Chapter 24
Vaughn
Rayne falls asleep after I took my time to show her how damn sorry I was. I might not be the most deserving of her, but I’m damn sure never taking her for granted. It’s been absolutely killing me that I didn’t tell her earlier about Brad. But much like how he’s kept my shit to himself, I felt it was only right to do the same for him.
The robbery was, out of all the things I’ve done in my life, the thing I regret the most. I might have had shit and have been shit, but I never laid it on anyone else. I never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. I never stole from anyone unless it was already in their garbage. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am, and I’m proud I’ve done it the right way. I never took advantage of anyone, except for the robbery, and I try to forget about it as much as possible. I’ve definitely never told anybody about it.
She’s lying next to me, and I can’t resist running my fingers over her lips. Across her forehead. Down her cheek. Once I know she’s out, I get out of bed and cringe when it squeaks. I really need to get a better place since she’s gonna be living with me. We haven’t actually discussed it, but it’s going to happen.
I grab my phone off the kitchen table and dial Brad.
“Hey.” The loud music from the club almost drowns his voice out.
“Got a minute?”
“Yeah. Let me go to my office.” I wait as I hear him shuffling around and then the background noise goes away. “What’s up?”
“She knows.”
“Fuck,” he yells.
“I had to tell her, since Petey paid me a visit.”
“What the fuck?” He growls the words, and I can picture the vein in his forehead pulsing.
“Came to let me know he was giving me a two-week extension on my mom’s fifteen K.”
“You’re bailing her out? After everything she fucking did?”
I sit down on the couch and rest my neck on the back cushion. “I wasn’t going to. I don’t need that shit back in my life. But . . . fuck, man. If I don’t, I’m signing her death certificate.”
“She wouldn’t think twice about handing you over to fuckin’ Petey, Vaughn. Don’t give in. She might have given birth to you, but she was no mother.” He preaches to me the same thing I know; the harsh truth that still crushes me every time I hear it.
“I know.” I swallow, and the acid burning in my throat slides down and sinks to my gut. “I don’t know if I can have her blood on my hands, too.”
“He died from an overdose. That’s not on you. And with Rose, it’s not your hands. It’s Petey’s. She threw you out of the house when you were twelve so she could use your bedroom to have a train run on her. When it was fifteen degrees outside. She made you—”
“I know. I fucking know, because I was there. I lived it.”
“Then you know she’s not worth it. I’m sorry, Vaughn. I really am, but you cannot ruin what you have going with Rayne by handing over fifteen G’s to Petey. And you and I both know that if you hand that over, you’ll not only be on his radar, but word will spread, too. Use that money to put a down payment on a house. Get a new truck. Go on a cruise. Just don’t waste it on a woman who wished you were never born, because the woman who loves you is the only one who should matter.”
“I know,” I bark. “She is.”
“Then you know what to do.”
“Yeah. Later.”
He hangs up, and I crawl back into bed and hold Rayne, the only one who’s ever actually cared, and the only one who’s worth more than I can ever give her.
* * *
The sound of glass breaking wakes me up, and I reach for Rayne but come up empty. My adrenaline forces me out of bed and into the hallway in a matter of seconds. When I reach the kitchen, I skid to a stop. “Are you okay?”
Rayne whips her head up from her crouched position. “Yes. I dropped the stupid plate because the stupid grease from the stupid bacon got all over my fingers.”
The erratic beat of my heart slows down, and in its place, a slow and steady rhythm takes over. Jesus, just the thought of something bad happening to her nearly gives me a heart attack. I bend down and help her clean up the mess then grab her hand. “Let’s go. I’ll take you out to breakfast.”
She washes her hands and tosses the paper towel on the counter. “Fine. As long as I get bacon.”
“You can have all the bacon you want.”
Her hips sway as she walks closer. “Good, ’cause I’m starving.” She reaches up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “Hurry up and shower.”
“Bossy.”
“Hungry,” she counters.
I rush through a quick shower and drive us to the best pancake house in town.
“What are your plans for the day?” I ask her.
“I was going to run some wedding errands with Kenny. My bridesmaid dress is supposed to be done, and he needs to pick up some party favors.”
“Cool.”
“You’re going, right? I can’t believe we haven’t talked about it sooner.”
I toss my napkin on the table and hand some cash to the waitress. “Yeah. Of course. I wouldn’t miss my own cousin’s wedding.”
She rolls her eyes. “Jerk.”
“Did you take next Sunday off?” The wedding is one week from today.
“Yep. I plan on being hungover and sleeping the day away.”
“Want company?”
“As long as it’s you.”
I lean across the table to kiss her, and when she’s finished eating, we head out. I drop her off at her place, and after walking her inside, I drive straight to the shop. My first appointment is going to be here right away, so I get everything set up and sit on the couch in the waiting room and wait for her to arrive. Luckily, I had a cancellation right before she called a couple of days ago. She sounded really frantic about getting in today.
The door whips open and I look up. “Hey. Are you Mellie?”
“Yes. Vaughn?”
“Yup. If you’re ready, we can start right away.”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I lead her back and gesture for her to put her purse on a chair. “Where did you say you wanted it?”
“I think on my hip.”
I chuckle, and her eyes light up a bit, some of the nerves going away. “You think?”
“No. I know. I know I want it on my hip. I’m sorry.” She wrings her fingers together. “I’m nervous.”
It’s obvious she’s a virgin at this. “It’s okay.” I pat the black vinyl seat. “Hop up and lie down.”
She does as I say and flinches when the cold material touches the back of her legs.
“Can you roll the top of your shorts down and pull your shirt up a bit?”
After a deep breath, she does what I ask.
“You didn’t change your mind about the font or anything, did you?”
“No.”
When I rub her skin with green soap, she flinches and apologizes. “Sorry.”
“No worries.”
I put on a pair of black gloves and grab the transfer paper from the small desk. Before setting it on her skin, I meticulously position it, press it down and then peel it away. I tilt my head back and forth a few times before handing her a mirror. “That look okay?”
With a shaky hand, she takes the mirror and studies the single word: Yours. Sometimes, clients tell me why they’re being tatted, sometimes not. I never pry. “You’re going to add to the background, right?”
“Yeah, I’m just freehanding that. It’ll look like you asked—a broken heart pieced back together.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
I smile at her, and she blushes then drops her head.
When I press my foot on the pedal, and the first vibration hits her skin, she jumps. “Sorry.”
“No biggie. Take a breath.”
“Tell me if you need a break, okay?”
“Yup.”
She closes her eyes, and I submerge myself into my work. My art. A lot of times, I get so immersed I don’t even have a concept of time, but since I’ve been with Rayne, the minutes away from her add up, and I find myself getting antsy.
“Okay, you’re done.”
“What, really?” She couldn’t sound more surprised than if she woke up with horns growing out of her head.
“Yeah, it’s been an hour, babe.” I hand her the mirror. “Take a look.”
She stands, and when the full image reflects in the glass, she almost drops the handle. “Wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“No problem. I’m glad you like it.” I cover it with plastic and tape and go over the care instructions before she pays me.
“Thank you so much. I really do love it.”
I nod toward the hallway. “I’ll walk you out.”
Just as we step out of the room, my phone rings. I pull it out and look to see Petey’s name and hesitate to answer it. I don’t know what the fuck he could want.
“I’ll just walk myself out. It’s okay.” My client interrupts my internal battle.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
I turn around and answer Petey’s call. “What.” He’s not on my list of people I want to talk to. Not just because he had the nerve to come to my place and try to push my mom’s debt onto me, but because he used his crony to put a knife to Rayne’s throat. My sweet, innocent, girl. My shit should never touch her.
“You might want to take a drive, homie.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Stopped by your mom’s. Was gonna let her know she had thirteen more days. Never got to extend my favor, since she was passed out on the couch. OD’d, man.”
I sag against the wall. My palms sweat, and my stomach turns.
“Vaughn.”
“Don’t care.” I hang up and drop my phone on the ground.
“You all right?” Dirt is my next appointment; we’re doing a touch up on his piece, and he obviously took it upon himself to come back here.
My throat feels like cotton balls are shoved down in it, but somehow, I manage to answer. “Yeah.”
I bend down to grab my phone, but my legs are too wobbly, and I fall forward. “Whoa.” Dirt reaches for me and helps me slide to the floor. “What’s up, man?” He slaps the side of my face to get my attention.
“She’s dead.”
“Who?”
“Petey called.”
“Fuck.”
“Said he went to pay her a visit and found her OD’d.” As I tell him, I begin to regain my bearings. Lenny and I were always friends. Petey went off the beaten path, but Lenny and I always confided in each other and knew we could trust the other. I’m thankful he’s the one here right now.
“You wanna head out?”
“No.” I shake my head and stand. “I’m good. Just wasn’t prepared. Let’s get you touched up.” Without giving him a chance to reply, I walk away and start prepping my station. I need this distraction. I need to escape to a different place. It takes less time than I would have liked, but I close shop after I finish up with Lenny.
Unfortunately, reality has to come back sometimes, and as I stand on the sidewalk in front of the house I grew up in, that’s when it hits me. But I don’t feel remorse or sadness. I actually smile. When Rayne said she felt relief after Bryan’s funeral, I told her it was okay. I’m taking my own advice right now.
The last thing I need to say to my mom is a note in my wallet. I wrote it the day I decided she was dead to me and held on to it because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it. I knew if I sent it to her, she wouldn’t read it, so I carried it around, and every time I pulled out my wallet, I saw it as a reminder. I pull out the piece of paper and read the words out loud.
Rot in hell, bitch.
Love,
Me.