by London Casey
“Why?”
“Doesn’t matter why.”
This was her chance to talk for a second. To open those floodgates that were cracking already.
Bella sipped her coffee and hugged the mug with both hands like a comfort blanket.
“I think I was lost before, too. I just didn’t realize it. Working at the diner. Feeling half dead most of the time.”
“So, running away fixed all that?” I asked.
“Not even close, Zayne. I have a boyfriend.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Well, I had a boyfriend. Things aren’t exactly officially done, but to me they are.”
“What happened?”
“Just a messed-up situation. I thought things were more serious than they were.”
“What gave you that impression?”
“Time. Implying things together. The usual.”
“The usual, huh?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You’re with someone long enough that you just kind of imply everything. What you’re going to do. When you’re going to do it. Then it doesn’t work out.”
“So that’s what happened? It just didn’t work out?”
“Something like that.”
“To the point that you had to leave?”
“I chose to leave,” she said. “I just wanted something else, Zayne. It feels like I can’t breathe sometimes. So, I thought I could get into my car and escape it all.”
“Then your car breaks down.”
“Is that a sign?”
“Fuck no,” I said with a grin. “Well, it’s a sign you need a new car.”
She laughed. She looked even prettier when she smiled. “Thanks for that.”
“Hey, what really happened, though?” I asked. “I mean, you two just call it quits? Or…”
“It just came time to walk away,” she said. “Sometimes, things aren’t what you think.”
I nodded. I swallowed hard. “Yeah. I get that.”
“Hey,” she said. “You said you were just hanging here for a little while, then going to Miami. Why?”
“Why not?”
“But why leave here? You have a place. You have a job. You’re good at what you do.”
“I want my own thing.”
“You can’t have that here?”
“St. Skin is everything here,” I said.
“Right,” she said. “Well, I hope whatever you want, you get it.”
“Same to you, Bella,” I said. “If you need anything…” I took out my phone and asked for her number. I then sent her a text.
Just like that, we had each other’s numbers.
“Zayne,” Bella said as I reached for the door again.
This time, I didn’t turn around. I just stood there.
“It was nasty,” she said. “What happened. It was really bad. I’m not exactly sure I wanted to leave. But I had to leave. You know?”
My interest was sparked once again.
This time I dropped my bags and walked right to Bella. I didn’t have any more time to waste. And some thoughts and images were swirling around in my mind.
I put a hand to her wrist and forced her to put the coffee mug down on the counter.
“You said it was nasty. It was bad. What the hell does that mean?”
“It just…was,” she whispered.
I looked down at her. I didn’t want to scare her or intimidate her. But I needed to know…
“Did he hurt you?”
“Yes,” she confessed.
“Bella, did he touch you? I mean, did he hurt you that way? He…”
“Hit me?” she asked.
I nodded.
“No,” she said. “No, Zayne, not like that.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I swear.”
“Okay.”
I backed away, but not before I reached for her chin. My thumb stroked it. I had no fucking idea why I did that.
I walked away and grabbed my bags again.
“Zayne, if he…I mean, what would you have done?”
I opened the door. Nothing was going to keep me back again. I looked back at Bella one last time.
And I told her the truth.
“If he hit you, I would find him and break his fucking hands.”
I had everything set up and ready to go. I shook away the morning and everything that had happened earlier. I forgot all about the beautiful woman in my apartment. I focused on the tattoo. I eyed the sketch. I thought about my concept. I chose my colors.
Hannah showed up ten minutes before nine and was nervous as hell. This was her first tattoo. It was a pretty big project to tackle as your first tattoo, but once I started, there was no turning back.
I jokingly told her that as I got her settled to the chair. She had to face forward, straddling the chair. I told her we could play any music she’d like since we were the only two people in the tattoo shop. She was fine with my music. She brought a picture of the house with her and held it between her hands and stared.
I ended up turning down my music because I needed to know more.
“What’s the story here?” I asked. “Besides what it means.”
“Innocence,” she whispered.
I buzzed the needle a few times and told her to take a breath.
Then I went to work.
The first few times I touched her, I did it gently and gave her a chance to get used to the feeling. Your first tattoo was always the craziest. You never knew what to expect. Your body and mind would build things up more than they needed to do. Then that first wave hit with the shock of the pain and the ink.
“You good?” I asked her.
“Perfect,” she whispered.
So, I went to work for real.
I started with the outline.
“Tell me about the house,” I said.
“It’s where my life was perfect,” she said. “Before I lost myself to a dark world. The house was the only place I felt safe.”
“From what?” I asked.
She moved her left arm, and I saw some marks right at the bend of her arm. At her veins. They were scars. Scars from a dark time in her life.
“Shit,” I whispered. “I’m really sorry.”
“The house was my comfort for a long time. Kept me away from it all. Then my grandparents died. Within a few months of each other.” Hannah looked back at me. “That’s when I slipped again. This time…”
“It’s okay,” I said. “You’ll have this memory for the rest of your life. What it means. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”
Hannah looked forward again.
I kept my focus and got the outline done. When I stopped I stretched my back and then stood up. I peeled the silver rubber gloves off my hands and threw them out.
“Why don’t we take a five-minute break?” I asked. “You get up and walk a little. Then we’ll get right into coloring. If at any time you want to be done for good, let me know. We can schedule you again later.”
“Thanks,” she said.
I glanced at my phone and saw that Gonzo had called me back.
“I’m going to make a quick call,” I said. “Make yourself at home. There’s a fridge in the back. Grab a drink or something to eat.”
“I’m good,” she said.
I left the room and went out back. The sun blasted my face, and I felt like I was a vampire and that I was going to burst into flames.
I called Gonzo back.
“Zayne,” he said.
“Gonzo.”
“You called me first,” he said. “What’s up?”
“The car.”
“Yeah. What about?”
“Still an easy fix?”
“Well, nothing else happened to it overnight,” Gonzo said. “You know I don’t like doing this.”
“I know you don’t. That’s why I called to tell you…”
My voice stopped.
I thought about everything again.
The sight of her in my k
itchen. Messy hair. What she was wearing. The way she held the coffee mug. The way she looked at me. Her story made sense but not complete sense. There was more to Bella. And where the hell was she going to go?
“Zayne? You there, man?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“You called to tell me what?” Gonzo asked.
“Uh…I need you to forget about the car again.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“Not sure.”
“What are you up to over there, Zayne?” Gonzo asked.
I rubbed my chin. And I told the truth. “I’m not sure yet.”
8
BELLA
I took full advantage of the truck. I couldn’t just sit around an apartment and do nothing. So I got dressed, pulled my hair back in a sloppy ponytail, and did something I never thought I’d get a chance to do.
Have time alone, be unknown, and write.
That’s right…write.
I didn’t confess everything to Zayne. Not about Parker. Not about myself.
I always had the dream of being a writer and tried to pursue it a few times, but never really got too far. Then I met Parker, and he sort of stripped everything good away from me. His vision was us, a house, kids, and his career. He wanted to open his own accounting firm and worked hard to get there. I tagged along, always hoping someday I’d get a chance to chase my dream down. But I became to blissfully ignorant to life that I found myself unable to really write.
The idea struck me when I saw a notebook on the counter in Zayne’s kitchen. It was a blank notebook. Not a single page used. I opened a few drawers and found a pen.
I climbed into Zayne’s huge truck and drove to Hundred Falls Valley and found a little corner cafe. I walked into the place as an unknown. I ordered a coffee without anyone judging me. And then I took a seat near the front window and sipped coffee and started to write.
What did I write about?
Everything that was happening in my life. It ended up in more of a journal format than a story, but what did it matter? I was putting words to paper. I didn’t have to worry about the diner, customers, everyone that worked there.
Although, my phone did ring twice with Emilio calling me with his angry accent wanting to know why I hadn’t come in and what the hell I was trying to prove. I just ignored the call and the voicemails. I’d find another place to work once I was done traveling and found somewhere to settle.
I gazed around the cafe and then out the window at the small town.
What was wrong with here?
To me, nothing.
I could hang here, right?
I could get to know Zayne better. There was something about him that was just comfortable. Not to mention the way he ran right to my side to defend me when he thought Parker had hit me. That was really sexy. But it sort of showed his own personal story. There was so much more to the tattooed hot guy than what met the eye.
With one coffee down, I walked to the counter and ordered another, plus some snacks.
When I turned, I heard a tiny voice say cookie.
There was a little girl in a stroller with her hair pulled up to the top of her head with a black bow with white skulls on it. A woman was behind the stroller, reaching into her bag.
“Cookie,” the little girl said again.
“We’ll get you a cookie, Paisley. Relax.”
“Here,” I said. I unwrapped my cookie and broke a piece off. “Do you mind?”
The woman shook her head. “No. But you don’t have to.”
I crouched and gave the little girl a piece of the cookie. “There you go. Is it yummy?”
She had beautiful blue eyes and a big smile. She nodded as she took the cookie and started to eat.
“Thank you for that,” the woman said. “I’m scattered-brained this morning.” She reached into her purse, and her face paled. “…and I left my wallet at home. Great.”
“No worries,” I said. I took out a ten and handed it to her. “Is this enough?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Please, I insist. Good karma.”
“Karma?”
I smiled. “Just…it’s a weird day for me too. Hopefully we can rub off on each other and get back to normal.”
“Sure,” she said. “I’m Diem. This is my daughter, Paisley.”
“I love both your names. I’m Bella.”
“I love your name too,” Diem said.
“Hey, D,” the woman behind the counter said. “What can we get you?”
“You know that already, Meg,” Diem said.
“How’s Cass doing?”
“Just wonderful,” Diem said. “Heading over to the shop now. Another fun day in the world of tattoos, after he spent half the night in his recording studio playing around.”
I froze. “Wait. Tattoos?”
“Yeah,” Diem said. “Paisley’s father, Cass, he does tattoos over at St. Skin. Are you new in town?”
“Yeah, I am,” I said. “Funny as it is…I know Zayne.”
“Oh, Zayne,” Diem said. “I’ve met him a few times. He’s quiet. Keeps to himself. Are you his…”
Girlfriend? Fiancee? Wife? Fuck-buddy?
“No,” I said. “Just a friend. Visiting. I was sitting over there, sipping coffee and writing.”
“Oh yeah? Writing what?”
“Just writing. Enjoy the peace and quiet.”
“I wouldn’t know what that is,” Diem said as she motioned down to Paisley.
“She’s so quiet, though,” I said with a grin.
“Because she’s eating that piece of the cookie you gave her. And she knows she’s getting another one. You should be at the house around six when it’s time for dinner. You’d swear a carrot was poison.”
I laughed.
“Well, you go enjoy your peace,” Diem said. “And thank you for this. Can I meet you here tomorrow? To pay you back?”
“That’s fine,” I said.
“I’ll make Cass pay Zayne.”
“Fine,” I said. “It was really nice to meet you.”
“Diem, you’re all set,” Meg said from behind the counter.
“On the run,” Diem said. “The only way to live, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. I looked down at Paisley. “Nice to meet you too, Paisley.”
She smiled. Then she said, “Cookie?”
“Once we get in the car,” Diem said.
I took my seat again and smiled.
This was exactly what I had been looking for.
Newness. Calmness. The small town jibber-jabber stuff.
I bit my lip and started to write again.
My breakfast was coffee. My snack was coffee and two cookies. Well, to be fair, one and three-quarters cookie because of the piece I gave to Paisley.
I wore out my welcome, and when my stomach rumbled for food again, I found a place to get lunch before heading back to Zayne’s apartment.
I had no idea what time he planned on being home. I thought about texting him, but it wasn’t my business. But I could have texted about my car. I needed to know what was going on and how much it was going to be. My bank account only had so much in it. And there would be nothing else going in it anytime soon.
At least I knew my years of diner experience could be easily transferred and would pay off at any restaurant or diner or cafe in town, if need be.
Then again, if I was going to be bold enough to make a move and stay in town for more than a day or two, I needed to get out of Zayne’s apartment. I couldn’t stay for long. A night was one thing. Two nights was something else. But more than that…
My phone started to ring.
I was hoping it was Zayne.
It was Parker…
I sat on the counter, my feet dangling, swallowing hard, my mouth instantly dry. I hated that just by seeing his name that’s how my body reacted. I hated that my mind flashed with images of Parker. In bed. With Abby.
As I started to
shake, the call ended.
I didn’t answer.
I did not expect Parker to leave a voicemail.
But I also did not expect him to call right back again.
This time, I answered the call.
“Parker,” I said.
“Where the hell are you?” he bellowed into the phone.
“Can I help you with something?”
“This isn’t a game, Bella. You have us worried sick.”
“Us?”
“Come on,” Parker growled. “Don’t do this. Not now. Not like this.”
“Not like what, Parker? When did you plan on doing this? Huh?”
“I don’t want this conversation over a phone,” he said. “Come home. Where you belong. Before you end up hurting yourself or doing something stupid.”
“Like what?”
Like breaking down and ending up in the apartment of a guy who’s still a perfect stranger?
I looked around the apartment.
I hated when Parker was always right.
“Bella, where are you?”
“I’m somewhere safe,” I said. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Yeah? Well, I have Emilio calling me. Looking for you. You’ve been fired.”
“That’s okay.”
“That’s okay?!” Parker yelled. “So, this is who you are now? You just give up on everything? We have one little struggle…”
“A little struggle?” I asked. I laughed. “You were fucking my best friend!”
“Key word…were…okay? That’s why I wanted to talk to you. In person, Bella. Were. Things just got out of hand, okay?”
“That’s what you’re going to call it? Things got out of hand.”
“That’s exactly what fucking happened,” Parker said.
“Wait,” I said. “How are you yelling at me? You’re the one who screwed someone behind my back!”
“Just come home, Bella. Please. I’m begging you. Come home. Or tell me where you are. I’ll meet you somewhere. Anywhere.”
I bit my lip. I thought about it. I could have Parker meet me at the cafe. I knew we had a lot to talk about. This wasn’t just going to vanish on its own.
“Bella?” he asked. “Are you there?”
I looked around the apartment again.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I’m not coming home. And you’re not meeting me anywhere.”
“You realize I can track your phone, right?”