black shades pulled closed. I’ve become my brother. Is this why he’s always such a dick? Because he loved someone and lost them?
“Numb” by 8 Graves blares through the speakers on my phone.
Cross stands next to the couch, getting his shit ready. He’s the only one I’m talking to at the moment. I threatened him with his life not to tell the others where I’m at. I’ve had my cell off for a few days and cut all outside communication off until today when I messaged him to come see me.
He removes his gloves from his bag and pauses, looking down at me. “Sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” I’ve always been impulsive. April makes me think, and I fucking hate it. I was fucking drowning, and she was my last attempt at living. She saw my struggle and pulled me out of the water. She gave me life, and I gave her nothing. “Do it.”
“I can’t work in the dark …” He trails off, walking over to the wall and turning on the bright lights.
I lie down on the couch with a growl and rip the blanket off the back, throwing it over my face. Maybe I’ll get lucky and suffocate.
_______________
April straddles my hips, her purple hair falling over her shoulders. She reaches up, running her hands through it and pushing it off her face, flipping it to the side.
We’ve been in her bed all weekend. I’ve ignored every call and text from my brother and the other Kings. I want to spend every second I have with this woman. I haven’t even thought about a hit or a drink.
I run my palm down her chest bone still feeling her heart pound, her skin slick with sweat. It travels lower until gripping her hip bone. She bites her bottom lip while her eyes run over the ink on my chest. They follow the lines of my skull with the tilted crown on my left pec. Then the crossbones underneath. All the Kings have them. “How old were you when you got your first tattoo?”
“Eighteen.”
“I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo.”
“Really? What do you want?” My eyes run over her perfect tits and the curves of her hips, imagining them covered in ink.
“I almost went through with it once.” She laughs. “My best friend, Alexa, and I went out and got drunk. She was dating this musician at the time, and we had gone to their show. Anyway, afterward all the members of his band got matching tattoos. I wanted to get a petal on my arm.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I know I wouldn’t stop.”
I reach up and run my hands through her tangled hair. “And why is that?”
“Because they’re addicting.”
“They are,” I agree.
She runs her hand up my right arm, her fingers following the ink. “I’ve always wanted a sleeve. I love art. I just …”
“Go on,” I urge her.
“I don’t trust anyone to draw on me. I’d want to do it, and well, I’m not a tattoo artist.”
“You could be.”
She laughs.
“Cross is a tattoo artist.”
“He is?” Her ice blue eyes widen.
I nod. “Yep. He has a shop inside of Kingdom. If you were to draw him what you want, he’ll do it for you.”
“Grave?” I feel a hand on my chest.
“Hmm?” I sit up and look at Cross standing next to me.
The glass coffee table is littered with Red Bull cans and room service that we haven’t finished. “We’re done,” he tells me.
“How long was I asleep?” I ask, feeling my arm tingle. He’s been drinking sugar and I’ve had a few Lortabs to help with the pain and to get some rest.
“A little over two hours this time.”
I place my face in my hands. Every time I sleep, I see her. She’s like a recurring nightmare that I can’t escape no matter how hard I try.
“I’m finished,” he states.
“Completely?” I ask, looking up at him.
He takes the Zippo from his pocket and lights up a cigarette. “Yep. Take a look.” He reaches out his hand to help me up off the couch in my hotel suite. He picks up the piece of paper on the floor and places it on the coffee table, so I don’t step on it.
A total of a week, thirty-five hours and my other sleeve is complete.
APRIL
I stand in the middle of Roses with Alexa, Haven, and Emilee. Jasmine is over in the cooler on her phone. I went back in there a minute ago and she was cussing someone out about payment