by Riley Jean
“Anybody since this Miles guy?” he questioned before I could ask.
“A lot of anybody’s,” I deflected with a wink. A plethora of relationships that left much to be desired, plus one I wasn’t willing to mention. After our embarrassing encounter with Todd, he could use his imagination to fill in the blanks.
And then I didn’t have to wonder anymore about what he was thinking, because he spoke his mind.
“You know what drives me crazy about jerks like that?” Vance said. “They ruin it for the actual nice guys. The next man in your life will have to work that much harder just to prove he’s not the same.”
“There won’t be a next one,” I affirmed. “I have officially kissed dating goodbye.”
“See what I mean?” He shook his head. “Dude’s already got his work cut out for him.”
I looked him in the eye. “I’m serious. If I ever fall for another line again, I’ll break up with myself.”
He leaned back and grinned, hands clasped behind his head, elbows pointed out. “You say that now. Just wait til someone comes along and sweeps you off your feet.”
His amusement at this situation was starting to piss me off. “Then Ricky Storm will beat his ass. Fuck that shit.”
Vance rolled his eyes but didn’t even mention the name drop. “You can’t swear off all fruit just because of a few bad apples. You’ve barely lived! You’ll see.”
That did it. “Don’t treat me like I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. You have no clue what kind of shit people go through for so-called love.”
“I think I have a clue,” he interrupted, but I scoffed. Nathan and Miles were just the tip of the iceberg.
“You’ve got the picture perfect relationship. You’re going to ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after with your high school sweetheart. I’m happy for you, I really am, but don’t think for a second that everybody has it easy as you. Because they don’t!”
“We’re not perfect,” he countered, lips pressed into a hard line.
“Oh please,” I huffed. “Spare me the sob story of your last fight with Evelyn regarding who loves whom more.”
He laughed. Actually laughed. It only served to infuriate me further.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he said before I could yell at him again. “I won’t judge your love life, if you don’t judge mine.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I went back to attacking my pancakes with my knife and fork. Ugh! He made me so mad. But better I take it out on my food than continue to make a scene.
The squeak of silverware became pronounced as the air between us filled with tension. I didn’t believe for one second that Vance wasn’t judging me. It must have seemed pretty stupid to abandon all hope just because of two idiot high school boyfriends. Well, who cared what Vance thought of me, anyway? Not me.
“Don’t be upset,” he said, the amusement gone from his voice. “It’s just… I can’t imagine someone like you could ever end up alone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I looked up with suspicious eyes. “Someone like me?”
“You know,” he shrugged.
I continued to stare and he sighed.
“I mean…” he seemed to consider his words carefully. Then he pulled out his phone and held it up to me. A picture of my silly face photobombing the Mooshi shift schedule displayed on the screen. “Who wouldn’t want a lifetime of this?”
I rolled my eyes but he remained serious. “You could have any guy you wanted. You just have to choose a little wiser next time.”
Any guy I wanted? Not likely. He was just trying to flatter me.
My cheeks betrayed me and turned pink.
The screen blackened and he quickly shoved it in his pocket. “There,” he said, not looking at me. “That’s all I’m going to say about it.”
Chapter 11
Branded
“Come With Me Now” by Kongos
“Oh! You don’t approve of a decision I’ve made? Shocker!”
“James. You’re not listening. I never said we disapprove. I just want to make sure you’ve got the right perspective going into this. It’s an honorable decision, but it won’t be how you think it is.”
“I don’t know why I even bothered explaining it to you. This is something above your level of comprehension.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said you’re ignorant.”
I turned up the stereo volume to drown out their voices. Good gracious, he was an asshole. My mama had the patience of a saint. But when it came to raising these kids, she needed a whole lot more than patience…
My parents blew a gasket when I showed up that night, my car gone, my golden curls gone, the college plan gone… my once lively brown eyes now clouded over with death.
They didn’t know what to do with me. They left me alone in my room for a few days, coming to terms with their failure as parents: now both their offspring were off-their-rocker crazy.
After less than a year out on my own, I had hit rock bottom.
I knew I was a disappointment. My mama had raised me to be a lady, but the girl who returned home that night was nothing but a hot mess. There went any hope of having a normal child.
It took her days before she could muster up the courage to confront me. “Is everything alright?” she had asked, like it wasn’t obvious I was in the middle of a mental effing breakdown. But her eyes betrayed her. I could tell the thought of me giving her a real answer scared the hell out of her. So I made it easy and kept my secrets to myself. She fulfilled her motherly duties by finding me the number to a local psychiatrist. You know, in case I needed someone to talk to.
Mama and I didn’t exactly have the kind of relationship where I could open up about this sort of thing. She was generally optimistic and pleasant to be around, but never good at difficult conversations. Our sex talk consisted of me finding a pamphlet on my dresser when I was a preteen. I swear, the woman was an even bigger prude than me.
Eventually my father put his foot down. I couldn’t just live at his house and waste my life away, he’d said. They agreed to let me take some time off from school, but I had to promise to go back and finish. And in the meantime—no ifs, ands or buts—I had to work. He wanted me to pick up where I left off, crunching numbers at his company, but my brain was in no shape to handle the stress of working under his wing again, nor the pressure of perfection. I had already been stretched too thin.
Burnt out at eighteen.
That’s why I was thankful that Mooshi Treatery had been hiring.
James’ fists pounded against the wall between us in three quick slams. “Shut off that idiotic music!”
As if. Kongos was so not idiotic music. But according to James, if it wasn’t Metallica or Disturbed, forget about it.
I rolled my eyes but turned the volume down. He’d better believe I’d turn it back up if anyone started yelling again.
* * *
“Check it out, Rosie!” Vance shoved his cell phone under my nose. I had to lean back just so my eyes could focus on the screen. It was a picture of him holding up a scaly beast that looked to be at least three and a half feet long.
“Holy jaws!” I exclaimed, dropping my book in my lap. “What is that?”
“It’s a leopard shark. Caught him off the shore in Bolsa Chica.”
“You caught this? At the beach?” As if I needed another reason to stay away from the Pacific Ocean.
“Yep,” he said proudly. “It was my first time reeling in a shark. He put up quite a fight. Pretty cool, huh?”
“Oh my gosh! How did you catch it?”
His smile turned quizzical. “You really wanna know?”
“Sure. I mean, it’s not like I’ve never been fishing before.” Yeah, there was that one time back in Texas, when I was five.
His smile grew. “Okay. Well… I had to use my saltwater rod and reel. They’re built stronger than freshwater r
ods, and the line is thicker. Otherwise these big guys will snap the line right off. Then I had to use the right rig… it’s like this,” he grabbed a pen and paper and started drawing lines and squiggles. “See? It’s called a Carolina rig. You tie the knot like this with the weight and swivel here and the hook at the bottom. And your bait is important, too. This guy went after fresh squid.”
My nose scrunched around my smile. “Gross.”
He chuckled. “Nah. It’s like calamari. Or sushi. You like sushi, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? I thought all girls loved sushi!”
“Since when have I been a typical girl?”
His grin never faltered. “That’s putting it lightly.”
“Whatever. And besides, aren’t you allergic to seafood?”
He blinked. “You remember that?”
I shrugged and looked at the photo again. It was so much bigger than the little catfish in my own old picture. No wonder he was stoked. “I can’t believe you caught this. He’s huge! I bet Evelyn was really happy for you.”
“Huh? Oh… sure.”
Right then, the front door chimed. Vance walked over to the swinging door and looked through the little square window. His expression was cautious and assessing, but his smile came back when he looked to me.
“Looks like just one person. You keep reading. Let me know what happens next to Charlotte and Wolfie.”
I rolled my eyes then returned them to the book in my lap. Goober.
Vance disappeared into the front of the store to take care of the customer. It only took a few seconds before my head snapped up at the sound of my name. But this time, it didn’t induce ice in my veins. A bewildered smile spread across my face as I stood and headed for the door. I peeked my head out just as Vance was saying “No, she’s not here tod—”
“Ricky?”
The customer looked up at me, a ghost of a smile on his handsome face. It was him—Ricky Storm in the tanned and tattooed flesh. I certainly hadn’t expected him to ever visit me at work. His hard exterior seemed out-of-place amongst the bright colors and cartoon cows of our little shop. In contrast, this place seemed exceptionally dorky. But if he was uncomfortable, he didn’t show it. The fondness touched his eyes in a way that was only ever directed towards me.
“Hey kiddo,” he said in greeting.
Vance broke in, “Like I was saying, she’s not here at the moment.”
“Stop it,” I swatted at him, then made my way around the counter. “What are you doing here?”
He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Seeing if you wanna take a ride?”
I peered out the glass storefront and saw the Harley parked with one helmet resting on the seat. Nighttime had fallen; the neon pink and blue from our store sign reflected off its chrome.
“You do remember I finally have my own car now, right?”
“I’ll bring you back when we’re done,” he said, “You won’t regret it, I swear.”
“Tempting. But I’m working the late shift tonight and we don’t close for another hour. Speaking of, do you want any ice cream?” I offered, hitching a thumb. “It’s on the house.” It was the least I could do to thank him for subjecting himself to this place for me.
My offer went ignored. “Come on. This place is a ghost town. Can’t you take a sick day or something?”
I laughed, resisting his tug. “Boss man is standing right over there. I don’t think he’ll buy it.”
“But it’s your birthday,” he said, shooting Vance a condescending smirk. “He’ll cover for you on your birthday, won’t he?”
My eyes shut heavily. Oh snap.
“Birthday?” said Vance from behind the counter.
“Thanks a lot,” I grumbled to Ricky. “For your information, I wasn’t planning on celebrating tonight.”
“I know that. Not like there’s a cake. Couldn’t pay me enough to wear one of those little aprons.” My eyes narrowed. Dick move. “But I do have a surprise for you. So come with me.”
I was right about to refuse again when Vance spoke up.
“Scarlett.” He emphasized my name with a tone of voice that meant business. I was a bit taken aback. Technically he was my lead, but he rarely acted bossy like this with me. His eyes flickered to Ricky, then back to me. “Can I see you for a minute?”
“…Sure.” I took a quick second to stick my tongue out at Ricky. Big brother just got me into trouble with the boss man.
Soon as I passed through the swinging door, I was met by a tight-mouthed Vance.
I smiled to lighten the mood. “At ease, general. He’s not another one of my evil exes.”
Vance was not amused. He just kept giving me “the eye.” So I gave it right back to him in exaggerated form.
“What?” I shot back with a scowl. What was he being such a nag about?
“You’re really friends with Ricky Storm?”
“Yes. You got a problem with that?”
“Who? Me? Nah. He’s got… nice… earrings.”
I elbowed him in the gut, then bit back a wince. Whatever he had hiding under there, it might have just left a bruise.
“They’re called gauges, Vance.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It just seems like, based on our last conversation—”
“You mean where we agreed not to judge each other’s lives?”
There was a heavy pause, followed by a loud sigh of submission. “Fine. You’re right.”
“And maybe you should watch what you say before you go jumping to conclusions, because Ricky is family.”
One look at Ricky and I knew exactly where his mind went. But hadn’t I made myself clear last night? The worst part wasn’t even that Vance was judging me. He was judging my friend.
He stared at me for another minute before responding. “You can take the rest of the night off. If you want.”
Who…? What…? I shook my head. “And leave you to close up alone? I would never ask—”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
“But… I’ve never ditched a shift in my life.”
“Then you’re long overdue. It’s easy. Gwen does it all the time,” he said, handing me my purse and my sweater. “Here. Happy birthday. Now get out of here before he throws you over his shoulder.” He looked less than thrilled at the idea.
I took my things, releasing a single bewildered laugh. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was right about Ricky going all caveman. “Alright… um, thanks, I guess.”
“Rosie?” he called out once more. I waited as he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Just… Don’t give away free ice cream.”
I stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. They all did it. Just last week Vance had taken home all three of his free portions for his girlfriend. Something told me things would’ve been different if the first friend that came by to visit me was a little less threatening.
He wanted to play tough boss man? Fine. I could play along.
“Yes, sir,” I saluted him.
The late night air engulfed us as we vacated the store. It was still and silent but warm—my favorite part of summertime. Ricky was quiet as I reflected in the darkness. We used to have a casual, private friendship reserved for when one of us was in need, and that worked for us. Why the sudden change? Was it because I had opened up to him recently? Become more vulnerable and needy? The only predictable outcome would have been him shutting me out; surprising me for my birthday was something else entirely.
I plopped down on the seat of his bike. “So… this is new,” I stated directly.
He used one hand to ruffle my hair. I gasped and shoved him back, laughing at his brotherly bout of playfulness. He took his time, fitting the helmet over my head and snapping the buckle at my chin.
“You seem better,” he said, ignoring my statement.
I nodded, apprehensive. “I’m getting there.”
That was about as close as we ever got to touching on our personal l
ives. Ricky and I had an understanding. We were both aware of one another’s demons, but we respected each other’s space.
He tapped my helmet lightly and gave me his small smile. “Just go with it.”
With that, he swung a strong leg over his bike and started the engine. There were no handles for me, so I wrapped my arms around his torso and held on.
Vance stayed inside hovering by the register and pretending not to watch. I bit my lip, feeling guilty for leaving him to pick up my slack. I lifted a hand and after a few seconds he did the same. He stayed there until we pulled away, the loud blast of Ricky’s Harley punctuating our exit.
* * *
We came to a stop in front of Blackbird Ink, the place where Ricky worked. It was approaching eleven and the street was deserted. There were no lights on in the building, and black metal bars stretched across the front.
“Surprise,” he said flatly.
Then I figured it out. “A tattoo.”
“Yeah, a tattoo. Nineteen’s a big year, we gotta make it memorable.”
I eyed him doubtfully. “Nineteen?” It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. Not like twenty or twenty-one.
He lifted a shoulder as he unlocked the barred doors. “What? I missed eighteen. You didn’t get your first ink without me, did you?”
“No,” I said, following him into the shop.
Lexi and I had gotten belly button piercings last summer for my eighteenth birthday—a huge middle finger to what could have been my wedding night. She had to use her fake ID since she wouldn’t turn eighteen until October. We went back for her actual birthday and she got a pink butterfly tattooed on her lower back. But I just came for moral support. Back then, a permanent mark was where I drew the line.
He turned on the lights and I finally got a good look at the place. It was clean. The electric purple walls were covered with band posters, client photos and clusters of mini sample tattoos framed in black. He directed me to a orange leather couch that had seen better days, and handed me a few more sample binders.
“Look around. I have an idea, but first see if anything catches your eye.”
* * *