Splintered Hearts

Thirty Five

Jamie

“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any walk-in availability today?” Fuck, what am I doing? Ian might not even be there today. Maybe he sold it to someone new. Even as that thought comes to mind, I know it’s not true. Ian is there.

Madd Ink.

Yeah. Only one person I know would have kept that name. “I, uh... I just need an appointment, soon. Like, today.” Honestly, now. Noah fell asleep an hour ago. We’re not leaving until the afternoon and had stayed up all night binge-watching a drama and trading orgasms. I’m wrung out, but I need to do this. I can try and sleep on the ride home.

“Let me go see if he’s free today.”

“Thanks.”

Anxiety pulses in my chest with each second I wait. “He said he doesn’t have any availability, but you’re welcome to make an appointment.”

“Oh, um . . . It’s kind of an emergency.”

“Emergency?”

I think for a moment. I hate to do this. Honestly, I don’t really know the reaction I’m about to get. “Can you, uh... can you tell him it’s Jamie?”

“Honey, you could be Hugh Jackman and it wouldn’t matter. He’s just booked today.”

“Please. Just please tell him it’s Jamie.”

She sighs. “Alright, one moment.” After a few minutes I hear the phone crackle on the other end before she’s back. “Please tell me you’re a lover. That man needs to get laid— ow !” I hear voices on the other end... some words that sound like curses in a language I don’t understand. “Sorry, my great almighty boss says come as soon as you can. Sooner the better.”

“Tell him I’m leaving the lake house now. I have to walk. Be there soon.”

With every step to the shop I feel my stomach sink deeper and deeper. I love this little town but there’s too much history between us to really enjoy it. Next time. After Noah knows everything I’ll take him around town. Last night was world-ending. I definitely still prefer topping, but last night changed shit. The amount of love poured into me by that man has changed my brain chemistry.

Noah fucking loves me.

And I’m about to show him how much I love him back.

This is way overdue, but the shame of it makes me sick, and I have no idea what I’m walking into.

Relief and devastation hit me as I enter the shop. It’s... the same, but also not. Same brick wall. Same shitty art pieces that Maddox just had to fucking have despite all of us saying they looked stupid.

And his art is ... everywhere.

This used to be my fucking home.

Now, I’m a stranger.

“Hey.” A pretty woman with pink and black hair smiles at me. Her purple lips grow into a wide smile, and her body is covered in tattoos. She also has snake-bite piercings and a septum ring. One tattoo in particular catches my eye.

“Hey, did Maddox do that?” I point to the one on her throat; it has his vibe all over it.

Nodding, she cups her neck. “Yeah, he did”

I lift the arm of my sleeve. “He did all mine, but this one was his first big one.”

“That’s sick. He was so—”

“Holy fucking shit!” Watching Ian enter the main lobby I feel numb. It’s been nearly five years, but Ian hasn’t changed a bit. If anything, he just looks more handsome, and also a little tired. Okay, very tired. It’s in his eyes.

I feel guilty for not visiting, but Ian hasn’t visited me either.

I’m not sure where we stand.

I hate this awkwardness. What am I even going to say to him? Despite the mental pep talk I gave myself while walking down here, I feel my throat tighten. “I...” Looking around the shop I see two other stations. Ian’s still sits toward the back, littered with pictures. This is surreal. “I...”

Ian watches me for a second. Tattoos now crawl up his throat and his dark blond hair is more messy than mussed, like he’s been running his fingers through it. Is he as nervous as I am?

Breaking the tension, Ian walks toward me, and I brace myself for a punch in the face, but I’m surprised when he engulfs me in his arms instead. Maybe he’s going to squeeze me to death. Yes, that’s probably it. “I want to fucking punch you, but I’m too happy to see you.” After a moment, he lets go, and I don’t know what to say. “Hey, Ice Queen, when is my next appointment?”

“Uh.” Looking so fucking confused, she checks his schedule. “One.” He looks up at the clock. “Julian’s coming at noon. He has an appointment.”

“She said you needed work done?”

“Uh... yeah, I just... It has to be done soon, and I... I mean, I didn’t want—” Fuck, I need to get a grip. This is a lot. “I didn’t want anyone else to do it.” It feels right. I swore that no one else was going to tattoo me as long as I lived, but having Ian do it —someone who loved Maddox even more than I did—just feels right.

“Come on back. We have some catching up to do.”

Coming back here feels like home. Sinking into the black chair, I feel so many memories surrounding me. My eyes wander over the pictures on the mirror. One of Maddox, Luci, Ian, and me catches my attention. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I have to look away.

“What am I doing today? It’s just gotta be small. I don’t have that much time. I’m sorry.”

“No worries. I know it’s last minute.”

“Let me see—”

“That’s it?” I can’t take this awkward dance any more.

“What?”

“It’s been years. You don’t have anything to say to me? I don’t know. Scream at me. Fucking punch me. Something. I don’t... I can’t...” I need to breathe or else I’ll have a panic attack. Anxiety chews at my flesh but I try so hard not to let it overtake me. After the accident I would often black out from it. While this is less violent it’s no less uncomfortable.

Ian runs his tongue along his cheek, then looks at the girl desperately pretending not to listen. “Hey Anna,” he says, and she swivels in her chair, wide-eyed. “Can you give us about twenty minutes? Use the card to get something for lunch.”

She nods, getting up. “You want anything?”

“No, I’m good.” Ian asks me, “You?”

I shake my head. I couldn’t eat right now if I tried. The breakfast I did eat is already turning in my stomach. Finally she leaves, and Ian’s shoulders sink. “I’m just so happy to fucking see you. I don’t know what to think. This is awkward and weird and I don’t know.” He runs a hand through his hair, roughing up the fauxhawk he has. “Five years. Five.” Sitting back he crosses his tattooed arms over his chest. “I wanted to come see you.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know what to say. I was just pissed and unhappy and I don’t know, fucking devastated. Madd was everything to me, and I don’t know. We’d literally just opened this shop together. It was his fucking dream and then he was gone. Just like that.”

“I... I wanted to see you. I just—”

“Shut everyone out. I know. I talk to Xavi still, occasionally. He comes up sometimes.” That takes me by surprise. “Yeah, that’s right. Little bro got some ink.” That surprises me too. Not that he had it done, but that he didn’t tell me. Although, I haven’t been the most understanding person these last few years. “I know it’s been hard for you. I can’t even imagine being in the car that night.”

“I fucked everyone’s life up.”

“You didn’t—”

“Please don’t. I’m trying so fucking hard, but please don’t do that. I know, but I can’t hear that.”

“You stopped talking to everyone. It was like you died too. For that you can be sorry, but not the accident. You couldn’t have known some asshole would make a horrific choice.”

All these years I thought about what it would be like to see Ian again. While we were close, Maddox was my best friend. I met him the summer I turned eighteen and we clicked instantly. He met Ian a year later. My breathing brackets a bit and I try to stay here in this moment and not black out. “I’m sorry. For all of it. For taking this long to see you especially.”

“I don’t know what made you come down now and I don’t care. I understand you went through hell, but I wish you hadn’t shut me out. We both lost too much as it is.”

Words are lost to me. My gaze drifts over the shop. It looks almost the same even though it’s been five years. My throat tightens seeing the empty space where Maddox’s station used to be. He barely even got to use it.

There are four along the walls and Maddox chose the farthest. “No one sits there. It’s his. It will always be his spot,” Ian says. My throat tightens and it’s all I can do to get my shit together. Seeing Ian has hit me worse than I thought it would.

All these memories just kept rushing toward me. “How many artists work here?”

“I have one permanent one. The other chair I leave open for apprentices or artists who maybe don’t have a permanent spot yet. It’s nice. Anna’s great. She keeps my shit together, since he’s not here to do it.” He smiles sadly.

“It’s doing good then?”

“It’s great. I think he’d be proud.”

I look up, expecting to see Maddox’s painting. “Where’s the vampire mistress?”

“I took that shit down.” He laughs. “That thing was hideous and we both know it.” I laugh harder. Maddox loved weird fucking art and often went around to yard sales to find the weirdest fucking pieces. One vampire-woman painting he had bought looked as if the artist was maybe five years old and was given oil paints without any idea how to use them. “I loved him but he did not have taste.”

“Art is subjective.”

“Yeah, well, his subjective ass loved hideous fucking art.” Ian shakes his head. “I took it down the week after the funeral. I was so fucking mad at him. I was in the anger stage. I’d always hated it, but you know him. Could talk his fucking way out of or into any situation. Especially when it came to me.” It’s nice to talk about this. No one else around me knew Maddox this way. “So, how much ink you got now?”

That abrupt change snaps my attention. Noticing the sheen in Ian’s eyes I take the topic change for what it is, letting it go and reminding myself why I’m here. “None. That dragon was my last.”

“Oh shit, really? Ink-addict Jamie.” He laughs. At one point I’d wanted tattoos all over my body—until life hit me. Almost dying was in fact not cheap, and any money I got went on hospital bills and the house. Not that I even had a desire to get any more.

Until now.

“I want to know if you can tattoo something small. I don’t want you to miss an appointment, though.”

“What is it?”

I can do this. I stand up out of the chair and scroll through my phone, finding the picture. “I want you to tattoo this, exactly how it is, color and everything, about three inches tall.” Ian frowns as he grabs my phone. “I want it here.” I take off my shirt, and Ian’s eyes roam over my skin taking in my scars. It’s probably the first time he’s actually seen evidence of the worst night of our lives. Then his eyes drag up, and I brace myself.

Looking back down at the phone, he shakes his head. “Is that... a penis?”

“Yes.”

“Why . . . why is it smiling?”

I try so hard to not laugh. “Because my boyfriend is a maniac and I love him more than anything.”

“Boyfriend?” My sexuality was never a secret, but still Ian looks surprised. “Wow.” He shakes his head, standing to look at it. “That thing looks ridiculous.”

“I know.”

“You come to me for the first time in years so I can tattoo a fat cock on your chest?” I nod. Ian just shakes his head, waving me over to sign the consent forms. “Madd would be so fucking pissed if he knew you were doing this. He had a flow. A vision.”

“Says the random-ass tattoos on my arm.”

‘That was his practice skin.” He barks out a laugh. “You know he planned to give you a full sleeve eventually.” That had been the idea once upon a time. The random drawings were not bad but he had an idea to form one solid arm sleeve when he got better. Taking a picture with his tablet, Ian gets to work drawing over it then printing out a stencil. “You sure you want this in color?” I nod. “Black and gray was always your thing.”

“Except for the cherry blossoms.”

“That was for Luci. She thought you needed a little color in your life.” And she had been that color for years. Then she died, and I lived in a world devoid of anything. Then came Noah and he pulled that color back in by the scruff of it’s neck. “Maddox, I’m sorry your friend is insane. Please don’t be mad at me, baby.”

Swallowing, I don’t trust my voice before I try and say thank you.

“Of course, man. Anything.” Ian sets up his station while I sit with anticipation as he prints and places the stencil. The pain isn’t the worry, and thankfully there’s no scar on my left pec. Still, sitting in this chair after all this time is surreal. He cleans my skin and sets the stencil down, but I can see his eyes and can’t ignore the way they waver to the scars all over my chest. He lifts his soft blue eyes then looks back down. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

Ian busies himself laying the stencil down. “I didn’t get to see him after.” It’s quiet but I flinch at the impact. “His parents wanted a closed casket because... you know. I guess he was really bad.” Bracing myself, I know what he’s about to ask me. “Did you see him?”

“I was behind him. I didn’t see him. I saw Ailee though, a little. I knew she was dead and... and...” Broken. Odd angles. Lifeless brown eyes. “I saw Luci. She was sitting next to me.” She had slumped against me while she slept, and I often wonder whether she would have survived if she’d been sitting up normally like me. I learned afterwards that the driver had hit us from Maddox’s side and he’d had no chance, unfortunately. Like Luci. Like Ailee. I admit I’m glad I didn’t see him. There was a closed casket for a reason. Seeing Luci was enough.

“I’m sorry, man.” He sniffs, looking away, clearing his throat again. “I just wanted to see him one last time, ya know?”

“I know it doesn’t help but—” God, when the fuck did I become so chatty. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t seen her. That’s the last image I have of her. It’s horrible.” Even five years later I can’t forget.

“You’re probably right.” Ian focuses on setting up. A door opens and I expect to see the woman from earlier. Instead, a man with deep brown skin walks in, eying Ian curiously. Tattoos crawl up his arms all the way to his neck. The word treasure arches above the flow of his pierced eyebrow. His dreads are tied into a bun, the sides of his head shaved. He has gauges a little bigger than my twelve millimeters and tattoos on every visible surface, the loose gray tank top he’s wearing showing off his tattooed ribs. “Where’s the menace?”

That makes Ian smile, and I can’t ignore the look in his eyes as he watches this man. “She’ll be back any minute. Now’s your time Julian for retaliation if you want it.” A warm, rich laugh leaves this guy.

“I nearly sat on one of those fucking ducks. I usually ask to be wined and dined first.” He winks and I cannot unsee the soft blush on Ian’s face.

“Foreplay.”

“Not foreplay! I hate her.” He laughs. “I’m sure she’d peg a man just fine, but I prefer the real thing.” He laughs, then almost as if he’s seeing me for the first time he stops laughing. “Sorry, I—”

“I’m tattooing a tiny fat cock that his boyfriend drew, on his chest. Don’t you dare apologize to him.”

“Tiny... fat...” He comes over, looking at the stencil. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” I don’t know if he’s talking to me or Ian but I nod all the same.

The menace in question blows into the shop. “Jules, I swear to fuck I better not find any ducks at my goddamn desk! Ian made me leave, leaving my shit defenseless.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Julian purrs. “You miss me?”

“Like a bullet.” She winks.

“They’re dumb. Ignore them. I do my best.” He asks if I’m ready and I nod, letting the familiar buzz of the machine calm me. It nearly sets my soul to sleep at the comfort of it. They hurt, don’t get me wrong. It’s a pain I welcome, though. It’s a type of pain that centers my brain. It’s addicting and I absolutely love it.

Relaxing, my eyes drift over the shop before they land on Julian’s handsome face as he watches Ian. Taking note of my gaze, he diverts his, looking at his equipment and setting up for the day. He took the middle booth and I wonder if he’s the permanent artist or an apprentice. He looks about thirty, but people start careers late in life all the time.

Anna walks over, bending over Ian’s shoulder before her cute face scrunches up. “Is that a—”

The machine cuts off. “Tiny cock. Yes.”

“It’s my boyfriend’s tiny cock.” I laugh and Ian stops the machine. “Sorry.”

“Sit still or it’s going to be a fucked-up tiny dick.” The machine starts again as I hold steady. The hum is low enough to hear him talk. “I’m afraid to ask how this even came about.”

How am I going to explain this? “I don’t know if you want to hear this.”

He shuts the machine off, looking at me flatly. “Jamie, I haven’t seen you in five years and I’m tattooing a dick on your chest with a rainbow head. I need answers.”

I give in because why the fuck not. It’ll be the lightest thing we talk about today. “In August I met this guy, he became my roommate. His best friend is actually Hunter’s boyfriend.”

“No shit.”

I nod. “Last night he fucked me for the first time and I told him I loved him. He drew this on me a couple of weeks ago. When we first met he told his best friend I had a rainbow-glitter cock. It became a thing, so he drew it to be a funny smart-ass.” Because he’s my funny smart-ass.

“I’m going to surprise him.”

“You don’t think he’ll be a little pissed?”

“You don’t know Noah. He’s going to think this is the greatest fucking thing ever.” Last night he gave me a gift and now I’m returning the favor. I’m not sure what the future will bring, but I know one thing for sure.

I’ll always belong to Noah.

“Holy fucking shit.” Anna squeals. “It’s so cute!”

I look in the mirror and can’t stop the dumb-ass grin on my face. It’s come out exactly the way Noah had drawn it. It’s hard to make something look glittery but Ian has somehow nailed the diamond-sparkle effect of the shaft. The head is a shaded rainbow, just the way Noah drew it with the smiley face. “This is amazing, thank you.”

“I don’t want you to thank me for that.”

Julian comes up to look at it with a grin. “Makes me think of my ex. Maybe I should call him.” Ian whips him with a towel, making him laugh. Wrapping the spot he gives me the whole aftercare thing he legally has to, as if I haven’t done this a thousand times before.

“How much?”

“Free.”

“No. No, don’t do that. How much?” Ian chews on his lip before grabbing an onyx glass jar. It takes me a moment to realize what it is. “Donations?”

Ian nods. “We donate art supplies to the high school here, and Julian and I teach some night classes to kids who need a little guidance. We take donations for help.” I look at the name.

The Madd Ink Foundation.

I grab my wallet and leave two hundred dollars in the jar before Ian hands it back to Anna. “Thank you.”

“You better message me, asshole. I’m not letting you disappear for another five years. Plus, we need to talk about your other leg. Maddox had big plans, which I intend to see through.” While the idea of another tattoo is daunting, I nod.

Ian gathers me into a tight hug and it’s everything I can fucking do not to break down again. “Thank you.”

“It’s good to see you. Don’t disappear on me again.”

“I won’t.”

My chest feels a little tight. I don’t like this part of getting tattoos. The feel of the plastic always makes my skin crawl, and I hope Noah won’t notice it until we get back and I can take off the plastic wrap. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.

“Jamie?”

Stopping, I turn at the voice. The impossible familiarity sends a sheet of ice down my spine, and it takes me a minute to find the source before I see her stomping up to me.

Ailee.

Well, no, not Ailee, her sister Ariana. Her twin in every fucking way. I nearly lose my shit. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

A little older, but she looks the way I remember Ailee. Pretty and petite, ripped straight out of one of those shows with the dance competitions. “Ari I—”

“You really have no fucking shame, do you? Did you just leave Ian’s—”

“Look, I—”

“You’re disgusting. How dare you come here.” I feel fucking numb. “I always told my sister you were a fucking loser but she wouldn’t listen. You got her killed.”

“You don’t know shit—”

“She was texting me the whole night! You treated her like shit. Kept her around as some fucking plaything while you had a thing for your own sister like a fucking pervert.” I didn’t even have it in me to correct her, to say we were in no way blood related, didn’t even grow up together. “I told her you were trash but she didn’t believe me. Even your own mother didn’t want you!”

I bite my tongue and the awful shit I want to say back. I can’t because she’s right. She’s right.

“If you do anything right with your miserable life you’ll end it and never make another person suffer the way Ailee did.” I almost brace for her to hit me, but instead she storms away.

She’s right.

What the fuck am I doing?

Noah.

The only thing I can ever give Noah is pain, like everyone else in my life. All I do is hurt people. I’m worthless. How did I even think I could be anything? I’m the worst thing to happen to anyone.

No. No fucking way am I doing this again.

I’m not hurting another person I love.