Full Contact (Redemption #3)(21)
And he did.
But too late.
“Tag…” My voice is nothing more than a whisper. Too much emotion. Too many bad memories. Too much pain resurfacing tonight.
“Oh God. I didn’t think.” Tag reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I didn’t mean to bring it all back. I’m just messed up right now. Fucking messed up.”
“Join the club.” A wave of sadness sweeps over me, not just for the part of me I lost that night, but because for a moment Ray found her, and now she’s lost again.
Chapter 7
And whoosh, he is gone
Four days after the shooting, the feds finally remove the police tape from Rabid Ink and let us back into the studio. Everything has been destroyed—workstations, chairs, tables, equipment…even the paintings on the walls.
Christos, Rose, Duncan, and I visit Slim, who has been discharged from the hospital. The bullets didn’t hit any major arteries, and he is already up and around, although he can’t move his left arm very well. Unfortunately, the shop reopening might be delayed because of issues with his insurance company. Concerned about losing clients, he asks us to find temporary chairs in other shops until he can rebuild, and, if possible, to stay together. Easier said than done. Four tattoo artists, no equipment, and a receptionist with an attitude. Not a recipe for success.
And neither is trying to forget about Ray.
Two kisses and I can’t get him out of my mind. Two kisses and he is burned into my skin. At night, I dream about him. During the day, I hear his voice in every café and on every street corner. Alone in my bed, I fantasize about his hands on my body, his deep voice rumbling against my chest. Then I pull out my vibrator and make the fantasy real. And when I climax, I moan his name.
Always practical, Jess asks for her twenty dollars because she won the bet, then tells me to get over him. She points out that I barely knew him; I don’t know where he lives or what he drives or whether he shares my addiction to potato chips. She thinks my inability to move on is a result of crushing on Ray too long before we met. I tell her she would know since she’s been crushing after Tag for longer than that. We have a fight.
Of course, our fights never last long. By way of making amends, she offers to set me up with her brother’s best friend’s cousin’s sister’s ex. I tell her there is something about Ray that makes my heart pound and my knees weak, and until I figure out what it is, her brother’s best friend’s cousin’s sister’s ex will have to wait. Then I invite her to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner because I know Tag will be there. I can make amends too.
Mom and Dad are delighted to see Jess. Since she practically lived at our house after we met, they have adopted her as a surrogate daughter. After a warm greeting for Jess, Mom turns to me.
“Oh, Sia.” Mom sighs and gives me a perfunctory hug as she switches to her admonishing tone. “Did you have to wear leather? And those piercings?”
“This is how I’ve dressed for years, Mom. I’m not going to change.”
She fiddles with her pearls and gives me a resigned look. “You used to dress so pretty, all those floaty dresses and skirts.” She runs her hand along the pink streak in my hair. “Why do you do this? You have such beautiful hair.”
“Mom, please. Can we not talk about my appearance and just have a nice dinner?”
Mom and Dad don’t know about what happened at the party. Tag and I kept it a secret from everyone except Jess, who was at the hospital that night with problems of her own. So they don’t know why I stopped painting or why I threw away everything that reminded me of the girl I used to be. They don’t know why I needed a fresh start, a new me, Sia the tat artist who has no past and has suffered no pain. All they know is one night after a football game, Tag went to a party, fell out a window and dislocated his shoulder, and after that he couldn’t fight anymore at Redemption.
“Sorry, darling. Sometimes I just miss the way you used to be.” Her brow wrinkles and I know she’s trying to think of a way to make up for her outburst. “You’ve added butterflies.” She gestures to my shoulder. “Well…they’re nicer than the thorns.” Then her gaze travels upward, and her mouth tightens when she looks at my ears. “You have some new…piercings too. I like the little cross.”
My ears and other places too indelicate to mention.
I smile because I know she’s trying, and except for the changes in my appearance and my new career, we usually get along fine.
“Mom, leave her alone.” Tag joins us from the kitchen, a scowl on his face. “Doesn’t matter what she wears or how she looks; she’s still our Sia.”
I shoot him a grateful look, and Jess sighs and stares longingly at Tag. She always envied me having an older brother, although I told her many times, it wasn’t all it’s cut out to be.
Dad and Tag discuss the mortgage situation; in other words, Tag tries to give Dad money and Dad refuses to take it, while Jess and I help Mom set the table. Mom is very particular about the dinner table—linen tablecloth, expensive silverware, china plates. Everything properly arranged and in its place. Although we never had a lot of money growing up, she always bought the best we could afford. The pearls were my parents’ only extravagance, a gift for Mom the day I was born.
Mom relaxes over dinner and gets us up to speed on the neighborhood gossip. She doesn’t talk about her search for a new job as a florist, and I don’t ask. I’ve already put an envelope with as much cash as I can afford in her purse, knowing she’ll call me at home later and refuse to take it. But in the end she’ll have no choice because they don’t want to lose their house.