Ink Me_A Short Story Read online

  Copyright

  Ink Me

  By MK Moore

  © MK Moore

  All Rights Reserved

  By the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as an advertisement. Trademark names are used editorially with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is intended for adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. The suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Erotic Adult Romance.

  ASIN:

  Cover created by Dark Water Covers

  Editor Melinda G @ MKB Edits

  Dedicated to Erin.

  My first partner-in-crime. My first friend. My sister. Also, you be covered in really nice ink, except the Homer Simpson/Rubber Ducky thing. Get that shit fixed!

  Saint. Patient. Rebel. Miles Heart took on too much too quickly. In order to keep his family together, he traded a full ride scholarship to be an apprentice in a tattoo shop in his hometown of Bleak, Minnesota. Once he was fully licensed, he started on his own shop and brought his family on. Finally, he started living for himself again.

  Can seventeen years of celibacy just be erased by the beautiful mess in his chair?

  Whore. Trailer Trash. Homewrecker. Jacquie Sherwood has been no stranger to this kind of pettiness since she was a teenager. The broken mess the death of her husband left behind ripped her suddenly charmed life right back to the trailer park in Road to Nowhere, Illinois. When her daughter suddenly heads to Moosehead, to help her grandfather, everything in her tells her to go along.

  Can two broken hearts be mended by the gentle lull of his tattoo machine?

  Ink Me is a standalone short story in the Queen of Hearts Ink Series.

  Chapter One

  Miles

  Monday, September 10th, 2001

  It took one phone call to change my life and scare the shit out of me. I was a twenty-three-year-old kid and I thought I had the world by the balls. I was pre-med, and things were going very well for me. My fraternity decided to have its annual Back to School party for the beginning of the new semester.

  It was some time into the party that I began to get annoyed because my cell phone kept ringing. The screen showed it was from an unrecognized number, but the first three numbers where the same area code as my home town of Bleak, Minnesota. After the fifth call, which was back to back, I decided to step outside and answer it. To this day I will never forget the details of the phone conversation for as long as I live.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Is this Miles Heart?” The question was being asked from a strange male voice on the opposite end.

  “Speaking?” I reply with confusion, because I still do not recognize the voice.

  “My name is Chief Gandy and I am with the Bleak Police Department. I am sorry I need to do this over the phone, but there has been an incident and I have two unaccompanied minors I need to know what to do with. Social Services has been called, but they cannot get here until morning and I need to know what to do with them tonight.” The Chief says. His voice sounds tired with a slight crackling of pain in it. When I look at my watch, I see it is already after five in the morning.

  “Excuse me? What kind of incident? And why has Social services been called?” The fact that he said incident and not accident is starting to make me panic.

  “You are going to need to come home, son. We need someone of age to identify the bodies.” He states.

  “Bodies? Are you saying both of my parents are gone?” I ask.

  “We should really discuss this more face to face, Miles.”

  “Are my brothers and sister okay?”

  “They are fine, but understandably shaken up. I just have Chip and Kitty. I am not sure where Dexter is right now.”

  “Baseball camp in Wisconsin. I can and will be there in a few hours.” I say and hang up.

  Even though it was the first party of the school year, I did less drinking and more talking to those who attended. Thankfully, I had not had anything to drink in a few hours. I left everything behind and called a cab to the airport.

  During the plane ride home, it seemed my mind was racing faster than the damn plane. I kept thinking about what could have happened to my parents and I was concerned about my siblings.

  Dexter is thirteen and prone to anger outbursts, but he is at baseball camp. He called me on Saturday to say he had three home runs in the practice game they had versus another camp. Kitty is six. Chip is a baby.

  I pulled into the sheriff's station four hours later and took a deep breath, before I could even try to get my body out of the vehicle. I realized then and there that my life would never be the same. Getting out of the car and walking in seemed to weigh me down. But, one look at my little sister with tears streaming down her face.

  She was trying to eat a bowl cereal, which means she had to be starving because she hated milk. In her opposite arm, she is holding a sleeping Chip, which broke my heart and strengthened it all at once. I took Chip from Kitty and kneeled to pull her into a hug. I promised her as soon as we were out of here, we would get McDonald’s on the way to pick Dex up from camp.

  The second hardest thing I did that evening was to identify their bodies. In speaking with the medical examiner, I learned my mother was pregnant again. It was more than likely she didn't know. I kept the information from my siblings because it wouldn't do any good to bring it up.

  The best the cops could figure out at the time is my dad killed my mom and then himself. They were having trouble with why he would do something like that, but I knew.

  The front my parents put on for the world was not how it was at home. They did love each other and provided for us. It was because they loved each other too much and they were too dependent on each other. I vowed I would never let that happen to me. The jealousy my dad always had about my mom was what she loved most about him. He let it eat him though. What the fuck was my dad thinking? I'll never understand the way he chose to end it.

  We went through social services in a day. They asked if I wanted to raise my siblings and I said of course I do. We were not going to be separated. There is the money our parents left us, divided equally with me in charge until the others are of age. Unfortunately, September 11th happened the very next day and we were forgotten about.

  Four days after my parent’s funeral, I walked into Blessed tattoos in Bleak and got my first tattoo in memory of my parents. It is a solid oak tree with branches that has their names on one of them. By the time I left, I had an apprenticing job. Mack is a good man. He taught me everything I know, and I will be forever grateful. He gave me the opportunity to work around the kids and earn my hours required to be licensed in Minnesota. When he retired, I opened Queen of Hearts Ink and never looked back.

  I took a little out of our joint money for the household expenses and invested it four ways. We made a lot of money that I deposited into each of our individual trusts quarterly. My siblings never have to worry abo
ut a thing, but I continued to raise them the way our parents did. Down to earth.

  The one thing I did splurged on for all of us, and out of my share was a couple of giant TVs and gaming systems as the years went on. Just because you have money, doesn’t mean you should waste it. There were several problems with the house thru the years, but I never sold it. My brothers and sister would always have a place to call home.

  ◆◆◆

  Fast forward eighteen years, and everyone is grown. Kitty is a fantastic tattoo artist, even though she seems lonely. Dex is hollow. I know something happened to him in New York last year, but he hasn’t said anything about it. And Chip. Well he’s alive, but with so much pent up inside of him that I don’t know how he will ever overcome it. I hope he finds an outlet to relieve some of his anger, and soon.

  Then there is me. I have always thought the crazy jealous nature of my father was hereditary. Because of that reason I have steered clear of women since that night. I have focused all my energy on the kids and then the job. Now that they are all grown, I am feeling lost.

  As I was doing a tattoo for women, who was getting her husband’s name inked on her body, the woman with her caught my eye. She introduces herself as Jacquie Sherwood and in that moment, I knew I had to get to know her. That has never happened to me before.

  She’s wearing cutoff shorts, a tank top and looking so damn beautiful, while causing an instant hardon. When I found out later that she is Kennedy’s mother, it floored me. She doesn’t look much older than Kennedy.

  I hated that Dex was able to see her looking like that, not to mention the other men out in the world. I have never felt this way before. To be fucking honest, I don’t like it and I do not like what it could mean. She left that day but came back for herself the very next one. I gave her a job as my assistant at a tattooing convention I was going to in Denver.

  I stepped up and did my duty. It has been an honor raising my siblings, but I’ve gone seventeen years without a woman. Suddenly, all I can think about is sliding inside her and breeding her. I know that thought has never crossed my mind before. My hand has gotten more of workout than I care to admit thinking about her smooth, pale skin. Her brown hair grazing my chest.

  Fuck.

  It should be easy to keep it professional.

  Chapter Two

  Jacquie

  Have you ever wished you had taken another path? My life has not been anything you would want to write home about. My mother is certifiable, but she is my best friend. Growing up in a God awful trailer park in Road to Nowhere, Illinois, I hated it and had to get out of there. I felt stifled.

  Dale Sherwood and I messed around a bit his last two years of high school. But in his last year, I knew something had changed with him over the summer. I was faced with the decision that if I wanted to hold onto him, I was going to have to sleep with him. It would not be my first time because I wasn’t a virgin, but it felt serious to me. Now, don’t get me wrong because getting pregnant was never part of the equation. We used protection. But, on the day of his graduation I got a positive pregnancy test and I was scared out of my mind. I didn’t know a damn thing about being a genuine mom. A friend yes, but a mother? No freaking way.

  When he offered to marry me if I would keep the baby and he would get me out of the trailer park, I said yes. I didn’t love him and I knew he didn’t love me. He never once said that he did. To tell the truth, no one has ever said that to me besides Kennedy. And I have never once said it back to her, although I do. Until recently. My baby girl is everything to me and somewhere along the way I lost sight of that.

  When Dale died a few years later in an accident at work, I found out that I was less than nothing to him. I mean, I knew it, but solid proof hurts. There were hundreds of letters to the girl he was in love with. He wrote one to her every day, but they were never sent to her. I can deal with the fact he didn’t love me, because I used him too and deserved the treatment he gave me.

  There was never any sex after we said our vows. We raised our daughter together the best way we could. After his funeral, his mother made it perfectly clear we were unwanted. With no other place to go, I ended up bringing my daughter back to the trailer park and continued raising her as best I could. My mama dialed down the crazy, but it was still there. Of course, it’s shit like that doesn’t just go away.

  I was able to get one shitty job after another to keep Kennedy in the best clothes. Because I knew what it was like to be bullied and made fun of for dressing in cheap hand me downs and I wanted Kennedy to be a star. She is a girl who was shy and book smart though.

  I on the other hand, brought men around my daughter who had no business being near her. Now, I regret doing that because she thought I was the town slut. But in actuality, I really wasn’t. Every man that she thought was a date, was not. I was doing something for each one of them and it wasn’t anything sexual. Instead, I would do all sorts of odd jobs. Helping with taxes or helping them to decide what to buy their wives. Even the ones I actually went out on a date with, I didn’t have sex with. I knew they weren’t my type and I wanted to avoid any unnecessary heartbreak.

  In reality, I have had only two sexual partners. One was my first boyfriend named Billy. He’s a nice guy who has a wife and two kids. He still lives in the trailer park three doors down, but now his family is with him. The other one was my husband, and it was only a couple of times.

  I was disgusted with myself, so I know he had to be too because I will never be good enough for any man. Who would want a woman that is crass and opinionated? I have a loud mouth and I have never met a stranger. I tend to do what I want, when I want to do it. Much to the chagrin of my daughter. When Kennedy was younger, I had purpose. I needed to hustle to make sure my baby had a good life and a good childhood, unlike mine.

  My father bounced before I was born. Stepfather # 1 had a thing for the neighbor, so he was gone pretty quickly. Stepfather # 2 had a closeted latex fetish, so he was out. Surprisingly, my mother is very straight-laced despite her stretching of the truth. Stepfather # 3, Terry was a great man and he is who I consider my dad. He passed away six years ago. Stepfather # 4 is a dick. He is mean to my mom and she just takes it. Personally, I’d kick his ass. He is a bit unbearable, so when Kennedy got a call from her grandfather’s girlfriend, I knew I had to go with her.

  I got on the bus and made the ten-hour journey with her, while feeling her disdain for me the entire way. It was then that I decided I needed to change my ways with her, but it is hard to erase twenty-two years of being one way.

  After we got to the bus station in Moosehead and I could see the instant attraction between her, and her now husband Sterling. My granddaughters Isabella and Reagan were born in November and are now six months old rolling over experts. They bring me constant joy. I am happy my daughter married the love of her life, but I am a little jealous too. While I have known the joy of motherhood, I didn’t have the love of a man to balance me.

  Once my daughter and I had it out before she got married, things are much better between us. We now talk every day and see each other almost as much.

  Moosehead is a quaint town and the cabin I live in is cozy as fuck. It’s out in the forest and about a mile from Sterling and Kennedy. His company built the cabin to my specifications as long as I paid for the materials. It was a very good deal for me. It’s the first time I’ve owned anything for myself. I am insanely proud of it and the decor matches me perfectly, if not a little lonely.

  Once I moved into my new house, I decided to return to my natural hair color. I change from a platinum blonde back to the shiny brown I had when I was growing up. In addition to color, I also had eleven inches taken off the length. It gave me the feeling of a fresh start, and I loved it.

  When Kennedy decided to get a tattoo a few weeks ago, I went with her. Her tattoo artist, Miles, is the hottest man I have ever seen. His roguishly long hair and beard make it seem as if he is a hero from the historical romances I am obsessed with. Add in what I a
m sure is a body full of tattoos, and I am a goner.

  His gaged ears add to making me wet. My panties were soaked for the first time ever, with a dry mouth, I gave him my number. He hired me as his assistant for a convention in Denver giving me my first job in Moosehead. It should be easy, but I know I am going to try to climb that man like a tree. He does something to me and it isn’t something I have ever felt before. I am excited to see where it takes me.

  For him, I’ll risk it.

  Chapter Three

  Miles

  Denver is a disaster. Jax, as I have started calling her is trying to be helpful, but the supplies I mailed never got to the convention center. I am calling the convention a wash after visiting a few booths, I suggested we go back to the hotel. She insisted we share a room, since I was footing the bill. It is exactly where I want her, so I do not say anything that would make her change her mind. I tried to be a gentleman by letting her sleep in the bed, but she plopped on the tiny, prissy looking couch for the last two nights. But, I am done with that shit.

  “Jax, I’ll take the couch tonight.” I say. She looks up at me with her brown eyes big.

  “No freaking way, Miles. I barely fit on this thing. You’re like a foot taller than me.” She says laughing.

  “Then you should sleep in the bed with me. You can’t be comfortable.” I say. I want her by my side and I will do anything to get my way.

  “I don't think that is a good idea.” She says, looking down at her lap.

  “We can be adults about this.” I say. I do not mean it, but if it gets her in the bed…

  “If you are sure?” She asks.

  “I am positive. We are here for another three days. You can’t be cramped up like that the whole time.”

  “Thanks, Miles. You are a good man.”

  I smile at her words, because I do not know what to say about that. My thoughts sure ain’t pure.