No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (30 page)

“And?”

“Just and, okay? There’s more to this than just not being able to quit. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do here, and I’m pissed at you for doing this to me.”

“I love you, Kenna. Whatever you want to do, I’ll help you, okay?”

“I don’t even know what it is I
want
to do, Phil. I…I’m starting to feel as though I wasted six years of my life, and the
money
…”

“Don’t worry about it, Kenna Baby. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’ until you figure it out, okay? I’ll be home soon, and I’ll kiss you and make you feel better.”

“If only it were that easy.”

“It can be if you let it.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Gavin and I grabbed a quick bite from a sub shop down the street and ended up eating our sandwiches at the picnic bench outside of the clinic.

“Do you see yourself doing this indefinitely?” I asked him.

“What? Therapy?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged. “It’s good for me right now. Haven’t given it much thought. Why?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve put myself through a lot to get to this point, and I’m not even sure if it’s what I want to do anymore. How fucked up is that?”

“Is it because of Phil?”

“No. Well, I think he’s made me realize it just a little sooner than not, you know? I’m just questioning everything, I guess.”

“You have worked really hard, Kenna. You earned this practice, and you are brilliant at what you do. Just…keep that in mind. Maybe once things even out for you and Phil—you know, getting into a relationship routine of sorts—you’ll feel differently.”

“Yeah, probably,” I said, my eyes drifting across the street to the residential area. “What made you decide to do therapy?”

“I needed a quick career. I just ended up being decent at it, which I guess is a good thing.”

“What did you want to do before that?”

He smiled. “Frank and I wanted to run an exclusive night club, but we couldn’t pool enough money between the two of us. He went on to building up his painting business, and that held zero fucking interest for me, so I opted for this. What about you?”

“Music journalism.”

“Yeah, I can totally see you doing that with all the concerts and shows you go to all the time. It would’ve been a hell of a lot cheaper than med tech. Why’d you do this instead?”

Feeling my heart sink, I just let it out. “I honestly don’t know anymore. I thought…my mom, that maybe I owed it to her somehow. I couldn’t help her, so I thought I’d try to help as many people as I could.”

“What did she want you to do?”

She wanted me to wait for Phil to come and claim me.
And then it hit me hard
. She had wanted me to
wait for Phil
. Because he could’ve handed me everything my heart yearned for—not just
him
, but what I wanted for myself!

“I’m not sure,” I said softly, picking at my roast beef and provolone. “I mean, she knew I was going to be a therapist at the very least, and she seemed to support me. But she always supported me. Now that I look back, I’m thinking I’ve done all of this for the wrong reasons.”

“Such as?”

I gave him a forced smile. “What does it matter? Done is done, and there’s no going back.”

He nodded.

“Promise me you won’t tell Rita?” I begged.

“I’d never do that, Kenna.”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure.”

“She has you under contract, too?”

I looked at him in surprise. “You signed a contract?”

“Yeah. If I quit, I’m not allowed to open another practice or work with this kind of therapy within New Orleans. She offered such an awesome salary that I couldn’t say no. What about you?”

“If I quit, I have to pay back the tuition she paid for in addition to finding my replacement.”

Gavin let loose a low whistle. “Fuck. She paid your tuition?”

“Yeah. It took a huge load off my family. I was so determined back then to do this that I never stopped to consider something like this would happen.”

“Well, sister, you and I are in this together. She might have screwed us in some ways, but she handed us something awesome, too.”

“I know. I feel as though thinking like this is a betrayal of some kind. She’s taken a chance with us, and I don’t want to let her down.”

“Don’t worry, Kenna. Everything will play out as it’s meant to. Even this will end one day.”

“I know.”

“Don’t stress it. Just do what you gotta do until you know what it is you’re supposed to.”

I gave him a genuine smile, hearing Gavin echo almost word for word what Phil had told me. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Getting it off my chest helped. With both Phil and Gavin making me feel understood, I moved through the rest of the day lighter within my soul. Plus, there was an excitement building up at the prospect of seeing Phil when I got home.

After the clinic closed, I went home to shower before walking my tired ass to the Plantation House. Before heading over there, I called him.

“Hey, you up for company?” I asked after his usual greeting.

“You’re home?” He sounded so happy.

Laughing, I replied, “Yeah. I just showered and changed. You want me to come over?”

“Get your ass over here, woman!” he barked. Then, he spoiled it by laughing.

Making my way through the backyard, I saw him coming out from the patio door on his side. His face broke out into the Lady Killer, and my world exploded into Technicolor. A few steps, and I busted out into a run. He held his arms open, so I could launch myself into his embrace. As we collided, he gave off a hissing grunt, and I heard the crinkle of plastic wrap beneath his shirt.

“You got a chest piece?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah.” He swooped down to kidnap my lips with his. “That was pure torture,” he murmured.

“Well, I didn’t know you had your chest tattooed!”

“I meant, not bein’ with you last night. It sucked.”

“Oh. Yeah, it did. Now, let me see this mystery tattoo before I rip your shirt off!”

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and leading me inside. “It could use a cleaning already.”

Heading up to the bedroom, he made me sit on the bed, so he could remove the plastic wrap and clean up the oozing in the bathroom before showing the tattoo to me.

“Ready?” His voice floated out from the bathroom.

“Yes!”

He stepped into the doorway, and I jumped to my feet.

All of Phil’s tattoos, his full sleeves and the ones on his calves, were black and gray. But this new tattoo blazed with reds, violets, blues, and oranges. An anatomical heart, correctly placed in the center of his chest, in a halo of bright flames. It was nearly identical to the one on the
Adopted Son
cover. However, on
this
heart, appearing as though it had been branded on the inked organ, I read the bold clear script.

KENNA

I gasped and demanded, “What have you done?”

Phil’s smile was blinding. “Yeah, I thought you might be a little touchy about the name—”

“You are a madman! You have lost your damn mind!”

He nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it. I lost it over six years ago, and this is to commemorate me findin’ peace in my insanity. With
you
.”

My jaw dropped as I stared at the shiny wet skin. It was fucking stunning—a true masterpiece, a testament to the craft of tattooing. Darren had created the most amazing work of art on Phil’s skin—in the history of ever! And it
had my name
on it!

“I love this tattoo,” he told me. “It’s by far my most cherished ink. And just so you know…
this
was the original design. Darren drew it for me all those years ago. But the guys loved it for the album cover.”

Giving him a shaky laugh, I asked, “What will you do if we break up?”

“That ain’t ever gonna happen. Whatever’s thrown at us, we’ll work through it. It’s you and me, Kenna. Always will be.”

Closing my eyes in irritation, I said, “You got
my name
tattooed on your chest, Phil. You should’ve asked how I’d feel about that sort of shit before you up and did it.”

“I knew you’d bitch about it, so I didn’t tell you.”

“You
knew
…”

“Of course I did.” He laughed. “And rather than havin’ a fight about it, I just went ahead and did it ’cause I would’ve anyway. So, you’re welcome.”

There was no help for it. I started laughing.

“But seriously…what do you think?” he asked.

I opened my eyes, staring at the tattoo hard. “I think…that you are the proud bearer of the most amazing tattoo that has ever graced anyone’s body.”

His smile lit up my whole world. “Too fuckin’ right.”

“I’m still mad at you for it.”

“No doubt. But you’ll get over it, especially when we go on tour, and all the groupies get to see that your name is emblazoned on my chest like a massive billboard. But this is the best,” he says, grinning and undoing his belt.

“Oh
God
!” I shrieked. “Please don’t tell me—”

On the very top of his pubic bone, the hair shaved away, I read the small but bold black letters.

PROPERTY OF

Z.K.M

“You know, just in case some of those bitches get handsy or somethin’, I can point out that all of this”—he ran his hands up and down his body—“belongs to my Baby Girl.”

I lost it, laughing until tears poured down my cheeks.
He’s nuts!
He had
BABY GIRL
on his knuckles,
Kenna
on his chest, and my initials on his groin.

“I love you,” he said sweetly.

“No shit!” I snorted.

It was Thursday the twenty-eighth of October at nine fifteen in the morning, and I was in the First-class lounge in the airport.

I am so fucking psyched!

We were finally headed for Los Angeles, and still, I found it hard to believe that I was seated next to Phil on a comfy love seat while
he
looked bored, thumbing his way through a guitar magazine. He looked smoking hot, too, with his faded Army-green cargoes and short-sleeved black button-down shirt with a black tank top beneath it. I could just see a bit of the well-healed tattoo peeking over the top. Over the last two weeks, he had grown an obscene amount of beard, which I
absolutely loved
—especially when it tickled the inside of my thighs.

Really, Kenna? You seriously can’t go a few minutes without thinking of banging your man’s brains out? For shame.

Then, my brain jumped thought trains.
I can’t believe I’m about to board a plane and fly to LA with Phil fucking Deveraux and my best friends and all of NOLA’s Junk. And Lewis Lee, too! Two months ago, I would’ve never thought that this would be my reality.

Holy shit.
We were part of a metal band’s
entourage.

It was weird, considering yesterday I was in a normal relationship with a regular guy. But not today. Today, I was dating the front man of one of the greatest heavy metal bands of our generation.

My earlier onset of irritation with having to work had dissipated somewhat, and I’d found a comfortable frame of mind to simply continue as I had before I’d had a boyfriend. It also helped that Phil and the guys were working hard to get their studio up and running in the Warehouse District, so they had to go to work themselves on a daily basis.

Phil had taken it upon himself to drive me to and pick me up from work every day, which maximized our time together. He had also insisted on being able to have lunch with me at least three days a week. He had gotten to know my coworkers a little better, too—Gavin, in particular, and Rita.
That
meeting had been…interesting.

Phil had just walked into the clinic to take me out for lunch last Wednesday. Lucy had let him know I was back in my office. The door partially cracked, he had rapped his knuckles on it, pushing it open.

“Hey, Baby,” he said as he ducked his head in. “Oh, Lucy said it was cool to come back and get you.”

“Come on in,” I told him, smiling, my world lighting up like the Fourth of July with Technicolor fireworks.

Rita, adventurer of all things carnal, was practically drooling at the drop-dead gorgeous sight of him. Her eyes grew wide behind her fashionable horn-rimmed glasses, and her dark red lips parted.