Inked Souls (The Shaw Effect Duet)

by Lucia Grace

  Turning the attention off of me, I ask quietly. “Tell me about them?”

  Rhett hesitates for a moment before nodding slightly. He heaves a deep breath before he starts.

  “My parents were what all kids hope to have. Loving. Supportive. Hardworking and always there. We didn’t have much in way of material things, but we had a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, food in our bellies, and a shit ton of love.”

  The reverence in his tone makes me smile but also causes my heart to ache. And not because he’s talking about something I’ve never had, but because he lost it so suddenly and much too soon.

  “Then one day I’m getting pulled from class to be told by a local police officer in the principal’s office that both my parents are gone.”

  My right hand finds his thigh, trying to offer comfort, while my left lifts to cover my mouth. Saylor said her parents passed, and I knew it had to be tragic since they lost them both, but I’m afraid I’m not prepared to learn of how it happened.

  “I remember how matter of fact he was. Little compassion and comfort in how he told me my parents had been in a car accident that stole both their lives. Like just because I was a twelve-year-old boy, I should understand that these things happen and just move on. But that’s just it; I was a boy who had just been told his world had been ripped to shreds and he’d never see his parents again.”

  The agony and pain tearing through his words leave me breathless as I listen on. Tears welling and falling down both of our cheeks. I don’t even think he’s realized he’s crying.

  “A couple times a week my dad would leave the auto body shop where he worked as a mechanic to pick my mom up for lunch from the local library where she worked. On their way back from the diner, an elderly man had a heart attack behind the wheel of his car and lost control. He slammed right into them, head on.”

  Unable to contain it, I gasp behind the hand still covering my mouth. At some point, one of Rhett’s hands had found its way to mine on his thigh, and it tightens at my reaction.

  “Gosh, Rhett. I am so, so sorry, honey.”

  His eyes whip to mine at the endearment I let slip. At the moment though, I don’t let myself care because he needs that comfort. I can feel it.

  “I can’t even imagine having something so good and then…losing it.” My eyes close at my own words. Realizing how insensitive they must have sounded.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “No,” he says gruffly. “It’s okay.”

  Before I can say another word, he keeps going. “After that, we were forced to move in with our great-aunt Ruth. And pardon my language, but that bitch could have cared less. Only wanting us for the money that came with us.” He shakes his head in disgust.

  “Did she…” I can’t even bring myself to ask if she hurt them physically. I don’t think I could stomach it if she did.

  “Hurt us? Not physically. She just didn’t fucking care. Too busy smoking two packs a day, wasting away the small amount of insurance money on bingo and scratch tickets. She was a single woman in her late sixties. Bitter. Ugly. Hateful. We didn’t even know about her until Ma and Pop died. She acted as if we didn’t exist. So from the age of twelve, I took over taking care of Say and myself. Got a part-time job at some rundown fast food joint after school and on weekends. Lying and saying I was fifteen to get the job. Then after a few months, the owner realized I lied and fired my ass. Thank God for Gus, though. He took one look at my sorry ass when I walked into In Ruins, just barely thirteen, and despite breaking the law and risking hiring me, he did it anyway. I’ve been indebted to him ever since.”

  I may not have known Rhett long, but the puzzle pieces are beginning to fit together, making me understand him a whole lot better.

  “It seems like we’re more alike than I initially thought, Rhett.”

  He nods his head. “Been thinking that since day one, angel. Could feel it.”

  “You wear your scars on the outside, in pictures and words tattooed on your skin. While I carry mine right here.” I place my hand to my chest, over my heart. “On the inside, in my heart.”

  His brown eyes sadden even further as his brows furrow and his frown deepens. Knowing I hit the mark, that the ink covering his body holds memories of his past.

  For a few moments we sit there together, silently taking in the other. I can’t read his expression, and I’m wondering if he can tell mine. If he can see how thankful I am for tonight, for not only the date, but how he opened up to me and allowed me to open up as well, without judgement.

  I’m thankful that the man I chose to let in is him.

  “Give me a truth,” he all of a sudden whispers. His voice deep and gruff. His eyes rich and sincere.

  I take the time to think over his words before answering, hesitantly and quietly. “You make me more nervous, yet more excited, than I’ve ever been.”

  He doesn’t react, at least not outwardly for me to see. He just sits there next to me, dark eyes never leaving me.

  As he takes me in, I turn his words on him. “What about your truth?”

  Barely letting a second pass by, his deep voice rasps out, “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you.”

  My heart free falls right then. Into a tailspin of anxiousness and excitement and what in the world am I doing. But I can’t stop it; I can only hope my crash landing doesn’t obliterate me as much as I fear it will.

  Silence descends around us yet again, hanging with our every word, until Rhett finally speaks.

  “I don’t want to, but I should probably go.”

  I look over to him and nod my head. “May be a good idea.” Because I can feel the tension between us rising. Especially after the truths we just revealed.

  When we make it to the door, he looks at me like he wants to kiss me.

  Stepping up to me, one large hand lifts to lay against the side of my neck so his thumb can lift my chin ever so slightly. Then, without hesitation, he leans down to gently place his lips against mine, kissing me. A soft and tender kiss, so simple, yet meaning so much.

  He never takes it deeper, just repeats the action three more times, before leaning his forehead to mine. As if needing to gain some control.

  When he pulls away, I don’t realize my eyes closed until I’m opening them to see him staring at my face, tracing my features.

  “I need you to know I want this with you. I do, Rhett. But I can’t…I can’t make all the mistakes I’ve always made. I can’t rush into falling for you. My heart wouldn’t survive it if something happened and we didn’t work out.”

  His thumb gently strokes along the front of my throat. “If you need time, that’s fine. Time I can give you. I just need a chance, angel. A chance to show you that being mine would be a hell of a lot better than it ever was being theirs. That I’ll cherish the goddamn ground you walk on.”

  His words pierce my soul, make my heart hope for things it’s always wished for. “But that’s just the thing, I was never theirs. Not like I needed to be.”

  His large, tattooed hands cradle my face gently—tenderly—bringing my forehead to his yet again. “Then let me be all you need, angel.”

  “FEVER” BY THE BLACK KEYS almost rattles the windows it’s playing so loudly through the shop while I prep for the appointments we have tonight. Per usual, Nash’s giant-ass head is bobbing to the beat, the man-bun affixed to his skull following along.

  Every now and then I can feel his eyes drilling in to me, but whenever I look up, he gets back to whatever the fuck he’s doing.

  “Got something to say, man?” I finally ask. Not one to play games.

  “Should be asking you that, brother. Seems to me like you’re holding out on me.”

  My brows drop in confusion until I look up again to see a smirk on his face. Then it clicks.

  Fucker knows about my date last night.

  Fucking Saylor.

  The shop’s closed Sundays. Only day of the week we aren’t open for inking skin. At first we were op
en seven days a week, but I quickly realized we not only needed a day to make sure day-to-day shit was handled here at the shop, but we also needed a whole day off for us. On more than one occasion, both of us have had to stop mid-session due to our hands cramping, which had us realizing right quick that we couldn’t go on like we were or we’d lose business.

  So us not touching base Sunday isn’t anything new. We usually regroup on Mondays. Which means he wouldn’t have known about my date with Kennedy until I told him.

  Or Saylor did.

  “A date, man. Never thought I’d see the day Rhett Shaw would cave and cater to a woman. Taking her out, winin’ and dinin’ her. Daaaaamn.” He shakes his head, chuckle dying down with his next words. “‘Bout damn time though, man. That’s all I’ve gotta say.” His head bobs in a nod as a big-ass grin stretches his face. Not only ‘cause I finally made my move on Kennedy, but also because I actually went on a date. A first for me as he knows.

  His eyes hold something more than mirth though. Happiness. For me.

  “The fuck, we women now? Gossiping?” I joke. Trying to lighten the moment back to our usual banter.

  “What?” Nash asks incredulously. “Can’t a man ask his best friend about his first date?”

  Best friend.

  That term has me coming up short, though Nash’s tone is back to joking.

  Ever since I was able to save up enough cash five years ago for a down payment to buy and open Inked Souls, Nash has been by my side. He worked alongside the original owner of the shop before I bought it and changed its name. The one condition for the old man was that I keep his grandson employed since he just finished his apprenticeship and was damn good. He was, and that grandson turned out to be Nash.

  At the time I was a twenty-two-year-old asshole who only cared about inking skin, tappin’ ass, and Saylor and Gus. Before that, I realized years ago that it wasn’t worth putting stock in anything. Wasn’t worth forming connections because people either left you or didn’t turn out to be what you hoped for. So keeping my circle to two and bagging as many women as I could was my life’s motto.

  Now I’m a twenty-eight-year-old asshole who’s just finally realizing there’s more to life than chasing tail and one-night stands. That not only do I have Saylor and Gus in my life, though it took Gus years to break through, but Nash is there, too. And I have Kennedy to thank for it. Because that beautiful angel turned my life on its axis just a couple short weeks ago and has left me twisted ever since.

  His question has my mind reeling, but not just for me. Thinking back to last night and everything Kennedy told me, everything she shared and revealed. If I could turn back the hands of fucking time, I’d have been there for her, protecting and saving her. I know it sounds fucking insane, that it’s damn impossible, but I can’t help that’s how I feel. That I wish she never felt an ounce of pain, of hurt, that she never felt alone and abandoned.

  I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.

  And to know she felt it her entire life and not just five years like Saylor and I did when we were forced to live with our great-aunt tears me up. But that’s just it. As much as I let the loss of my parents lead my decisions in life, I was never truly alone. Because I always had Saylor.

  Kennedy wasn’t so lucky.

  “You good, man? You just checked out there for a second.” Nash’s voice breaks through my spinning thoughts.

  Clearing my throat, I nod once. “Yeah. All set.”

  He sets me with a look, both hard and concerned, but lets it go.

  “It’s just, Kennedy…she’s something I never expected, but all I can think about. Scares the fuck outta me is what she does, because I’ve spent the last sixteen years like I thought I’d live the rest of my life, different chick every night without letting anyone in.”

  He nods his head in understanding, knowing my plans of being a bachelor for life.

  “Then Kennedy, like a goddamn angel dropped from heaven, slams into my life and there ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do. Nothin’,” I say with a slight shake of my head.

  Nash sits there, quietly contemplating, like me, then before either of us can say another word, Saylor waltzes her leather-pant-wearing self into the shop as if she owns the place. The black In Ruins work tank cut lower than intended.

  I shake my head and myself from the heavy, and almost roll my eyes, while Nash’s track her every move. Our discussion completely forgotten now that my sister’s in the vicinity.

  “Yo, asshole, I’m sitting right here.” I grunt. “Pop your fuckin’ eyes back into their sockets.”

  Saylor giggles and adds an extra swing to the last few steps she takes toward us before stopping at my station and leaning a hip against the desk top.

  “Can’t blame a man for appreciating fine craftsmanship, my man.” Nash’s tongue practically hangs from his mouth as a huge, tattooed hand rubs the beard on his chin.

  “Yeah, well, my man,” I emphasize to get his attention. “Appreciate it with a little less gusto.”

  The more I see these two together, the more I’m thinking there’s something going on that I don’t know about. I sure as hell hope they’d be smart enough to let me in on their plans being the big brother and best friend in this equation. But with Saylor, she could talk a nun into changing ways, so who the fuck knows what’s going on.

  “Oh boys,” Saylor sighs with a touch of sass and a cluck of her tongue.

  “Don’t oh boys me, Say. You damn well know what you’re doin’. Your shirt rip or somethin’?” I ask as I wave a hand to gesture to her top that had Nash ‘bout near falling out of his seat.

  Looking down at her chest and torn top, she then looks back up to me with a roll of her eyes. “Tone it down a notch, big brother. Your caveman is showing.”

  Nash booms a quick laugh while I mutter a few choice words, but let it go. There’s no winning with her.

  “There a reason you’re here, little sister?”

  “Oh, don’t get all pissy on me, Rhett. This is how I always dress, and you know it.”

  I don’t respond, just blink at her, waiting on her to continue. Thankfully, she does.

  “Anywho, I did stop by for a reason. And she’s got long, honey-brown hair, pale green eyes, and a smile she can’t wipe off her face. Know anything about that, big brother?”

  My heart rate picks up. Kennedy.

  And she’s smiling. And from what Saylor’s insinuating it’s because of me.

  “Could it be because of that date you took her on last night? Or is it the bunch of wildflowers you had delivered to the bar at the start of her shift?” One of Saylor’s hands rests on her cocked hip, while the other taps her long, painted nails on my desk she’s still leaning on.

  Her smile can’t be contained, and it’s got me wondering if Kennedy’s can be either…

  “Say what now? A date and flowers? Brother, who the fuck are you and what have you done with the Rhett Shaw I know?” Nash winks as he finishes ribbing me. Because it’s just that, jokes and good fun, because after our talk just moments ago I know he gets how serious I am about Kennedy.

  “Hush you,” Saylor scolds him. “You could take a lesson or two from my brother here.”

  Nash mutters under his breath, something I swear sounded a lot like her not complaining about him the other night. And if I wasn’t so wrapped up in finding out more about my girl, I’d have questioned it. But it’s their lucky day, ‘cause I don’t.

  “She’s smilin’, huh?” I mutter to myself, but Saylor hears and her face softens.

  “Can’t contain it, big brother. It’s either soft and tender, like she can’t stop thinking of you, or blinding and downright stunning. Gus can’t help but keep asking if she’s okay while the girls can’t help but gush and swoon. She’s tightlipped with them, but when I got home last night, as soon as I asked, she couldn’t help but go on about how she had such an amazing time. And that’s unlike her, as you know she’s pretty quiet and to herself. But last night, she couldn’t co
ntain that either. Then add in walking into her shift and seeing the flowers delivered for her. Well, you could knock her over with a feather; she’s on cloud nine.”

  My chest puffs with pride, knowing I made her happy, that I can make her smile.

  Give me a truth.

  You make me more nervous, yet more excited, than I’ve ever been.

  Yeah…feeling’s mutual, angel.

  MY FINGERS GENTLY GLIDE ALONG the soft white, lavender, and pale pink petals. The bouquet in a decorative vase I bought at a nearby antique store on a side table next to the couch. I sit there, leaning against the arm, daydreaming. Because a guy sent me flowers and my heart just can’t handle it.

  It’s been a few days, but I can’t help but fixate on the delicate wildflowers sitting so prettily in the room.

  I look down at my phone in my lap, seeing Rhett has yet to read the last text I sent him.

  It’s late. Saylor and I both managed to snag the same night off—something rare for her in general because that girl doesn’t like to leave her bar. But when Rhett texted ten minutes ago letting me know he was closing up shop and heading home, I expected to hear from him by now to either let me know he was home or was heading that way.

  But so far, nothing.

  I don’t let myself worry, knowing he probably got held up doing something. Or possibly forgot me…

  Popcorn pops in the background, Hope Floats sits on pause on the TV, while Saylor busies herself getting snacks ready in the kitchen. She deemed tonight girls’ night. A movie, food, girl talk. The works. Something I’ve never had before but was glad to do.

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you, doll?”

  My hand stills, and I look over to see her walk in. “No one’s ever sent me flowers before.”

  When she sets the tray she was carrying down on the coffee table, I see it’s full of chocolate and gummies and a giant bowl of buttery popcorn.

  “Come to think of it, no one’s sent me any either.” She plays a pout.

  “Not even Nash McKinley?” I bump her with my shoulder since we’re now sitting side by side.