“Roll and drop, roll and drop,” I yelled at Hazel like a madman from the sidelines.
We were halfway through round two and so far, it was a tie. My girl had demolished Janice Patino in the first round, but Janice had made a swift comeback for round two. She was fast, her fists were brutal, and she was a beast on the mat. That didn’t mean I wasn’t confident Hazel could win overall, but with Maya and Manny sitting front row – neither one looking pleased to be seated beside the other – I was afraid she’d be too distracted, kind of like she was right now.
Janice flung her into the cage, and rather than put her full focus into turning this thing around, she kept glancing toward Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb, her brow furrowed.
God damn it.
I was starting to get really pissed, and I knew that if I didn’t do something, the outcome would not be good. Pivoting away from the cage, I stalked toward Manny and dropped down beside him on my haunches.
“She’s distracted. I need you to get Maya out of here, or at least to the back where Hazel can’t see her.”
Manny didn’t quite seem to understand what I was getting at, but nonetheless, he nodded dutifully and turned to Maya, who sat with her arms crossed, eyes staring blankly ahead.
“We need to move back,” he said to her, but she didn’t acknowledge him, boiling my blood all the more.
This is exactly what my girl had been referring to and since coming to Seattle, it had only gotten worse. I couldn’t understand why Maya was acting like this. Yes, she’d been in an abusive relationship, but Manny wasn’t her husband, and he certainly wasn’t abusive. She’d asked for protection and that protection was sitting right beside her, but she wouldn’t give him the time of day, regardless of all the effort he put in. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that, though. I had a girl who needed to get through a fight, and to do that, she needed me present as her coach.
“Maya, we need to move back,” Manny said again, and with a roll of her eyes, she shot out of her seat and started up the aisle to the back...without him.
“Handle it, please,” I pleaded, snapping my head toward the octagon when the crowd around us groaned pitifully. Hazel was down on the mat underneath Janice, again. “I’ll buy you however many beers you want once we get out of here.”
I didn’t stand around to wait for his response. My girl was struggling and I needed to be as close to her as possible if I was going to help her through this. Grabbing onto the cage, I watched the madness unfold before my very eyes. Janice loomed over her, tossing her fists in Hazel’s face like lightning speed. Despite the fact she was covering, Janice was still getting them in, each one packing more of a punch than the last.
“Fling her off, baby! She’s upright, fling her off,” I roared, my heart pounding a little faster with each hit she took.
Swinging her legs to one side, Hazel followed my command and flung Janice off of her. She mounted her with a quickness and returned the same brutal favor, smashing her face once, twice, three times, before Janice bucked her off, her nose bleeding once again from the force of Hazel’s fists. My girl rolled some ways, stumbling onto her feet. She was panting heavily and her stubborn brow had split anew, brown trained firmly on her opponent.
“Li-on-ess, Li-on-ess,” the arena chanted as she and Janice prowled around each other.
“Give it up,” I saw Janice mouth, which only kicked my girl into high gear. She came out with a feral growl, jabbing in a one-two combo that would’ve caught Janice had she not dodged. The problem with her dodge was that she threw an arm out, grabbing Hazel around the waist, and with quick footing, they were back on the mat with a loud thud.
Jesus Christ.
I gripped the chain links tighter, my knuckles white from the strain, as they went back and forth with a dominating position. Janice was up, then Hazel, then Janice again, and then Hazel once more. All she had to do was take a hold of that arm and drape herself across her opponent's body, but then she looked over to where I stood.
No.
Her eyes flared and I knew what she’d seen. The two seats up front were empty now and although I was right beside the cage, panic flooded her. Before the warning could even leave my mouth, Janice slammed Hazel onto her back, wove her arm between her legs, and pulled. My girl howled in pain, the sound almost bursting me through the cage walls. Her eyes bulged and I knew it was over before it even happened. Janice pulled, and pulled and, with a quick hand, Hazel tapped the mat.
Fuck.
Janice shot up to her feet, throwing her arms in the air gleefully while my girl laid there, out of breath, staring at the ceiling. I ran like a bullet to the door and threw open the lock, bounding my way inside as the announcer and the ref worked together to deem Janice the victor.
Dropping beside Hazel in a flash, I took one look at the defeated expression on her face, and hoped with every fiber of my being that the aftermath of this loss wouldn’t send her into downward spiral.
Just two days after returning home from Seattle, Amari’s PA reached out again to inform me Mr. Dorsette wanted to proceed with a putting together a contract. When she'd called, I was on the way to Steel Ink for an appointment I'd made with my tattoo artist over a month ago. Quite the way to celebrate, huh? New ink to kick off this new chapter of my career. If all worked out well with him, who knew what this meant for the future. I’d already had an influx in clients when the media named me as Hazel’s coach, but none of those clients were on this level. Being exposed as Amari’s trainer could be absolutely huge.
I was a ball of energy as I pulled open the familiar glass door and bounded inside the shop, the telltale door chime sounding off loud enough to be heard in the tattoo rooms at the very back. I hadn't even called Hazel yet because one, I didn’t want to rub the news in her face after her loss in Seattle and two, I didn't want her knowing I was here. All I'd told her this morning before I left was that Luis and I were going out for a couple beers, and that was that. She never asked questions, which in this case was obviously a good thing. This tat would be a complete surprise to her and I wanted it to stay that way until I got home. I could hardly wait to hear what she’d have to say about the new addition and of course, with the right words, the news of my new client. Hopefully both would pick up her spirits a bit.
Pixie, a long-time friend and ex-coworker, came barreling out from the piercing room with a clamp lodged in her gloved hand. Her short yet messy lavender hair spilled over her eyes as she smiled brightly. Blowing the wayward strands away, she inched toward the counter in her knee-high combat boots.
“Well, if it isn't Knox-motherfucking-Carr.”
“Sup, Pix. Busy?” I asked, motioning toward the clamp with my chin.
“Three tongues. Youngins with no other piercings. I don't know why I'm wasting my time. They're gonna rip them out the second their tongues swell.”
“Fuck it, they're paying you. Let ’em blow the money.”
She giggled and shrugged. “So, what are you doing on this side of town?”
“I've got an appointment with Pun. Didn't you see the schedule?”
“I literally just got here maybe thirty minutes ago. I had fucking jury duty today.”
Sucking in a heap of air through my teeth, I cringed a little. “That sucks balls.”
“Sure does,” she agreed with a whine. “Alright, let me finish up with these chicks real quick. Make yourself at home. I'll let Big Pun know you're here.”
I flashed her a wink and went to sit on one of the black leather-studded couches laid around the front of the shop. Nothing had changed since the last time I'd been here. Literally nothing. The walls, although slightly faded, were the same deep red. The checkerboard floors were still intact, more scuffed in some places, but still intact. The display cases were the same, the art catalogues; everything was the fucking same. I chuckled to myself as memories of when I used to work here came rushing back.
Bang, bang, bang!
“Yo, Biggie,” Pixie belted out as she knocked her fist against Pun’s door. “Your next one is here.”
“Send him to the other room. I'm almost done.”
Pixie whistled and I knew that meant something along the lines of get your ass over here, so I shot up to my feet and made my way around the counter to the back. When Pun had said the other room, I'd figured he meant the room I’d mentored in, but instead, Pixie led me to the room I never wanted to step foot in again.
“Sit wherever you'd like. You know how this shit goes. I'll be right back,” she said, stepping aside to let me in.
The hairs at the nape of my neck rose to attention when I caught sight of the chair, a chair I was unfortunately very familiar with. I didn't say a word to Pixie as I begrudgingly fell into the seat and waited for Pun to pull me the fuck out of here. I could've cussed him out for throwing me in here in the first place, considering he knew damn well what went down in here, but I chose to keep my mouth shut. No point in arguing over something temporary. Sighing deeply, I let my eyes drift around the room, the distant buzz of Pun’s machine mellowing me out just a bit. The only thing that had changed in this godforsaken room was the black walls, now barely visible beneath the sea of sketches adorning them.
“Well shit, I would never have thought you were my last client for the night, especially since you’ve been ignoring my texts.”
Oh, hell no.
Inwardly cringing at the sound of her voice, I turned my head slowly as she sashayed toward me with a satisfied smirk playing on her lips and a file in her hands.
“I'm not. I booked with Pun over a month ago.”
“Don't sound so happy to see me, baby. You know Pixie lurks. She might get the wrong idea.”
“Pixie knows damn well I'm here to see Pun,” I gritted out.
“Geez, what crawled up your ass?” she cooed, leaning back against the counter, which in turn inched up her tank top, exposing miles of ink-adorned curves.
A purposeful move, obviously.
“You, that's what,” I deadpanned in response.
Brie scoffed a laugh and rolled her eyes behind her edgy glasses. “Um, I don't think so. If anything, it'd be you crawling up my ass with that big ass di-”
“Can you shut up and just get the hell out?”
“Actually, no, I can't. Pun sent me in here to prep you while he finishes up with his client.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Cross my heart, Big Daddy. He didn’t expect the session to run over, but it turns out” – she held a hand to her mouth and whispered – “guy in the chair is a total pussy.”
“Do not. Go there, Brie,” I snapped. “In fact, why don’t you show yourself out and have Pixie come in.”
“I would, but, she’s kinda sorta piercing a clit right now, so you’re stuck with me. And don’t even ask about Troy because he’s gone for the night. Besides, you can’t tell me this doesn’t bring back good memories.”
“It doesn’t, actually. Just do what you gotta do and run along your merry little way.”
“Yes, Daddy, whatever you say. The piece is going on your chest, correct?”
“Yeah, left chest. And please, fucking stop with that shit, seriously.”
“Shirt off,” she said dismissively, skimming through my thick ass file.
Begrudgingly, I whipped my shirt off over my head and laid it across the armrest just as she muttered a “Fuck,” and stretched a colorful arm out to press a button on the intercom not too far away. She called for Pixie three times until, finally, the lavender-haired fairy answered back.
“What’s up, B?”
“I need Knox’s design. It’s not in the file.”
“It’s probably still in Pun’s room. I’ll bring it right in. Give me a sec.”
“Thanks, sugar tits.”
Turning back to where I sat, Brie’s mischievous eyes darted to mine. Then they roamed over me in an appreciative fashion that made my skin crawl. She licked her lips on her ascent and trapped the ball of her piercing between her teeth, a habit she’d developed since the damn thing healed.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer,” I growled, annoyed.
“Oh, believe me, I still have tons,” she purred, opening a drawer for a fresh pair of gloves.
My head jerked back. “Tons of what?”
“Tons of old pics. Of you, of your dick, of us, of us fucking. They're great orgasm enhancers.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered under my breath, thankful I hadn't brought Hazel with me. She would've had Brie on the floor in a headlock by now.
“Don’t act so surprised, baby. Together or not, I’m never getting rid of those.”
“You should, though. I don’t exactly care for you fantasizing about me while you’re getting yourself off.”
Knock, knock!
“It’s me,” Pixie said sweetly as she pushed open the door, abruptly halting our heated discussion.
I flashed her a look that screamed “Thanks a lot,” and she flashed an apologetic one in return, handing Brie yet another file.
“Thanks, Pix.”
She nodded and gulped under my unappeased stare pinning her in place. “Need some help?”
“Naaah, I got it,” Brie drawled, rendering Pixie useless in the equation.
With another remorseful peek in my direction, she retreated to the door and quickly scurried back to the front of the shop, leaving me – once again – all alone with my ex.
After a silent beat or two, Brie pulled the small design from the folder and held it out to me, looking hardly amused.
“Her name? Really? And above your heart, no less?”
I grinned, knowing the sight of it was hitting her right where it hurt. Perhaps having her prep me wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Yep, right where it belongs.”
“But you wouldn't get mine? That’s kinda fucked up. We were together much longer than you and her.”
“It's a damn good thing I didn't. I would've felt like a massive asswipe, especially after what you did,” I countered, and she rolled her eyes.
“Good grief, you're never going to forgive me for that, are you?”
“Why would I?”
“Because forgiveness brings closure.”
A sarcastic, hushed chuckle erupted deep within my chest, my shoulders bobbing up and down as a result. “I had plenty of closure, trust me.”
“So why not forgive me then?”
“Because I don't want to, Brie, plain and simple. Now drop it and put the damn thing on my skin already.”
“Okay, Oscar the Grouch.” Her voice was suddenly annoyed. “And for the record, it was a mistake I regret, in case I hadn't made myself clear on that part yet.”
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” I sneered. “Either way, it's irrelevant.”
“Why?”
“Because you're irrelevant, as you can see from the script you're holding in your hands.”
Bright blue eyes bulged from their sockets as she reared her head. “Ouch. Not nice, Carr.”
“Yeah, well, cheating on me wasn't nice either, but here we are.”
Silence.
And it remained silent while she cleansed the spot and double checked it was free of any stray hairs. Not that I had any, seeing as most of my torso was tatted in its entirety, but it was standard procedure, with or without previous tats. Given her sudden tight-lipped demeanor, I assumed the rest of the process would be quick and painless, but fuck was I wrong. Rather than just placing the outline where it was obviously meant to go, Brie straddled my thigh and pushed at my chest.
“Get off me,” I gritted out almost immediately.
“Relax, will you?” she huffed. “You act like I'm gonna strap you to the chair, whip your dick out, and ride you into next week. I just wanna get it on right so it doesn't interfere with my work. Lay back.”
Glaring a hole through her head – to which she exaggeratedly glared right back – I threw myself into the seat as instructed and shut my eyes. I never wanted her to be this close to me again and yet she was, all because Pun’s session had run over. That cocksucker was still screaming like a little bitch in his chair and he was lucky I had manners, otherwise he would've found himself outside the shop on his ass right about now, with a half-finished tattoo.
Brie, of course, took advantage of the moment and climbed into my lap in a completely unprofessional manner. I presumed our spat and the fact I was getting my girlfriend’s name tattooed on my body was egging her on. Maybe if I just laid real still and paid her no mind, it would deviate her from trying anything further.
After another cool swipe of alcohol to hold the outline in place, Brie finally smoothed Hazel’s name on my skin and peeled back the paper. My eyes snapped open to find her leaning back as she observed the script that would soon be a permanent part of me. I could see the tiniest hint of envy swimming in her stare, and knew it was taking everything in her not to flip out and beg for forgiveness. I didn’t miss the deep breath she took either, as if reining herself in from making herself look like a fool. Rather than putting an end to the situation and sparing us both another minute of disquietude, her gaze traced over the lines and colors seared into my skin.
“I remember inking this on you,” she said with a laugh, as if various moments were playing out for her in a mental reel. “Every session we’d inch lower and lower until that thing was in my face. It was so hard to keep myself in check. Remember how good it felt when I finally pulled it out and deep-”
“Get off,” I gritted out, cutting her off.
But she went on because it wouldn’t be Brie if she didn’t, at the very least, try to evoke the reaction she desired.
“Or when I let you rail me from behind on this very chair after hours? God, we went at it like animals and made such a mess that night.” She giggled, rolling her hips into me; her long, manicured nails clawing down my chest.
“I said, get off.”
“Or how about when you pierced my clit after burying your face in my pussy for what felt like hours. That was amazing, and the sex we had after I healed was mind-blowing. Remember that? Remember how I used to beg you to fuck me harder…Yes, Daddy, harder. Pleeease,” she moaned, the sound eerily and uncomfortably accurate to what her moans actually sounded like.
“Get off me, now, or I'll get you off,” I growled, almost menacingly.
“Fuck yes, talk dirty to me,” she cooed, completely unfazed.
Right then and there.
That’s the moment I’d had enough.
In seconds, I was on my feet and promptly discarding her without care onto the chair. A wicked grin split across her face as though she were expecting some alternate ending, but I snuffed that one out real quick when I grabbed my tee off the armrest and slipped it over my head en route to the door. I slammed it behind me on my way out and immediately noted the buzzing in the other room come to a halt. Pun’s giant stomps echoed behind me and then his door flew open.
“Yo, man, everything cool?”
“Fuck no, it's not,” I snapped, just as Pixie came barreling out of the piercing room.
“What the hell is going on,” she squeaked.
“Brie, that's what,” I hissed.
She and Pun shared a look I understood. They were not pleased, and instantly remorseful of their decision to leave us unattended.
“I’ll get rid of her. She has no use being here for the rest of the night, really. Grab a beer from the fridge in the back and make yourself at home. I’ll be done with this dude in the next five minutes,” he offered.
Fuck that.
All I wanted was to get home to my girl and erase this shit from my mind; pretend it never happened.
“It’s all good, bro. I’ll come back another day. I’m way too fired up to sit through a session now, no matter how short.”
“Fuck, I never should’ve asked her to help me out. My bad, Carr, for real.”
“Don’t sweat it. You, however,” I said, pointing a warning finger at Pixie. “I know you didn’t schedule me for today, but the next time I call to schedule something, make sure she’s off for the day. I don’t wanna see her within ten feet of me. Hell, I don't even wanna hear her voice.”
Pix nodded, green eyes wide, and as Brie emerged from the room she'd cornered me in, I stormed out of the shop and hightailed it to the parking lot behind the building, wondering whether I should tell Hazel what happened or keep that stomach-churning bit of information to myself forever.