Chapter 9
Annalese
I wake up the next morning alone in Haze’s bed. The two bedrooms might be small, but the beds are huge. I’m guessing it’s because they were bought with the intention of holding two big muscle-bound bikers. I noticed when I first arrived, that Haze and his brother are almost mirror images in terms of build. Haze is the better looking of the two, I decide while laying dreamily between his sheets. He has better facial symmetry. And a cute smirk.
I’m feeling better than I have in ages. It’s like all the stress in my life has been lifted off my shoulders. Haze acts as if he has to work hard to gain my favor. He doesn’t know that he’s already my hero for saving my life, taking care of me in the hospital, and providing me a place to stay while I recuperate.
The amazing orgasms last night are just the icing on an otherwise delicious cake.
It’s looking like it’s going to be a wonderful day. My arm isn’t even itching under my cast. Maybe there is some kind of connection between having a shockingly good orgasm and decreased pain? Something related to endorphins. Either that, or it’s a sign that finally my arm has healed. I’ve got an appointment at the hospital next week and with any luck I’ll be getting this damned cast off.
I decide to stop being lazy and get out of bed. My clit tingles as I walk, still sensitive from all the licking last night. I told him once was enough, but he talked me into two more. So, I guess that I should add generous to his growing list of likable attributes.
I clean up in the bathroom and it takes forever to get out all the tangles because I went to bed with wet hair. I make a mental note not to do that again. When I’m done, I head to my own room and dig through the bags of clothing Haze bought me at the mall. Today, I squirm into a pair of jeans because I’m tired of wearing yoga pants all the time. Dressing myself is a bit of challenge, because I can’t put any pressure on my bad arm and fastening buttons is tricky. But if I take my time, I can manage.
After dressing, I go make Haze’s bed and straighten up his small apartment. Instead of cooking myself breakfast, I pull out a slice of cold pizza and munch on it. The pizza he got is huge. The slice I’m eating is almost the size of my head. It’s just as good cold as it was hot. I wash the pizza down with a glass of water, making a mental reminder to get more orange juice at the grocery store. It’s a wonder Haze doesn’t have a coffee pot. I guess he must not care for morning brew—or maybe he just prefers coffee from the coffee shop over the road. After looking around for something to do, I decide to go out and see if Haze needs food or anything.
The minute I step out there are a dozen eyes on me. It’s around eight-thirty in the morning and the place is already slamming. Not entirely surprising, they’re all men. That is except the woman standing behind the counter. I recognize her as Trix. She’s married to Haze’s brother and visited me quite regularly when I was in rehab. She was in the middle of what sounded like a heated discussion with Vapor.
“She called me fat,” Trix’s eyes are glistening, and she looks on the verge of tears.
“Babe, she’s talking shit. Don’t listen to her,” Vapor says soothingly.
Haze is trying to ignore them, but I hear him mutter something about, “Fucking Brittany,” under his breath.
On seeing me, Trix stops her rant and comes over. I notice the top button on her jeans is undone, she looks fantastic as far as I can see, almost glowing. But I guess we all have days when we don’t feel top notch, I sometimes get awful bloating when it’s my time of the month, so I politely don’t tell her it’s open in case she left it unbuttoned intentionally.
She’s always been nice to me and I’m eager to talk to her again. Haze’s head pops up from tattooing some military guy’s back. He gives me a sexy grin and jerks his chin for me to come closer. I’m too embarrassed to go to him with everyone staring me down, sure that they’ll all know what happened between us last night.
Trix grabs my hand and pulls me towards the sofas. “My God, you look amazing. How are feeling? Is your arm still hurting?”
“I’m doing really well. They’re talking about removing the cast in a week or so. I’m still taking pain meds, but I feel a lot better,” I say.
“Has Haze been treating you right? I know how he is with women, so I hope he hasn’t been trying to get you to jump into bed with him right off the bat.”
I press my lips together to stop myself from laughing because she’s not wrong about him. But obviously it’s written all over my face.
She bursts out laughing. “That dirty dog. I knew he was going to try to romance you. He was way too possessive about you during your medical stays.”
I lean over and tell her conspiratorially, “We call that protective, not possessive.”
“Oh my gawd, that man’s a smooth-talking devil and he’s already got you in his thrall. You had better be careful, cause if you’re not, one day you’re gonna wake up with a ring on your finger and three kids begging for pancakes.”
I laugh at that, “I don’t think so.”
Her face goes serious for a moment, “I wasn’t looking for anything serious with Vapor and look how that turned out.”
“You look pretty happy to me, though you’d better watch out when you and Vapor decide to have kids. If multiple births run in the family, then you might get all three kids at once,” I laugh.
I was expecting her to laugh at my lame joke, because twins do run in families. But instead, she pales and starts hyperventilating right in front of me. Vapor comes over and shoots me a dirty look before encouraging her to slow down her breathing. “Calm down. You’re just having a panic attack.”
She reaches out one hand to clutch his cut and gasps, “I can’t deal with this right now.”
“Babe, relax it’s not good, you getting upset.”
I don’t know if it’s me who’s upset Trix, or if there’s something else going on. I get up and back away, appalled at the mess I so innocently started. “Sorry,” I stammer, not really knowing what to do to make this right.
They don’t pay me any mind because they’re wrapped up in each other. Vapor rubs her back, talking her through it. “You’re not having a heart attack, so you can stop clawing at your chest that way, precious.”
“Are you sure? I feel like I am.”
Her big biker states soothingly, “You’re not going to die. Trust me on that, baby.” His tone of voice is encouraging, calming and relaxed. He must have done this before, I think.
Suddenly, Haze is standing behind me. He slips his arm around my waist and draws me back, away from this senseless crisis that I so stupidly started.
When we get back to his now empty booth, I say, “Look, I’m sorry if I sent her into a spiral. I didn’t mean anything. I’m not sure what I said.”
He sits and draws me down into his lap. “She’s been acting a bit weird recently, I think something Brittany said to her this morning set her off.”
“I need to learn to keep my big fat mouth shut.” I can feel my face getting hot with shame. Trix has been really nice to me. I hate upsetting her.
Haze wraps his hand around my ponytail and gently tugs my head back so he can look me in the eye. “I won’t have you walking on eggshells around my family. Don’t take it personally, she’s got a lot on her plate. She helps her brother Tracker run the bar in town, and since her sister-in-law had a baby, she’s working a few extra shifts at the bar, while Mel’s filling in at the clubhouse. Trix is a nice woman but whatever is going on with her, is up to her and my brother to resolve.”
We both turn around when the bell attached to the top of the door jingles, just in time to see Vapor run out, hot on Trix’s heels. “Well, it looks like you’re going to be helping me pick up the slack, since our other tattoo artist just left me high and dry.”
“What? I don’t know anything about tattooing!” I can’t imagine what he has in mind for me.
He gives me a lopsided grin and jerks his chin towards the counter. “We take it in turns to answer the phone, sometimes Trix helps out if she’s here but…”
I suddenly had an idea, a way I could help out and earn my keep, “What you need is a full-time receptionist and salesclerk!”
A slow smile creeps across Haze’s face, “You’re a smart lady. That would solve all our problems, plus it means I get to see your beautiful face all day long.”
“And it’s a way to pay off my debt,” I say.
The smile vanishes, “Don’t be silly, I told you. Don’t worry about that. If you’re gonna be working here, then you’ll get a wage. I need to run it past Vapor as he’s a co-owner, but I’m sure he’ll agree. It will free both of us up to concentrate on the customers.”
This looks to be a win-win situation for all of us, “I can start now, if you want?”
“Great! I’m sure you know how to run the simplest cash register ever made this side of the Rio Grande, but I can show you if you want?”
I grin at him, “I should be okay, I can cash people out and run credit cards. I learned that from working summer jobs as a teen.”
“Well, I’m going to fill out a ticket with the amount you need to charge. We’re not fancy around here. You check them out, take incoming phone calls and talk to walk-in customers. The scheduling book has highlighted space available for new customers because those appointments take longer. If you have any questions, just ask. I’ll just start slinging ink like a madman.”
“Got it,” I say with enthusiasm, eager to help out after knocking everything off course. Since there is no real merchandise to handle, this is definitely something I can do with my arm still in a cast. In fact, this is a brilliant idea. It not only gives me a way to make up for the trouble I caused, but it gives me something productive to do with my time. Sitting around with nothing to do makes time drag.
Once I’m behind the counter, I look over their set-up with a critical eye. The cash register is a basic model that I’ve used before. All the keys are labeled and there is a cheat sheet, explaining the codes, taped to the glass countertop.
Peering through the glass, I notice, for the first time, they do actually sell items. There are little bottles of special cleanser and moisturizers for tattoo aftercare, and an assortment of body piercing jewelry. Some of the pieces are really pretty. Everything is relatively small and should be easy enough for me to handle one handed. I feel around under the storage space underneath and find small paper bags with the name of the tattoo parlor printed across the front. There is even a bunch of blank consent forms stacked neatly off to the side. Everything seems to be in order.
***
While Haze worked on his customers, I busied myself rearranging the display cabinet. Everything was small and light, so it was easy enough to do one-handed. I glance over at Haze to find him looking at me, as his customer checks out the new tattoo on his arm. I can’t make out the design from here, but it looks intricate. The expression on the man’s face is approving. Haze holds up a small sheet of paper with a lopsided grin. I realize immediately that it’s the customer’s ticket. Within moments the gentleman wanders over and hands me the little square of paper. It’s about the size of the palm of my hand with a code and price scribbled on. Haze also added a notation for cleanser and lotion with questions marks, plainly prompting me to upsell.
I glance down at the tattoo positioned just above his wrist and then flash his customer a smile. “Nice skull and crossbones.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be the beginning of sleeve. I’m just going to keep adding designs I like all the way up to my shoulder.”
“Sort of a collection of images that are special to you in some way, right?”
A genuine smile spreads across his face, making him look almost boyish. It drives home the fact that he’s barely legal. “You’re over eighteen, right?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, they carded me when I came in. You’ve got a copy of ID somewhere back there.”
My eyes jump around and land on a plastic file box. I’m pretty sure that’s where they keep consents and paperwork. Since he’s already been carded and clearly signed the release, I just talk to him about the aftercare products. He takes one of each. The whole process goes quickly. I look through the scheduling book laying open on the counter and make him an appointment for next month and he leaves the shop a satisfied customer.
I find that I’m looking forward to the rest of the day because the shop has a great vibe. The customers are nice enough and Haze continues tattooing like a madman. His brother still hadn’t returned, and Haze had gotten me to call his afternoon appointments to reschedule. I’d been expecting to get an earful, but all the clients seem really understanding. We just told them it was a family emergency. So, I have a pleasant afternoon ahead with my handsome biker to look forward to. He’s crazy hot and I find my mind wandering back to last night as I watch him work.
I know there’s no use even thinking about having something real and long term with this gorgeous, playful biker. I’m on the run from my stepbrother and asshole ex, who think they fucking own me. And Haze is a straight shooter. I doubt he’d take too kindly to being lied to, and whether or not I want to admit it, I’ve lied to him from the jump. I’m using an alias for fuck’s sake. That means this man who gave me several outstanding orgasms doesn’t even know my real name. I’ve very aware just how messed up that is.
I absentmindedly pick up the phone when it rings. “Savage Tattoos. This is Anna. How may I help you?”
“I want a tattoo. When can you fit me in?”
“Are you a new customer or have you had work done here before?”
“New customer.”
Flipping through the book, I say, “The first appointment we have open is for the eighteenth, at ten in the morning. That’s over two weeks out. Will that work for you, or do I need to keep looking?”
“I’ll take it. My name is Rick.”
“Last name?” I ask as I begin to write his name in the book.
“Just Rick.”
“All right, just Rick. I’ve got you down for the eighteenth at ten.”
“I’ll see you then, Annalese.”
The phone goes dead, and it takes me a minute to realize he called me Annalese even though I gave my name as Anna. A chill creeps up my spine. Anna could be short for Annabelle, Anastasia, or any number of other names besides Annalese.
I immediately start spiraling, because how could this stranger have known my real name? My mind goes back to the conversation I overheard between my stepbrother and my ex, the reason for me running like the wind. I try and steady my breathing, I knew they were just talking shit, but that was the point that I had to get away from them. I force myself to sit down on one of the stools and take a deep breath or two. Logic starts to take over. I didn’t recognize the voice. Therefore, the person didn’t recognize me. That means it must have just been some bizarre coincidence and nothing to do with my past life. Nothing else makes sense in the context of this situation. I let that knowledge settle over me, as I become aware that Haze is talking to his next customer about their design.