Solitude (Artistic Pricks Ink #3)

by Cat Mason

  Opening my eyes, I grab a coffee cup from the drainer and fill it with water. Downing it quickly, I groan. The cool, clear liquid does nothing to quiet the screaming inside my head. “Goddammit!” I scream, throwing the mug.

  The loud crash echoes throughout the kitchen as the mug slams into my closed backdoor. Glass shatters around me, broken shards so tiny that they can never be repaired.

  Isn’t that ironic as hell?

  “Here it is,” I say to myself. The point that everyone has been waiting for me to hit.

  Rock bottom.

  Pop goes the bubble I’ve protected myself with and my world, as I know it, crumbles to the ground. I know now that I can’t live without her love. She is right; we have to talk this out. Whatever the outcome, I owe her that. I owe us that much.

  Shoving into my shoes, I head for the door, wondering if she could still possibly be here, if she would even listen to me after the things I said. The sound of squealing tires followed by a loud crash have the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. I fling open the front door and step into my own personal nightmare.

  Shelby’s car is sitting in the middle of the intersection, wrapped around the front end of a box truck. The irony of déjà vu isn’t lost on me. Time slows to a crawl, or is it just me that is never fast enough. I run through the lot, unable to get to her fast enough. “Do something useful with that damn IPhone, dickhead, call nine-one-one,” I shout to some asshole standing on the corner taking pictures.

  “Shelby!” Reaching the car, I hear her groan. “Shelby, can you hear me? Sit tight, I’m going to get you out of there.”

  “Fucking bitch,” a man shouts from behind me. “She saw me coming. Does the stupid woman not know how to use her brakes?” Turning, I spot the driver of the truck, throwing his hands up in frustration as he studies the damage to his truck. “How am I gonna explain this to my boss? I hope you have insurance, bitch!”

  “That bitch deserved it…”

  Kelly’s words the day of Shelby’s accident repeat over and over in my head. I snap. Balling up my fist, I turn and hook the guy in the jaw. “Don’t call her that, you piece of shit.”

  He tumbles backwards. “What the fuck?” he shouts, his body bouncing off the concrete.

  My foot collides with his ribs, again and again. Curling up in a ball, he tries to guard himself, only making me angrier. “Fucking pussy. Talk some more shit. You’re all big and bad until someone can fight back, aren’t you?” Grabbing him, I lift him to his feet and slam him against the side of the truck. “I’ll fucking kill you, do you hear me?” I roar, punching him in the face again.

  “Mitch?”

  I freeze.

  Releasing him, I am instantly at her side. “Sweetness,” I whisper. Her hair is matted to the side of her face, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead and cheek. I look her over as best I can. Her fingers are covered in tiny cuts from the broken window and windshield. The second I see the bright red oozing through her shirt, my blood runs cold. “Not again,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “This can’t be happening again.”

  Following the path of my eyes, she gasps. “I’ll be damned. He did get me pretty good, didn’t he?”

  “Ambulance is pulling in now,” a woman says running up to help me. “Is there anything I can do?”

  I shake my head. “Shel, let me have a look, okay?” I ask, reaching into the car to lift the hem of her shirt.

  “Oh,” she laughs, then winces in pain. “You’re a doctor now, huh, asshole?”

  “As much as I love your smartass mouth, now isn’t the time for it,” I say when her hand covers mine.

  “I’ll be fine,” she says, her eyes drifting closed. “You don’t have to be here.”

  “Hey, you’ve gotta stay awake for me.” Brushing the hair from her face, I watch her eye lids twitch, but they don’t reopen. “Shelby?” I ask, my trembling fingers going immediately to check her pulse. “Fuck. Shelby, wake up for me, please.”

  The scene is swarmed within minutes by police, an ambulance, and even a fire truck. I am pushed back with the rest of the crowd, helpless to do anything other than watch while Shelby is checked out by an EMT before they cut her from the car. Everyone around me is snapping pictures and tweeting statuses while it feels like every move they make to free her is vital to my survival.

  By the time they finally get her out and strapped to a board, I am going crazy. “Where are they taking her?” I shout to one of the police officers when he walks by.

  “Who are you?” he asks, stepping up to me.

  “Mitchell Taylor. I live over there,” I explain, pointing to my condo. “She was leaving my house.”

  “She’s your girl?” he asks, looking over as they load Shelby into the back of the ambulance. I nod, unable to say anything else. “They’ve got her stabilized for now.” He tells me where they’ll be transporting her and what he knows of her injuries.

  “That’s the bastard that attacked me!”

  The driver of the truck walks up, shoving me in the chest. “He came running up like a crazy man and started wailing on me after that bitch ran the red light and plowed into me.”

  “I obviously didn’t give you enough if you’re still flappin’ that fuckin’ mouth of yours, asshole,” I say gritting my teeth. My fists ball at my sides, welcoming the anger that can momentarily take away from everything else I am feeling right now.

  “Sir,” the officer turns and faces him. “According to the witnesses, you swerved onto the shoulder to avoid the red. Ms. Winston had the green light and the right of way. Of course, we will review the cameras attached to the intersection to verify, but as of right now, we have no reason to fault Ms. Winston in any way.” Glancing at me, the officer grins. “As for your altercation with Mr. Taylor, you can most certainly file a report and charges if you so wish. You can cause him and the victim of your negligence grief and duress, but I assure you your focus should be on the fact that you put a woman in an ambulance today, not that you got roughed up a bit. As an officer of the law, I can give you your options, but as a man, I’ll say that if I heard you talkin’ about my girl that way, you’d be the one on the way to the hospital.”

  “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” he grounds out, “so will she!” Turning on his heel, he stomps away.

  “Thank you,” I say to the officer as he walks away from me. He nods, saying nothing as he begins to direct traffic, detouring them into the center lanes.

  The minute the ambulance pulls away, I run back to the house and call Luke. After explaining what happened, it takes all of three seconds for him to say he’s on his way and hang up the phone. Throwing on a shirt, I pace the sidewalk like a mad man while I wait. The horrible things I said to her play on repeat in my head, guilt and regret are like thousand pound weights on my shoulders.

  It didn’t matter what she had said, I wasn’t hearing any of it. She’s right; I shut her out, just like I always do. I could have easily lost her today because I was too blinded by my own feelings to hear her out. Instead of saying the words I needed to say, that should have come so easily, I shut down and hurt her all over again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Shelby

  My whole body aches and my head is pounding. It feels like every inch of my body is crying. “Miss Winston?” a familiar female voice catches my attention. “Shelby, can you hear me?”

  I groan. Cracking my eyes open, I wince at the bright halogen lights of the hospital room. “The light hurts my eyes.”

  “Better?” she asks.

  Opening my eyes, I sigh in relief, grateful for the darkness. “Thank you, Ember,” I say when I see the familiar face.

  “You recognize me, that’s a good sign. Means your memory isn’t a problem,” she replies, walking over to the bed. “Your chest x-ray came back clear. How are you feeling? Any nausea or dizziness?” she asks, checking my vitals.

  “Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I deadpan
. “When can I go home?” I ask, pushing to sit up in bed.

  “Even when she nearly dies, she still has a smartass mouth.” Mitch’s voice has tears welling up in my eyes. Wiping them away, I turn my head and see him sitting in the chair on the other side of the bed.

  “Bribing your way into innocent girl’s hospital rooms again I see,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

  “Dr. Stephens wants to keep you overnight for observations,” Ember replies, writing something on the chart in her hand. “He hasn’t ruled out a concussion just yet.” Patting my arm, Ember smiles. “As for Mitch, both times you’ve been under my care here, this man has been a mess worrying about you. He never had to bribe me to get in here, Shelby. When I came in here that night and caught him holding you in the bed while you slept, I saw something that made it all worth the risk of being written up.”

  “What?”

  “That I loved you even then,” Mitch says, pushing to his feet.

  Ember excuses herself. Closing the door behind her, she leaves us alone. I don’t know what to say, my head is a mess, everything runs together and I can’t form a clear thought.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Mitch takes my hand in his. “You look like shit,” I say, taking in his appearance. His hair looks like he’s been yanking on it for hours. The brown eyes that look bottomless are red-rimmed and blood shot.

  “Thanks,” he replies. “Flattery will get you nowhere, sweetness.”

  “What are you doing here, Mitch?” I ask, breaking eye contact when his stare becomes too much for me to handle.

  “Where else would I be?” Bringing up my hand, he presses his lips to my wrist. I wince. The sweet gesture I have grown used to almost burns now.

  “Please don’t,” I whisper, pulling my hand away. “Don’t pretend this morning didn’t happen. Yes, it broke my heart, but I get it, okay? I fucked up, everyone does shit they aren’t proud of. You aren’t obligated to be here because you feel guilty, Mitch. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”

  “Exactly,” he replies, taking my hand again. “I’m not proud of a lot of things I’ve done, baby. This morning tops that list. I can’t say I am okay with what you did, but I can see your point. I think I understand why you felt the need to read them, just like I hope you can see why it hurt so much for me to see them. I don’t want to compare you two, ever. That was a different time and, believe it or not, I was a different man. Losing Becky hurt and it changed me. It was like a razor blade to my heart. I spent a lot of time trying to feel anything other than the numbness it left me with. I drank, pierced my dick; anything to remind myself that I didn’t get put in that box with her. Only thing that has ever hurt worse is knowing that I could lose you, Shelby. I don’t know what I would’ve done today, if you hadn’t been okay. To know that I’ve found love again only to lose it because I was too fuckin’ afraid of the fall is possibly the scariest thing I have ever felt.” Covering my mouth with my other hand, I choke on a sob. Mitch’s hand comes up, his fingers brushing away a tear from my cheek. “I work on your car so that I can trust it won’t break down and leave you stranded without me. I fill your tank because the last person I watched walk in to pay for gas, didn’t walk back out. I know I am an asshole. I’m also a stubborn pain in the ass and, more often than not, I’m going to get my way. You’ve got a smartass mouth that drives me out of my mind, but you’re also the strongest person I’ve ever known. You didn’t give up on me when, God knows, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did. You see me. You have this ability to cut through all the bullshit. You see everything I try so hard to hide, and what fuckin’ blows my mind is that you love me anyway.”

  “I do love you, Mitch,” I whisper, “but I don’t know if that’s enough.”

  “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” he asks, moving so that our eyes meet. “I see the woman who has torn down every one of my defenses and stripped me bare. I see the person who has brought me back from the dead. An angel, who, when I never thought I’d find my way home again, has made me fall so hopelessly in love with her that even though I don’t deserve you , I can’t walk away. I’ll fight until my dying breath before I’ll give you up.”

  “Asshole,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Here you are goin’ all Hallmark poet on me while I look…”

  “You look beautiful,” he says, brushing another tear away before cupping my face. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

  “Of course it does, you jackass,” I say through my tears.

  “I love you, Shelby.”

  “Stop being sweet. I’m mad at you,” I say, unable to hide the smile on my face. “You come in here and tell me you love me for the first time… and make me cry… and make me so fuckin’ happy… Ugh! Why do you make me so crazy?”

  Scooting closer, he brushes his lips over mine. “Because I made you mine.”

  “Asshole,” I whisper, making him laugh against my mouth.

  “Smartass.”

  Epilogue

  Shelby

  Six Weeks Later:

  “I’ve got it,” Mitch says, taking the large gift box from my arms.

  “For fuck’s sake, it’s a baby gift, not a crate of bowling balls.” Rolling my eyes, I straighten the front of my jeans skirt and follow him up the steps to Maddie’s apartment.

  “I thought you were gonna skip town on me!” Maddie squeals the minute she sees us. Scooping up the baby from her husband, Tyler, who I met the other night when we met for drinks at the bar, she heads our way.

  “We went by the cemetery,” I say, hugging her.

  Not wanting to leave me, and saying it was too long of a drive after my accident, Mitch put off a much needed trip to Fallon for as long as he could. I am glad he waited for me to be able to come along, though. The look on Diya’s face when Mitch handed her the deed to Frank’s house was priceless. It meant one step closer to financial freedom for her. After years of struggling to keep a roof over Micah’s and her head, that would no longer be an issue. It also meant she could quit the extra jobs that were taking a toll on her health and well-being.

  The last few weeks have changed so much. Mitch has started attending a group for survivors and those affected by violent crimes. They have been a tremendous help for him to finally begin to shed some of the guilt he has been carrying for far too long. Last week, he even stood and told the story of how Becky died, along with how he saved my life.

  Then, today, with my hand in his, Mitch laid flowers on Becky’s and Frank’s graves and made peace with one of his biggest inner demons. It’s not going to be easy, and it’s not the end of his struggle, but his goal is to keep moving forward toward the future we have together.

  “Put that thing down,” Maddie scolds Mitch, “Time for Taylor to get some time with her Uncle Mitch.”

  Sitting the box on the table beside the other gifts, Mitch smiles. “Hello to you too, Mad.”

  “Here you go,” she says, handing him the baby covered entirely in pink, from her lace headband to her converses. “Watch out for Shep,” she says winking at her husband. “Ever since he got home last week, he hasn’t let anyone hold her. Damn baby hog.”

  Pulling her to his chest, Mitch stares down at the sweet little blonde in amazement as he makes his way over and sits down on a padded porch swing.

  Maddie’s eyes move to me. Smiling, she hugs me to her. “I’m so glad you were able to make the trip.”

  “Maddie!” an older woman calls, swinging open the door. “We need your help with the cake.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Duty calls. I’ll catch you in a few,” she says, heading into the house.

  Making my way over to Mitch, I sit beside him. Wrapping his arm around me, he pulls me into his side and kisses my temple. His eyes go back to Taylor, sleeping soundly in his arms. I can’t help grinning at how peaceful she looks and how relaxed my guy is. “You’re gonna make a hell of a dad someday, prick.”

  “A sassy little blonde with curls?” he ask
s, smiling at me. “Beautiful blues eyes and a smile that melts my heart. Bet she’ll have a smart mouth and be feisty as hell like her momma.”

  “Sounds like we’d have our hands full someday,” I laugh, wincing at the idea of another me running around.

  “Yeah, we will.” Pressing another kiss to my temple, he smiles against my skin.

  There’s no guarantee that life will always be easy. We fight, we make up, we love each other, it’s just that simple, and that makes all of it worth it. The laughs, the love, the tears, every heartache, and every victory we will share together are a stepping stone in the journey we make while filling the pages of our story. I realize now why there were pieces of Mitch’s puzzle that were missing. It’s because it is where I fit, where the parts of us belong in his life that we will put together as a couple. The solitude we both endured until this point has only shown us that together are we truly whole.

  The End

  Acknowledgements:

  I have so many people to thank. This part of the book always seems to be the hardest for me. The two words 'thank you' seem so inadequate to express my gratitude for those who are a part of this journey. I disappear into my head and writing cave for days at a time. I can be flaky, sometimes hysterical, overly emotional, and completely over the top because my characters are such a deep part of me that sometimes I have no choice but to feel everything right along with them.

  The Artistic Pricks Novels are always more intense to get on paper. So much of me is interwoven in this series, so many emotions, and I am unbelievably proud of each one. Every trait of each realistic character that I write on the pages are given life by every reader and for that there are just no words.