Until You Break Me (Ruin and Redemption #1)

Chapter One

Mara

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Recently I’ve felt less calm, as if something is making its way towards me, a storm of sorts, something that will shift the entire axis that my world is situated on. I don’t know what it is yet, but I know it will alter everything.

I give the tattoo a final wipe. Happy with my work, I grab a mirror for my customer.

“You sat well today, how are you feeling?” I ask, smiling down at my work as she marvels at her new ink.

Sage responds with a grin on her face. “I love it so much, thank you.”

I smile again and wrap it in second skin.

“Please make sure you follow the aftercare guide. I don’t want to see you back here next week to get it fixed because the ink bled out or you picked it too much and the line work faded.

Okay?” I warn her, handing over some cleaning solution, a little something I do for my clients to make sure my time wasn’t wasted on them.

“Yes, thank you so much again!” she chirps as she hands me a couple hundred dollar bills.

“That’s far too much for a tip, angel, but thank you.” I try to hand her some of the money back, but she pushes my hands away.

“Dude, you got me lunch, you fed me Red Bull when I needed a caffeine boost, you’re the best tattoo artist I’ve ever had.” She says it with a set expression, she won’t take no for an answer.

“Well, thank you.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I shove the money into my pocket. “Come and see me soon, yeah?”

“Of course, I’ll be bringing everyone I know!” she replies from the doorway, her pants still folded above her knee as she waddles out of the door.

I clean down my station and head into the staff room where the other tattooists are in a heated debate about their favorite ink brand.

“It’s gotta be Nocturnal. Final answer. No arguing,” Jace calls out from the couch.

I raise an eyebrow as I grab a can of Monster from the fridge, leaning against the counter and watching the chaos unfold.

“Mara, please explain to Jace why he’s such an idiot, please,” Olive begs me, eyes pleading.

“I’m sorry, I use Nocturnal too. It doesn’t bleed as much. Nyx on the other hand bleeds like a motherfucker.” I shrug as I crack open the can and relish the feeling of the ice cold drink quenching my thirst.

I grab my tote bag, which is covered in patches and badges from different concerts I’ve been to, and head towards the exit.

“You not coming to the club later?” Jace calls out, giving me his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, which is absolutely hilarious considering he’s about six foot five and has more muscle in his forearm than I have on my entire body.

“I will be. I just need to head home, shower and put something cute on,” I reply, gesturing down to my outfit consisting of a lace trimmed tank top and cargo pants. “This doesn’t exactly scream buy me a drink.” I chuckle.

Jace waves me off and Olive is still pouting about the great ink debate she was having. She’s such a sore loser.

I grab my helmet from my bike seat, pushing the key into the ignition and starting it up. My beat up Harley roars to life. I grin to myself and tap the fuel tank as I throw on the helmet.

I climb onto the seat, my eyes glancing around the sidewalk when they settle on a figure just beyond the alley. His hood covers a decent portion of his face, but I notice the tattoos, the intricate and beautiful designs from his neck down, being cut off by the hoodie he’s using to conceal himself.

I tilt my head and pull off the sidewalk, slowly heading down the street to get a better look at him. Before I get close enough to see his face, he ducks back into the alley and is gone before I make it to the junction.

I speed through the streets, weaving between cars with the kind of ease that only comes from years of riding.

By the time I pull into my building’s lot, I’ve made it home in record time.

I sling my keys onto the sideboard as I walk in and kick off my boots.

They hit the floor with a quiet thud that echoes through the stillness of the apartment.

I head to the fridge, grab a bottle of water, and take a few long gulps before setting it on the counter beside my tote bag. Then I make my way to the bathroom.

After a hot shower, I scrub a full day’s worth of ink from my hands and arms. My skin feels lighter without the faint dusting of black pigment clinging to it.

I towel off and dry my hair before leaning over the sink to start my makeup.

Smoky eyes, thick eyeliner, a dark waterline.

A thin layer of foundation, set with powders that sculpt my features just enough to look intentional without looking overdone.

It’s a routine I could do half-asleep, but it still feels ritualistic, like I’m readying myself for war.

I step out of the bathroom feeling lighter, cleaner, more myself.

The steam follows me into the hallway as I pad toward my bedroom, flicking on the warm lamp in the corner.

The soft glow settles over the room, catching on the edges of the clothes draped over my chair and the jewelry scattered across my dresser.

I pull open my wardrobe and stare at the rows of black, charcoal, and muted tones. I own color, technically, but it rarely survives the final cut. I run my fingers along the fabrics, thinking about the club, the music, the lights, the way the night always feels a little unreal.

I pull out a fitted black top with lace along the neckline.

It is simple but flattering, the kind of thing that makes me feel put together without trying too hard.

I lay it on the bed and grab a pair of high waited trousers that hug my shape just enough to look intentional.

They are comfortable, practical, and still dressy enough for a night out.

I move to my dresser and sift through my jewelry. Silver catches the light and I pick out a few pieces that feel right. A thin chain with a small pendant. A couple of rings. Nothing too heavy. Nothing that will get in the way.

I slip on my boots and grab my jacket from the back of the door. The leather is worn in all the right places and smells faintly of the last dozen nights out. It feels like a second skin.

For a moment, I stand there in the quiet of my room, listening to the hum of the city outside my window. Something in the air feels different tonight. Not bad. Not good. Just charged.

I shoot Olive a quick text letting her know I’m ready and about to head over to the club, I grab my keys, stuffing them into my back pocket and close the door behind me, the lock clicks into place as I head off down the corridor.

I pass someone that seems oddly familiar in the stairwell, I don’t see much of their face as I walk by, just a sharp jawline, set in determination and a scent that stays with me.

There is a warmth to him, something deep and steady, heat rising from skin after being out in the cold too long.

Beneath that is the unmistakable trace of cedar wood, dry and grounding, the kind of scent that lingers on clothes and in memory.

I stagger a moment before I turn back and continue walking, he almost stops as I do, but after a beat he continues walking.

I shake my head and head out of the door, hailing a cab.

I climb inside and give the driver the address, popping my headphones on and getting lost in the busy city before me, watching families pass by, one in particular catches my eye.

A woman that’s in her late 20s walks with a toddler on her hip, beaming a smile down at the little boy, his little hand reaches up to touch her nose, she scrunches it and plants a kiss on his cheek, rewarding the mother with a giggle, I find myself transfixed at the sight, a small smile forming on my face.

The cab pulls up outside of the bar, Jace and Olive are already waiting for me, arguing about something else, I wish they’d both just fuck already, the tension is surely killing me.

“Are you two lovebirds arguing yet again?” I question as I walk up to them, my arms crossed in front of me “I swear if you don’t just hate-fuck it out already I’m gonna quit.” I continue in a teasing tone, Olives cheeks turn a bright red and Jace turns away from her.

“Still in denial, I see.” I state deadpan before I head into the bar, bee lining straight for the bar I take a seat on the end and hail the bartender over, who just so happens to be my best friend, Shae.

“Hey gorgeous, wanna get me a drink?” I grin at her, leaning forward on the bar and planting my face on my hands as if to bat my eyelashes at her, she returns the smile and grabs my favorite whiskey from the shelf “See, this is why I love you. I may have to promote you to shop manager.” I blow her a kiss as she places the drink in front of me.

Jace sits beside me and tries to get Shae’s attention.

“I swear that woman hates me.” Jace sulks as he continues to try and wave her over, the other bartender sees him struggling and walks to our side of the bar, he places an order for him and Olive and turns to face me “I don’t know what I did.” Jace says to me, glancing over at Shae.

“Dude, the girl was eye fucking you for weeks, you didn’t notice her and she gave up, she just isn’t interested in you at this point.” I defend my best friend instinctively.

“Maybe if you pulled your head out your ass every once in a while and stopped chasing Olive who clearly wants any cock but yours you’d see there are other women that aren’t absolute assholes.

” I continue, glancing over at Olive who has found her next target in record time, some trust fund kid in an expensive suit who is ushering her into the VIP area.

“Well, looks like its just us two tonight.” I raise my glass to him and chuckle “God I have no idea how she hasn’t ended up with an STD yet. ”

“Shae!” Jace calls out to her again, finally she gives in and heads towards us