Pieces of Summer (A stand-alone novel)(89)

I laugh while shaking my head, and she winks at me as I shut the door and round the truck to my side. After getting in and heading down the road, we pass the fire trucks that aren’t in any hurry to go put out the flames. I’m guessing they want that house to completely burn as much as I do.

I reach over and grab Mika’s hand, lacing our fingers together as I drive toward her house. I only let go when I have to start shifting gears.

We pass by the bowling alley, and I watch as her grin spreads. I’ve made two changes since she signed it over to me. One change was having her name added so that we’re both owners—just like we’d always said we’d do. The other change is that horrible f*cking name she picked out to replace the corny one we chose as kids.

The corny name is now proudly displayed: Endless Summer. And two f*cking bald eagles greet you at the door.

When we reach her house, she hops out first, and I slowly get out, looking up at the home that changed my life. It’s only right we stay here. It only makes sense that this is where we finally get our second beginning.

Mika is watching me when my eyes come down, and she cocks her head.

“Sorry. Just having a moment.”

“As long as that moment isn’t considering doing the same thing to this house, then we’re cool. Take all the time you need,” she says, smiling over at me.

Two days ago, she had a small episode after someone messed up the price at the restaurant and tried to change the tab. It wasn’t a huge deal, but plenty of people called her crazy. Not that I care. I’ve been called worse around here.

But I finally got a chance to prove to Mika that I don’t care, because I raised as much hell as she did. It really was a stupid thing to do, after all. I’d have bitched even if the numbers changing didn’t affect her.

One day, there will be a bigger episode. Dr. Stein has warned us both that with Mika’s emotions unleashed, it makes it much more likely for the agitated moments to make her more irrational.

I’d rather see a whole lot of crazy than a cold and indifferent shell of her. But I’ve also decided to put my own plan into action.

I move toward her, and she turns and walks in, leading the way. Hunter walks by with half a sandwich hanging from his mouth as he texts a mile a minute.

“Is it ready?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles with the sandwich still in his mouth and his attention still on his phone.

“Is what ready?” Mika asks.

“This way, and I’ll show you,” I tell her, tugging at her hand.

Aidan is passed out on the couch after just flying back in today from a shoot somewhere across the country. Mika pauses at his side and pulls out a marker from her pocket. I have no idea why she’s carrying around a marker.

After she draws a 1920’s handlebars mustache on him, she puts the marker away like nothing happened and follows behind me. When we reach the old room that was used for storage, I push the door open and flip on the light.

I end up biting back a laugh when confusion covers her face.

“You… put a chair in here… with your tattoo stuff. This is my surprise?” she asks, turning to face me.

I smile while walking her toward the chair, and I move aside some of the sterilized packs.

“I think I’ve found a solution to your biggest concern,” I tell her, watching her face grow even more confused.

“I don’t think I understand…”

“Sit down.”

She does as I say without protest, completely trusting me, and I get my equipment ready in record time. I’ve done a few trial runs to make sure I can set up as fast as possible.

When I push her shirt up, she watches me. She doesn’t try to hide her scars from me anymore, even though I can tell she hates it when I look at them. She tenses when I brush my fingers over a few scars, but she doesn’t bat my hands away.

After I clean the section, I pull out a pre-made stencil I drew up, and press it to her skin. After temporary ink settles in, I remove the stencil and let her see the small eagle imprint.

“What are you doing?” she asks as I pick up the gun.

There will be times where I have to free hand this, considering how quickly an attack hits. I’m good at free-handing though, so I’m not worried.

“Giving you a tattoo,” I tell her as the gun starts up.

She doesn’t try to stop me, which is one of the many things I’ve always loved about her. Mika is spontaneous, and she trusts me.

When the gun makes contact, she doesn’t even flinch, even though the skin has to be tender. I take my time, going over the outline, permanently marking her skin. When I get done with the outline, I turn off the gun and look up at her.

“Feel that?” I ask her.

“Um… Yeah. I’m not numb.”

I laugh lightly while dabbing away the excess ink and blood.

“I mean do you feel what it does? It’s not as painful as cutting, but I think this could work for the worst times. To relieve the pressure, you know?”

Her eyes water as she stares at me, and I half wonder if I’ve f*cked up by bringing this up. She swallows audibly then clears her throat.

“Yeah. I think it would work,” she says in a rasp whisper as a tear falls from her eye.

I smile at her before changing out the ink, but she catches my hand before I can resume the process.