Page 3 of Beautiful Lies
“Tell me about our mom,” I said a little while later. I’d been thinking about her a lot lately, wondering if she was okay and where she was. If she had enough food and money. “When do you think she’ll come back to get us?”
“Never. She’s not coming back.”
“But you said…” I let my words drift off. “Those were just stories then? Like fairy tales? Did you make it all up?”
Killian didn’t answer.
“Was she really beautiful?” I asked, clenching my fists. “Was she really nice? Did she love us? Did she tuck us in at night?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“Just tell me the truth. Did she read us bedtime stories? Did she really do all those things, or did you make it all up?” I asked, my voice rising.
“Keep your voice down.”
“Answer my questions,” I said, through gritted teeth. I dug the heels of my hands into my eye sockets to stop the tears. Seamus’ voice played on a loop in my head.
Boys don’t cry. Stop being a fucking pussy.
“I don’t know…that’s how I remember it,” Killian said so quietly I had to strain to hear him.
“Someday I’m gonna find her and we’ll live with her.”
“Yeah, okay, you do that.”
I will, I thought. I’ll do that for you. Forus. “You keep this room, Kill. I want you to have the stars.”
He grunted, but he didn’t fight me on it. That was how I knew he wanted the stars but would never admit it.
1
Connor
Iam peaceful. I am strong. My past does not define me.
I repeated my mantra as the needles pierced my skin, digging into scar tissue, and hitting every nerve ending.
A soft knock came on the door and it opened to reveal Eden, her green eyes shining with tears her smile couldn’t hide.
Shit. I put those tears in her eyes. “Hey, Connor… Jared.”
Jared lifted the tattoo needle from my chest and leaned back on his stool, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. He’d been working on me since ten this morning before the shop even opened. Hours to go yet but it was taking its toll on both of us.
“Hey gorgeous,” Jared said, giving her a big smile.
“You guys mind if I hang out?” She’d already dragged a stool inside the private room in the back of the shop, so she wasn’t waiting for an answer, but we told her it was cool. She perched on her seat, her tiny shorts showing off her long, tanned legs, an iced coffee clutched in her left hand. The rock on her finger, an emerald surrounded by diamonds that Killian gave her three months ago, sparkled in the light coming through the back window.
Eden took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “I thought we should be together today. At least for a little while.” Her gaze dipped to my chest. It was the first time she’d seen me bare-chested in a year. A visual reminder of the night four men came seeking retribution.
“Connor,” she whispered. “Does it hurt?”
Like a motherfucker. “No more than usual.” It was a lie, and she probably knew it. So did Jared. Tattooing over scars was one of his specialties. He’d wanted me to wait eighteen months to two years, ideally, but I couldn’t wait any longer than I have. I wanted the scars covered. Today.
“You good?” Jared asked me.
“Yeah.”
Jared studied my face for a few seconds before he got back to work.
