The Darkest Link (Second Circle Tattoos) (11 page)

His lips, soft and warm, brushed over hers in a kiss that was both welcome and challenge. Large hands spanned her back, holding her tight, as he unknowingly helped her escape the thoughts that were crowding her head, taking her away to a place where she could be herself.

“I missed you, too,” she mumbled against him, unable to stop grinning ridiculously.

He set her back a little. “How long ’til you are able to break free?”

“I have another five, maybe ten minutes. I’m just finishing up a tattoo, then I need to write up the bill. Then I should be able to go.”

“Perfect. Are you in your car? Or am I going to get you on the back of my bike?” He grinned.

Lia looked down at her navy-blue pencil skirt. “As much as I like that idea, I’m inappropriately dressed for the occasion. And yes, my rental car is around the back. But I was just thinking how good it would be to wrap my arms around you and go for a ride, so can I get a rain check?”

“Anytime you want to wrap any part of your anatomy around me is fine with me, babe,” he said, sliding his hand down her back to grip her butt.

She slapped him on the arm playfully. “Don’t. Call. Me. Babe.”

“Never,” he said. “What does a guy have to do to get a cup of coffee around this place?”

“My boss is the biggest coffee fiend ever. We’ve got plenty in the kitchen. Come on in, and you can hang out while I finish up.”

Reid stepped off his bike and turned straight into the path of an oncoming fist.

* * *

Reid spun and grabbed onto his bike. Before he could regain his bearings or understand what the hell had just happened, his assailant was on him again. “Where the fuck were you?” the man shouted.

There was no way in hell he was going to allow the shit to be kicked out of him on a Miami sidewalk, and he definitely didn’t want Lia embroiled in whatever craziness was going down. Reid found his feet, pivoted on the spot, and nailed his attacker in the stomach.

“Trent,” Lia shouted. “What the hell? Harper, stop him.”

Trent? Her boss?
He looked at the guy, who was currently doubled over.

“Trent,” another woman shouted, rushing from inside the studio. He followed the voice, and all sense of feeling disappeared from his hands and feet, leaving his head spinning with confusion.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of him, a thousand miles from where he’d left her in the safety of their parents, was his sister, Taylor. That was as far as he got in assessing the parallel universe he’d just stepped into before Trent’s fist again made contact with the side of his face, sending him crashing into the studio window.

“No,” his sister screamed. “Oh my God! Reid. Trent. Stop it.”

“You’re an asshole,” Trent yelled, wiping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What the fuck?” Reid said, climbing to his feet. “Taylor, I don’t—”

Another guy barreled out of the studio, bigger than the two of them. He grabbed hold of Trent, but Trent broke free and attempted to throw another punch. This time, Reid was ready and blocked him, but he had to give the fucker credit. The guy had moves.

Trent charged him and sent the two of them flying backward into the window of the studio, splintering the glass.

“You want to can this shit?” he asked with an
umpf
as Trent’s fist made contact with his stomach.

“Can this shit? You fucking abandoned her, you asshole,” Trent said, kneeling over him. The big guy had grabbed hold of Trent again, but he continued to shout. “To be victimized. Again. To be stalked by a psychopath. Again.”

He looked over to where Taylor appeared to be rooted to the spot. Suddenly the need to win drained from him. “What does he mean,
again
?” He wiped blood off his chin and looked over to his sister. “What’s going on, Taylor?”

“Her name’s Harper.” Trent spat blood onto the pavement, and pulled her close to his side.

“Her name is fucking Taylor, until she tells me different,” he responded, gingerly standing to his full height and gripping his ribs.

There was a clear battle line. His sister was standing on one side of the sidewalk with Lia and their friends, and he was standing on the other. He’d imagined this moment many times. Mainly he imagined that he’d find her on social media and send her a message. Even in his dreams it had felt like the coward’s way out, but it would have given her the option, control even, of deciding whether to meet. Occasionally he thought about returning to Chicago and simply turning up on her doorstep, or finding out where she was teaching and waiting for her outside of school. The dream always ended with his father making good on his promise to report him to the police for the bad judgments he’d made. There had even been a couple of times over the years where he’d imagined Taylor would come looking for him. One day he’d be working under the hood of a car at Kenny’s, and she’d walk in. But never in a million years had he considered that it would happen like this.

His sister took a small step forward, and even in the heat of the moment, he was relieved to see the protective asshole let her go. “Trent’s right. I only go by Harper now.”

Reid rubbed a hand across his brow. It felt as though somebody had taken an angle grinder to the side of his head. Taylor . . . Harper . . . Whatever name his sister was using, she looked incredible, and strong. And those green eyes of hers always went so fucking wide when she was distressed. From the golden tan, he’d have to assume she was safe, happy, and there by choice. Trent stood on one side of her, his arm tightly around her waist. The other tall guy had stepped to his sister’s other side. Even though he completely deserved it, it was hard not to feel displaced. Once upon a time it had been his side that she would run to. Once upon a time, he would’ve been the one to defend her.

Everybody was staring at him, waiting, he was sure, for him to say something profound. But all he could focus on was swallowing the lump in his throat that was threatening to choke him, and keeping his lunch down.

“Did you know about this, Lia?” Trent asked. For the first time since he’d been punched, Reid looked her way. Her face was pale, and he could see the cogs turning as she tried to figure out exactly what was going on. She walked to neutral ground, not with them, but not with him, either. He tried to recall whether he’d ever told her his real name was Reid.

She worked her hands up and down her arms and shook her head.

Voices rang out all around them.

Uncertain what her response would be, he walked toward Lia anyway and was relieved when she tentatively took the hand he offered.

“Can you all just shut the fuck up and calm the fuck down,” the tall guy said loudly, quieting the group. “As much as it was a ton of fun to see you guys shatter the front of the store, I think it might be best if we stopped providing YouTube-worthy moments to the residents of our neighborhood—who were already thinking, ironically, that tattoo artists lack class. Lia, you’re done, right?”

Lia nodded and squeezed Reid’s hand. “I just needed to finish a few details and take payment, but if you can do that for me that would be great.”

“Trent, you’ve got one of your regulars coming in with a half-finished portrait. Would love to step in and take it for you, but you know you’ve got to finish it.”

“Fuck,” Trent said, turning to face Taylor. He leaned forward and whispered something, and at first she disagreed with him, shaking her head before looking in Reid’s direction, but then continued to talk to Trent. Always playing the peacekeeper, the way she had between him and his father. Finally, Trent nodded in agreement. “I’m gonna go in and finish up, and Harper can stay with me. We’ll head over to Lia’s place when I’m done.”

Trent turned and took Harper’s hand, leading her inside the studio.

“Wait,” Reid called out. He couldn’t find her only for her to immediately disappear. “Taylor . . . I mean Harper. Can I speak with you alone for a second?” He needed to make some sense of what was going on. His feet were on sand that felt like it was continually shifting. He wanted . . . no, he
needed
. . . to know that they were going to be okay.

Taylor looked back toward the studio where Trent stood waiting for her, then back to him, clearly torn. “I need a minute,” she replied softly. “But we’ll come to Lia’s, I promise.” She squeezed her hands into fists. “It’s good to see you, Reid.” And with that, the sister who had suddenly crashed back into his life was gone.

“Lia, go get your stuff. I’ll wait out here with lover boy,” the tall guy said.

“Are you okay if I just go inside for a moment?” she asked Reid. “You aren’t going to do something stupid like drive off, are you?” In spite of the craziness, he liked that she’d checked on him. What he had to say to his sister was bound to have repercussions on their fledgling relationship. He’d have to face the reality that Lia might change her mind about him once she heard what he had to say. It was impossible to hide the guilty side of himself away from her any longer, and it stung that it was going to change how she saw him.

He nodded. “I’m good, but I really need a drink, babe.”

She arched her eyebrow at him, and he grinned in return. It was probably all kinds of wrong that he still checked out her ass as she walked into the studio, but hell, right now he’d take any moment of levity he could.

“Dude, just a warning,” the tall guy said. “You’re taking your life in your own hands calling her babe. I’m guessing you must be the missing brother.”

Reid nodded. “I didn’t realize she was missing, too.”

The guy looked toward the studio. “Not so much missing. She just had to come here to be found.”

“Is that some weird Buddha shit? Because I am seriously not in the mood for motivational wisdom right now.”

“Nah. Not Buddha. That’s all me. I’m Cujo, and I’m a regular fucking sage,” he said, offering his hand. “Welcome to Second Circle.”

Lia opened the door to her condo and let Reid inside. He’d followed her home on his bike, so they’d been unable to talk, but he’d said nothing once they’d parked in the underground garage.

“Holy shit, Lia,” he said, looking out toward the water. “That’s some view.”

She dropped her keys on the side table, and placed her purse next to them. Sharing details about her wealth only seemed to cause problems. There had been at least two boyfriends who stuck around longer than they really wanted to because of her funds. So she’d never thought to prepare Reid for the reality of her life, nor had there been opportunity.

Lia walked over to the balcony doors and opened them wide. “Want to go outside for a while? I’ll get us some drinks.”

Reid dragged his hand along his jaw. “I don’t know what I want. My head feels like a car that hasn’t ever had an oil change. Overheated, poorly performing, and full of crap.” The smile he gave her was filled with sadness.

She squeezed his hand and headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. Reid was leaning against the balcony, staring out into the distance. The deep blue rippling waters of Biscayne Bay had soothed her frayed mind on many occasions. She only hoped it was having the same effect on him.

The look on her best friend’s face had torn her apart. Harper had fluctuated between elation and disappointment. And Reid had looked shell-shocked as he started to put the pieces together, leaving Lia unable and unwilling to pick sides. But the look of abject loneliness on his face when he saw Harper standing with all her friends had forced her to break ranks and stand with him. No one in that situation should be left to stand alone.

“I figured you could use one of these,” Lia said, walking onto the balcony with the drinks.

He took them and placed them on the table next to them. He took both her hands and pulled her toward him. He stroked her skin, as if desperate for contact. “My name is Reid Kennedy . . . but everyone calls me Kenny. Except my sister and parents. I wasn’t trying to deceive you, Lia. It’s just the name I go by.”

“Let’s not worry about that right now. You and Harper are all that matters. We can talk about this at some other point.”

Reid nodded.

“Is it okay to call you Reid?” she asked.

He breathed what she took to be a sigh of relief. “You can call me whatever the fuck you want as long as you are still speaking to me. I’m sorry,” he said, burying his nose into the soft hair at the side of her neck. The scent of him, man and leather, surrounded her, and despite everything going on around them, she was transported back to their previous weekend together, when she’d stripped for him in the warm shades of dusk.

Lia wrapped her arms around his waist. “For what?” she asked.

“For coming down here to make you feel better, only to pull you into all this.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but rubbed her hand up and down his back. It was the kind of gesture she wished her parents had done to her when she was small. Reassuring. Caring even.

He pulled back a little. “Don’t you hate me? For leaving her?” he said quietly.

“When she comes over, are you going to explain why?” She placed her hand over his heart. It beat fiercely.

He covered her hand with his own. “Yes.”

“Good. Because I happen to know she thought the world of you. And I know how much she still misses you and how she hates you in equal measure for abandoning her. So for now, you get the benefit of the doubt.” She thought back to the previous year when Harper had been upset about another of his birthdays passing without any contact. Through her tears, she’d been pissed. Mad that he didn’t think enough of her to miss her. “There’s much more to
her
story than you seem to know. You need to be ready for that.”

“What happened to her, Lia?” he asked. “Because my mind is running to all kinds of places.”

“You know I can’t tell you that.” She wouldn’t betray the confidence she had with Harper, not even for him. “It’s for her to tell you. I will say this, though. I may not have known you very long, but what I do know tells me you’re a good man. You stopped for a stranger on the side of the road, you stood up for that same stranger when she was harassed by a reporter in a restaurant, you helped her get where she needed to go, and I’ve seen the way you are with those boys. Only a good man would do all those things.”

“It was the legs,” Reid said, but she could tell he was trying to deflect her words. “That was why I stopped.”

“It had nothing to do with the legs,” she said, tapping her fingers against his heart. “It had everything to do with what’s in here.” He took her hand in his, and kissed the back of it before kissing her chastely on her lips.

“What if I can’t make this right, Lia?” he asked, his voice cracking.

A buzzer sounded from within the condo.

“Why is she here?” he asked urgently. “Is it something to do with me? Or Nathan? I can’t make it right if I don’t understand it.”

“I have faith in both of you, Reid,” Lia said, wishing she could give him more comfort before she went to let Trent and Harper inside. “They’re on their way up. Why don’t you go take a seat, and I’ll get the door?”

As she walked toward the door, Lia took a deep breath. Reid’s pain had been so real, it had crept through her pores, chilling her.

“Hey,” she said softly as she opened the door. “How are you doing?” she asked as she hugged Harper.

“It still hasn’t hit me he’s here,” Harper whispered. “Is he okay? Do you know where—”

“You need to talk to Reid, Harper. I love you, and I . . . think a lot of him, too. It’s not for me to tell you each other’s stories.”

“Yes or no, Lia,” Trent said. “He’s not going to say things that’ll upset Harper, is he?”

Her chest tightened a little at Trent’s tone, so she reached for his hand as she spoke. “I don’t know what he has to say, but whatever it is, you have been my friend for enough years to deal with it, right?” she asked, hopefully. She couldn’t bear the thought of it coming between them.

Trent let out a deep breath before he pulled her close for a hug, kissing her on the top of her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m kinda tense right now.”

Lia led them into the living room where Reid was now standing, and encouraged them all to sit. Not needing to ask what their usual drink orders were, she went back to the kitchen and returned with another beer and a glass of white wine.

“Shit,” Reid said. He placed his head in his hands. “I don’t even know where to begin. What happened, Taylor? Why are you here? What did I—”

“Instead of questions,” Trent interrupted, “why don’t you tell us what happened to you? And her name is Harper.”

Reid looked over at his sister. “Sorry, it’ll take time to get used to calling you something else.”

Lia moved next to him on the sofa and ran her hand up and down his back. Whatever had happened in the past, it felt wrong to let him go through this alone.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

Reid sat back and looked at her, his brown eyes filled with pain.

She nodded softly to encourage him to go on.

He looked over toward Harper and Trent, and exhaled loudly. “Harper, I can’t even begin . . . to say . . . shit, sorry isn’t enough. Ask me anything. What do you want to know?”

Lia felt Reid’s spine straighten under her hand and she could feel him breathe deeply. But more importantly, she saw Harper lean forward toward him. She could see the hurt in her friend’s eyes.

The shock Lia had felt at learning Reid’s identity was nothing compared to what Harper must be dealing with, but Lia believed him when he said he hadn’t deceived her intentionally. She thought back over everything she knew. Once, Harper had shown her a picture of her brother, but she’d only glanced at it quickly and the details were hazy. She should have figured this out on her own. Chicago? Bikes? Kenny for Kennedy?

“Start where it ended, Reid. The day of the sentencing. Why did you go?” Harper said quietly.

For a moment, Lia wondered whether she should leave. It was such a deeply personal conversation. But Trent was there for Harper, and even though her relationship with Reid was very new, she wanted to be there for him, too.
Please don’t say anything that’s going to make me hate you.

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but you have to believe me. I don’t know how to prove to you that what I’m about to say is true.”

“Tell us anyway,” Harper said.

He took a deep breath. “I left because Dad told me to.”

“What?” she exclaimed, and Trent stood again.

“That’s how you’re going to get through this?” Trent said. “By throwing your own father under the bus?”

“I’m gonna let it slide that you tried to take me out in the street with a sucker punch,” Reid said, getting to his feet, too. “I can even get over the fact that you’re here for this conversation because, judging from that rock on her finger, you are clearly engaged to my sister. But this has got fuck all to do with you.”

“Fuck. All? You have no idea what her life has been like—”

“Trent, please. Let’s just listen to what he has to say.” Harper took hold of Trent’s hand in an attempt to pull him back onto the sofa.

“For God’s sake, sit down, Trent,” Lia said. The last thing they all needed was another posturing brawl. “You, too, Reid.”

Both men sat down finally, but not before they engaged in some weird death-stare standoff.

“Dad has been there for me every step of the way. He was there in the hospital, he came to the trial every day, he was there for the sentencing, and he stood by me afterward when everything was . . . complicated. I don’t get what he could’ve done that would lead you to blame him.”

Lia’s heart cracked a little as she watched Reid put his head back in his hands. “I don’t blame Dad. I blame myself every single day for everything that happened . . .
except
leaving. I was never really the son he wanted, so it probably worked out better this way. Jesus, sis. It’s all so fucking complicated. You said to start at the end, but let me start at the beginning. Nathan came to see me the night he attacked you.”

* * *

Reid could remember every last detail of that night. The flu had laid him out in bed, and at first he’d thought the hammering on the door was just a sinus medication–induced dream. Half-asleep and pissed at being woken he’d not been prepared to face a high Nathan.

“He came to my apartment that night, agitated as hell. He’d been hitting me up for money for a while, so I wasn’t surprised when he asked me for cash, but this time it was a hundred bucks.” In the past, it had been a twenty here, a fifty there, and the amount had worried him. “But he already owed me two hundred and fifty dollars, and I felt sick as a dog with the fucking flu, so rather than challenge him over what he already owed, I told him that I didn’t have any. He was acting weird and hyped up, and I didn’t want to deal with it. We fought. I told him he was an addict, told him he needed to get his shit together because he was a mess. He pleaded, then got calmer, then he told me it was all under control, said he was going to ‘fix it.’ I had no idea what he was talking about, figured he was just too buzzed to make sense and that in the morning everything would be fine. So I told him to go home and sleep it off. I sent him home to you.”

Harper covered her mouth with her hand and he felt Lia stand. Silence fell like a damp mist around them. It was everything he’d dreaded, but once the conversation was over, he’d know for certain whether he had any hope for a relationship with either of them.

Lia placed four fresh glasses on the table, and a bottle of Balvenie. She poured everybody a large measure and handed them around before sitting next to him. He’d never been more relieved to feel the warmth of her thigh against his, and without thinking, he ran his hand along it and let it rest on her knee.

Harper took a large sip. “How does all this connect to you leaving?”

“From the moment I arrived at the hospital, I was furious. I wanted to kill that fucker. When those police officers arrived in your hospital room at Nathan’s father’s request to arrest
you
for supposedly assaulting Nathan first, I lost it. I drove to Winston Bell’s house to confront him on trumping up charges. When he let me in, there was Nathan, sitting there in the living room.”

“Oh, God. What did you do?” Harper gasped.

“Hopefully what I would have done, darlin’,” Trent said, before taking a gulp.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t turn out so great. It made me sick,” Reid continued, “that Nathan, thanks to all his father’s connections, was home while you were handcuffed to a fucking hospital bed. I charged toward Nathan, got a few punches in, but Winston pulled a gun. As much as I wanted to kill the guy, I knew Mom wouldn’t be able to deal with both of us in the hospital, or worse, one of us dead. So I stopped. Told Nathan that I couldn’t wait to give testimony and tell a jury about his increasing drug habit and how high he’d been the night before. When I told Winston that he was a fucking cocksucker for having you arrested, the old man said there was an easy way to make your arrest go away. He’d drop all charges against you if I pretended that I hadn’t seen Nathan the night before.”

“Are you okay, darlin’?” Trent said to Harper, pulling her closer. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’m sorry, Reid . . . I just need . . .” Harper took a deep breath. “Give me a minute.”

Reid looked at how Trent had his hand placed on Harper’s lower back, and he thought about the scars she must have. What kind of deranged man took a knife to his girlfriend that way, carving a sick statement of ownership into her skin? He remembered driving her home from the hospital. She’d sobbed the entire way. Every bump in the road, every time he’d had to brake, she’d cried out. Eventually she’d unfastened her seat belt, leaning forward in the seat slightly to ease the pressure on her back and ribs.

Though she’d obviously healed externally, had she healed inside as well?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For the most part, I can handle conversations about that night, but this is just too . . . raw, I guess.” Tears filled her eyes, and Reid felt like the biggest shit for putting them there.