Escaped Artist (Untamed #3) (4 page)

Dare still had it.

I couldn’t breathe. If I didn’t have my bird and I didn’t have my pills…how was I going to survive this moment? What about the next? And all those dark nights that were undoubtedly coming? Hot tears began to roll down my face as I fought hard to keep from breaking down and sobbing.

“Hey,” someone said as he knelt down next to me, “you need some help with that?”

As he reached for my lip gloss, I noticed his entire forearm was covered in colorful tattoos that wound around him like a sleeve of art. The letters P L A Y were inked onto the fingers of his right hand, and H A R D on his left. He dropped the pink vial into my bag and then did the same with my wallet and the rest of my stuff as I continued to stare at him in awe.

Intense green eyes gazed into mine questioningly and a cigarette hung off his thin lips. Then he pulled it out of his mouth, aiming a dazzling smile at me.

For some stupid reason, I started to cry again.

“Aw, it can’t be that bad, can it, love?” he said in a deep voice warmed by a British accent. “Not for a beautiful girl like you.”

He had no idea.

The guy stood up and I followed, feeling so lost. I didn’t want to go home because I knew I’d never be able to resist the pills, and with the way I was feeling right now that whole bottle was going to look much too inviting. But I had nowhere else to go. I wasn’t welcome at Vogel Tattoos—Dare probably wouldn’t even talk to me now. I’d have to return and try again when I was sober. Maybe tomorrow. If I was going to have any chance with him at all, my apology couldn’t be laced with chemical courage.

“Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?” the Brit said, pushing his dirty blond hair out of his eyes. He smiled and reached out a hand to me. “I’m Synner, by the way.”

I studied his face—he wasn’t giving off any creepy vibes, thank god. He just seemed genuinely friendly and obviously interested. And right now, at this very moment, what I needed more than anything else in the world was a friend.

So I shook his outstretched hand and forced a smile. “Reagan.”

The first three shots felt like firewater. But the following three, I didn’t feel at all. Synner was remarkably entertaining as he spoke about his many tattoos. I pointed to a blue feather that was hidden in the intricate design on his arm.

“What about this one?” I said.

His jaw tightened and he shook his head. “Sorry, love. That one I don’t talk about.”

I could understand that. Everyone had their secrets. Some more than others. And I certainly wasn’t spilling any of mine tonight. Or any other night for that matter.

“I went to get a tattoo earlier,” I told him, my words coming out slightly slurred. “But he wouldn’t do it. He hates me.”

Synner arched a pierced eyebrow. “Who hates you?”

I stared into my empty shot glass, wondering why it wasn’t magically filling back up anymore. The room swayed when I turned my head to look at my new friend.

“The only man I’ve ever loved my whole fucking life.”

“Then he’s clearly daft. Who could hate a creature as sweet as you?” He wound my hair around his finger and gently tugged it toward him.

I shook my head, pulling the lock free from his grasp. “
He
does,” I said with a groan. “And he should. He has every reason to.”

“Why don’t you,” Synner said, leaning forward so our lips were nearly touching, “let
me
love you tonight? One night with me and you won’t be thinking about this guy anymore. I can promise you that.”

I smiled at him, then placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away.

“But I don’t want you.” I sighed. “I only want him.”

“Haven’t you ever heard that you’re supposed to love the one you’re with?” He winked. “Or at least let him love you. I’ll make your head spin, I promise. In many sinful ways and even more sinful positions.”

I laughed then, because COME ON. “Does that line EVER work for you?” I said.

A deep, hearty laugh rose from his chest as he grinned at me. “Bloody hell. I’ve never had to work this hard to get some looker into my bed,” he said. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on. They don’t call me Syn JUST because I’m hot as hell.”

Synner was hot, all right. Smokin’ hot. Tattoos covering his body, not an ounce of body fat, muscles giving his arms contours, but not filling him out. His dirty blond hair was tucked behind his ears, stray strands falling across his eyes. Once upon a time, I would have jumped into his bed without thinking twice.

But he wasn’t my Dare.

“Sorry,” I said, the laugh dying in my throat as my thoughts returned to Dare. Everything was so screwed up. I had no idea whether I’d be able to fix it. “I don’t mean to mess with your flawless
shag
record.”

He lifted his beer, took a swig, and tilted the bottle at me. “S’okay. A little humility never hurt anyone.” He nodded at my shot glass. “Why don’t you let me help you home? You’ve had a lot of those.”

I shook my head, the room tilting precariously as I tried to get up. But I immediately lost my balance and slid off the barstool. Synner caught me, setting me back upright.

“Nah.” I waved him off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re anything but fine, love.” He smiled at me again, his teeth straight and white.

And he was right. I was nowhere near fine. I wasn’t even on the same continent as fine.

“Where are you staying?” His words floated over to me as if coming from afar.

My mind churned at an annoyingly slow pace as I tried to remember the name of my hostel. The Riding Donkey? The Laughing Cow? If I’d known this city better, I probably would have been able to find my way back, but at the moment I couldn’t even remember the name of the street I was staying on.

Shit. Could this night get any worse?

“I have no idea.” I mumbled the words, not even sure if I was coherent anymore. The whole bar swirled around me, and I had the vague notion that perhaps if I hadn’t been too nervous to eat all day the alcohol wouldn’t be hitting me quite this hard.

“Alright,” Synner said as he stood up. “You can come crash at my flat. I can’t, in good conscience, leave you here to fend for yourself.” He leaned down, pulled one of my arms up around his neck, and wrapped his arm around my waist. Then he lifted me up so I was standing in front of him.

I started to pull away. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I know that, love.”

My brow furrowed, my thoughts colliding into one another.

“Synner?” I said. “Why are you being nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

He just shrugged. “I have younger sisters. And somewhere, in the center of this irresistibly hot, sex-god before you, there is an honest-to-goodness beating heart. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

My throat tightened, and I nodded, then walked with him toward the door. The room pitched and my stomach lurched. We’d just barely made it outside when I felt everything I’d drunk coming back up.

I ripped myself away from him and grabbed for the side of a building. Then I heaved onto the street, over and over again until I felt the world spinning and everything going black.

five

I
came to in a dark room, and if it hadn’t been for the streetlight spilling in through the windows, I would have freaked the fuck out. But I wasn’t in a cellar. I was above ground.

And I was okay. Well, for now.

Oh, god
…where the hell was I?

“No fucking way, Synner.” A deep voice rang out, and I lifted my pounding head to see two men silhouetted in the doorway. “Not cool at all, man. She’s completely wasted. You’re sleeping on the couch tonight. You step one foot in this bedroom and I’ll cut your dick off.”

“Bloody hell,” Synner said. “Give me some fucking credit. I’m not that guy. I don’t need to be.”

I squinted into the darkness, trying to make out the other guy’s features, which was almost impossible since he was backlit. He was taller than Synner, had longer hair, and something about his face seemed familiar.

“It’s NOT okay, Syn.”

“Agreed. That’s why I’m standing here talking to you and not balls deep like some degenerate git. I only do the ready and very willing.” Synner crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against the doorjamb. “What are you still doing up, anyway?”

The other man shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing.”

“The girl?” Synner said.

“The girl.” A deep sigh floated through the open door. “Always the girl.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” As I watched Synner shake his head, my own started to spin again. “You’ve gotta let it go. Losing your mind over someone you can’t have will fuck you up. That’s why I don’t bother anymore.” He clapped the other guy on the back. “Alright, that’s enough chick chat for the month. You better catch some sleep while you still can. Indie’s going to be screeching at us before dawn.”

Their words started to fade away as exhaustion, alcohol, and drugs weighed down my body and my eyelids. The blessed oblivion of sleep swept over me, pulling me under, erasing my every thought.

A loud bang on the door jolted me awake. Someone yelled. Sweet baby Jesus, her voice was so damn shrill. The sound was like an ice pick being pounded into my brain. Over and over and over again. I pulled the pillow over my head and crushed it to my ears.

Fucking hell, who was making all that noise?

“GET UP! NOW!” she yelled. “We’re going to be late again!”

Shit. If she didn’t stop shrieking like a freaking banshee, my head was going to explode. Daylight streaming in from the window had been bad enough when I’d opened my eyes, but the sheer volume of her voice was splitting my head in two.

I gripped the pillow tighter, bracing for her next call.

But all that followed was silence.

Thank god.

I dragged the pillow off my head, slowly lifted it, and looked around. Christ, just moving my eyes hurt.

Where the hell was I?

The room was large and painted a deep red, clothes were strewn all over, and there were a bunch of drumsticks sticking out of a vase on the dresser. I had no clue where I was or how I’d gotten here.

Or what I’d done in this bed.

Crap. My hands shot down to my chest to check for clothes. I almost cried in relief when I realized that everything was intact.

I gingerly lay my head back down, letting it sink into the pillow that felt more like a brick, and willed my brain to backtrack.
Yesterday
. What happened yesterday?

As my memory returned, I shook my head, the thoughts rattling around in my skull.

Dare. The tattoo parlor. Losing my phoenix.

Probably losing my chance with Dare.

Then I’d left and gone to a bar with some guy. Skimmer? Skipper? Something weird like that. God, I couldn’t even remember his name.

And I couldn’t remember anything that happened.

Oh, god…oh god, oh god...

I started shaking as the immensity of what I had done settled over me. How fucking stupid could one person really be? How could I have put myself in that position?

Jesus.

I slowly sat up, then put my throbbing head in my hands as I waited for the room to stop spinning. My stomach lurched, and I felt like I was going to be sick. From the disgusting taste in my mouth, I was pretty sure I’d already done that at least once last night.