like that, though, to flush every time he spoke to her.

  Sienna wasn’t a pet, though. If anything, Jonah was hers. He’d fight like hell—did fight like hell—to give her anything she wanted, everything she deserved.

  With steady hands, he lined the needle up with the oval on the tip of the tweezers and advanced it until a drop of blood
welled up.

  Abby sucked in a breath but otherwise didn’t move. She was definitely a trouper, this one. Within seconds, Jonah had the ring in place and clamped it closed with his gloved fingers. Before she had much of a chance to react, he moved to the other breast, captured the nipple, and repeated the process.

  When he was finished, he swabbed the skin again with disinfectant and handed her two large Band-Aids.

  Though she didn’t seem shy with her body and Tex didn’t seem to mind another man’s presence in the room, Jonah discreetly turned to his tray to gather and clean his tools to give Abby some privacy as she bandaged her piercings and put on her shirt.

  While she was dressing, Tex came up beside Jonah and offered him a warm smile—and a folded bill.

  Jonah pocketed the tip with a grateful nod and gestured toward the open door of the workroom. “Jeannie has everything you need,” he said, “for the aftercare.”

  Tex thanked him again and guided Abby back out to the lobby with a strong hand on her lower back. They both seemed happy.

  Jonah finished cleaning his space and heard the bell overhead signify their departure. Seconds later it rang again, and he knew his workday had officially started.

  Work was steady until midnight when Jonah was officially done with his shift. He laid a cloth over his tray and snapped off his latest pair of blue latex gloves. He tossed them across the room, straight into the garbage, and headed back out to the lobby.

  Adam stepped in from the street, having walked Jeannie to her car, as usual. He turned the key in the lock with a sharp click. “Want to grab a beer at Maria’s?” he asked.

  Jonah shook his head and pulled on his leather jacket. “Nope. Can’t. Got somewhere to be.”

  Sometimes Adam let it go. Other times curiosity got the better of him. Clearly, tonight was the latter. “Tell me the truth, Jonah. Do you secretly fight crime at night?

  Jonah grinned at his older brother. “Nah. I don’t fight crime. I commit it.” He turned and headed down the hallway toward the back door.