by Tracey Ward
“I should get to work,” he said, filling the silence I’d made. “I’m glad you’re home safe. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling like it wasn’t enough but it was all I had.
“Stop, it’s fine. Say hi to your family for me. Tell Kellen I’m pulling for him. Bye.”
“Bye.”
But he didn’t hear me. He’d already hung up.
Chapter Twenty
The moment Kellen walked into the shop, the air was sucked out of my lungs. He’d never been there before. I’d never seen him standing tall and broad in the doorway surrounded by artwork on the wall, some of it mine, and looking like everything I’d ever hoped for. He was a virgin, a blank canvas, and I was about to mark him with something that was mine. I doubted he understood the intimacy that held for me. The trust and the honor that it was to be his first tattoo, but it cut me to the quick. I was on pins and needles all morning thinking about it, worrying over the sketch I’d done for him. For his mom.
“Hey,” I said, smiling at him from behind the desk. “Welcome to Black Ink.”
He grinned as he looked around. “How have I never been here before?”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Laney and mom haven’t either.”
“But your dad has?”
“Oh yeah. He and Bryce talk college football for hours.”
“Bryce is your boss?”
“And mentor, yeah,” Bryce said coming up behind me. He offered Kellen his hand. “Nice to meet you, man. Good to see you up and around. You had our girl worried for a while.”
“Thanks, good to meet you too. Sorry I stole her away from you for so long.”
“You needed her more than we did.”
“Yeah, I did. Still do, but she’s abandoned me.”
“It was one night and people made you delicious soup,” I told him impatiently. “I’m sure you’ll get over it someday.”
“I doubt it, but I’ll try.”
“Are you ready to get your first tattoo?” I asked, sliding out from behind the desk.
“Definitely.”
I led him back to my station and patted the chair for him to sit. Then I pulled out the sketch I’d done. When I laid it out for him he stared at it for a long time. Then he traced his fingertips over it, finding his mom’s initials in the middle immediately.
“Were these in the drawing you sent me?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t see them.”
“It was small.”
“You remembered her name.”
“Madeline, yeah. Of course I did.”
“I only ever told you the one time and that was years ago.”
“I know,” I said easily, giving him a small grin, “but when you talk, I listen.”
He smiled slightly, his eyes on my face.
“Alright, where do you want it?” I asked, turning to business. Trying to shake him off.
“Where do you think I should put it?”
“That’s up to you. It’s your tat, it’s your body.”
He didn’t hesitate. “My chest. Over my heart.”
I nodded in understanding, keeping my mouth shut. He wasn’t having it.
“That’s where you got your first, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“Can I see it?”
I chuckled, arranging my equipment and avoiding his eyes. “You’ve seen it plenty of times.”
“Never up close. There’s never been a chance to really look at it.”
I sat forward and pulled slightly at the hem of my tank top until it dipped below the tattoo. Kellen leaned in close to examine it. His breath brushed against my skin giving me shivers and I silently begged him not to touch me. Not to trace it the way he had years ago. Luckily, he kept his hands to himself.
“It’s really good. Bryce did that?”
“Yeah,” I said, letting my shirt snap back into place. “He did it on my eighteenth birthday.”
“I should have come with you.”
I shrugged. “You were busy with Laney stuff.”
“Yeah, but it was your birthday. And a big one.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“It didn’t then,” I snapped, getting annoyed with the conversation.
“Yeah, it did,” he insisted. “But I was caught up in other shit and I couldn’t get out.”
“Other shit as in my sister.”
“Among other things. I was on a track—”
“On a bullet train,” I said, quoting him from the day in the park. The last day before the accident.
“And I didn’t know how to get off.”
I looked at him long and hard. “What about now? Now where are you?”
He met my eyes unflinching. “Now I’m pulling the e-brake.”
The air had that thick feeling it got when he was around. Whenever he got close or his eyes were on me for too long. I felt like I was breathing thin air, too high up to function right or think straight. The world slowed and blurred around the edges, going soft focus and strange.
“Kellen,” I said slowly, taking a deep breath, “what are we talking about here?”
“Tattoos and trains. That’s it.”
“Really? Cause it seems like a lot more.”
“Judging from the look on your face you can’t handle more, so for now it’s tattoos and trains.”
“What look on my face?”
“The one that says you’re scared as shit of what I’m saying to you.”
I shook my head faintly. “I’m not scared. I’m worried.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going through a lot right now. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Maybe now is not a great time for big decisions or canceling plans.”
“Better now than when it’s too late.”
“Kel—“
He leaned forward in the seat until our faces were nearly touching. Until his breath was mine and his eyes were indigo blue darkness pulling me forward and dragging me into him.
“Jenna, I’ve never been so clear in all my life. I’ve never been so sure about the things I want than I am right now.”
I blinked, telling myself to pull away. What I did was lean closer.
“What do you want?”
His eyes roamed my face, taking in every inch of my skin, hair and bones. He saw me down to the blood in my veins as it beat through my heart. He saw it clench and ache. Shutter with fear and anticipation.
He leaned back, sitting fully laid out in the chair, his eyes still with me. “For now, I want a tattoo.”
I sat back slowly, nodding my head.
“You got it.”
I didn’t know what was on his mind, but I had an idea. I also knew it wasn’t my business and it wasn’t anything I could handle at the moment. What I needed to do was get into this tattoo. To get lost in the focus of it the way I always did. I would find that center where I was me and strong and sure, unwavering in everything I did. It didn’t matter that it was Kellen and I repeated that to myself in my head five times when he took off his shirt and I stared down at the smooth planes of his body. He was smaller than usual, but he was still a man. He was still larger than the average bear and as I pressed the drawing over his soft, brown skin, I reminded myself five more times that it didn’t matter that this was Kellen. It was just another tattoo.
“Put your arm out here,” I said, pulling his arm away from his body so I could get closer to his torso. “Not too far. You don’t want to stretch your skin weird because the tattoo will follow it.”
“Around you waist like this?”
His arm went around me and pinned my body in tight against his side. I nodded in agreement, avoiding his eyes.
“Yeah, perfect.”
He looked at the ceiling as I started to work. He didn’t speak to me and I didn’t feel the need to speak to him either. I pinpointed my world to that section of
his body that was perfect skin and hard muscle. I ignored the feel of being tucked in close to his side. I ignored his breathes as they rose and fell inside his chest under my fingers. I ignored the sound of the machine and the feel of my shirt rising in the back when I leaned forward over my work.
I tried to ignore his hand on the arm wrapped around me as his fingers brushed that bare skin. I tried to ignore the surprised tremor it sent through me. The firmer press of his hand in response. The claiming of more of my flesh under his, his heat pressing into my spine through his palm. I wanted to ignore the slow circles he drew on my skin with his fingertips.
I never looked away from the tattoo and I never felt the weight of his eyes on me. Only his palm on my skin and the hum of the machine in my hand. It went on that way for hours.
When I was done, I pulled away slowly.
“It’s finished.”
He sat up, releasing me as he went to the mirror nearby. I stood beside him, feeling a little shaky but eagerly watching his expression through the reflection. I felt like I did the day I’d I gave him that painting only a million times worse. I thought I’d vomit then. I was about to pee my pants now.
“Whoa.” He turned to look at me, his depthless eyes full of emotion. “Jen, it’s better than I expected. I knew you had skills but holy shit. This is…” he looked back in the mirror, “this is just, it’s beyond what I expected. It’s alive.”
I looked in the mirror with him, grinning as I admired my work. “I wanted it to have a somber feel but also sections bathed in light. I kind of got the feeling that that’s how you see her. Your mom. There were dark corners, ones you didn’t understand and parts that still hurt, but mostly when you think of her it’s her life and light. It’s her being your mom and she was good at that. That part makes you happy.”
“How do you know all of that?” he murmured. His eyes were fixed on mine in the mirror.
I met his stare head on. “Because, Kel, even when you don’t talk, I still listen.”
He shook his head, his eyes shining as he looked back to the cross on his chest. He looked sturdier to me now. He looked stronger than he had in days and I don’t know if the tattoo made him seem that way or if the feel of his hands on my skin had made me weaker and he was strong in comparison. Either way, he looked more like Kellen than he had in weeks and I was grateful to be standing beside him seeing it. I was happy to help build my friend back.
“So, here’s a sheet on taking care of it,” I said as I handed him a print off of instructions.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. My treat. I was happy to pop your cherry.”
“No way. I’m paying you for this. This is too good for a freebie.”
“You wouldn’t charge me for legal advice. This is no different.”
“It’s completely different. If you ask me legal advice, you pick my brain. That’s it. You used ink and equipment. At least let me pay for that.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“If I don’t pay for it does it come out of your pocket?”
“No,” I lied.
“Yes!” Bryce called from up front.
Kellen shot me a quick grin before making a dash for the front of the store. I chased after him but I was too late. He was fast for a supposed cripple.
“Tattoo this size, how much would you charge?” Kellen asked Bryce.
He examined it slowly, his eyes widening in appreciation. “How long did that take?”
“Not long,” I said vaguely.
Kellen glanced at the clock. “Almost two hours.”
“$300,” Bryce told him.
“Really?” Kellen asked as he fished out his wallet. He handed Bryce a card which he happily swiped. “Damn, Nonpareil. $150 an hour? You’re charging lawyer rates right there.”
I smiled. “I’m worth every penny.”
“Yes you are. And you’ve got a client for life. No one else is tattooing me but you.”
“You’re going to get more?”
Kellen laughed as he signed his receipt. “This was only the beginning. I’ll be back for sure.” He handed the pen back to Bryce then held out his hand. “Bryce, nice to meet you, man. You’ve got an amazing shop here.”
“It’s built by the talent.”
“You’ve got that in spades.” Kellen turned to me, still smiling. His eyes were bright and brilliantly happy and I tried to remember the last time I’d seen him look that way. Too long, that was for sure. “Jenna, thank you. This was exactly what I needed.”
He came to stand in front of me, pressing his left hand to the side of my face and smiling affectionately at me. “Vous etes toujours ce don’t j’ai besoin.”
He kissed me briefly on the cheek before leaving. When he was gone, I glanced at Bryce to find him smirking at me.
I immediately shook my head. “No.”
“I like him. He makes you blush and be all girly.”
“Shut up.”
“See, now he’s gone and you’re you again.”
“I’m always me.”
“You’re a different you when he’s around.”
“And that doesn’t seem like a bad thing to you?”
“Meh. Who knows? Maybe you’re a better you when you’re with him. I’m a better me when I’m with my wife.”
“He’s trouble that way. Friends I can do with him, it’s what we’ve always been. Anything else and there’s a whole lot of nothing.”
“Didn’t sound like nothing just now. What did he say to you? What language was that?”
“French,” I said, feeling suddenly tired.
“And what did your boy say to you in French while looking deep into your eyes?”
“He said, ‘You’re always what I need.’”
Bryce looked at me with lifted eyebrows.
“Shut up,” I snapped again.
Chapter Twenty-One
I didn’t hear from Kellen for over a week after that. I texted him once to see how he was feeling, how his tattoo was doing, but I didn’t get an answer. I heard from my dad a few times and once from Laney. Kellen was eager to get out of the house and get back to his apartment but they were fighting him tooth and nail on it. Laney asked me for help convincing him to stay but I told her I couldn’t change his mind any more than she could. Besides, I wasn’t sure he shouldn’t go back to his apartment. It was when I came down for dinner with the family at the end of that week that I saw what the problem really was.
“I don’t know why, but I hate it.”
Kellen’s voice drifted out to me in the foyer the second I entered my parent’s house. I sighed inside, debating heading right back out the door. His annoyed tone was a far cry from the happy contentment I’d last heard from him over his tattoo. I wondered briefly how that had gone over. I was surprised I hadn’t heard from Laney about it. At the very least mom should have lost her shit at me for marking him with ‘graffiti’.
“You liked it well enough in the show room,” Laney complained.
“I don’t remember that.”
“Isn’t that convenient?”
“For me? Not really,” Kellen replied hotly. “I don’t remember everything, Lane. That’s pretty annoying.”
“Well, I’ll help you remember. This couch? You loved it.”
“I doubt it seeing as I hate it now.”
“You have to be kidding me! It’s already delivered!”
“We can take it back. Besides, why was it delivered here? We don’t have a house yet?”
There was silence. I could picture Laney’s face as it drug out. Kellen wasn’t going to like what she said next.
“I figured we’d put the house thing on old while you recovered. We don’t know what your work situation will be like or how much house we can afford. Mom and dad agreed that we could live here in the meantime.”
Kellen was on his feet. I watched him launch himself off the couch through the slice of living room I could see from the entryway. His face was blocked but his shoulde
rs were high and tense. His hands clenched.
“Seriously? No, Laney. Absolutely not, no.”
“Then where are we supposed to live?” she demanded, getting angry. “I gave up my apartment. I’m out at the end of the month because I thought we were getting a place. What am I supposed to do? Move in with you in your tiny apartment?”
“No.”
“No? Just no? Okay, I was joking because that place is a shit hole and I will not live there, but you’re serious aren’t you? You won’t let me, your homeless fiancé, move in with you?”
“You’re hardly homeless, princess. You live in a palace.”
“Oh don’t get like this again. Yes, we have money. I’m sooooo sorry, Kellen. How dare we be well off?!”
“Your dad is well off. You don’t have a job. Your income is nothing.”
“I’ve been going to school!”
“To do what? Become your mother?”
“You should be so lucky.”
“Really? ‘Cause being married to your mom is kind of my worst fucking nightmare.”
“Kellen!” she exclaimed, appalled.
“Take the couch back.”
“No.”
“Then pay for it yourself.”
“What is with you lately? Ever since you got back here you’ve been nothing but angry and mean.”
“I’m not mean, Laney, I’m just not letting you have your way on everything anymore. If that’s a problem for you, then we should take care of that.”
There was another silence and I worried I would be caught in my blatant eavesdropping. But then I saw Laney cross the room to stand in front of him, pushing in close. He backed up a step but she claimed it. They were both framed in the section of living room visible from where I stood and as she ran her hands over his stomach, I worried what was about to happen was nothing I wanted to see.
“Take care of it?” Laney purred. Her hands pushed up on his shirt, gathering it over his stomach. “Do you want me to take care of it, Kellen? It hasn’t been taken care of since you woke up. Maybe that’s why you’re so grouchy.”