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Authors: Tess Oliver

BOOK: Freefall
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“Speaking,” I said hesitantly, figuring I’d just gotten stuck listening to some sales pitch.

“My name’s Hammond and I need a tattoo, and my artist told me you were the best in town.”

“Don’t know about that. What kind of tattoo are you looking to get?”

“Actually, it’s not for me personally. It’s for my girlfriend.”

“Does she know about this tattoo or are you arranging it as a surprise?”

“Uh, no. She knows. But I need you to do the tattoo after hours? Ginny told me your shop is open during the day for regular business hours.”

“Yeah, it keeps the
regret
tattoos out of my shop. You have to make an appointment. That way people have time to change their mind.” I paused for a second, not completely sure what the guy was talking about. “What do you mean by after hours?”

“After the shop closes.”

This just got weirder. “Sorry, man, I don’t do after hours.”

“I’ll pay you three times what you would normally charge. But the tattoo will have to be done in stages. Long sessions would make her anxious.”

“Look, I think you’ve got the wrong shop. There are a whole bunch of tattoo parlors in the area—”

“Four times,” he said quickly. “Ginny said you were the best. You know Ginny?”

“Yeah, we went to art school together for a summer. She’s a great graphic designer.” So I had her to thank for this bizarre call.

“So what do you say, Bro?” I hated it when a guy called me bro when we were complete strangers.

I thought about it for a second. Four times the usual pay would definitely make it worth staying open late. But the whole thing seemed strange. “Why can’t I draw it during shop hours?”

“I don’t want other people to be hanging around watching.”

That answer only made the whole thing creepier. “I’m not sure. I want to see the drawing first and discuss things face to face. Can you and your girlfriend come by the shop tomorrow? We close up at six, so you can come then.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Cassie walked out of the back office with her sweatshirt and purse. “What was that about?”

I shook my head. “Not too sure. The guy wants to pay extra for his girlfriend’s tattoo.”

“Extra pay is good.”

“I have to do it after the shop is closed.”

Cassie’s eyes rounded behind her thick lenses. “That’s weird.”

“Yeah. Oh well, they probably won’t even show up.” I fished the keys out of my pocket and looked at her. “Are you going to the car show tonight?”

“Standing around watching guys drool over cars and pin-up models all night? Sounds invigorating.” She lifted up her book. “I think I’ll stick with my
pirate
.”

I smiled. “Sorry, the long hair and puffy shirt made me think pirate.” I turned off the lights and we walked out the door together.

“Should have paid more attention to your history teachers and less attention to the girls sitting in front of you.” Her car chirped as she clicked it open. She paused for a second and then looked back at me. “You know, that guy Mike, the drummer of Hell Cats, is always messaging me on Facebook. His band has a gig at the car show tonight. I think I might show up after all.”

“Good idea, Cass. See you there.”

***

Music rolled across the massive parking lot, causing the shiny cars to shimmer with vibrations in the dying light of the day. The mouth-watering aroma of food trucks floated over the vinyl tops beckoning me to stuff my face.

Clutch’s giant blond head stood up above the rest of the crowd. I was over six feet but Clutch had at least four inches on me. He lumbered toward me with a cardboard container of food.

I glanced down at the box. “Holy shit, are those Rosie’s tacos?”

“Yeah,” he waved his giant hand toward the end of the lot. “Her truck is parked over there.”

“Any offers on the car yet?”

He picked up a taco and took a bite. He wanted to make sure his mouth was full enough to answer. “Nah,” a piece of cabbage fell from his mouth to the grass.” He swallowed the food. “Of course, Wilson already came in with his usual insulting, low ball offer, but I told him to go piss himself. I’m not taking less than twenty-five for that beauty.” He surveyed the other cars quickly. “She’s the finest bird out here. Someone will come up with a wad of cash before the night is out. You’ll see.” He took another bite of taco, and my stomach rolled with hunger.

Without another word, I headed in the direction he’d pointed.

“Where are you going?” Clutch called after me.

“Carne asada and cerveza, Dude, where do you think?” My heart sank when I saw a line snaking around the entire truck. That’s when I noticed Dray standing three people from the order window. I sidled up to him. “Two carne asada and a beer.”

“Hey,” the guy behind Dray snarled, “some of us have been waiting for half an hour.”

Dray turned around with his swollen lip and black eye and glared up at the guy who was a head taller. “What the fuck is your point?”

The guy pulled his head back like a turtle tucking back into his shell.

Dray held out his palm. “Actually, I’m short. Hand over a twenty.”

I raised a brow at him as I plucked my wallet from my back pocket. “Were you planning on paying with a wink and a smile?”

“It might have worked,” Dray said.

I opened my wallet and pulled out a twenty. The picture I had folded inside popped out and floated to the ground. I dove for it before it could get lost or stepped on. I picked it up and straightened in time to meet Dray’s shaking head.

“I can’t believe you still keep that damn picture in your wallet.”

I unfolded the picture and looked at it. It had gotten worn and crumpled with time but the same amazing pair of round blue eyes stared back at me I rubbed my thumb over the girl’s face. I’d found the flyer of the pin-up girl on the ground at a car meet. No one knew who she was or if she’d ever modeled again. It was as if she’d never actually existed. Almost as if I’d conjured her up in my mind. But it wasn’t just the beauty of her face that had me so obsessed with the picture, it was the story behind the sultry, sweet expression. It was as if she had a story to tell, and she just needed to find the right person to tell it to. I tucked the picture back into my wallet for safe keeping.

“You’re never going to find her. Besides, do you think a girl like that is going to be unattached?”

“You don’t know shit,” I growled. “Just remember to get some lime with the tacos.”

My phone vibrated and I walked away from the noise of the food truck. “Hey, Nana.” It was her third call of the day.

“Alex, honey, are you coming for dinner? I baked some fish.”

“No, Nana, not tonight. Save some for me, and I’ll have it tomorrow. Nana, did you turn off the oven?”

It took her a second to respond. “Yes,” she said hesitantly.

“Nana, check it right now while I’m on the phone with you.” I could hear her flat shoes shuffle across the kitchen floor.

“It’s off now. Alex, I was thinking maybe you could plant some flowers in the garden.”

I smiled into the phone. “Sure. I’ll bring some tomorrow.”

“All right, honey. Bye.”

Dray was next in line, and the charred smell of meat was making my mouth water like crazy. He looked at my phone. “Was that Nana?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s she doing?” Dray asked.

I didn’t respond.

“Sorry about that. Life sucks. Have you heard from your mom lately?”

I tucked the phone back into my pocket. “The other day she posted some pictures of herself sitting at a car race in Monaco.” I laughed. “Pretty fucking ironic since she never had any interest in racing when my dad was on the track.”

“She’s almost worse than my mom.” Dray stepped up to the window and ordered our food.

We headed through the throng of people back to where I’d left Clutch. He dwarfed the picnic bench as he sat there staring down at an empty box as if he could somehow magically produce more tacos if he tried hard enough. We sat down across from him, and he looked longingly at my food. I shielded it from his hungry eyes with my hand.

“Damn, I wish I’d ordered more. Those first four were just like an appetizer,” Clutch complained.

Dray shoved almost an entire taco into his mouth and then followed it with his usual hot sauce chaser. I wondered if he had any taste buds left. He chewed, swallowed, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Rosie’s a fucking magician.” He lifted his sunglasses and stared across the grass. “Here comes jail bait.”

Clutch groaned. “Shit, is she coming this way?”

“Making a bee-line right for you,” I said.

“It’s like she’s got some kind of radar or something,” Clutch snarled.

Dray took a gulp of his beer. “One of the hazards that comes with being a goddamned giant.”

Taylor threw her long leg over the bench and sat down hard next to Clutch. Her long copper hair had been braided and tied off with ribbons, but the cherry red gloss on her lips said anything but little girl. She reached over for my cup of beer, but I blocked her hand.

“Yeah, that’s what I want— a ticket for giving beer to a minor.”

Taylor shrugged. “I was talking to a group of models, and they said I’d make a great pin-up.”

Clutch’s laughter thundered across the lot. He finally looked over at her. “With those A cups? You’re dreaming.”

Taylor lifted her chest, and her green eyes shot daggers at him. “I’m not an A cup.” She pushed her bottom lip out.

Clutch was always a total ass to her, but she never got discouraged.

“I guess I should head back over to the car and see if there are any serious buyers hanging around,” Clutch said wistfully. He had convinced himself that people would be brawling to get a bid on his car, and that just didn’t seem to be happening.

Taylor fished something out of her pocket and hummed to herself.

“Whoa,” Clutch said, “there are some mighty fine women strutting around here tonight. There was a sweet little thing in one of those tiny sailor skirts with the tattoo line running up the back of her legs, had to shift in my britches just to get comfortable.”


Britches
?” Dray managed to spray some food as he spoke. “Who the fuck uses the word
britches
?”

“Sorry, Dray, I’ll try to keep the vocabulary at a first grade level in your presence.” Clutch jumped and the entire table shook. “What the hell are you doing, Taylor?”

She lifted up a permanent marker and turned her head to admire her handiwork. “There’s a tattoo on your arm that says
your name here
so I put my name there.”

He rubbed vigorously at his skin. Clutch looked at me. “Can you fucking believe this?”

I chugged back the rest of my beer. “Hey, I told you that tattoo was just going to bring you grief.”

He scowled down at Taylor, but she met his scowl with her own steely green gaze. I had to hand it to the kid, she was brave.

“Maybe you didn’t notice the line underneath my blank billboard tattoo.” Clutch poked at his arm. “It says
hot chicks need only apply
. That does not include snot faced kids like you.”

This time I saw hurt flash across her face. Her small nose crinkled beneath the spray of freckles.

“You really need me to cover up that tattoo. It makes you look like a total ass,” I said.

“I like it,” Clutch said quietly, but he too sensed that his last words had burned Taylor. He actually looked bothered by it. He deftly changed the subject. “Hey, look at those two, Nix. They’re definitely checking us out.”

Taylor stood. The sassy spunk had disappeared from her pretty face, and I wanted to kick my friend under the table. “Now
you’re
dreaming, you fat headed jerk,” Taylor said. There was a slight waver in her voice, and I was certain Clutch heard it. “They’re only looking at Nix, not you, you stupid Viking.” She stomped away on her long legs, and I caught my thick-skulled friend watching her leave.

“Irritating kid,” Clutch muttered.

I stared at him. “Is she
irritating
because she’s only seventeen, or is she irritating because she’s only
seventeen
?”

Dray laughed at my question, but Clutch was not amused.

He stood and his shadow darkened the entire table. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I’ve got to go make some dinero.” He lumbered away on his Frankenstein sized shoes.

I looked over at Dray. He’d lit a cigarette and was watching something through the curtain of smoke. “Isn’t that Cassie over there?”

I looked in the direction he was staring. Cassie was wearing a yellow sundress and sitting on a bench having a beer with the band drummer. “That’s definitely Cass. She mentioned something about meeting the guy from Hell Cats down here.”

He took another long drag on his cigarette, but his eyes didn’t leave Cassie. “What the fuck is that all about?”

“What do you mean?”

He extinguished the cigarette in the remnants of his beer cup. “Nothing. The guy looks like a douchebag, that’s all.” He stood and stretched. “Let’s cruise around. I’m bored of sitting here.” We headed in the direction of the cars, but Dray took one last glance over his shoulder at Cassie.

 

 

C
HAPTER 4

Scotlyn

The warm California sun was once again the highlight of my day. Lincoln kept the temperature inside in the sterile house at a constant frigid temperature, not unlike an underground cavern. And even with all the floor to ceiling windows, the place felt like a cave to me.

Lincoln refused to sweat like a real man, so he kept the house cold during the long summer months and I stayed draped in sweatshirts to keep warm. Sitting at the pool, I could at least escape the headache inducing cold and feel the comfort of the sun on my skin.

I stretched out my legs and placed my head back against the plush cushion of the lounge.

Lincoln sat under the fan-cooled shade of the cabana, sipping expensive liquor and avoiding wrinkles in his pristine white Dockers. Three of his
business
partners sat with him. Lincoln had inherited most of his money from his father, but when he’d finally realized that it was easy to blow through a huge inheritance, he began investing his money. But you don’t make big money with investments unless you’re doing something sketchy, and Lincoln’s business deals were definitely shady. At one point, even I’d become an entity for profit making. Lincoln was certain I could make him a fortune as a model, but my long scar and my lack of enthusiasm in front of the camera were limiting. Once he realized that it was making me more unhappy and that other guys would be staring at my picture, he gave up on the idea.

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