Page 68 of Reckless Rebel

“Nobody hates surprises, Red, why are you being so pissy today, is this about last night?” I start to panic, I hope she doesn’t think I took advantage of the situation, but she seemed as into it as I was.

“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she snaps, plastering herself even further away from me on the back seat, ignoring me completely.

I stare at her but she doesn’t even breathe in my direction and when we pull up in front of the row of shops that has our destination, I toss some bills to the driver and get out, moving around the cab to open her door. She ignores my outstretched hand and clambers out herself with another huff, looking up and down the street trying to work out what we are doing here.

I wait for the cab to drive away before I say, “You’re mad at me, but I don’t know why.”

Her gaze finally connects with mine. “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself, I thought things were different, that I was different, it’s not your fault, it’s mine.” My confusion is clear because before I can say anything she adds, “This thing between us, I thought,” she pauses, thinking over her words, “I thought you liked me, that this was something.” She gestures between the two of us with her hands, “But I get it now, I heard you on the phone this morning to whatever girl is on the roster this week.” I cut her off before she can go any further.

“I was on the phone to Elle this morning.” I step towards her, “I needed to confirm with her over your gift, she helped me sort it out.”

Her brow tightens in her own confusion, “But you called her beautiful and were talking about her body, I heard you flirting with her.” She shakes her head like she is trying to make sense of what she heard in her head and I want to laugh.

I take a step towards her and cup her face, “Riles,” I sigh. “Elle King is beautiful, she’s smart, strong, funny, an amazing mother, and one of my best friends, my family, we’ve been to hell and back together, literally, but not once have I ever thought about her as more than a friend from the second I discovered who she was. What you heard this morning is just how we are, me making jokes at her expense and her being over my bullshit. It’s what we do, I’ve never thought about the possibility of more with anyone.”

She softens at my words until I say the last bit and before I can add that’s now changed since her, we are interrupted.

“You, Jace?” I turn towards the sound of the voice as Riley pulls back from my embrace.

“Yeah man, that’s me.” I take Riley’s hand and lead us over to the guy standing in the doorway of the tattoo studio and it’s only then her eyes take in the store in front of us.

Her stare widens as she snaps her head my way, “What are we doing here?” She asks, rocking back and forth on her feet like she can’t contain her excitement.

“We are getting tattoos of course.” We follow the guy inside and he locks the door behind us, leading us straight over to two already sanitized stations.

Riley’s eyes track everything in the store, from the designs on the walls, to the guys gathering their guns and making sure they are ready for us. I direct her into one of the chairs and I take a seat in the other.

“Well, Red, let’s tick this off the bucket list.” I wink and unbutton the top couple of buttons on my shirt before I pull it off from behind my neck. Her eyes trail across my bare chest and that blush appears once again.

The guy rolls his chair towards mine and I show him where I want the design I asked for. He already has the transfer ready so instructs me to lay on my side so he can put it on. Riley peers over his shoulder to see what he is doing and then I see her eyes gloss over when she sees what I am getting.

“You’re getting Sofia’s name?” She asks, emotion clogging her throat.

I nod, “Got a space for her right underneath Rachel’s.” I respond and she smiles knowingly. “What about you, where are you getting yours?”

Her eyes move to the other artist who rolls his chair to her side with another transfer in his hand, she looks back at me. “You already picked it out?”

I nod slowly, “You trust me?” I ask with a smirk, but really hope that she does and when she nods in response I feel warmth spread across my chest and cover it with a joke, “Horrible decision, Red.”

She laughs, shaking her head, before she shows the artist the back of her shoulder blade, lowering one strap of her dress and pointing there. He moves round the back of her and she looks back to me without asking to see what I chose for her. She takes a deep breath as he presses the transfer onto her skin and I watch as her chest begins to rise and fall rapidly.

“Are you scared?” I ask, fascinated at the notion she might be.

“Should I be?” She whispers, and I smile.

“No, Red, you shouldn’t be scared.” I reach out my hand for her to hold and slowly she reaches out to grab it. “We’re in this together, right?”

“Together,” she confirms, just as the needles press into both our skins.

I’ve had so many tattoos that I’ve lost count of them, but at this moment I don’t remember any of them, I won’t even remember this one, but I know I will remember her. The feel of her hand in mine, the look in her eyes, the flush on her skin. I might be tattooing my sister's name against my skin, but Riley is tattooing hers against my heart, and she doesn’t even realize it. I am falling in quick and deep and I don’t see any way out. I really am fucked, but when her breath hitches in pain and she squeezes my hand in response, I realize how okay I am with that.

Maybe it’s okay to go to hell because when you come back you might just find heaven on earth, and I might just be looking at mine. But how do I take something so good and pure and not taint it, ruin it? Just keep it perfectly whole in my hands when they are covered in so much blood. Can I even love when all I have ever known is hate?

34

Riley

Jace Conrad is dangerous. Dangerous, yet utterly thrilling. Never in my life did I think I would permanently mark my skin without seeing it first, but here we are. Mine is done before Jace’s and I let the artist make sure it’s clean before he covers it with some clear, protective film. Jace didn’t drop my hand from his for even a second, just kept it enclosed in his like he could keep it there forever, and when I’m done he uses his grip to pull me closer. His other arm circles round my waist and flexes around my hip possessively the same way it did when I woke up this morning in his arms.

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