Pretty In Ink (15 page)

WILSON

I explained everything that had happened to my father, who didn’t seem at all shocked by my mother’s actions. Disappointed, yes, but shocked, not so much.

“Almost word for word,” I said.

“Son, all I can offer is an apology,” he said.

I raised my hands to my face and covered my eyes. Within a few seconds, I was crying like a baby. My father rested his hand on my shoulder and attempted to comfort me.

“You’ll get her back, and she’ll understand once she knows what really happened,” he said.

“You don’t understand,” I said as I wiped my tears. “She’s different. She’s been hurt her entire life. Over and over. She doesn’t trust men.”

“She trusts you, doesn’t she?” he asked.

“She
did
,” I said.

The thought of it all was crushing. To lose her, and especially to lose her in this manner, was incomprehensible. The pain inside my chest was at an all-time high, and I felt as if I was being choked from the inside out.

“I’m quite certain time will heal this wound,” my father said. “Does she have anywhere special she goes? A favorite place?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Friends?” he asked.

“I could go talk to the people she works with. I’ve been there once, but I left frantic,” I responded.

“It may be worth a try. And I could certainly find you a top-notch Private Investigator if need be,” he said.

“See what you can find out about hiring one, if you will,” I said. “And I’ll go to her shop.”

“Good luck,” he said.

I stood from my seat and wiped my face. I felt like a fool, but I was so madly in love with her it hurt me to even breathe.

“I love you,” I said as I turned away.

“I love you, Son,” he said. “I’ll lock up, don’t worry.”

I stumbled to my car and drove to Blurred Lines. After a half hour of explaining every detail of what had happened to Riley and Blake, neither of them had much to offer, only a few kind words attempting to comfort me. Well, that and sheer shock.

“Holy shit, that’s the craziest fucking story I’ve ever heard. Just fucking crazy,” Blake said. “Dude, I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Riley said. “But I haven’t heard a single word from her, I mean nothing. If I do you’ll be the first to know.”

I nodded my head. I hadn’t slept in 36 hours, and I looked like the wrath of God himself. Unshaven, unshowered, and wearing jeans with one of Stevie’s beloved wife beaters, I was scouring the city looking in each and every crack and crevice for even a hint of her.

“I ain’t trying to hijack your conversation, but you’re talking about the little tattooed girl with the purple hair who works here, ain’t ya?” The new employee asked as he walked to where we were standing.

“Yes, do you know where she might be?” I asked, hoping he could shed some light on the subject.

He was a mountain of a man, standing roughly six foot two, and was covered in muscles and tattoos. His hair was short but messy, and he had a week long growth of beard, covering the majority of the small scars I could see on his face, but a few of them were still quite visible. As I stood and waited for him to respond, he slowly continued to wrap a piece of wire around an object he held, and upon completing his task, he responded.

“I ain’t got a clue where she might be, but I know people. Name’s Lightning. Former Force Recon Marine, finding people is my specialty. I got some…let’s call them friends…in an undisclosed location in southern California who can find a pecker gnat in a herd of African elephants. You give me her phone number, vehicle identification number, and Social Security number, and I’ll give you her location in about two hours,” he said.

“You’re certain?” I asked.

He nodded his head.

“Certain?” I asked again.

He calmly nodded his head.

“If you can locate her in two hours, I’ll give you a hundred thousand dollars,” I said. “How’s that for incentive?”

“Damn. Sure don’t sound legit. Listen, I don’t need paid for this. Sounds like she’s your girl, and there was a little misunderstandin’, right?” he asked.

I nodded my head.

“Yeah, if you can give me that information, I’ll find your girl,” he said calmly.

“And you’re sure?” I asked excitedly.

He nodded once. “Sure as a shark shits in the sea.”

As far as I knew, a shark only shit in one place.

“You sound pretty certain,” I said.

“Get me that information and I’ll show you how we reconnaissance Marines do it,” he said.

“Riley, get me a sheet of paper and a pen if you will,” I said as I turned toward the door.

A few phone calls later, and with the help of Blake, we provided her checking account number, Social Security number, the VIN number from her car, and her cell phone number.

Too excited to sleep, too heartbroken to eat, and much too hopeful to leave, I sat down on Blake’s chair and waited. Waiting two hours was nothing as far as I was concerned. My life, by all means and measures, had stopped upon her departure. Living without her was impossible, and although I never expected it would have come to living without her, her absence caused me to realize just how big of a part she played not only in my life, but in my being.

“Busy?” I asked as I shifted my eyes toward Blake.

“Not at all, what’s up?” he asked.

“I want a tattoo,” I said.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” he asked.

Although I wouldn’t have guessed I had a laugh left in me, I chuckled. “Pardon me?”

“A tattoo virgin?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” I responded.

“What are you thinking,” he asked.

“A broken heart,” I said as I slapped my hand against my bicep. “Right here.”

“How about we wait?” he asked.

I glanced up, confused. “For?” I asked.

“Wait and see if he finds her,” he responded. “When you two are back together, we’ll look at doing something special.”

I glanced toward the Marine. He paced back and forth while talking on the phone again, talking as he walked the floor of the shop. I relaxed into the stool, listening to the music, and recalled the day Stevie danced for me in my bedroom. After what seemed like a matter of seconds, I glanced at my watch and realized half an hour had passed.

As I stood to go to the restroom, the Marine hung up the phone, nonchalantly walked toward us, and handed me the piece of paper I had given him forty-five minutes prior. As I accepted it, he simply nodded his head. My shoulder slumped as I accepted it.

“No luck?” I asked as I glanced down at what I had written on the sheet of paper.

“As you were,” he said with a laugh as he pulled the paper from my hand and turned it over.

I glanced down at the sheet of paper again. My heart began to race. I shifted my eyes toward him.

He tapped his finger against the paper where he had written her location and grinned.

“She’s there right now, but might not be for long. Get as close as you can and call me back, I’ll pinpoint her once you’re there,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said as I extended my hand.

He extended his hand, shook mine, and nodded his head again.

“I wasn’t joking about that money,” I said.

“Don’t need the money, Boss. Tell ya what,” he said. “Just when you two get back here, let me be the first one who drills that virgin skin of yours, how’s that?”

“Sounds good,” I said as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket.

“Andrew,” I said as I walked toward the door. “Have Stornbridge get the timeshare ready, we’re headed to…” I glanced down at the sheet of paper. “Mission Beach.”

I had at least one more phone call to make and no less than three more passengers who were going to have to come with me, even if I had to kidnap them.

There was no jet in the world that could get me there fast enough.

Not even mine.

STEVIE

The board wasn’t at all what I was used to, but I realized it would have to do. After paddling out past the breakers, I waited for what I felt I was entitled to. With the sun on my back and the salty water splashing against my face, I did what any surfer does.

I waited for the perfect moment.

It seemed like I had been out there forever and my skin felt fried, but I really needed this. After what seemed like a lifetime, one began to swell along the horizon, and it looked like a twelve or fourteen footer. I frantically began to paddle in the direction of the beach, continuously checking over my shoulder for the right moment.

As the swell began to lift me, I stopped paddling and rose into a crouched position. The swell passed me, peaked, and began to break.

At that instant, I was as close to heaven as any person on earth had ever been. Gazing at my line on the beach, I rode that fourteen foot motherfucker like a fucking boss, carving and cutting like I never had before, convinced I was taming the very ocean beneath me.

As the wave crashed, my heart sank. All good things come to an end, even God’s most blessed offerings.

I picked up my rented board and began walking toward the beach. I was exhausted. Six hours of surfing would have worn anyone out, and considering my emotional state, it was a miracle I was even standing.

As I shifted my focus from the ocean to the beach, I couldn’t help but notice a muscle bound idiot standing and staring at me from the beach. Wearing board shorts and holding his hand to his brow, there was no doubt in my mind who he was watching, but I had no interest in listening to his pickup lines.

I had heard them all before.

The closer I got, the more he reminded me of Wilson. As I continued to wade through the ocean, I wondered just how many men in my future would resemble him. Probably everyone, I decided. With the water now shin-high, I glanced upward for a split second, and the resemblance was uncanny.

This is all I need, another reminder of that prick.

As I reached the beach, I narrowed my gaze and attempted to focus, but the mid-afternoon sun had me almost blinded. As my eyes went in and out of focus, he spoke.

The sound of his voice sent chills down my spine.

“Stevie, I love you,” he said.

How the fuck did you find me?

“Fuck off,” I snapped back as I turned to my right and continued walking.

“Just listen. Let me explain,” he said as he began to walk to his left.

I stopped, glanced in his direction, and cleared my throat. As I turned to my left and attempted to walk up the beach, he moved to his right and followed me.

“What part of fuck off don’t you understand,” I asked as I dropped my board in the sand.

Frustrated and wanting to be left alone, I shifted my eyes from the surfboard to Wilson. His lip was quivering and his eyes were clearly swollen from crying. I swallowed heavily and hoped he felt at least a piece of what I had felt. Whatever he was feeling, I knew he damned sure deserved it.

With our eyes locked, he turned his palms upward and sighed. “Let me…”

“Motherfucker, if you keep this up, I’m going to kick you in the nuts, I swear,” I seethed.

He shook his head frantically and clenched his fists. “Listen!”

“No, I don’t fucking want to. You’re like all the rest,
Asher
. There’s nothing you can…”

“Stop!” he yelled. “Everything you were told was a lie. Everything. I was at my attorney’s office and my mother knew it. She hired a lady to act the part of a prostitute, to fool you and make you run away. And…”

He paused and waved his hands in my direction.

“It worked. My mother, the lady she hired, my attorney, even Andrew. They’re all up in the parking area waiting, every one of them. They’ll corroborate my story. Stevie, I love you,” he said.

Woman she hired?

I raised my hands to my face, covered my eyes, and shook my head.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked.

“My mother. She sabotaged us. She set me up,” he said.

I dropped my eyes to the beach and ran the scene back and forth through my head. His mother stopping by the shop. Me going to his house. The Slavic whore. It was all too convenient, and now, with Wilson standing in front of me all but in tears, I realized I was too quick to believe, and far too eager to react. I shifted my eyes up to meet Wilson’s, afraid I was going to end up looking like an idiot, but knowing it wasn’t the first time and sure wouldn’t be the last.

I rubbed my eyes, shook my head, and lowered myself to my knees. I was tired, I was confused, and I was heartbroken.

But most of all, I was still in love.

“Give me your version,” I said.

“Stevie, listen. My version is the truth. I told you I would never let anyone hurt you, and that included me. Okay, listen. While I was at my attorney’s office, my mother contracted an escort from an escort service to act the part of a prostitute, paid her $2,500, and she did so in hopes of scaring you away. The sad thing is that it worked. My attorney, his secretary, they can both confirm I was there drafting contract language all morning. They’re all up there. They’ll explain and confirm everything. Even the escort,” he said.

I felt like an idiot. I didn’t need anyone to confirm what he was saying; hearing the words come from his mouth was enough. And if I ever saw that nasty whore again, I’d beat her within an inch of her life just because she reminded me of the situation.

“You better send the slut back where she came from,” I said. “If I see that bitch again, I’ll kill her.”

“Consider it done,” he said.

“I’m a fucking idiot. So, you’ll have me back?” I asked as I shrugged my shoulders.

He nodded his head. “As far as I’m concerned, we were never apart.”

There was a good thirty feet separating us. I jumped to me feet and took off in a dead run. After ten of the quickest steps I’ve ever taken, I ran head-on into the chest of the man I loved more than I loved myself.

We fell in a pile on the beach where I dreamed we would once be able to at least share a simple moment together.

“So we’re good?” he asked as he rolled onto his back.

“We’re good,” I said as I brushed the sand off of my face.

“You looked great out there,” he said as he tossed his head toward the ocean.

“Thanks. You look good right here,” I said as I tilted my head toward his crotch.

“Shall we go up there so you can hear the story?” he asked.

“I already heard it, and I feel like an idiot,” I said. “I’d rather fuck than talk. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“I wanna fuck you right now, but I’m covered in sand,” I said.

“Want to do it in a jet?” he asked.

“I don’t need arrested,” I said. “Air Marshalls don’t fuck around.”

“I have a timeshare on a jet, and it’s at the airport. I’ll ask again. You want to fuck on a jet?”

I pushed myself to my feet, extended my hand, and grinned as he accepted my hand in his.

Mile high club, here we come.