Once Upon a Time
Kathleen was my best friend despite the fact she was one of those girls who always spoke with a high-pitched squawk in an attempt to sound cute in front of the boys. Although I’d told her it was a terrible idea, she’d somehow convinced me we just had to get a tattoo. Kathy had told me that she’d heard it was a rite of passage, that all the seniors were doing it. Apparently, it was considered sacrilege to start your senior year at Pioneer Lake High without the customary ink. She’d said that all the kids who supposedly mattered got three wavy lines symbolizing lake water for our school’s “Lakers” theme. What was a Laker anyway? This would be our first year at the notoriously wealthy establishment. We’d originally gone to West High, but they divided the county lines in an attempt to give us “less fortunate kids” a better education.
A tease at a better life as they dangled an unattainable hope, just out of reach, before sending us back to our stark reality at the end of every day.
Regardless of my hesitation, or Kathy’s good sense, we found ourselves parked in front of Avenues Ink tattoo shop at ten p.m. on a warm, summer night. I stared at my image in the rearview mirror of Kathy’s car. My eyes swallowed the reflection, and I began to dissect myself like usual. I’d always been the girl who had dreams beyond this small metropolis. The girl whose beauty could change her life if she let it, but as my eyes focused, all I saw in that mirror was the girl who could never escape her drunk father’s hand. My fingers raised to the barely visible bruise across my cheekbone, and I was only able to manage a few blinks before tears began to surface. The shimmering eye make-up I’d applied framed my big brown eyes, and the deep blood red lipstick solidified the illusion. But the filth that lay below the surface wasn’t so easy to hide.
Kathy noticed my tears. “It’s going to be fine. You look at least nineteen. These guys don’t care, as long as we have money… come on, Kelly, stop gazing at your perfect face and let’s go get our tattoos!”
Kathy had known me long enough, and knew better than to use a word like perfect, but she’d always used humor to lighten my changing moods. The reality of my home life was mine alone, though at times, when she stared at me, I wondered if she saw the sickness under my flesh. We both came from poverty, but where I came from anger, she came from love. I chose to keep her in the dark for her own safety and to pad my pride.
I lightly wiped away any stray tears, grateful for waterproof mascara, and said, “If you do it, I’ll do it.”
Kathleen squealed as usual and I allowed myself to smile. I sucked in a breath, watching my lips part inside the reflection. Perfect. The word sank deep into the hollow of my stomach.
“Let’s just hope our dazzling, convenience store salaries can afford it.” Kathy joked as she shut off the engine and gave me a wide smile.
The place was a hive, buzzing with some unknown hum, and the rich smell of leather coated my lungs as I inhaled. I clasped my hands in front of me to mask my shaking fingers as we approached the front desk. A woman with a shaved head and a face that had more piercings than I could count narrowed her eyes at Kathy and me.
“Are you girls lost?”
Her voice was a low purr, and every instinct I had clogged my throat with nerves. Kathy, however, threw her shoulders back, pulled her wallet from her back pocket, handed the lady her fake ID and asked, “Do you guys take walk-ins or what?” Her usual, saccharine was gone, and instead, each word was laced with hardcore attitude.
My smile didn’t go unnoticed, and the lady rolled her eyes. “Liam,” she shouted, not taking her eyes off either of us.
I was surprised anyone could hear her over the noise, but not even a few seconds later the most dangerously handsome man I’d ever seen scowled at me as he came around the partition. I was tall for a girl, five-eight to be exact, and even though he wasn’t towering over me, his broad shoulders demanded attention. His dark brown eyes were framed by thick lashes, his ears and nose were pierced, and the cords of muscle in his arms, though hidden below an incredible amount of ink, moved with a tight precision that made my cheeks warm.
“Can you take two walk-ins, Liam?”
I interrupted, “Oh, I’m not sure… I mean I’m still thinking—”
“Scared, Princess?” he cut me off and his lips pulled into a cocky grin.
Princess.
The flutter of butterflies in my stomach almost weakened my voice, but I held my ground. “Not at all. I’m here for a consultation, she’s the one getting ink.”
Kathy’s eyes widened. “You promised.” Her previous hard edge dissipated as her voice returned to its highest octave.
“Whatever you say, Prin—”
I lifted my hand interrupting him. “I think it’s safe to say you don’t know me well enough yet for clichéd pet names.”
He raised his eyebrows, another smirk toying at the corners of his mouth. “Fair enough.” He pointed to Kathy. “Fill out the forms with Sue, and you…” He showered me with the full weight of his gaze. “Follow me.”
I liked how his voice was deep enough to command my legs to move without my approval. The cocky smile he had showed his youth as his eyes moved lazily up and then down my body once before he turned and headed deeper into the tattoo shop.
“I’ll be right there.” Kathy’s smile was outrageous, but nevertheless a giggle escaped my lips as I turned to follow him.
I walked past three stations, and they all were modeled the same. Liam’s was no different. It was set against a weathered brick wall and had dark brown leather tables. Wooden shelving lined the walls and were littered with supplies. I assumed some of the smaller containers were ink, but I was naïve when it came to this sort of thing. I let my hand trail along the soft, worn leather of the table as I moved closer to the back of his station.
“How old are you?” he asked, and his breath tickled the back of my neck. I jumped at his close proximity. A quiet chuckle lifted my eyes to the full-length mirror on the back wall and those brooding brown eyes found mine in the reflection.
“I’m old enough.”
He huffed out a laugh and ran his hand through his dark brown hair. He had it styled into a Mohawk, the sides shaved very short and the top was slicked back and hung just below his neckline. “Old enough?”
His dismissive tone irked me, even if he could see right through my façade. I turned to face him, but, coming eye to eye with him like this, my inexperience would definitely show, so I dropped my eyes to the table.
“Kathy and I were supposed to get matching tattoos before school starts, but I’m not sure—”
“School?”
I scrambled. “Yeah, at the U.”
I peeked at him from under my lashes and noticed his lips were set into a firm line.
“You got ID?” he finally asked.
“I’m not even sure I’m going through with it.”
“The hell you aren’t.” Kathy hopped onto the leather table and shot me a wicked grin. “Liam, right?” She held out her hand, but he just stared at it. She exhaled noisily through her light pink lips and pinned me with her eyes. “After I’ve done it, after you’ve seen that one can survive the pain… it’s your turn. I told our friend, Sue, you’ll be up in a bit for paperwork.”
I was seeing Kathy’s bossy side for the first time tonight, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
“Have a seat.” Liam pointed to one of the two small stools in his station.
I assessed him as I sat down, but he was too hard to read once his smirk was gone. The planes of his face showed no emotion; his eyes had even paled. Cold but still sexy as the muscle in his jaw pulsed once and then again when he nodded his chin at the stool. I obeyed and sat down. He rewarded me with a small smile before Kathy grabbed his attention and started talking placement and needle hygiene.
The buzz of his machine set my pulse into an unhealthy rhythm once he began his work on Kathy. I started to wonder what the hell I was doing here. A couple of the employees walked by and gave me a smile or a nod. All were dark haired, tattooed, and pierced. Kathleen looked so out of place lying on Liam’s table. Her quintessential alabaster and freckled skin to match her strawberry blonde curls. No amount of make-up would ever hide that she was only seventeen. I’d look just as strange on that worn leather table. My father used to say that I had a face that would take me places, but these days, he was hell bent on destroying whatever beauty he’d seen in the first place. I wondered what he’d think if I came home with a tattoo. My body reacted to the thought before I could control it. Any warmth I’d felt earlier turned to ice.
He’d kill me.
“You okay?” A low, gentle voice eased my panicked breathing.
I lifted my head and Liam’s observant eyes softened around the edges. He didn’t seem much older than me. Earlier, under all that muscle and ink, he’d allowed a little of his boyish arrogance to show, but right now, he was looking at me with something I couldn’t place, so I pushed down my anxiety and said, “I’m fine.”
Liam’s brows furrowed. “There’s bottled water in the breakroom. Last door on the left.”
“Thank you.” His eyes lingered on mine when I didn’t immediately stand. “I’m fine… really.”
He nodded once and went back to work on Kathy’s lower back. She’d refused to remove her shirt, so he’d rolled it up, settling the fabric in the middle of her back. It didn’t take long for him to ink the three waved lines onto her left hip, and suddenly it was my turn.
“It didn’t hurt at all,” Kathy assured me as she twisted her head this way and that trying to admire her new pledge to Pioneer Lake High.
“Then why are your eyes watering?” She opened her mouth to interrupt me but I continued, “And, I’m pretty sure you yelped.”
“I did not yelp.” She shook her head and frowned.
“You did, three times, actually. And jumped… almost fucked it up.” Liam laughed and smoothed his hand over his jaw.
“Whatever. It’s your turn, Kelly. You promised.”
Liam’s eyes flicked to mine when she said my name. “Yeah, Kelly… you promised,” he teased, barely able to hide his smile.
I ignored him. My palms were sweating, and my heart was in my throat. My dad would definitely, without a doubt, flip. He smacked me across the face today for “accidentally” knocking over his Jim Beam.
It’d been too tempting watching the bottle hover over the ledge. He’d been too drunk to notice that he hadn’t placed it completely on the counter. I barely had to tap on the surface of the Formica and it had fallen, smashing into flawlessly shaped shards ruining the floor I’d just mopped that morning. I earned this bruise on my face fair and square, and if I came home with a tattoo, I’d be digging my own grave. Part of me wondered how bad it would hurt to die, or was death like silence, calm and pain free? I checked my watch. It wasn’t past my midnight curfew just yet. Dad wouldn’t even know I was out late anyway. He’d passed out before Mom had even woken up for her graveyard shift at Pete’s, the only local grocery store that had lived through the rise of the warehouse-sized shops that offered flour in bulk and socks at fifty percent off.
“Fine, but I’m not getting the waves,” I said as I turned abruptly and walked to the front desk to sign my fate on the dotted line.