Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3)

by Cat Mason

  “My entire life is uncomfortable,” he laughs, shaking his head.

  “Well, welcome to reality, sweetheart. Life is a ride. Just because we don’t get a nice padded seat doesn’t give you an excuse to jump off the bike.”

  “I’m still on the goddamn bike.” Closing the distance between us, he yanks me into his chest. His eyes blaze, making my heart beat faster. The heat of his fingers burn into my skin as he grips the back of my neck. His thumb brushes over my pulse point. My lips part, I am frozen again, unable to do anything other than wait on his next move. “I’m strapped in, headed straight for the wall, and there’s no escaping the crash. For either of us.”

  His lips crush mine possessively. Catching my bottom lips between his teeth, he growls low in his throat. My stomach flips, every nerve ending on body greedily anticipates his touch. Gripping his biceps, I dig my nails in, hanging on to him as if my life depended on it. Turning us, Mitch presses my back to a tree, our bodies fitting together like some fucked up puzzle. Sliding his hand down my body, he tugs at the hem of my dress before urging my leg around his hip.

  His body rocks into mine, igniting flames that burn through my blood stream like a match to gasoline. He does this to me. With every touch, Mitch starts a fire that only he can put out.

  “We should stop,” I mumble against his lips, but my protest lacks conviction. “I’m mad at you.”

  Everything about this is wrong. We should be talking about what happened the other night or what I walked in on in the kitchen just seconds ago. I know that, but I can’t think rationally when he is touching me. The moment he gets too close, I forget what I should be saying. Those little messages your conscience sends to your brain to stop you from doing stupid shit short circuit and never get processed.

  Honestly, my conscience is probably sitting there with popcorn and a beer enjoying the show.

  She’s a whore…

  Holding me firmly against him, he continues to rock his already hard cock into me. My body aches with how badly I want this. He is slowly, but surely, driving me to the edge of my sanity. Mitch cups my breast through my dress, his thumb making circles over my nipple until it hardens beneath his touch. Breaking the kiss, my head falls back. Closing my eyes, the sensations overwhelm me. His touch, his kiss, it’s all too much. It overpowers my will and all I can do is pray he gives me release. “You’re always mad at me,” he replies, kissing a trail to my ear. His tone stops me. It’s almost like a switch has been flipped and I can barely keep up with the change in the atmosphere around us. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something is off, big time.

  “Not always,” I reply breathlessly. “We need to talk about the other night. About what happens now.”

  “I’m through talkin’, Shelby.” Blowing out a breath, Mitch steadies me on my feet again and steps back. Adjusting himself, he winces. “It doesn’t accomplish anything. A chat won’t fix my fucked up life, it won’t change anything to sit and discuss my problems to death. The past has nothing to do with right now. I ran from all of that shit and refuse to look back.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I arch a brow. “I’m no farmer, Mitch, but I know when I’m knee deep in bullshit.” When he has no smart ass remark, I can’t help smirking. “You may have moved back to Vegas thinking you were escaping them, but you packed up those ghosts and brought them all with you. They’re in the bottom of every bottle of vodka. Every time you lash out or shut down and refuse to let anyone in, it’s those demons driving you. Your scars are reminders of your past, but they don’t have to be the road map to your future.”

  “Do you always sound like a Hallmark card?” he mumbles, and even though it’s dark, I can still see him roll his eyes.

  “Sorry if I’m not a poet like you, asshole.”

  “What do you want from me, Shelby?” he asks, coolly. “A commitment? An ‘I love you’ that essentially means nothing? Those three words are just an empty promise that I’ll break. I can’t love anyone, I’m not capable of that shit. It isn’t in me anymore, maybe it never was to begin with.”

  “Mitch…”

  “You want me to fuck you? To give you a ring then lay beside you in bed every night and believe it is anything more than a release?” he asks, throwing up his hands. “I’m just the asshole everyone says I am. Even you. You’re asking for shit I don’t fuckin’ have to give.”

  “You stupid son of a bitch,” I yell, shoving at his chest. “I never asked you for anything! I just want you and all you can do is cut me deeper and deeper. Mitch, you mean something to me. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. Yes, you are an asshole, but you’re a good man. A goddamn hero. I didn’t see the chemistry between us coming, but I can’t deny what you make me feel. I won’t pretend that I don’t have feelings for you. I’m willing to take that leap because I think what we could have would be worth it. Who the hell drives six hours to attend a funeral for someone they never met? I did that for you. That’s what happens when you fall in love; you do things you wouldn’t do for anyone else. Because when you hurt, so do I.”

  Mitch winces as if the words I just spoke punched him in the gut. His face goes white as a ghost and if I didn’t know better I’d say he was about to faint. I didn’t mean to say the words, but now that they are out, it feels right. Looking back, it is so clear that I have been falling for Mitch a long time now.

  “I’m sorry, this was all a mistake. You shouldn’t have come.”

  “Wow. Are you really that petrified of finding someone, or something, that makes you happy now that you purposely destroy everything good that comes along? I can’t wrap my head around it,” I say in disbelief. Pressing my hand to his chest, I flatten my palm. “That heart you say you don’t have is beating right now. I know you care about me, too; I see it. I can feel it.”

  “You know what?” Yanking a hand through his hair, he turns his back on me. “I don’t really care if you understand why this isn’t going to happen, you just need to comprehend that it won’t. End of story.”

  “What a sad life,” I snap. Reaching out to grab his arm, I stop myself. Right now, I need to put every ounce of strength I have into what I have to say. If I touch him, I’ll crumble. I can’t let that happen. He doesn’t get to see that. “Fuckin’ coward. You’re only hurting yourself by being too afraid to take a chance on something real. This,” I say stepping around to meet his eyes, “could be the most real goddamn thing either of us have ever felt and you are turning your back on it out of fear. You were never meant to spend the rest of your life alone, but you have to make that decision. It can’t be made for you.”

  His jaw ticks and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. I want so badly to know what he is thinking, but Mitch never gives that away willingly. His thoughts and feelings are kept hidden from the world, hidden by the mask that he wears to keep people away.

  Everyone except me. I thought things were changing, that he was letting me in.

  And look where that got you, Shel?

  “You said the other day you want honesty from me, so here goes.” His eyes open and my stomach drops into my toes. I have seen Mitch angry, upset, happy, and everywhere in-between, but the look in his eyes is one that rips me to shreds. Surrender. “Truth is, no matter how much I want you, how much I’m realizing that I need you, this can never go anywhere but bad. You’re better off walking the fuck away now. Since I know you won’t, I have to do that for you.”

  Without another word, Mitch walks around me and heads down the trail, disappearing into the tree shrouded darkness.

  “Enjoy your solitude, Mitch.” My words come out, but I can barely hear them so I know he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter, though. He has made his decision.

  Walking back into the house, I am glad when it looks like Luke has gone to bed. The last thing I want is to deal with anyone right now. Taking a blue and gold afghan off the back of the couch, I curl up on the cushions. I have always relied on my strength to get me through tough t
imes and now will be no different. I smile and laugh, because that’s just who I am. Even when I have to fake it, I do so until I am alone before I give in to the hurt I feel. Since I know Mitch won’t be coming back anytime soon, and Luke is most likely passed out behind the closed bedroom door, I let the tears fall.

  I rode up here hoping to find answers. Thanks to Luke I got them, even if they weren’t the ones I expected or wanted. I wasn’t even sure of how I felt about Mitch until I walked in and overheard him and Luke talking tonight. Everything sort of became clear and I knew, in that moment, not only was I falling in love with him, but he all but said he loved me too. Then, while I am struggling with coming to terms with my heart and my head seeing Mitch in a new light, and all the possibilities that come along with it, he was quick to shatter it.

  They say you can’t control who you fall in love with. Tonight, I learned that lesson well. The only thing left for me to figure out is what to do now that I know my love isn’t enough to reach in and save him from his demons.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shelby

  Yanking the afghan up over my eyes, I groan at the sun for waking me up. I don’t know how long I spent feeling sorry for myself, but eventually I cried myself to sleep. Forcing my puffy eyes open, I sit up and look around the house for any signs of life.

  “Luke?” I call out, pushing to my feet.

  Starting down the hallway, I stop in the doorway of one bedroom. A full sized bed with a pink quilt lies untouched while the bed across the hall, was slept in, but is now empty. After making my way back through the house, I step into the kitchen and find a note from Luke taped to the fridge.

  Went fishing with Mitch and Micah.

  Tossing the note to the counter, I shake my head. “Great.”

  I contemplate writing a reply of my own and heading back to Vegas in his car. Mitch made it all too clear last night how things are. Even though it would probably be easier to jump in the car and drive as far away from him as possible, I also know that’s not me. I can’t avoid him forever. Besides, when life takes a bite of Shelby Winston, she doesn’t run and hide with her tail between her legs. Hell no, she bites the fucker back and leaves it for dead.

  Though I am hurting, I am not weak. It may have gotten me down, but I won’t let it keep me there.

  Heading down the hall, I decide to shower since I look like a circus clown who drove a convertible through a car wash. I can’t help laughing at myself when I look in the mirror. My makeup has streaked down my face so badly that I wouldn’t be shocked if my nipples weren’t rocking my eyeliner and lip gloss.

  “Today is a new day,” I say, pointing to myself in the mirror. “There’s no reason for that smile to leave your face. You’re Shelby motherfuckin’ Winston!”

  Everyone’s middle name should be motherfuckin’. Saying that to yourself in the mirror every morning is the perfect ego boost to jump start your day. It’s like your fight song being played at your own personal pep rally.

  Rah rah sis boom bah, you badass motherfucker.

  After I’ve showered and dressed, I blow dry and straighten my hair. Once I am satisfied with my makeup, I go in search of caffeine. The coffee pot in the kitchen is a dinosaur. The green pot is the color of baby puke and plugs right into the wall. It even gives me a shock when I switch it on.

  Who needs coffee? Electrocution for the win.

  Once it’s done, I pour myself a cup and walk out onto the front porch. I stare out into the large front yard, the perimeter is fenced in with thick wooden poles and wire. A flag pole stands in the middle of the yard. The American flag and another that says ‘maintaining the tradition. U.S. Navy retired’ on it wave in morning breeze.

  A car turns off the road onto the gravel, catching my attention. It isn’t until it stops behind Mitch’s truck and the door opens that I spot the shock of platinum blonde hair. Climbing from the car in a pair of bright red peep toe heels, Maddie shoulders a bag and heads my way. “Hey. Shelby, right?” she asks waddling up the steps and steps inside the screened in porch, “Mitch here?”

  “Nope,” I shake my head. “Went fishing.”

  Pursing her lips, she takes the rocker beside me and places the bag at her feet. Resting her hands on her belly, she sighs. Even though she isn’t Becky, I find myself a bit envious of Maddie. She has seen pieces of Mitch that I’ll never know. She has seen him truly happy, known his smile and how different his laugh sounds when it isn’t hiding his real feelings. Those things she knew as normal, every day Mitch, are the very things I have seen tiny glimpses of and crave more of like a fix from a junkie.

  “He never could resist the water at sunrise when he was out here with Frank,” Maddie says with a knowing smile. Sniffling, she brushes away a tear. “It’s a horrible feeling to lose your best friend, Shelby.” Her voice cracks as she speaks. “I spent weeks trying to make sense of what happened that day, but it isn’t meant for us to understand why God gives and why he chooses to take away. It is simply our job to celebrate life and make the most of what we have while we’re here.” Looking down at her belly, she hiccups. “Her name is Taylor,” she says softly, rubbing her hand in a circle over her baby bump. “Taylor Rebecca Sheppard. I’ve always believed that the most beautiful things come from pain, Shelby. Nothing truly special can be earned without having to endure.” Blowing out a breath, she brushes down the front of her sliver maxi dress. “Anyway, I wanted to come see you before you headed back to Vegas and I had a feeling this was my only shot to get you alone.”

  “Me?” I ask, confused. “You came out here to see me?”

  “Losing Becky crushed us all, but I can’t accept losing Mitch too.” Turning in the chair, she faces me, her eyes filled with tears. “Excuse the pregnancy hormones, they make me cry during commercials.” Wiping her face with her hands, she rolls her big blue eyes and laughs. “You probably think I’m certifiable; driving out here to discuss your relationship with Mitch. You don’t know me and I know I come on a bit strong...”

  “Um—” I interrupt, thinking exactly that. “I don’t think you understand. Mitch and I aren’t…”

  “What Mitch and Becky had was exceptional,” she begins, totally ignoring anything I say. “It was un-fucking-fair for that to be cut short like it was, but who said life was even-handed? Becky’s story may have ended, but Mitch still has plenty of pages left to be filled with his happy. Yes, I know not everyone gets a happily ever after, but if anyone deserves one, it’s him. Yesterday, I had fully planned on chasing him down and knocking some sense into him, with my designer clutch if necessary, but something changed my mind.”

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, “If it’s the fashion in prison you’re worried about, Maddie, I was told somewhere in Arizona they wear pink.”

  “Thanks. I’ll make sure to remember that if I have to get my hands dirty,” she replies with a little laugh. “Actually, though, I’m here now because I can tell you care about him. It’s also because Beck and I had a pact and, being that I can see the feeling is mutual, it’s my job to check you out.” Studying me, she laughs. “Wow, you really are nothing like her at all, are you?”

  “Um, I wouldn’t know,” I reply, while she continues to ramble about the vast differences between Becky and me. “I’m not sure I follow why that brings you here to me, Maddie,” I interrupt when she begins to ramble.

  “Shit. Sorry, I tend to get off topic.” Pushing the bag toward me, she smiles sadly. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m here handling this the best way I know how. To truly love and appreciate that man, you have to really see him. These are for you.”

  Reaching inside the bag, she pulls out a leather bound journal. Looking down, I see four more, each of them numbered. My eyes widen and I swear my jaw bounces off the wood beneath my feet. “Me?” I ask, shoving the book back in the bag. “Are these her… I mean those are her…”

  “Yes,” she nods. “Mitch was quick to throw out nearly everything, but I managed to save
these, among other things, I knew I couldn’t let go to the dump. If anyone loved him, Becky did. No better way to see him than through her eyes.”

  “No offense, and I mean this in the nicest way possible,” I explain, pushing to my feet. “But why in the hell would I want to read those? Are you plannin’ to blame this level of insanity on pregnancy hormones too, or is this your normal level of whacked?”

  “I like you, Shelby.” Laughing, she pushes to her feet. “Believe it or not, I was afraid this was going to be awkward.”

  “Hmmmm,” I hum sarcastically as she walks toward the door. “I wonder why.”

  Stopping in the doorway, she turns and meets my eyes. “Beneath all that macho, ‘I’m a giant unfeeling asshole and I’ll be mean to everyone because I can’ bullshit, is a great big heart and an amazing man that should be smiling all the time. Take care of him.”

  Without another word, she climbs into her car and drives away. I stare down at the bag, questioning Maddie’s sanity. Seriously, who does this?

  “Hi, please excuse me for just showing up and comparing you to my dead best friend, but since you have it bad for the man she was gonna marry… let me give you her diaries so you can read about how amazing they were together and how happy he was before his fucking heart was ripped out…”

  Totally not awkward at all…

  Leaning down, I poke the top of the canvas bag, peeking down inside. Part of me anticipates some kind of monster hiding inside waiting to bite off a finger or two. Or some sort of trap… This is Maddie we’re talking about here and, from what I’ve seen, the woman has crazy locked down like a pro.

  This is a huge invasion of privacy. Not only is it reading Becky’s most personal thoughts and feelings, it’s very much parts of Mitch’s too. Can I justify this? Could I really read these like Maddie thinks I should? Sure, I can admit that I am curious about Becky, and even more so about the man Mitch was before, but does that make it okay to go digging up things that are probably better off staying buried?