The Harder He Falls: 2 (So Inked) (27 page)

“Oh! I love calla lilies!” The girl rocked up on her toes and wobbled in stilettos.

Kellie wanted to take a step back, to put some space between her and the haze of alcohol, but there were more people behind them. “Those have a lot of white, but maybe we could do something with the stem or leaves covering the letters. I’d have to sketch something and try it out on you.”

“Okay.” The brunette looked at her expectantly, as if she was about to whip a full illustration desk out of her cooch and sketch something up.

“Um, well, if you want to come by the shop I can measure your wrist and we can go from there, but I don’t have anything with me right now to sketch for you other than a pen and a napkin.”

“Could you draw something?” the wannabe redhead said. “Grab a napkin, I have a pen.”

Kellie turned to Quin, the urge to smack the stupid grin off his face strong. In a matter of seconds the girls had moved the people next to them off the bar, dried the surface off and procured several napkins.

She sighed and snatched up the pen one of the girls offered. “I’m drawing one for free, after that it’s going to cost you in beer.”

If she was going to have to do this, she was damn well getting something out of it.

* * * * *

Quin sipped one of the beers provided by the girls and sucked in his cheeks to keep from laughing. Kellie was going to kill him, and he would love every minute of it. He could practically feel the steam rising off her. She was really fuckable when she was pissed. He’d have to remember that for later.

“I’m all drawn out. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to kick some ass.” She turned abruptly toward him, and if looks could kill he’d be writhing on the edge.

He backed away from the bar and her, though she kept coming.

“What the hell was that?” She pushed his chest.

He stumbled and bumped into someone. “Sorry,” he said over his shoulder. “Doll, chill.” His back hit one of the metal pillars supporting the balcony. She kept coming, so he grabbed her hips and pulled her against him.

She continued to glare at him. “Chill? I want to pull your testicles up through your mouth and tie them off with your dick.”

He winced. “Nice imagery. They were just excited about the tattoos.”

“Not just that.” She pushed and he let go.

“Okay, what did I do to piss you off this much?”

“One, I don’t want to work when I’m out. Two, we agreed we weren’t putting a name to this.” She gestured at the space between them.

That sobered him up. He set his beer down on a table, ignoring the people sitting there and put his focus on the most important person in the room. “I didn’t realize you were against relationships.”

“I told you I don’t have room for that right now.”

“The only reason this,” he mimicked her gesture, “is complicated is because you’re making it that way. For the first fucking time I actually want to be with someone for the hell of it. If that means working around your schedule and when you need to be with your grandma, then fine. I’m not asking you to do or be anything.”

She rocked back on her heels, her eyes fluttered open wide. Behind them the band struck up loud enough it rattled his teeth. He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the entrance.

Damp, warm air and cigarette smoke wrapped around them the second they stepped through the doors. Quin hauled her along, not wanting an audience for this conversation, but little groups of two and three people dotted the front of the building and alongside. They marched all the way to where his truck sat at the back of the cramped parking lot.

Kellie stopped with one hand on the side of the truck and pivoted to face him. The lights over the lot cast a soft glow on her face, and if it weren’t for the scowl firmly in place he would have kissed her.

“What the fuck are you saying?” she blurted out before he could get a word in edgewise.

He sputtered. How did he spell it out for this woman? “I-I like you. I like being around you. I like how you challenge me and don’t cut me any slack. I like you.” Maybe he was a coward for not saying what it was he suspected he really felt, but they’d barely known each other for a month. He wasn’t ready for more, and neither was she.

Her face went slack, her mouth gaping open. “I—”

“I know.” He held up a hand. “You don’t have the fucking time. I get it. It wasn’t exactly planned.”

“No.” She grabbed his arm, her brows drawn down and her eyes—he could read the confusion in them. She wasn’t a mystery. Her hand slid down to twine their fingers together. She glanced at their hands and back up at him. “I like you too.”

They stared at each other. He couldn’t decide if he should breathe or reach for her or what.

“This would be when you’re supposed to kiss me. If you’re wondering.”

“Oh, okay.”

He grabbed her around the waist and she gave a little hop and jumped into his arms. He hoisted her up and her legs went around his hips and her arms circled his neck. She kissed him with more than a little emotion. More than a simple
I like you
would warrant, and he more than liked it. Hell, he couldn’t even think the word.

She thrust her tongue into his mouth, her hands cupping his face and digging into his hair. He squeezed her closer, wanting to crawl into her body and stay there. He leaned her against the side of the truck and rocked his hips. Her thighs tightened around him and she gasped. He nipped her lip and dug a hand into her hair, loosening it from the pencil she’d shoved into it during her sketching session.

“Dude, get a room,” someone called from behind him.

He flipped them the bird, earning a chuckle from Kellie. Still, he wasn’t about to share her with the world. She might like the idea of being watched, but he would be the one watching. He turned and walked in the direction he hoped was the front of the truck. Only to bounce her hip off his truck and side-step into the car next to them.

“Ow! What are you doing?” The rumble of Kellie’s laughter vibrated against his chest.

He pushed to his feet and staggered the last few feet to the passenger side door. “Getting in the truck.”

She suckled his ear, swirling her tongue around the tidbit of flesh. He groaned and leaned her against the cab. She grunted and blew a breath of hot air over his neck.

“What are you trying to do? Break me?”

“You’d enjoy it. Grab my keys?”

Her lips curled up in a sensual smile. “As if I would let you break me. Which pocket?”

“Front left. Like you could stop me.” He kissed the hollow of her throat and up to the spot just below her ear.

Kellie hummed, or maybe it was a moan in disguise, he didn’t care. He liked the little noises she made, that she was as physical as he was and just as horny. She shoved her hand in his pocket.

“Wrong pocket.” He chuckled.

“Fuck, put me down.” Her legs dropped from around him and she slid to her feet. She dug her hand into the other pocket and caressed his dick through his jeans with her other. “This doesn’t change things, you know? Just because we like each other doesn’t make everything magically work out.”

He took the keys from her and clicked the unlock button. Instead of opening the door, he bracketed her shoulders with his hands and leaned against her, pushing her up against the side of the cab until he could feel the hard bead of her nipples through her shirt.

“It changes everything, doll.”

“Quin—”

“We make it work. Whatever that looks like for us, that’s how we do it. Ten minutes a day, one day a week.”

She gripped his shirt. As if the curtains had lifted, he could read the turmoil on her face, the struggle between what she wanted and what she had to do playing out over her features. Had he ever cared for someone like he cared for her?

She nodded, a tiny little dip of her head. Helpless was not an adjective he would have used to describe Kellie ever, but in that moment she looked lost. He’d catch her if she let him. He’d never done the emotions and sex stuff, but he’d try. For her. He brushed aside her bangs and kissed the lines marring her forehead.

“Hey, uh, Quin?” a very male voice interjected.

He glared over his shoulder at one of the guys. What the hell? How had they even known where he was? “What?”

“They, ah, asked Mouse to leave. Him and Ortega almost got into it inside.”

“Fuck.” He rested his forehead against Kellie’s. Sometimes these guys needed their mothers more than they needed a coach.

She chuckled and smoothed her hands down his side. “Looks like we aren’t going to do that.”

“You’re going to give me a case of blue balls.”

“Don’t blame that on me. I am more than willing to help.”

“Coach?”

“I’ll be there in a goddamned minute.”

Gravel crunched underfoot as the kid scurried back to the bar. Kellie glanced away, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. He was going to have to go babysit Mouse, who was probably three sheets to the wind already, instead of indulging in her sweet body.

“Come here.” Kellie grabbed the waistband of his jeans and tugged him to her.

These emotions were going to kill her. Kellie stared up at Quin’s baby blues and felt herself slipping more and more into something that would entangle them. The scary thing was that she wanted it.

“Quinton Berkus!” someone roared across the parking lot.

Quin’s head snapped up, scant millimeters from her face. She followed his narrowed gaze.

“Fuck,” he muttered, stepping in front of her.

“What the hell?” She pushed on his shoulder.

“It’s Greg.”

She scrambled to place the name. “The guy who you think has been trashing stuff?”

He jerked his head and stepped into the middle of the lane, hands on his hips. “What do you want, Greg?”

Greg Redding was a few years older than Quin if the silver glinting in his hair was any indication, but he didn’t appear to be a slouch either. He was a few inches shorter and a little wider through the shoulders. His arms were the bulky type that spoke of hours spent lifting weights.

“You motherfucker.” Greg stalked through the cars, a few men streaming behind him.

This wasn’t good. Kellie glanced from Greg to Quin and back to the mix of Quin’s fighters and other people she could only assume were connected to Greg.

“Quin, let’s get in the truck,” she said.

He dug his keys out and tossed them at her. She caught them and glared at his back.

“Quin—”

“I’m not running away from him. This fucker trashes my place and then wants to chase after me? Bring it.”

Greg strode through the final row of cars. Talking didn’t seem to be on his agenda. Her stomach rolled as Quin simply stood there. Greg pulled his arm back and things began moving too fast. She balled her hands into fists and sucked in a breath as Quin dodged and stepped past Greg.

The two men whirled around to face each other.

“You bastard,” Greg growled.

“You’ve said that before, but I promise you my parents were married. Try again,” Quin drawled, bringing his fists up.

Greg seemed to center himself, pulling his arms in a little and rocking forward and back on his feet.

The awful part of it was that she couldn’t even blame Quin for making this decision. If Kellie had known what Robert had planned to do not just to So Inked, but Pandora, she’d have taken a baseball bat to his face and felt no guilt.

And Quin giving Greg the death stare and dodging his ill-thrown punches was hot. A half ring of people formed around them, some cheering, others yelling insults and a few calling out common sense like “stop fighting”.

Quin stepped into Greg, punched him in the gut and followed it up with a left hook to the jaw. She winced along with the crowd as Greg stumbled back a step and threw a wild punch that landed on Quin’s shoulder. Round and round the two went, blocking and trying to peg the other with fists and elbows.

There was no contest between the two. Quin was sober and actually hitting the other man.

Red and blue lights blossomed at the road and the crowd began to scatter as two patrol cars screeched to a stop.

Lovely. Just what they needed.

Chrysanthemum—This fall bloom is representative of fullness, celebrating a long, happy life. It is often used in congratulatory messages, and is even a symbol of the Japanese imperial family.

“Hey, your phone is ringing.” Mary plucked Kellie’s phone from the cup holder and handed it to her.

It was a half hour past midnight and Kellie was too old for nighttime calls to be anything but bad. She glanced at the display and felt a tad bit better when it wasn’t Quin’s number. When she’d left the bar, the cops were letting him off without any charges. She juggled turning the music down and answering the call that was listed as Home while changing lanes. It was a talent well honed.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Kellie, it’s Cassandra.”

“Is something wrong?” Her stomach clenched and her vision narrowed to a few yards in front of her car.

“Oh no, it was just getting late and I need to head home.” Her tone was breezy, as if it was completely normal to leave patients unattended.

The speedometer crept down under sixty. Kellie shook her head and applied more pressure to the accelerator. “I’m sorry, did I misunderstand the scheduling? I thought you were supposed to be there until three.” Numbers clicked in her head. She paid good money, on time and sometimes even gave the nurses who cared for her grandmother presents she didn’t have to.

Cassandra popped her gum into the receiver. “Yeah, but I need to leave now. Your grandmother is sound asleep and won’t be going anywhere.”

“That’s not the point. I thought you were informed of her condition.” It was hard to keep the heat out of her voice.

“I read through it, and if you’re concerned about her nighttime wandering, I will ensure the door is locked behind me, but I really have to go, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay.” She slammed the palm of her hand against the steering wheel.

“You’re being unreasonable. I’ve been here all day, I’m tired and there’s no point in me staying. I will lock up and leave the keys in the rock where I’m supposed to.”

Red hazed her vision and Mary’s voice was a low hum she couldn’t understand over the roaring in her head. “I’m reporting your ass, you know that, right?”

“I’m doing nothing wrong and you’re being unreasonable.” Cassandra’s voice attained a shrill pitch that screamed
Liar!

“I hope you like being out of a job, bitch.”

Mary wrapped a hand around Kellie’s wrist. The speedometer was up over eighty.

“Whatever, I do not have to deal with this.”

On Cassandra’s end of the call, the phone clanged against the receiver before the call ended. Mary wrestled the phone out of Kellie’s hand. She could not afford to smash another expensive phone to bits in a fit of rage. Even Sam and Jacob in the backseat were silent.

“What’s happened?” Mary asked.

“It’s this new girl. She’s just leaving Grandma alone after I had this long talk with their director about the need to make sure someone was always with her. Argh, I’m so pissed. I’m calling Sonya in the morning and getting her lazy ass fired. God, this is stupid!”

“Do you want me to call someone?” Jacob offered, leaning forward between the front seats.

“No.” She turned onto Greenville Ave. The shop sign beckoned them. “I’m going straight home so it’s not like she’s going to be alone for more than a half hour, but still.”

“I know,
mija
.” Mary squeezed her arm.

Kellie pulled the Cube into the parking lot. After they’d closed the shop, Mary had moved her De Ville out front and now a Jetta idled beside it. Kellie hadn’t asked why Jacob’s fiancée had left the match, but at least she’d shown up to take him home.

“Thanks for the ride, Cho Hee.” Jacob looped an arm around her shoulders from behind and kissed the crown of her head. If she’d ever wanted a little brother, Jacob would be it.

“I’m going to want details later,” she said as he exited the Cube. She might not like his fiancée but she cared about him.

Jacob paused and sighed. “It’s not that interesting, but okay. Later.”

“Bye.”

“Call me and let me know everything is okay?” Mary pleaded.

Kellie took her proffered hand and squeezed it. “Yeah. Go get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to suck.”

Mary smiled. “Not as young as we used to be.”

“I’m not. You on the other hand?” It was a little-known fact that of the four girls, Kellie was the oldest and Mary the youngest. “Get out. Go do something.”

“Can’t. We have another meeting with Mr. Ricky tomorrow.” Mary rolled her eyes and popped her seat belt. A string of unflattering attributes flowed off her tongue, half of them in rapid-fire Spanish.

“Get Mr. Ricky some hemorrhoid cream and prune juice.”

Mary didn’t laugh. She pushed her door open stood, tweaking her skirt just so. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kellie sat and watched as Mary and Sam got into their car and waited for Jacob to pull out in his. There was too much going on and she couldn’t handle all of it. She’d have to trust Mary to talk to her in time, and Jacob would have to take care of himself.

She pulled out onto the street, settled her phone into the cradle and activated the hands-free settings.

“Call Quinton.”

The speakers beeped while the call connected. It barely rang once before Quin’s voice was filling the interior of the car.

“Hello?”

Just his voice relaxed her. “Hey, you left yet?”

“Yeah, I’m making the rounds and dropping everybody off. No charges, just a verbal slap on the wrist. I’m not pressing charges over a bar fight, even if I want to. What’s up?”

She blew out a breath. “That girl they sent over to watch Grandma tonight is leaving. I’m pissed, but at least I’m headed home now.”

“Where are you?” The immediate thread of concern in his voice was unexpected and new. It took her aback for a moment and drove home that this thing between them—it was serious.

“Just left the shop, sorry. Merging.” She flipped on her blinker and got back on the highway.

“It’s okay, take your time.”

“How drunk are your guys?”

“Plastered. We’ve stopped three times already.”

“Eww. I don’t want details.”

He laughed, the deep rumble washing over her. Everything would be okay. She wanted the chance to sleep next to him. To hold and be held without the constraint of time. She kept insisting that being together would complicate things, but so far the time she spent with him had been the easiest thing to do.

“Would it be weird if I asked you to come over for a little while?”

“Nope. I’m going to stop for some food, do you want anything?”

Her stomach rumbled. With the ever-changing schedule of the shop, mealtimes were whenever she was hungry. “Yeah, surprise me with something.”

Something dinged in the background. “Okay. I’ve got to roll these guys out of here and get them a trash can, then I’ll be over.”

Warmth unfurled in her chest and the muscles in her face ached from how big her smile had grown. “See you then.”

Quin sighed. “Got to go, I think Mouse just puked on the door. Shit.”

She ended the call on a shudder. Despite having taken over primary care for her grandmother years before, cleaning up bodily fluids was one of the hardest parts for her to grapple with. Her stomach rolled at the thought of mopping up another vomit incident.

The highway was practically deserted as she made her way home. She concentrated on the warmth she’d felt with Quin. A week ago she wouldn’t have believed he was capable of serious. Now she saw him for what he was, a man who had never allowed himself to care for another person. He could do responsibility and go through the motions of being with a woman and taking care of his child, but he didn’t know how to express how he cared.

She liked him. She more than liked him, but it was still too premature to see their relationship lasting into the sunset. Marriage and children and family had never been goals in her life the way her mother would have wanted them to be. Grandma had supported her though. She’d recognized Kellie’s independent spirit from a young age and never fettered her.

Maybe that was why Mom had left. If Kellie were honest with herself, she’d always loved her grandmother more than her mother. She and Grandma were cut from the same cloth and her mother had wanted her to be different. As a teen and young adult, Kellie had resented her mother for not accepting who she was. Now she lived with it, only because her mother was on the other side of the world with a family that fit her ideal.

Sometimes Kellie wondered what set off the traditionalist change in her mother. It was her mother, after all, who went after a well-to-do white man, fell in love, got married and had a child.

Kellie.

Her.

She had long since resigned herself to never understanding the change. What flipped the switch and made Mom the woman Kellie knew now. Maybe it was Dad’s death or the pressure from the community around them, but Mom had become this person. She’d even pressured a teenage Kellie into agreeing that taking on the Nahm surname was the best choice for her.

Otherwise she’d be Cho Hee “Kellie” Anderson.

Her street was the same quiet, welcoming picture. She breathed a sigh of relief when the front door was closed and no nightgown-clad women strolled around trying to rescue FernGully.

She’d check on Grandma and maybe change into something a little sexier. Quin couldn’t stay long, she needed to get some actual sleep, but she liked hanging out with him.

On her way to the front door, she knelt and picked up the rock that contained the hidden key she put out when a new nurse would be working. The regulars like Natalie had their own keys. The plastic rock wasn’t snapped shut and fell apart in her hands. Anyone could have walked past, seen it for what it was and gone inside the house.

Fuming all over again about the shortcomings of her latest nurse, Kellie jabbed the key into the lock and let herself in. The air conditioner hummed, muting smaller sounds and creating a bed of white noise. Mindful that Grandma was sleeping, Kellie put the rock on a shelf in the coat closet and tiptoed to her room to drop off her purse. The laundry still sat on her bed, waiting to be put away. If she could fit it into her budget to hire a maid every now and then, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

She kicked off her shoes and padded to the master suite in the back of the house. Between a lamp and a night-light, the room was always illuminated. Early on in the spiral into Alzheimer’s the lights had been necessary to cut down on Grandma’s confusion. Now they made it easier to peek in on her.

Maybe she would have time to shave her legs and slip into her green-and-yellow maxi dress. It felt good to want to dress up and to slick on some lotion. She’d been missing that part of herself over the last few months, and Quin had given that back to her.

She stuck her head into the bedroom and her gaze landed on the bed. The empty bed with its rumpled sheets and blankets. Goose bumps broke out along her arms and the hair on the back of her neck lifted.

“Cho Hee?”

She flipped on the lights and stepped into the room, darting a glance at the medicine cabinet that still sported a padlock. Nothing was out of place.

“Grandma?”

Nothing. Not a peep, a rustle of fabric or sound of movement.

This moment had played out in her mind so many times. Tears pricked the back of her eyes and her arms began to shake. She crossed the bedroom, her heart hammering and her world narrowed to one point.

Bare feet were over the threshold into the bathroom. Grandma lay facedown on the tile floor in her night dress with the little violets sprinkled on the white fabric.

“Grandma?”

Kellie’s heart stuttered painfully and she pitched forward, landing on her knees. Everything she’d learned and practiced for how to handle emergencies evaporated. She knelt next to the frail, tiny form of her grandmother, nervously patting her back as the first sob racked her body, shaking her. The tile amplified the incoherent words spilling from her.

This was it, the moment she’d been dreading. When her grandmother needed her most, she hadn’t been there. She cupped a hand over her mouth and sat down.

She needed to do things. There were steps she should take to check for a pulse, breath or blood, but she couldn’t convince her limbs to move. She sat there rocking back and forth, tears dripping off her chin and onto her chest.

Her phone vibrating between her and the tile barely broke through to her. She dug it out and put it on speaker.

“Hey, doll—”

“Quin—” Her voice broke and shattered into a million pieces.

“What’s wrong?” The cheer was gone, replaced with a man of action.

“It’s Grandma.” She put a hand to her mouth. She couldn’t say it.

“Doll, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it right now?”

“Twenty.”

“Have you called 9-1-1?”

It was the simplest action, the most basic thing to do in an emergency and it hadn’t yet occurred to her. Her voice was small when she answered with a simple “No.”