Then and now (Edge Of Retaliation, #3)

by Jewel, Bella

  I just don’t know what to do about it at this point.

  “Yeah,” Callie murmurs, no doubt having the same thought as me. “You know what, I think we need a break. Come over to my place tomorrow night, after work, and we’ll have a few drinks. Just me and you. We’ll lock the rest of the world out.”

  I nod, grinning. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll get Tanner in here. I’ll see you later?”

  “See you, honey.”

  When she’s gone, I busy myself preparing my station and then doing a few small client tattoos that come in, like butterflies and flowers. When I’ve finished up the last one for a few hours, I clean up and look over to Alarick, who came in not long after Callie left. He’s been doing a huge back piece and hasn’t stopped. He must be exhausted.

  “I’m going to grab a coffee and some lunch,” I say to him. “You want?”

  “Yeah,” he murmurs, his arm flexing as he keeps shading.

  “Okay.”

  I walk out and to the café which is only next door. It’s super convenient, especially on busy days. We can grab our coffees and lunch, or even breakfast. Occasionally dinner if there is a big job in. It’s handy, and it’s right there, so I figure it’s safe enough to walk just next door. I can still see the shop window standing out front of the café.

  I’m wrong. Of course.

  The moment I reach the café, a hand curls around my arm and I’m jerked to the side of the building so quickly I can’t even scream. My body is slammed against the wall and a hand clamps over my mouth. A man I’ve never seen before is standing in front of me, wearing a dark hoodie and sunglasses so I can’t see his face. A gun is pressed to my belly, and his other hand is covering my mouth.

  “Don’t fuckin’ move.”

  Oh god.

  Are they watching this closely that they jumped on the chance for me to take one step out and they’re on me?

  I’m scared. I can’t fight, because if I do, he’s just as likely to shoot me and walk away, leaving me here in the hustle and bustle to be found, dead on the street. He’s got me at a disadvantage, and he knows it.

  My heart starts to race, and my palms sweat as I realize that I’m screwed. He’s going to walk out of here with me and nobody will know. Well, Alarick will know a few minutes after I’m gone, but it’ll be too late by then.

  God dammit.

  Why is this happening?

  “Fuckin’ step away from her, or I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains all over this pathway.”

  Alarick’s voice has us both whipping our heads around to see him standing at the end of the building, gun pointed right at the other guy’s head, eyes fierce and angry. The guy hesitates, for a brief second, and then lets me go and runs, just like he did when he got busted with Callie. Whoever it is that has the crappy job of getting hold of us apparently isn’t that good at it.

  “You okay?” Alarick asks, walking over and doing a quick once over of me.

  “Yeah,” I say, my voice shaky. “He came out of nowhere.”

  “Worse than I thought, these guys want you and they’re gettin’ ballsy in their attempts.”

  “H-h-h-how did you know he took me?” I ask, my voice still shaking.

  “As soon as you walked out, I remembered I promised Tatum I’d watch you. Figured I’d come and check, lucky for you I did.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, taking a step in his direction on trembling legs.

  “No problem. Goin’ to have to get more eyes on the place. I’ll work it out. Let’s get back to work.”

  We both walk back to the shop, abandoning our lunch, and Alarick peers around as we move, his eyes scanning over everything, every car, every person, every shop. He’s looking for them, but I don’t think he’s going to find them, hell, we don’t even know who we’re looking for at this point.

  We don’t know what his men look like.

  “Goin’ to call my brothers around here, get them to check things out,” he says sitting down and getting back to the tattoo he was doing before he came to save my ass. “Get a watch put on you, extra security.”

  “I just ...” I say, hesitating as I sit on my chair. “I don’t get it.”

  “Not up to you to get it. Those men are on a mission and they’re goin’ to complete that mission to make a point.”

  “Because we went to the cops?”

  Alarick nods, starting up his gun and getting back to work. “Let me explain somethin’ to you. Men like that, they have a reputation to uphold. Know, because I’ve been there, I am there. You bring a group like that down, and they let you get away with it, people notice. They let you go, they start openin’ the doors to everyone messin’ with them. No, they need to make a point, and that point is that nobody fucks with them.”

  Makes sense.

  It really does.

  “How do we get out of it then, if they’re not going to ever let it go?”

  Alarick pauses and looks up at me. His look says everything. He doesn’t need to say the words, he doesn’t need to explain any further, I know exactly what his look is saying.

  The only way to get out of it ...

  Is to kill them.

  “YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE doin’ here?” Tanner asks, pulling his shirt up and over his head, and then lying on the table, facing me, his big chest on display.

  I can see why Callie finds it so hard not to stare at him, to be obsessed with him, to want him the way she does. He’s gorgeous, but not only that, he’s masculine and he’s strong. He’s a powerful man, and he knows it. He carries it with pride.

  “Yes,” I say to him. “Are you sure you want this?”

  “Callie wants me to have it.”

  “It’s not Callie’s body,” I say, wiping the blank spot over his heart where I’m going to put the tattoo I designed.

  “Never thought to get somethin’ for Celia, I’m not against it.”

  “Good, because once it’s on here, it isn’t coming off. Do you want to see it?”

  He shakes his head. “No, this is her thing. Let her do it.”

  I place the template on and transfer the ink onto his skin, giving me a clear outline of the gorgeous design with Celia’s name in it. I made this one more masculine, incorporating a cross, and some unique patterns. It’s really great, and I’m super proud of it. I know it meant a lot to Callie to get this done for Tanner.

  “I didn’t think you would let her do it,” I say, waving my hand over his chest to dry the ink so I can get started.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before going back to stare at the pictures on the walls that line the entire shop.

  Pictures of ink, and designs, and certificates.

  “You know why,” I say, loading my tattoo gun. “You two aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye.”

  “Do you expect that we would?”

  I shake my head. “No, no I don’t expect that. I know you’re angry at her, but that’s because you don’t understand her. Not really. She did what she had to do. You have no idea what it’s like to live Callie’s life.”

  “Enlighten me,” he murmurs, putting his hands by his side as I start the gun up, dipping it in ink.

  I bring it to his skin, leaning against him, feeling like I’m getting way too close for comfort with someone that means so much to Callie, but I don’t really have a choice.

  “She never lived. What happened with Celia happened at such a young age. She never got to experience life, or fun, or parties, or boys, or anything that we all got to enjoy growing up. She lived with pain, and trauma, and then she got out and found more pain, and more trauma. She trusted people, and those people broke her, yet she still stuck around, she still wanted to fix things. You need to understand what that’s like. To live with those feelings every single day.”

  “She didn’t have to leave without sayin’ goodbye.”

  “No,” I say, steadying my hand to do the outline, “she didn’t. But she was scared. Her whole w
orld was spinning. Imagine, please, for one second, that you’re her. She wanted to be with you, but she knew your family would never accept her. She knew you would never accept her. She was afraid and she was confused. She ran, and she shouldn’t have done that, but if you can honestly say you don’t understand it, then you’re lying to yourself.”

  He goes silent for a moment, then says, “It fuckin’ broke me. Do you understand? It broke me when I realized she was gone. Everythin’ that had happened, and she left it all hanging, with no closure. I know what I did to her, I know what she lived through, I just didn’t expect her to leave without telling me.”

  “She made a mistake, Tanner. We’re humans, we all make them. She just needed to breathe again, to have fun, to live. God, the girl has never even been on a real date with someone she loves, she’s never been on a vacation, never ridden on a horse or surfed waves, she’s never been hiking or to a drive in. Don’t you understand? She has never been free. Never.”

  “Is she free now?” Tanner asks.

  I shake my head. “No, she’s not. She was finally getting somewhere, but now this has come along. She still doesn’t know how to breathe, and she deserves to.”

  “She’s got a boyfriend?”

  “Jake? No. He’s not. She’s seeing him, but ...”

  I trail off, not sure I should go on. Callie trusts me, and I don’t want to break her trust, but at the same time I don’t want her ruining the rest of her life by not being honest with herself, or those around her. She’s in love with Tanner, every single time she looks at him, her eyes change, her face changes, and I know her heart belongs to him, even if it is complicated.

  “But what?” Tanner urges, when I don’t go on.

  “But her heart doesn’t belong to him. She’s dated a few men, but none of them last. That’s because she only has space for one person and that person just brought another woman into her home and is flaunting it in her face just to get back at her. She doesn’t deserve that.”

  He goes silent, for so long I wonder if I’ve really gone and put my foot in it.

  “I never brought Madeline in to hurt her. I didn’t ...”

  “You didn’t realize she is still in love with you? Surely, you’re not that simple, Tanner.”

  “She left me, Jo. Would you think someone loved you if they just upped and left?”

  He makes a point. I wouldn’t. I get where he’s coming from.

  “No, you’re right, I wouldn’t. But Callie ... She’s different. She was so scared of her love for you, I mean seriously, sit back and look at it. She killed your sister, even if it wasn’t intentional, she is scared of living every day with that hanging over her head.”

  “I don’t blame her, not anymore.”

  “But your family have an issue with it, and like you told her, deep down, you are always going to see her as the girl who killed Celia. She’s never going to escape that. She deserves to.”

  “I don’t see her like that, not anymore,” he tells me. “I’ve thought a lot about it, more than you could begin to imagine, and accidents happen. They do. Every single fuckin’ day. What happened to Callie was bad timing, but if it wasn’t her, it would have been someone else. It wasn’t her fault.”

  “You should have told her that,” I tell him, wiping the ink from his skin and then continuing.

  “I did.”

  “Well, maybe you should have made her believe it.”

  He doesn’t say anything, he just turns his head to the side and stares at the pictures again, zoning out.

  I know the conversation is over, so I busy myself working on his tattoo. An hour and a half into it, Callie comes into the shop. She’s nervous about the whole thing, even though it was her idea. She’s scared and unsure how to approach Tanner, or what to do to make him feel better on this day, but the fact that she’s made an effort says everything.

  “How’s it going?” she asks, stopping by the table and glancing down at Tanner, who turns his head to look up at her.

  “It’s going well,” I tell her. “It looks great.”

  She peers down at the tattoo, and her eyes go red, filling with unshed tears. “It’s beautiful,” she says, her voice thick. “Wow, Jo, it’s utterly perfect.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty proud of it.” I grin at her.

  “If she was here, she would love it,” Callie says, more to herself than anything.

  “We had a tradition,” Tanner says, suddenly speaking out of the blue. Callie looks over to him, and he keeps talking. “Every birthday she insisted we go to the homeless shelters with cupcakes. She wanted to share her joy with those less fortunate. She was a giver like that. So we’d spend an entire day baking all these cupcakes, and then we’d go and hand them out. They loved her for it, and that made her so fuckin’ special.”

  Callie smiles, a small, but genuine smile. “She sounds like she was a truly wonderful person.”

  Tanner nods. “She was. Fuckin’ incredible.”

  “She was lucky to have such a great family.”

  Before Tanner can answer, Madeline comes into the shop, giving Callie and I a small smile before walking over and taking Tanner’s hand, then leaning down to kiss him. Callie looks away, her face pained. I feel for her, so much so I just want to scream because I know how much she’s hurting right now.

  “It looks amazing, babe,” Madeline says, leaning over to look.

  Tanner glances at Callie, and she locks eyes with him, and god damn, so much passes between them it makes my heart ache. I wish they’d get the chance to talk, to just be together and get this all out in the open. It’s clear they both need it.

  “I should go,” Callie says, her voice soft. She stares down at the tattoo, and murmurs, “Happy birthday, Celia.”

  Then she turns and leaves.

  Dammit.

  Why can’t this just get easier?

  Fucking why?

  18

  CALLIE

  Ugh.

  I can’t ice cupcakes to save my damned life. I didn’t learn these life skills, and I can’t even blame prison for being the reason I can’t—it’s mostly because my mother wasn’t the motherly type and she didn’t teach me a damned thing about baking. I’ve figured out the cake part, that much I’m okay at, but when it comes to icing ... Nope.

  “Dammit!” I snap, throwing the piping bag across the kitchen.

  I’ve been in here for three hours baking this mass amount of cupcakes, and now it seems like I’ll never get them done because I can’t ice the damn things. Frustration bubbles in my chest and I make an angry sound as I lean against the counter and exhale.

  Breathe. You’ve got this.

  I don’t even know why I’m trying to do something so nice for Tanner when he’s been nothing but a dick to me since he got here. It’s not really for Tanner, anyway. It’s for me. It’s for Celia. It’s to celebrate a life cut short.

  “Not made for icing, hey?”

  I look up and see Ethan walking into my apartment. I’m shocked, to say the least. I’ve been wanting to talk to him for days, but he’s been avoiding me. To see him here is quite the surprise.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, adjusting a few cupcakes.

  “My turn to hang with you while the others go searching for information. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

  I glance at him, say nothing, and lean down to pick up the piping bag. I stuff it full of icing again and am about to attempt to put it on another cupcake when Ethan says, “No no no. Stop. You’re going to ruin them.”

  He walks over, taking the bag from my hand and tipping the icing out. He stares at the icing, scrunches his nose up and says, “What is this?”

  “It’s icing.”

  “It’s not icing. It’s a mess, is what it is.”

  I huff. “It’s what the recipe said.”

  “Never follow recipes, they lie. Here, watch out.”

  I move and he cleans the bowl of my terrible icing and starts again, mixing and blending, until he’s
presented with the nicest damn icing I’ve seen. Thick and creamy, it’s perfection. Damn him. I’m being shown up by a damn man. That’s not something to be pleased about.

  “How do you know how to make icing?” I ask him, watching as he fills the bag with the pale pink icing and starts swirling it onto the cupcakes.

  “I’ve been to a lot of homes, I learned. But Celia taught me well. I used to help her bake each year. I’m guessing that’s what you’re doing here?”

  “Yeah,” I murmur. “Not doing a great job at it.”

  “It’s the thought that counts,” he says, narrowing his eyes as he continues to ice the cupcakes.

  “Did you used to go and hand them out with her?” I ask him.

  “We all did. She loved it, but it was seeing how happy it made the homeless families that really got me. She brought light into their lives, a speck of joy in an otherwise dull world. She had that affect.”

  “I wish I knew her,” I say softly. “I wish I was making these because I remembered what she was like ...”

  “Don’t matter if you knew her or not, you’re doing it for her and that’s all that matters. Since she died, her birthdays have been painful and avoided. You’re making it so that isn’t the case. That’s something else.”

  I smile, because that means a lot, it really does.

  I stare at Ethan, and I wish I could tell him how much I’ve missed him, how many times I’ve wished I could call and talk to him, to hear his voice, to tell him my problems, to hear his problems, to have the friendship back that I left behind.

  “How have things been with you?” I dare to ask, because he’s here and I haven’t had a chance to make conversation with him since he’s been here, and ... I don’t know. I need to.

  “I’ve been good,” he tells me, still working on the cupcakes. “Grab those decorations and follow behind me.”

  I grab the flower decorations I picked up and start putting them on the completed cupcakes. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Yeah,” he answers, “been seeing her for about a year. Her name is Raven.”