Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Wow, straight in with the knife. She doesn’t hold back.
“I am here to help Magnolia.”
“Magnolia is fine, she doesn’t need you putting your nose in her business all the time.”
God. She really hasn’t changed.
“Thank you, really, for the incredible welcome home, but I have things to do. If you’ll excuse me ...”
I turn toward the shop and start walking.
“Alarick isn’t going to want to see you,” she calls out behind me.
Oh.
I have no doubt.
But I have to see him.
Because I need his help.
As much as it pains me to admit.
This isn’t going to go well.
Here goes nothing.
THE BELL ABOVE THE door rings when I push the heavy glass door open. I step inside and, for a moment, I just stop and take in the shop. It’s exactly the same as I remember it, only they’ve touched everything up so it’s like new. The same pictures still line the walls, the chairs are in the same spot, and mostly, it still smells exactly as I remember it. I want to smile, I want to remember the times I’d race through here, laughing, driving Alarick mad as he was learning to tattoo.
I want to smile.
I don’t.
A woman, who is currently tattooing a young male, looks up when I walk in. She’s beautiful, the kind of beauty that takes your breath away. With her honey brown hair and emerald green eyes, she’s utterly breathtaking. Is she Alarick’s girlfriend? I wouldn’t know. I don’t know a damn thing.
“Hi.” She smiles when I walk in. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, sorry to bother you, I’m looking for Alarick. Is he here?”
She nods. “He’s out back, just doing a piercing. He’ll be out soon. Are you looking at getting some work done?”
“Work?” I ask, confused.
She laughs, the sound soft, and kind. “A tattoo?”
“Oh,” I laugh nervously. “Oh no, I don’t ... I don’t do tattoos. I’m his ... step-sister.”
Her brows shoot up. “Step-sister? I didn’t know he had other family outside of Sissy.”
“I’m the nice one,” I say, shrugging.
She chuckles. “I sure hope so. Sissy is a handful.”
I laugh. “Indeed. I’m Briella, by the way.”
She keeps her bold and radiant smile. “I’m Joanne.”
I sit down on the short black stools by the door and pick up a tattoo magazine and start flicking through it. I wonder how Alarick is going to take me being here. I mean, I did disappear without even a goodbye, but he didn’t ... he didn’t have my back. He and I were always close, and he didn’t have my back when I needed him to have it the most. I couldn’t deal with any more pain, so I ran. I just left this life behind.
He never came after me.
He clearly wasn’t too concerned.
I’ll never tell him how much that hurt.
Never.
“Thanks so much.”
I hear a female voice a look up to see Alarick walking out behind a gorgeous young woman. Obviously the one he was just driving a needle into. I shudder. Piercings. Yuck. I do them even less than I do tattoos. I don’t even have my ears pierced. I’m a chicken. The idea of a needle going into my skin by choice just seems ... insane.
Alarick looks up and over at me and, for a moment, I’m completely stunned.
I left when Alarick was only twenty-five years old. Just a maturing young man.
Today I walk back in to a man.
A rough, incredibly gorgeous, man.
Alarick always had the looks, but now those looks have deepened. His short dark hair has been replaced with long, thick locks that sit down around his shoulders. His once bright green eyes have paled into a gorgeous color that suits him even more. His thin but muscled body has been replaced with broad shoulders, thick arms, a lean torso and a whole lot of muscle. His once flawless face is now marred by a scar that runs down his left cheek.
He’s also covered, and I mean covered, in tattoos.
The boy is gone.
In his place a man, a dangerous, deadly, beautiful man.
He tips his head to the side when he notices me. I actually think he might not recognize me. I mean, I’ve grown up a lot too. I was nearly nineteen when I left this place, now I’m nearly twenty-five and things are a little different. My hair, for a start. It’s no longer blonde, but instead a soft brown with highlights. My eyes have changed from soft blue to almost a denim grey. My body has gotten curvier, and I’m going to blame pizza for that.
Damn you, pizza.
I mean, I guess I could look as different as he looks.
But still, I’d never forget those eyes.
Has he forgotten mine?
I raise a hand in some pathetic attempt at saying hello. He stares at me for a moment longer, then turns back to the lady he was with, murmurs something to her, and she gives him some cash before disappearing out the front door.