Freefall (13 page)

Hammond turned back to me. “No more straying from the original art, or I’m not going to finish paying for the damn thing.”

I stared coldly back at him but didn’t say a word. I turned to walk back into the tattoo room, and Scotlyn’s soft footsteps followed. Within seconds, Hammond was back on his phone. The irritating sound of his voice was something I would definitely not miss.

I walked to the back corner to pull some clean napkins from the container. I turned around and Scotlyn was directly in front of me. She wrapped her arms around me and placed her face on my chest. My arms went around her, and I held her tightly against me.

Hammond’s grating tone bounced off the walls of the front room. How badly I wanted the guy to explode and vanish from the earth forever.

“I spoke to my grandmother,” I said quietly, assuming she did not mention my connection in any possible job.

She pulled her face from my chest and peered up at me with her incredible blue eyes.

Unable to stop myself, I leaned down and kissed her. “She is expecting you tomorrow. Do you still want to do it?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

Reluctantly, I dropped my arms. That asshole would be coming in any second to find out why he couldn’t hear the buzz of my equipment.

Scotlyn removed her sweatshirt and hung it on the hook. She pulled her pad of paper out of her pocket before she sat on the table. “Does she know I can’t talk?”

I nodded. “And I left a note for her on the door so she’ll know who you are when you show up.” I glanced toward the front room. “I have to say, I’m kind of surprised he went for it.”

She bit her lip as she wrote, a habit I’d grown to love. “I had to do some bartering to get my way.”

I read it, and a ball of cold lead dropped in my stomach. I couldn’t stand the thought of his hands on her.

Scotlyn sensed that I was upset, and she waved her hand quickly to tell me I was wrong. The pen dug into the paper as she wrote. “I had to promise that I would plan our wedding.”

The lead ball grew. “Is that seriously supposed to make me feel better?”

She added to the bottom of the message. “It was a silent promise, and those don’t count.”

I scooted my stool up next to the table and gazed up at her. Sometimes it was hard for me to believe that I was looking at those eyes, the ones that had gazed back at me from the picture. “Anyone can be with you two for ten seconds and know that you were not meant for him.”

Scotlyn’s posture stiffened as Hammond strolled into the room with his chair. He plunked it down hard on the tile floor and sat. “Let’s go. I don’t have much time.”

I poured the ink. “I thought you wanted this done tonight,” I said.

“Yep. After all, I think the both of us can agree that it would be best if we never saw each other again after this.”

I kept pouring ink. “We can definitely agree on that.” I wanted nothing more than to spin around and throw the bastard against the wall.

I scooted up to Scotlyn and pushed her shirt up and pinned it. “This time I’m going to need you to open your jeans and roll them down below your hip.” I had trouble hiding the hitch in my voice when I thought about her pushing down her jeans. My fingers lifted the tape from the last section of tattoo. He skin was still slightly swollen around the ink lines. I blew lightly on it, and she wiggled from the sensation. She peered down at me with a sly smile. Then she moved her hands down to the tops of her jeans and unbuttoned them. Her blue gaze held mine as she rolled the top of her jeans down below her hip exposing the top of her thong underwear. My pulse surged, and the only thing keeping me in control was the ugly thought that Hammond was sitting back in the corner like an ice cold shower. But he was too fucking clueless to sense the heated tension that had filled the air around Scotlyn and me. Her white teeth pushed into her bottom lip as she slid the thong down too.

Hammond’s phone rang, and I nearly sprang off my stool. His voice echoed off the walls in the small room, and I glared back at him. He got up and walked out. Instantly, I pressed my mouth against her bare hip, and her hand pressed against the back of my head, holding me tighter against her skin. I pulled the jeans down further, and my mouth caressed every inch of her exposed skin. Then Hammond’s voice stopped, and his footsteps drew closer.

I pulled my mouth from her skin and sucked in a labored breath. I looked up at her. “You are going to be the death of me.”

She shook her head, and her fingers touched my face. I picked up the tattoo gun and started my work, but now it was not so easy trying to separate the smooth, naked skin in front of me from the reality that I was supposed to cover it with ink. I wanted to cover it with my mouth and my hands. I wanted to taste every inch of her. I wanted her completely naked and beneath me. I wanted her so badly, I ached.

Once I got started, I realized, as Hammond had suggested, I wanted nothing more than for him to leave my shop so I would never have to look at his face again. His calls had slowed, and he had not given us a reprieve by going out for coffee. I finished the tattoo quickly.

He elbowed his way past me to look at it. “It’s pretty swollen still.”

“Yeah,” I said. “There’s not much I can do about that. It should be fine in a few days.” Scotlyn pulled up her jeans and unpinned her shirt before spinning around on the table.

Hammond pulled out his wallet. “I still owe you four hundred eighty. Do you have twenty bucks change?”

I pulled out my wallet and plucked out a twenty to hand to the guy.

“Let’s go, Babe. I’ve got someplace to be.” He walked out of the back room, and I turned back to look at Scotlyn. She was still sitting on the table staring down at something in her hand.

I walked over to her, and it felt as if I’d been hit in the gut. She lifted the tiny crumpled picture of herself and looked at me questioningly.

I swallowed hard trying to think how I could explain it. Nothing reasonable came to me.

“Let’s move, Scotlyn,” Hammond called from the front door.

“I found it a year ago,” my throat was thick, “and I kept it . . .” I’d lost her. I was sure of it.

She handed it back to me and walked out. Stunned, I watched them walk out and climb into the Porsche. I stood there as if someone had just walked into Freefall and shot me in the chest. Then the front door opened, and Scotlyn came scurrying in. My heart stopped again as she went past me to grab the sweatshirt she’d forgotten. But then she walked back over to me and threw her arms around my neck. She kissed me hard, and Hammond had to lay on the horn twice before she pulled away.

C
HAPTER 16

Scotlyn

I’d not heard Lincoln come in until three in the morning, and he was still snoring heavily at eight o’clock as I slipped quietly out of bed. I wasn’t even sure if he knew that I was going to go to my new job today or not. We were barely communicating at all anymore. He was so tied up with whatever stuff he’d gotten into, he rarely talked to me, and I had no energy or will to pull out my paper and write for him.

I showered and dressed quickly and slid one of my large notepads and favorite pens out of the nightstand drawer. I’d gone online to arrange for a taxi to pick me up and drive me to the bus stop just in case. Lincoln had forgotten the money he’d promised for the taxi ride, but I had a few dollars stashed away. I was definitely not going to wake the man and ask for cash. He might have rethought this whole thing. My main goal was to slip out of the house quickly and without notice.

Deciding I shouldn’t show up to Nix’s grandmother’s house in faded jeans, I pulled on a sundress. I grabbed my purse and dropped in my pen, phone, the money, and the bus numbers I needed. Lincoln groaned in his sleep and flipped to his other side. I stood frozen until his snores started up again. Then I walked out of the room and headed down the stairs. The exhilaration I felt from knowing I was going out on my own to do this felt like the sweetest chunk of freedom. My stomach fluttered nervously at the thought of it, but I was completely ready for this.

The taxi pulled up just as I stepped out of the front door. I handed the driver a note with the correct bus stop corner. He looked at it and off we went. I paid him and hopped out. I had ten minutes until the next bus. I sat back against a real estate broker’s smiling face and phone number. A woman dragging a wheeled cart filled with groceries sat next to me. She smiled and offered me a grape. I shook my head and missed the polite words my mom and dad had ingrained in me growing up.

“It’s a warm day,” she said.

I smiled and nodded. While on the streets, I’d managed to get by often with just facial gestures and body language. Some of the people I’d hung around with hadn’t even realized I was mute. They’d just assumed I was really shy. The woman stopped our one-sided conversation, and I felt bad. The familiar sound and smell of the bus coasted up the block and it stopped at the bench. I climbed on and paid my fare.

I’d been living in a world of stainless steel, glass, and Italian leather. The jarring, crowded bus ride felt like old times. It was gritty and real. Just months after moving in with Lincoln, I’d come to the stark realization that I was not made for his pompous, lush lifestyle. My parents had owned a health food store, and material wealth had been the last of their priorities. The floors of our small, but cozy, house had been covered with large mats made of hemp, and my parents had smoked plenty of it too. My mom burned soy candles all the time, and we would sit on giant floor pillows to eat dinner. Laughter was part of our daily routine. Aunt Marcie had used the little bit they’d had to pay for funeral expenses, my medical bills, and what she’d deemed necessary to take care of me, her fourteen-year-old burden.

After I’d gotten off the second bus, I pulled out my Google map. If the map was right, then I was just a few blocks from Nana’s house. I pulled out my phone. My fingers were a bit shaky about the whole adventure, but I managed to write a coherent text to Nix. “I’m a few blocks away.”

It took him a minute to respond. “I’ll call her right now and remind her that you’re coming.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank you for trying this, Scotlyn.”

“I’m so excited,” I wrote back.

“Scotlyn, I should have told you about the picture.” I would never forget the stiff expression on his handsome face when he’d seen that I was holding the picture. At first I’d been completely confused by it. I thought maybe it had flown out of Lincoln’s wallet, but then it hit me— Lincoln wasn’t sentimental enough to carry a memento of my short pin-up career. And when I saw Nix’s face, I knew it belonged to him. I’d felt completely flattered by it and I knew then that there was a reason we’d met.

I looked at my phone and typed. “Like you said, you were meant to find me.”

There was a long pause before his next message came back. “Text me if you need anything.”

The house was cute and quaint and slightly disheveled. Just the way I’d imagined it. I lifted my hand to knock, but the door opened before my knuckles made contact.

Nix’s grandmother smiled and reached for my hand. “You must be—” she lifted a note with her other hand and squinted at the writing. “Scotlyn.”

I nodded.

Her gray-blue eyes smiled, creasing the lines around them. “That Alex has always had an eye for true beauty.”

Nana was exactly as I’d pictured her, frail and gray but with a wise face and a fragrance of powder and roses. Growing up I’d never had any grandparent. My dad had not talked to his parents since he’d left home at sixteen. He’d always told me he could not have gotten out of there fast enough. Wretched Aunt Marcie was his sister, and they’d never gotten along either. My mom was an only child raised by a single mom. Her mom died of cancer the year before I was born. The cancer incident was what had prompted my parents to start a health food store. They worried a lot about good health. Unfortunately, they had never worried much about dying in a car accident.

Nana led me into her kitchen. I pulled out my notepad and pen. She looked puzzled. I took hold of the note she held and pointed to where Nix had written about the memoirs.

She looked at the words and then laughed. “Oh yes, of course. Forgive me. Occasionally I forget things.” She looked slightly embarrassed about it, and I wanted badly to tell her not to be. “Where are my manners? Would you like some tea?”

Now I was embarrassed. I hated having always to resort to primitive head shaking responses. I pulled out my small notepad and wrote. “No, thank you.”

“Before we start, let me show you some pictures of Alexander as a boy. He was so handsome. Just like his father.” There was a long row of framed pictures lined up along the mantle. She reached for one with a man standing in front of a race car. “This was Alex’s dad, Alexander Nixon Pierce.” Complete and utter admiration poured from her expression as she stared down at the picture. I wondered how often during the day she looked at it.

“He was handsome like Alex,” I wrote.

“Yes, they looked very much alike.” She placed the picture back on the mantle and picked up another one. It was Nix standing on a boat. He looked about eighteen, and he looked like a total troublemaker. Nana laughed. “I have to admit, he is even more handsome than his father. His mother, Linda, was very beautiful, very exotic.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, she was a disappointment in every other way.” She stared at Nix’s picture as if she was trying to remember his face and then she put it back on the mantle. “Would you like some tea—” she still held Nix’s note, and she glanced at it, “Scotlyn?”

Conveniently, I still held my reply in my hand. I showed it to her and then stored it in my dress pocket for safe keeping. Something told me I’d need it again soon.

We went in to sit at the table. There was a cute caddy filled with silverware and an antique corner cabinet that had been painted red standing behind the table. It was filled with an array of different dishes that reminded me of my mom’s eclectic collection. My mom had always told me matching dinnerware was for fussy people who had nothing better to do with their lives than pick out china patterns.