Haunted

Haunted

By

R.L. Merrill

Haunted

Copyright © 2014, Celie Bay Publications, LLC

All rights reserved.

No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any mean, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written permission of the publisher. No patent liability is assumed with respect to the use of the information contained herein. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.  

This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published By: Celie Bay Publications, LLC

Cover design by: Ellay Branton

Edited by: LTE Editing

Formatting by: Bob Houston eBook Formatting  

I owe all of my success and achievements to my mother, Linda Rae.  Thanks, Mom, for always being there for me when I needed you

Haunted

By

R.L. Merrill

December 2011

Blood throbbed in time with her heartbeat against her tender skin making this the most uncomfortable plane ride she’d ever experienced. It was even worse than the red-eye from L.A. to Japan she’d taken a few months ago while getting over a bout of bronchitis. Tonight her right hip was throbbing. She knew it would be painful getting a tattoo and had heard the aftermath wasn’t easy either. She followed the artist’s directions for aftercare, but felt like she had a third degree burn under her clothes. Thankfully, she’d brought a loose skirt for the trip, even though it was still clinging to her raw flesh.

The artist had been so patient with her, reassuring her that the pain would be worth it in the end. She was really nice, too. Someone she could have been friends with under different circumstances. They’d talked about many things and she almost felt like she could have told her anything. It got her thinking that maybe it was time to get some help.

When the flight attendant announced they could take off their seat belts and deplane, she was thrilled. She grabbed her overnight bag and briefcase and stood in the aisle. It had been a long couple of days, but she was so glad she’d been able to see Mama and get away from the insanity here. Tomorrow night was the big release party and she had been planning on just showing up that night, figuring it would take the focus off her little trip. The husband was having fits, though, which is why she was home a day early.

“It was worth it,” she told herself. The yelling, the threats...She could take it for one more taste of home. For how much longer, though, she had no clue. She loved him, so very much. He was dangerous, and the danger was not only emotional. She also didn’t know how much longer she could take the pressure of putting on a happy face for everyone else without breaking down. She had to make it appear that everything was peachy, but inside, she was crumbling.

“Where the hell have you been?” These were the words that greeted her when she got home.” What the fuck was I supposed to tell everyone? Who were you with? Were you with someone else?” These were the usual questions. She’d grown so tired of them. “You better not even think about leaving me. I won’t let you. I won’t let some other guy touch you, not as long as you’re still breathing, do you hear me?” She was beginning to think the threats were real. She was so tired. If only she didn’t love him so much. If she could just get him to see that there wasn’t anyone else...

Haunted

Her eyes our lens

Her smile our light

Her laugh our applause

Her death our tragedy

April 2012

“I told you not to engage in oral sex right after getting your piercing! It was explicitly written in the directions. If the ball has disappeared into the flesh of your tongue, then I suggest you go to the E.R.!”  

Mackenzie slammed down the phone with a huff. My shop mate was completely flustered. “I don’t care how hot the guy is who wants to get blown, if you just got your tongue pierced the day before you say ‘hells no!’ But they never listen!”

I blew my bangs up out of my face and chuckled. “How many of those calls have you gotten this month?”  

She threw up her hands. “I’ve lost count! Between that and the guy who lost his piercing inside his girlfriend’s swath of forest! I am very open about the fact that I am not a medical professional and they shouldn’t call me when they have medical emergencies! What will it take for these people to have a lick of sense?”

“Well, she tried to have a lick of something, maybe that’s the problem,” laughed my client, Daryl.

He was enjoying our exchange. I think he came in so often because he liked our company and the tattoos were just a souvenir.

I smoothed the soapy spray across his arm with a paper towel. A few more passes of my needle and his daughters’ portraits would be done. I reached up with the back of my arm and wiped the sweat from my brow. The air conditioning being on the fritz was not helping matters tonight. The AC was just another thing nagging at me from my endless list of ‘shit to do-ASAP.’ Being a shop owner was far less glamorous than most people assumed. Besides getting to tattoo to my heart’s content, I also had the added bonus of having to maintain an old building on the edge of the French Quarter. But this is what I told myself I wanted to do with my life so bitching about it was not allowed.

“What’s a ‘swath of forest’ anyway, Kenzie Kitten?”  

Mackenzie shot Daryl an annoyed look. “Think of a word your less enlightened sex likes to use to refer to a vagina!”  

He was deep in thought. “Well, I’m stumped,” he said. “Besides, it’s not like I should be using that kind of language around ladies such as yourselves.”

I rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t stop most of the dudes who come in here,” I muttered.

Mackenzie was full of spit and vinegar tonight. “Well it should, dammit. I mean, shit! Don’t nobody got any fucking manners anymore?”

She had us in stitches. I could tell she was tired, though. She’d had a busy day today piercing a few navels and parts further south and selling our shop merchandise to a surprisingly large amount of foot traffic. Plus, it took a lot of energy to be her.

“Jay, you got any more appointments tonight?”  Mackenzie was up front looking over the books. She was a Jill of all trades; she could pierce, massage, do professional makeup and create masterpieces with hair. Thank the gods she was also much better with numbers and seemed to love handling the business side of this venture because it was totally frustrating to me.

“Not tonight, I’m calling it quits after I’m done with Daryl here.”

The large man grunted and wiped the perspiration off of his bald dome. It was unseasonably warm for an early April afternoon. Soon the humidity would blanket New Orleans like a hot towel at the barber’s shop and the tourist crowds would thin for the summer.

“Aw, come on now, suga,” he purred in his Cajun drawl. “I wanted to take you out for a drink after this. You owe me after five hours of my blood, sweat and tears.” He gave me a wink and then a grimace as I finished the last of the sky-blue shading.

Daryl’s piece was one of his two daughters dressed up like little angels having a tea party. I based it on a gorgeous candid he’d taken of them a few weeks ago. After he had it developed he dashed straight over with it for me to start drawing.

The incongruence of this burly biker with two cherubic princesses in pink popping off his bicep would have been laughable but A. no one laughed at Daryl, and B. everyone knew how much the president of the local motorcycle club, The Righteous Riders, loved his little girls. Daryl Doucette was in his mid-50’s and built like a lumberjack on steroids. He shaved his head but had nearly a foot-long reddish beard and scared the shit out of most people. However, if he chose to let you into his circle, you were treated like royalty. I’d been lucky enough to meet him shortly after my arrival in town and through him I’d acquired most of my now admirably sized client base. It seems someone who could do Traditional-style tattoos as well as color portraits and surreal subject matter was hard to find in the area so my appointment book filled up quickly. I met Mackenzie along the way and we decided to get a place together. That was a year ago and our little shop, Pins and Needles, was keeping its head above water.

“You’re sweet, Daryl, but I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow and I need to get some shut-eye.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and then nodded. “You got visitors tomorrow, yeah? How long they here for?”  

I sighed as I pulled off my gloves and sat back to give his piece a last glance. I was pleased with my work, the girls’ tiaras sparkled just the way I wanted and their blue eyes really looked alive. It was almost as if you could reach out and pinch their cheeks. Of course, if you made that mistake, Daryl would knock you on your ass.

“They’ll be here two days. They're just flying in to check on me. They’re probably convinced I’m selling my body to support myself since ‘tattooing will never make me any money’.”

My stepmother, Shannon, and my Grandma were supposedly flying out from California to celebrate my 26th birthday. In reality, I knew they were coming to make sure I wasn’t starving or resorting to illegal activity. It’s been a year and a half since I left my home in Northern California, and I’ve never looked back. That doesn’t mean that family ties disappear, however. It was less painful to just focus on my new life here in N’awlins than to dwell on the circumstances of my leaving.

“And after that you’ll let me take you for that drink now won’t ya?”  

I gave Daryl a big hug, loving the way his papa bear beard and big belly made me feel appreciated in a way so different from my own father.

“I will see you after that, Daryl, but only to come visit those beautiful daughters and WIFE of yours to see how they like your new ink and to make sure you are taking good care of it!”  

He blushed and chuckled his agreement. Working around mostly male artists and clients meant being able to dodge come-ons, hands, and whatever was uninvitedly thrown your way.

“Yeah, yeah, just rain on my parade. Can’t an old man dream?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Not when those dreams will have you singing soprano. Now get home and go to bed. Drink water and take Ibuprofen!”  

He waved goodbye and climbed on his Harley. The motor growled to life and shook the windows as he revved it up and pulled out onto the street.

I went about cleaning my station and setting up for the next day. Shannon and Grandma weren’t due in until 4:00 and were taking a cab from the airport to their hotel so I had time to maybe take a walk-in or two before meeting up with them. Keeping busy was how I was going to make it through their visit in one piece.

A few minutes later Daryl’s Harley pulled up out front again and I frowned and looked around to see if he’d left anything and came up empty.

“What’s up, Daryl? You want your money back already?”  

He laughed out loud and stepped up to the counter to give Mackenzie a hard time.

“Nah, chère, I figured I’d come back and take Kenzie for a ride.”

Mackenzie rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t tease like that, you know I want your bike. You might not make it back, old man. I might dump your ass in the swamp and take your bike for a nice long ride. No one would ever find you.”

He pulled a lock of her cotton candy pink hair and whispered something to her that resulted in her socking him in his good arm.

“Hey, now! I’m wounded over here.” He rubbed at his good arm with mock suffering.

“You’re gonna be wounded when I call Katie!”  

This back and forth was Daryl’s favorite pastime, but he was completely innocent and both Mackenzie and I knew it. He loved his wife desperately and just got a kick out of being a dirty old man with his favorite two hot young things.

“Now now, tame yourself, Kenzie Kitten. I remembered I got something to tell Jaylene.” He looked over at me all business.

“My nephews and their band are coming to town for a bit. They rented an old place here in the Quarter to work on their new album. They want to get tattooed while they are here and of course I told them you’d have to do it.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You didn’t promise my hand in marriage to any of them, did you?”  

He chuckled again, his shoulders shaking. “No way, chère. None of them could make you happy like I could do. They just boys, you need an experienced man.” He waggled his eyebrows at me and it was my turn to roll my eyes.

“Ha ha, funny guy. You better watch out or the next time you ask me for a tattoo I’m going to let Katie at you with my machine.”

He held his hands up in surrender.

“No way! She’ll tattoo ‘Property of’ on my man parts and that wouldn’t feel none too good. On my honor, Jaylene, I told my nephews you are the best and to come and see you. They’ve seen your work on me and my boys and they wanted me to set up an appointment for them to come in and talk to you.”

“Of course I’ll meet with them. When did they want to come in?”  

He rubbed the back of his head and gave me that boyish smile of his that I could never resist. I couldn’t resist when it meant he needed me to babysit, or when it meant he needed me to go check on Katie if he was on the road. I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms in front of me.

“Well, the thing is I told them you could meet tonight. I meant to tell you about it before we started and well, I was just too excited about my new ink.”

He knew I’d never say no to him. I heaved an exaggerated sigh.”What time will they be here?”  

At that moment a black Hummer pulled up out outside, music blaring from partially downed windows. I looked over at Mackenzie, whose eyes were wide with excitement. We were both currently unattached and while I was completely satisfied with that arrangement, she was always looking for Mr. Right-for-the-time-being. And rock n’ roll boys were her weakness. Mine too, if I was being perfectly honest. The doors opened and out poured five sunglassed, denim-clad, tattooed and pierced, rock n’ roll boys.

Mackenzie grabbed for her pink lip gloss without taking her eyes off of the men about to enter our shop and applied said gloss expertly, screwed the cap back on and placed it under the counter. I glanced over at her outrageous outfit of the day to find her in a light teal bustier decorated with black ribbon, black above-the-knee ruffled skirt, white tights and matching teal four-inch stilettos. With her pink hair, false eyelashes and expertly applied makeup she was a knockout. Her style decorated most of our shop and somehow avoided clashing with my black and chrome, Heavy Metal influence. I smiled and shook my head, hoping none of these men was a walking heartbreak for her. My appearance of the day consisted of well-worn and torn Levi capris, a black tank and low-top, red Chucks. My blonde and black hair was piled on top of my head in a messy, half-pulled ponytail. It was desperately in need of some TLC.

The door opened and our welcome bell chimed. The first one in walked directly over to Daryl, who was in front of me at the counter, and the two embraced warmly. The others shook hands and hugged him. It was obvious they all respected and probably feared him. I saw out of the corner of my eye that a couple of the guys had picked up my portfolio and were glancing through it, exclamations coming out at each page’s offerings.

“I gather this is one of your nephews?”  I smiled professionally at the man hugging Daryl. His black hair was stylishly spiked all over the place and he had pleasant hazel-brown eyes. He was a few inches taller than my height of 5’8”, lanky, and wore a white tank undershirt and black denim tight-fitting jeans over black leather motorcycle boots.

“Jaylene, this is my nephew Marcus Lambert, singer for Maggie’s Bones. Marcus, this beautiful lady is Jaylene Charles.”

Marcus took my hand and leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. I was only sort of used to this typical Doucette greeting. Most of the people Daryl introduced me to greeted folks like this.

“So pleased to meet you, Miss Charles. You do amazing work and my uncle gave you the highest of recommendations.” His eyes crinkled when he smiled in a way that probably made most young women lose their panties in a heartbeat. If that didn’t completely slay them, his slight Cajun drawl would finish them off.

“Thank you, Mr. Lambert. Daryl is too kind. He tells me that you all would like to get some work done?”  

He nodded and immediately he lost some of his playfulness.

“Yes, ma’am. A tribute piece. But let me first introduce you to my mates.” He gestured to the rest of the rag-tag group.

They had been chatting quietly, with the exception of a tall guy who still had his aviator shades on and was looking out the front window. I couldn’t see his face, but he was imposing even from across the shop. His toned arms were crossed over his chest and both were covered in black and grey sleeves spreading out from under his snug, white t-shirt. He was wearing black board shorts with Vans, a chain hanging down from his belt loop. Marcus introduced his band mates and I had to focus on breathing as I was presented with each one of these otherworldly handsome men.

“This is Mage, our bass player. My brother Jade, our rhythm guitar player. Star, our drummer. And that over there is D, our lead guitar player.”

The man looked over and nodded at me. His shoulder was touching the window giving me a perfect view of his profile once he turned away continued to stare out the window from an angle. My line of sight was immediately drawn to his mouth, his perfect lips that were held in a barely perceptible pout. Beneath his tattoos, his skin was very fair making his black hair that much more dramatic.