Black Sheep

by Tabatha Vargo

  “I’ll sleep on the couch if this makes you uncomfortable.” She sniffed.

  “No. I’ll take the couch. You can take the bed.”

  She leaned up and wiped at her eyes. “I’m not taking your bed. That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”

  Catching a strand of her blond hair, I smoothed it between my fingers. “You could always sleep in my bed with me,” I suggested.

  The moment went still, and I felt nervous that she’d turn that option down. I couldn’t even believe I’d suggested it since I was still unsure of what she was feeling after our night together.

  Her smile was soft when she looked up at me, and my anxiety melted away. She had that capability now that she truly owned me. I’d always been hers, but during our night together, she’d claimed me completely.

  That night, Nicole fell asleep in my arms again. There was no sex. There was no touching. There wasn’t even a single kiss. Holding her was enough. Being near her even just the tiniest bit had always been enough.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I left for work without waking Nicole, but before I did, I stood in the doorway of my room and enjoyed the sight of her in my bed. She was wearing one of my T-shirts and a pair of my boxers, which was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

  Briefly, as I stood here looking at the woman I’d always wanted, I thought maybe we could work. If I could keep my head together and let go of my past, this thing we were starting didn’t have to feel so forbidden—it didn’t have to make me feel like I was doing something wrong.

  I could be good for her if I tried hard enough.

  Maybe she was good for me.

  She lit up my soul and my heart. Maybe she could scare away my demons, and we could be together.

  I sang along with the radio on the way to the garage, and then I sang along to the radio inside the garage while I was under the hood of the truck. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

  “Dude, have mercy on us,” Nate joked. “You sing like shit.”

  I laughed from under the truck, my laughter echoing off the engine parts and rushing back into my face. I smiled at feeling so free. I hadn’t felt this kind of peace in a long while.

  It was the strangest thing. I’d recently lost my parents, and I was grieving for them, but at the same time, I’d never felt more alive and happy. In my mind and my fucked-up way of thinking, those happy feelings during such a terrible time of grief were just another reason for me to feel guilty about the things I’d done with Nicole.

  After the garage, I cleaned up and drove over to The Blind Tiger to lay down some ink. Nate showed up a few minutes after me, and this time, his girlfriend, Stacey, was with him. She didn’t usually show up, but it was nice when she did, mostly because she spent the time cleaning up the front area of the shop. We weren’t much for cleaning.

  My first customer of the night was a middle-aged lady who wanted a ladybug on her foot. It was a thirty-minute tattoo and took next to no skill. A young boy who wanted a tiger paw followed her. Two hours and he was out of my chair.

  I was cleaning my station and prepping for maybe leaving early for the night when Nate called my name from the front of the shop.

  “What’s up?” I asked as I came around the corner.

  “Customer,” he answered, pointing across the room. “Can you take him? I’m already booked.”

  My eyes followed where Nate was pointing and sitting on the couch in the corner was an older man. He looked like a biker. He was wearing a leather cut over a plaid button-up shirt, ratty jeans with holed-out knees, and boots. He cracked his neck, and my eyes dipped over his skin, taking stock of the art that crawled up the sides of his neck.

  He stood and worked his shoulders before starting across the room toward me. Unbuttoning the fabric around his wrist, he began rolling up the sleeve on his right arm. His boots scuffed across the floor like he’d been drinking, and his eyes were glazed.

  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about the man was familiar. His lazy strut made me uncomfortable, but when he looked up at me and grinned, his smile was even worse. It felt off and forced, like he wasn’t used to smiling much.

  “Come on back,” I said, starting toward my station. “Do you already know what you want?” I asked over my shoulder.

  I tried to stay focused on the task at hand instead of letting my mind run away with a bunch of crazy bullshit.

  “Yes.” His voice was gritty and strained, like a man who’d lived a rough life.

  Once we were in my space, I turned around and got a good look at him under the bright lighting of my station, and I could tell he’d definitely had a hard time. His skin was leathery, which meant he was going to be hell to tattoo, and his hair was graying. He’d been ridden hard and hung out wet, but still, he smiled and took a seat in my chair.

  Again, his smile made me uncomfortable, but I shook it off and took the seat beside him.

  “So what are you thinking?” I asked, prepping my area and getting ready to tattoo him.

  “I want to get my woman’s name on my arm,” he said, setting his arm up on the table between us.

  He flattened his hand on the table allowing me to see the many tattoos decorating his arm. My eyes moved over his skin, taking in the old faded ink from years past, until they settled on his fingers.

  Everything stopped.

  His long, hairy fingers sent my memories reeling. The breath caught in my lungs, and nausea settled in the pit my stomach.

  He had needles tattooed onto his fingers—green and discolored—the points with drips of blood.

  And I knew … I just fucking knew … he was the demon from my nightmares—the reason I rarely slept—the reason I wasn’t worthy of Nicole.

  I stood, my chair flying across the room, and I backed away from him. Anger ripped through me, and I felt myself losing grip with reality. My fists squeezed at my sides, and I breathed hard as I tried to calm myself.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning me, making me feel like I was eleven years old all over again and he was seconds away from tying me to a bed and torturing me.

  Then a grin pulled at the side of his mouth, and he said, “I know you, don’t I?”

  Words were lost on me. I was feeling actual fear, which didn’t make sense to me since I could’ve easily killed him with my bare hands. I was taller, younger, stronger, and I had anger on my side. But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was scared to death.

  I just stood there like I was a kid again, perched in the corner in fear as I waited. My heart slammed against my ribs, and oxygen wasn’t making it into my lungs. I was suffocating, yet I was hyperventilating at the same time.

  “You’re Frank’s boy.” He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I definitely remember you.” He sucked at his teeth.

  His words shook me.

  I hadn’t heard my father’s name in a long time, and the way he was looking at me and licking his lips made everything inside me shut down. Memories and darkness consumed me, working their way up my legs and over my chest until I was drowning in their depths. I choked on the air I tried to suck in, but nothing was working.

  The barriers burst, and I snapped.

  I lost all control of myself. Yanking him from the chair, I grabbed him by the collar and brought my fist down hard against his face.

  “You little shit!” he yelled.

  He struggled to fight back, his arms coming up and his hands trying to go around my neck, but I didn’t let up.

  All I saw was red.

  All I smelled was the urine-stained mattress.

  All I felt was pain.

  My fists flew, each hit to his flesh more satisfying than the next. I hit him over and over again, not stopping even after he quit fighting back. His blood flew, splattering the space around us and landing on my clothes and my skin.

  “What the fuck?” I heard Nate yell behind me. “Stop, Tyson, you’re going to kill him!”

  I felt him latch onto me and try to pull me off, but I
threw him and continued to beat the man who’d ruined me.

  “Gill! Fucking help me, man!” Nate was screaming behind me.

  Again, he latched onto me and pulled, but this time, when I tried to throw him off, he held tight, pulling me from the man and throwing me across the room.

  I slammed against the wall, and my wide eyes took in the mess around me.

  The man was on the floor, blood flowing from his face, but he was out cold. I couldn’t even tell if he was still alive.

  Nate stared back at me as if he’d never seen me before. And then Gill stepped in and did the same.

  I couldn’t take their stares, and I knew they’d have to call the police soon. I’d have to give explanations and or go to jail.

  I’d ruined everything, just like I always did. My earlier thoughts of a possible future with Nicole slammed into my brain, feeling as though someone had just shoved my face into a brick wall.

  I grabbed my head, trying to shake everything out of it, but I couldn’t clear my mind. There was so much going on all at once, and I wasn’t handling it well.

  I needed to get out of there.

  For fresh air.

  To feel whole again.

  I needed my light to rid myself of all the shadows threatening to kill me.

  I flew past Nate and Gill and toward the exit of The Blind Tiger, and I did so with only one thought on my mind.

  The demons had taken over. The black had returned, making me even worse than I was before, and I wouldn’t be able to make it stop until I was with Nicole and her hands were on me calming me down.

  I jumped in my car, the engine coming to life, and I drove over the speed limit through town and straight to Nicole.

  If I killed him, which I was hoping I did, I’d be going to prison for a long time. And if that was going to happen, then I wanted one last night with the woman I loved.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Nicole

  A DECISION WAS made the moment I walked into the house after leaving Tyson’s apartment.

  I needed to sell the house.

  Brian was having issues staying there.

  I was having issues staying there.

  We hadn’t even entered Mom and Dad’s room yet.

  Not to mention, I couldn’t afford the maintenance on the place. The bills were piling up, and I knew it wasn’t going to be long before I was drowning even deeper in the crazy.

  I’d figured out that Tyson was doing the lawn care, which I’d had to put a stop to. It also meant, either I’d have to deal with the acre the house was on, or I’d have to pay someone to do it for me, which I couldn’t afford.

  Either way I looked at it, the house needed to go. It was sad since we had so many amazing memories there, but I felt like the bad memories were holding us back—weighing us down—keeping us in a miserable state of grief.

  I sat at the kitchen table and waited for Brian to come home from school. He tossed his backpack on the table as soon as he got home.

  “Hey,” he said, out of breath from the walk from the bus stop. “What’s up with you? You look funny.”

  He turned away and dug through the refrigerator for an afterschool snack.

  “I’m okay, but I do want to talk to you about something.”

  I was nervous.

  What if Brian thought I was disrespecting Mom and Dad’s memory by selling their house?

  What if he freaked out on me about it?

  Brian and Tyson were all I had left in the world. I didn’t want either of them pulling away from me.

  Grabbing a bag of chips and a soda, he set everything on the table across from me and sat down.

  “Okay, what’s up?” he said around a mouthful of chips.

  My eyes scanned his young face. He was basically the perfect mix of Mom and Dad. As long as I had him in my life, I’d always have them.

  Swallowing my nerves, I picked at my nails.

  “What do you think about selling the house?”

  His eyes went wide with my words, and he stopped chewing. “Are you serious?”

  Biting my bottom lip, I nodded.

  “It’s just, neither of us likes to stay here,” I started to explain. “We can’t even go in Mom and Dad’s room. Honestly, this place is kind of expensive to keep up. I start a job Thursday, but I worry it won’t be enough to cover everything.”

  I swallowed again, afraid to keep going. “I don’t know. I think maybe we’d do better in a smaller place. What do you think?”

  He swallowed his food and took a sip of his soda.

  “Honestly?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Yes! Honestly. I want to know how you feel about this. I don’t want you to hate me, Brian, but I just don’t know if we can cut it.”

  He nodded and swiped at his nose.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” he said, shocking me. “I hate it here now. I mean, I love it because it was our home, but it doesn’t really feel like a home without Mom and Dad. I never want to be here because well … they’re not here.”

  Tears rushed to my eyes, and I stood from the table to go to him. We hugged, and I smiled through my tears a bit realizing my little brother had really grown up over the last few weeks.

  It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, losing his parents, but I was proud of him and the maturity he was showing.

  “Then it’s settled.” I sniffed. “I’ll call a realtor tomorrow.”

  THAT NIGHT, WE had hotdogs and french fries for dinner. And once Brian had his homework done, he played Xbox until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. I wasn’t much for enforcing a bedtime since he wasn’t having any issues getting up for school in the morning, but the minute that became a problem, things would change.

  I stayed up later than usual, looking for different realtors and getting an idea of house prices, but soon, my eyes were fluttering closed, and I knew I needed to get some sleep, as well.

  I climbed from Dad’s recliner and turned off the lamp beside me. As soon as the lamp turned off, I heard the front door open and close.

  Smiling, I moved toward the foyer. Only Tyson ever came in without knocking, and I was glad he was there. I was already dreading sleeping in my bed alone. We’d only spent the night together twice, but I was getting used to him being there—holding me—making me feel safe and secure in his arms.

  “Hey, you,” I said, taking the corner and expecting his smiling face, but that wasn’t what I got.

  Instead, Tyson was standing there, and he looked terrible. Dried blood splattered across his face and shirt, his hair looked as if he’d been pulling on it, and his knuckles were busted.

  “Oh my God, what happened?” I asked.

  He didn’t respond.

  He marched across the foyer, his heavy boots echoing across the hardwood floors, and he pulled me into his arms. Burying his face in my neck, he breathed deep.

  I held him to me as he shook, his entire body quaking.

  “I think I killed him,” he said into the side of my neck. “I’m pretty sure I killed him.”

  Pulling back, I cupped his cheeks and forced him to look me in the eye. “We talked about this. You did what you had to do. I don’t care about your past, Tyson, I only care about you.”

  He shook his head, his wide, unblinking eyes full of dread. He looked as if he were in shock.

  “No … Needles. I think I killed Needles.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but I grabbed his hand and took him upstairs to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind us, I took him in under the bright lights of the room.

  His dark skin was pale and pasty, his pulse shaking the side of his neck with his racing heart.

  “I don’t understand. Who’s Needles?”

  He stared at the space above my head and didn’t even flinch as I started to peel his ruined shirt from his body.

  “He’s the one who hurt me. The things he did to me …” He stopped.

  His body folded in, and he wrapped his arms around my waist.

&
nbsp; “Shhh,” I soothed. “It’s okay. I’m here,” I whispered.

  My mind went back to the night when Tyson confessed he’d killed his father. I thought about the things he’d said. I thought about him telling me about his father’s dealer and how he’d used Tyson for payment.

  I didn’t ask any more questions as I peeled the rest of his clothes from his body and turned the shower on for him. He didn’t stop me as I tugged his jeans and boxers off, not caring that I could see his scars clearly in the bathroom lighting.

  “The police should be here soon,” he said in a daze. Then he looked me in the eyes and cupped my cheeks. “I just wanted to see you one more time. I needed to get to you before they came and took me away.”

  Gripping his busted hands with my own, I placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m here. I’ll never leave you. We’ll get through this together.”

  Stripping, I climbed into the shower behind him, and he stood with his head down as I soaped his body and washed away the remnants of another man’s blood.

  The water gathered around our feet, tinted red, before escaping down the drain.

  I washed his hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying my fingers on his scalp. When I was done, he leaned his head back and rinsed the shampoo from his hair. While he was doing that, I let my eyes wander, taking in his beautiful body and the dips and cuts of his muscles.

  My eyes moved over the tattoos, taking in the colors and swirls until I was at his navel. I followed the trail of dark hair there, moving lower until I was finally getting a look at the parts of him that were always hidden.

  He was large and beautiful, and I wondered how he was able to put something so huge inside me. Then he started to get hard before my eyes. The more I stared, the harder it became.

  I looked up to find him staring back at me.

  “I like the way you look at me,” he said.

  Water was running down his face, dripping from his plump lips and begging me to lick it off.

  “How do I look at you?” My voice was raspy and deep.

  He moved closer, pulling me to his body, our slick, wet skin sliding against each other.