Jolted (Conflicted Encounters #1) (24 page)

"This is my home away from home," Scarlett sang, spinning around with her arms wide open.
 

"It's great," I said as I looked at photos of her work and drawings on her wall.

"So, what are you doing here on your day off?" Brent asked.

"This," Scarlett said. I could see her excitement as she pulled out a folder and unfolded her masterpiece.

Brent stared down at the thin paper and scratched his beard. "Wow," he said quietly, nodding.

I came over to the bench that she had just laid out her drawing on. My eyes teared up as I looked down at what she had created for me. A single fallen feather, with such detail you could see the individual barbs. The feather curved slightly, the top breaking off into little tiny birds, breaking away and flying off.
 

Scarlett busied herself with gathering her tools and cleaning solution. She laid out a tray with about a dozen tiny cups of dye. There were multiple colors, from black and white to reds and blues. She put on a pair of latex gloves and motioned for me to lay back on the bench.
 

My hands shook as I pulled up my shirt to give her full access to my rib cage. I laid back on the bench and she helped me move to my side. She sprayed a strong-smelling solution on my skin and wiped it clean.
 

"You sure you're ready?" she asked me one last time.

I just nodded. Brent took a seat by the doorway and she laid the stencil out on my skin. After spraying the thin tissue paper, she lifted it off, leaving the outline, and I heard her getting her tattoo gun ready.
 

"This your first?" Brent asked, probably hearing my rapid breathing.

"Yes." I squeezed my eyes shut tightly in anticipation.
 

"Okay, babe. I'm gonna start. If you need me to stop, raise your hand," Scarlett told me from behind.
 

I nodded and I heard the buzzing the start. Pricking and burning touched my skin, and my breath caught. It felt like I was being sliced up with a hot blade. My body went stiff and I gripped the edge of the bench. Scarlett stopped and I let my body relax.
 

When she began again, I was ready for the pain. She had warned me numerous times that the rib cage was one of the most painful spots to get a tattoo. With little meat on my bones, there was little to cushion the needle. I still insisted.
 

I clenched my hands and kept my eyes shut as the needle buzzed around on my skin. I concentrated on taking deep breaths and trying to be still. The skin would eventually grow numb, and then she would move onto virgin skin. The pain intensified as she reached higher onto my side, and I raised my hand for a break. Brent handed me a bottle of water and I drank from it while laying on my side.
 

"You're doing great. Doing the birds now, then adding the color," Scarlett said, running her fingers through my hair. "The outlining is usually the worst of it."

"That's comforting," I mumbled, and she laughed while she swapped out heads on the tattoo gun.

"So, what does it mean?" Brent asked when the buzzing started again.

"What?" I bit out rudely as the pain hit again. Brent's huge hand covered my clenched one.

"Well, usually people get tattoos that mean something to them," he explained in a calming voice that didn't match his image.

"I don't know," I said through gritted teeth.

"Right," he laughed.

As the needles pierced through the sensitive skin right under my bra strap, I sucked in a deep breath and my eyes teared up. "Letting go," I blurted. I swear, Scarlett was over there with a blade, just ripping off my skin.

"Good," Scarlett said, pulling away quickly. "You did good. Just adding the color now."
 

I let out a deep breath and nodded. A bell rang and Brent went to the front to help the customer. I could hear the voices over the buzzing behind me. The pain was still present, but not nearly as bad. The worst was when she would touch a spot that was already raw.
 

She worked over my skin like she was painting in her room and not inking a permanent design on my body. She stopped to add and mix colors, working quickly and as gently as possible. Brent eventually came back and watched from the doorway, telling Scarlett he closed up the shop for the night.
 

"I'm done," she finally said in a whisper. She took a cloth and gently wiped the area clean. "Don't move."
 

She jumped up, grabbed a camera from a drawer, and took a photo before letting me up. I automatically smiled back at her, because her grin was contagious. She pulled me to sit up since my entire body felt like Jell-O. I turned so I could see myself in the full-length mirror on the wall.

The feather was just as detailed as it had been on paper. Tiny birds formed from the feather and flew up my side. I could almost feel the freedom and hope just watching them fly away. My jaw dropped looking at the ink embedded deep inside me.
 

The feather was made of pinks and blues mixed together. It looked like it could have just fallen off a beautiful and exotic bird. The colors swirled, mixed and faded, giving the effect of a watercolor painting. Some color smeared and dripped near the edges, looking like she had only painted on me.
 

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I looked at Scarlett in the mirror. She too had watery eyes, so I burst into a full-blown cry. She came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me. I heard Brent mutter something and scurry from the room.
 

"Thank you," I sniffled. "I love it."

"I'm glad," she said, wiping her eyes. "I'm just so happy I could give you this."

After our girly moment, I pulled down my shirt and we came back out front. Brent stood at the front desk doing paperwork.

"How much?" I asked.
 

"Nope," Scarlett said. "It's on me. I did it on my own time, and I wanted to do this for you."

"No, I can’t accept that," I insisted.

"You can buy me a drink then," she smiled at me.

"Deal."

"See ya tomorrow, boss," Scarlett yelled back to Brent as we left the shop.

We headed next door to a small bar. By then, my nerves and brain were in need of drink. We both ordered a beer and I sipped on it.
 

"Kallie," Scarlett said cautiously.
 

"Scarlett," I said back with suspicion.
 

"Look, I know you don't want to talk about it, but I just want you know that you can talk to me," she said, putting her hand on my arm. "I won't judge, and I won't tell my brother. I know your going through something, or running from something, and I want you to know that I'm here if you need me."

I stepped back at the shock of her words and her expression. I heard and saw nothing but genuine honesty and real acceptance. That was what I wanted all along back at home. I wanted someone to understand and care.

"Thank you," I choked and pulled her in for another hug.
 

She laughed as we pulled apart. "Who would have guessed this would have been such an emotional day," she sniffed, wiping her tears as I wiped mine.
 

"I know," I sighed. After several seconds of silence, I gave in. "I just lived my live so straight to the point, planned and thought out. I thought I knew my future and everything I wanted. And then, it all was taken, changed, and now I don't know who I am or what I want anymore."

"Well, we are young," she said, taking another sip of her beer. "We're in our twenties. We are supposed to make mistakes, fall in love, break hearts, and figure all that out as we go."

"I know, but my family isn't the biggest fan of mistakes," I grumbled.
 

"Well, it's your life. You have to live it, not them."

I nodded and peeled the sticker off my bottle.
 

"Did someone break your heart?" she asked.

"Yeah." You could say that.
 

"We all go through it, babe," she said, pushing her half full bottle away. "It's part of growing up. You live and learn." Then she turned and looked at me with a serious expression. "And you learn to let go."

We paid the bartender and made the long drive back to the apartment. Once we were on the dark country roads, I started to grow nervous. I didn't know if Ryder would be home and how he would act around me. I didn't know how I should be acting around him either. I dated Carter for over a year before I gave him my virginity. I wasn't sure how a casual relationship worked or if this was even in that category.
 

We parked behind the apartment after dark and his truck was still there. The apartment was dark and quiet when we walked in. The only light came from under Ryder's closed doors.
 

"Drink?" Scarlett asked, holding up a beer from the fridge. I nodded and she passed me a can. "You should wash the area tonight,” she said, pointing to my sore rib cage. “Let it air out and try to wear some loose shirts until it feels better."
 

"It's sore," I admitted, pulling up my shirt to look at it. "But it was worth it. I love it."

"Good," she glowed.
 

We drank a few more beers and watched some old episodes of Friends. I forgot how good it felt to laugh this hard. I tried not to keep looking at the light filtering from under the doors to his room. I saw Scarlett looking a few times, too, probably waiting for him to come out and see what had us giggling like teenagers.

"He waiting for you?" she whispered to me after she saw my hundredth glance at the door.

"I have no clue," I admitted.

"You guys didn't do much talking?" she asked with a smirk, much like her twin's.

"Not much. I'm kinda new at this," I confessed quietly.

"Figured as much," she said. "Let him come you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head. "And he will."

"Is this weird?" I asked, feeling guilty for talking about her brother.

"A little. But you're my friend, and like I said, I'm here for you," she said before she pulled me into an awkward side-hug.

She gave me a kiss on the top of my head and skipped off to her bedroom. I decided to get up and take a shower to clean up my tattoo. The water stung the sensitive skin as the pressure hit it. I winced and eased myself under the spray. I washed my hair, careful not to get any of the shampoo over my raw skin.
 

The sound of the door closing made me freeze my movements. I heard shuffling around and was about to scream when the shower curtain slid open. Ryder stood in only his boxers, looking me up and down. Without speaking, he slid down his shorts and stepped in with me. His fingers grazed my skin from my shoulders and then down my chest to my hips.
 

"What's this?" he asked, touching the swollen outline of the tattoo.

"Scarlett did it for me today," I answered.
 

"Amazing," he said, lightly touching the raised skin. "Does it hurt?"

"A bit," I said.

He put some body wash on a loofa and ran it over my skin lightly. His hands moved softly over my body as I stood still, unsure how to move next. He lathered up my shoulders and worked the soap over my stomach and back, keeping my tattoo out of the suds. He knelt down and washed my legs, leaving my skin warm and tingling after his touch.
 

After he cleaned me, he leaned over me to turn off the water. When he pulled back, his eyes connected with mine. My breath caught in my throat and my head went fuzzy. I briefly wondered if I would always have such a reaction to him. His lips brushed mine and every nerve in my body sparked back to life. I forgot the stinging skin, the confusion, and the sleepiness I felt. I just felt him.
 

He stepped out and wrapped me in a towel, then himself. He nodded at me before turning and slipping out of the bathroom. I blinked a few times to clear my head before I put on the clothes I laid out for myself. I dressed and came back out to the dark living room. His doors were closed again.

I sighed and laid down on the couch. My head was swimming with want and confusion. I wasn't good at games. I was good at planning, solving, and logic. I would feel better if he left me a schedule of when he wanted me.

I was never cut out for the game of romance and flirting. I never learned enough at the age I was supposed to be learning it. I was never chased and never longed for someone else. After I was settled and tucked in under the blanket, his doors slid open. I heard his heavy footsteps on the floor coming toward me.
 

"You're not sleeping out here," he whispered, leaning close to my ear. When I just stared back at him, he added, "Unless you want to."

"No," I quickly added. I had no idea what it was that he wanted.
 

"Stay with me tonight," he said as he smiled and held his hand out for me. I put mine in his and let him pull me up and lead me to his bedroom.
 

Ryder

The annoying beeping of my cell phone woke me up from one of the best sleeps I have had in a while. I smacked the screen a few times until it went silent. I turned and looked over to the shuffling beside me. I grabbed Kallie's hand just as she tried to slip out of bed. She held the sheet tightly to her body and turned back to look at me.

"Where you going?" I asked her.

"Work," she whispered, covering herself more.
 

As quickly as I could early in the morning, I grabbed her arm and pulled it out from under her. She yelped as she fell back to the bed and I scooted closer to her. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest.
 

She rested her hands on my bare chest and I inhaled her smell. My entire room smelled like her all day yesterday. I drove myself crazy the whole day waiting for her to come home. It took every bit of my patience to wait for my sister to go to her room. The moment she did, I wasted no time taking Kallie back for myself.