Ink (28 page)

“
Young lady, you don’t want to be laying hands on my wife or you may end up like that there friend of yours,” Tucker’s dad warned.

Tucker jumped in front of his dad, pushing me away from him. The more crimson his face became, the more I knew he was getting that much angrier.

“
Don’t touch me,” I hissed at Tucker, shaking his grip off of my arms.

“
I’m trying to do you a favor,” he said low, backing me up some more. I shook his hands off me once more, stepping to the side to get in view of his dad again.

“
My friend didn’t do anything wrong. Seems kind of funny you’re the one drugging teenage girls and trying god knows what. But Slade, he does nothing wrong and your son can have him arrested with one single phone call. Bullshit if you ask me.” I resented the last part that came out of my mouth, but I was on a rant, and when you’re on a rant you have no control of the words leaving your mouth.

All I remembered was the blood draining from Tucker’s face, his body appearing to stiffen as my words were set free onto public ears. He gripped me by the shoulders. “You need to get out of here, Hope.”

I slapped him away. “Oh, was it something I said?”

Everett balled his fists in his shopping bags while Anita’s arms crossed and she glared at me and then her husband.

“
You don’t know who you’re messing with, you little bitch!” Anita yapped.

I swatted her words away like an annoying gnat. “Oh I think I have it figured out.” I crossed my arms “Mr. Sinclair thinks he’s untouchable and can go around doing whatever it is he wants. And this whole town thinks they can treat anyone not like them like crap. Slade is the only good person in this town, yet he is the one going down for somebody else’s screw up!”

“
Hope, stop talking and get out of here now!” Tucker warned me again.

“
What are you so afraid of, Tucker? Afraid you’re going to disappoint your daddy?” I taunted. “He’s not my dad. I could give two shits what he thinks about what I have to say. In fact, I think he deserves to hear what I have to say. Everyone does.”

The growing crowd of women and men, kids and employees remained frozen in place. They were ready to hear more. I licked my lips, taking a breath before I said any more. I knew I was treading on shaky ground. I had just seen Slade carted off the night before because of these people. But I didn’t care.

“
You drugged me that night. You drugged me and I think if it wouldn’t have been for–”

Before anymore accusations could leave my lips, Slade appeared, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me away from them, his shoulder checking Tucker’s as he shoved me back toward the sunglasses.

“
What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, his face inches from my own. His hands held mine in place, waiting for answers.

“
Defending you,” I told him. He let go of me, his face full of concern.

“
I don’t need defending. You. Can. Not. Talk to him that way,” Slade told me, staring me down.

“
Why? They run around talking to us anyways they want,” I said loudly, hoping they heard every word coming out of my mouth still.

“
Get her out of here,” Tucker said, approaching us. He kept looking over his shoulder nervously at his dad.

Slade bit at his lip ring looking rather agitated. “Go back over to your dad. I’ll take care of Hope.”

“
I mean it, get her out of here, Slade,” Tucker said again.

“
Or what!” I yelled. I was tired of the threats. Slade took hold of my arm forcefully and dragged me all the way off the boardwalk, not giving my feet even a second to try to resist him.

“
Stop it. You need to stop egging these people on. Don’t defend me anymore!” Slade said loudly. I felt like a child being scolded by their angry older brother. And as soon as my eyes fell to the ground and regret filled my body, Slade brushed my cheek with his hand. “Come on, let’s go. “

“
What if I don’t want to go with you?” I said, trying to act stubborn.

“
Well, then I’ll walk you home,” he said, searching my eyes.

I sighed. “You don’t have to be so mean to me. I was defending you.”

“
Thank you. I would have said thank you if it wasn’t such a horrible thing to do.”

I scoffed. “How is that horrible? You were arrested last night at my house for nothing. When did you get out, by the way?”

We headed into Henry Park as the conversation continued. The loud roar of music making it rather difficult to hear anything Slade was saying. He took hold of my hand, slicing through the crowd at a fast pace.

“
An hour ago, maybe. I was on my way to see you when I stumbled upon you making the worst possible mistake ever,” he said as we passed the stage. I caught a glimpse of Oz and Kidd jamming away, the crowd rocking out to the music.

“
I don’t care if he arrests me. I didn’t do anything wrong. I know my rights.”

“
Did you not see me being carted away for nothing last night?” Slade asked. He unlocked the bus, letting me in first. I slid into the booth, the one we all sat at the first night I was there.

I stared at my hands. I felt bad suddenly. Silence filled the bus.

“
Look,” Slade started, setting a soda in front of me. He cracked his open. “I’m acting upset because I don’t want to see anything happen to you.” I stayed silent. “I also am upset because I was there that night.”

I finally raised my head. “What night?” But I already
knew the answer.

“
The night you were on the beach.”

My insides quivered. “Because you saw him. It was Tucker’s dad like I thought all along, right?”

Slade ran a hand through his hair. “You swear to God on whatever means anything to you that you won’t say a thing.”

“
I swear.”

“
Yeah, it was.” He took a seat across from me, taking my hands in his. “I hit him. I wanted to kill him, but one punch was all it took to knock him off his feet. That’s when I picked you up and started carrying you away. But I knew if I took you home that things wouldn’t look good for me. But Tucker found his dad, and he saw me.”

I blinked back tears. “Tucker knew you didn’t do anything but he lied for his dad.” And the bruise on Mr. Sinclair’s face suddenly made sense.

“
Now do you understand why I don’t want you messing with that man?” He ran his hand across my arm, lingering on the black heart. “You’re messing with the wrong person, Hope.”

“
Yeah, but if you know that he is such a bad man why don’t you just do something to him? You’re more powerful than any police. You could cast a spell on him and make him confess to the police or something.” Then another thought struck me. “Anaya. Do you think he killed her too?”

Slade squeezed the bridge of his nose in agitation. “All that I know is that it wasn’t me. And then you come along and it almost plays out again.”

“
And if it wasn’t for you, I might not be here anymore. I might be…dead.” I stared off, a bit disturbed at the thought. What would my dad have done? He would have lost it if he ever lost me. And this made me sad and angry.

Slade slid out of the booth and offered his hand. I took it, letting him help me out.

“
I’ll show you my room,” he told me, walking me down the narrow path to a sleek wooden door.

“
I thought you guys all slept in those little cubby holes,” I said.

He shook his head, opening up the door to a small room. There was a black framed bed with dark red bedding with a small nightstand on each side. At the foot of the bed hung a plasma television above a black wooden dresser. It was neat and precise, and smelled just like him.

I watched him shut the blinds. He made sure the door was locked before climbing on top of the bedding and making himself comfortable.

“
This is your room,” I said, crossing my arms. I looked around the room for pictures. Sunglasses, money and his remote sat on one nightstand and the other housed a picture frame with two pictures: the first, a man and woman embracing. They were older. The woman had dark black hair, tan skin and a beaming smile. The man was a bit scruffy with hair to his shoulders. He was burly and muscular and had eyes just like Slade’s.

“
These are your parents?” I questioned, pretty sure that they were.

“
Yep. And that’s Erica and me,” he said, taking the picture frame in his hands.

“
That must mean they mean something to you if you keep them in a frame by your bed,” I said softly.

“
Something like that.” He patted the bed. I moved closer, not sitting like he wanted.

“
I’m sorry I upset you,” I whispered, afraid to say the words aloud. Worried they would upset me all over again.

Slade slid to the edge of the bed, tracing a finger down my shirt. He took hold of my shirt, pulling me closer. I watched his hands undo my Capri’s. The butterflies tickled away at my insides. But I let him continue.

“
I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he told me, pulling them down. I kicked them off of me, discovering I was in some sort of underwear he conjured up. He smirked at my discovery.

“
What’s with you and black and pink?” I asked, staring at the barely there panties.

I pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it at him. Slade smiled, pulling me close. He pulled down the strap on my bra, kissing my shoulder. Then did the same with the other, and in seconds, had it unsnapped and off.

I pressed into him, a little shocked to be topless. So in my mind, kissing him avoided this awkward moment. His kiss was slow, his lips lingering ever so softly against mine. I helped him out of his shirt, throwing it on the floor and pressing my chest against his, his skin warm against my flesh. His hand slid from my stomach to my chest where he rested his palm against my racing heart.

“
Relax,” he whispered, staring into my eyes.

“
I’m trying,” I said. But this was overwhelming. I didn’t know how to relax. And I think Slade sensed it. He laid one last kiss on my lips before he stopped everything.

“
I got to go on stage in about thirty minutes anyways.” He handed me my shirt and bra.

“
I’m sorry,” I said, apologizing.

Slade shot me a weird look. “You’re sorry for what? Being afraid to have sex with me?”

I blushed. “I’m not afraid. It’s just…”

“
It’s just too much for you. I get that. That’s why I don’t push the issue. Can’t blame me for trying, though. Look at you,” he teased.

“
It’s not that,” I said, trying to find a more sensible answer to give.

“
I don’t need an explanation. Forget about it. Touching you and kissing you is enough for now. One day you won’t be able to contain yourself anymore. And then when you do…” He pulled me by the legs to him, his hand traveling up to my inner thigh. “Then you can let me do all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you. The things you probably think about at night before you go to sleep.” He kissed my cheek, then my neck, his fingers slipping a little closer to my zipper.

“
Remember this,” he said, sending a current of pleasure through me, the same one he showed me when I found out he was a witch. I squeezed my knees together, pinning his arm in place.

Slade covered my mouth as I let out a loud moan. “My sister is asleep,” he cautioned, a big grin flooding his face.

“
Then maybe you shouldn’t do things like that,” I said, breathless. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I wanted more soon.

I
tossed an old tennis ball toward the water. Crawford lazily trotted after it. Sometimes I wondered why he even bothered. He was old and it was clear that he wasn’t amused by games of fetch anymore.

It was getting late and I was home. A couple days had gone right by, landing me on a Wednesday with nothing to do, once again. Homework was finished for the week. I missed school because at least someone there wanted to challenge me.

Dad and the boys were grilling hotdogs for dinner. He got off early and thought he would do the cooking for a change. And he also told us we all could use a little family time. So, there I was tossing a ball with Crawford and trying to humor my family.

The last time I saw Slade we had almost fooled around. I didn’t know what to call it really. It seemed obvious Slade wanted something from me that I wasn’t sure I was even capable of giving. Something he probably had way more experience in. I, on the other hand, was naive. And this made me feel inadequate. It made me feel childlike. I wondered if that mattered to him. And then I wondered what mattered at all to him. Did he like me? He never said so. But he never said that he didn’t, either. What was he after?

I took a seat in the sand, the water glistening, the fresh air wafting past my nose. The scent of ocean water put me at ease. It made me think about Georgia.

The birds flew high, squawking and soaring so careless in the sky, but they were so far away you couldn’t make out anything about them.

I couldn’t figure out what it was we were doing in California. The move proved absurd. We were no better off than we would have been anyplace else. The only difference between California and Georgia was my mother was not in California rubbing in her new relationship to my dad.