Marks on My Skin (Love & Ink #1) (36 page)

“Come on, Shayne.” I pressed harder and she gagged, then with a lurch, heaved the contents of her stomach on the sidewalk in a messy puddle that wreaked of liquor. She sniffled and whimpered, trying to push me away, but I did it once more. More liquid came out before she dry-heaved, unable to bring up anything else.

“Please…stop.” She pressed her face against my chest and my heart broke into a million pieces.

“Come on. We need ta get fluids in her. Let’s take her back ta the hotel.”

I shook my head. “My apartments closer.”

Liam nodded and I lifted her up, carefully getting into the cab. “Where’s yer place at?”

“I’ve got an apartment over in Greenwich Village.” I said, looking toward the driver. “A few blocks south of Washington Square Park.”

The driver nodded, and took off, taking us away from the gawking club-goers. I returned my attention to Shayne. Guilt welled in my chest. I couldn’t help feeling at least partially responsible for her. I’d left. She’d cared about me, and I’d left. Maybe I hadn’t called her the things Ian had, but my leaving had said enough.
I don’t care enough about you to stay. I don’t care enough about you to fight for this. You were just a fling. You were just the other woman.

Maybe I hadn’t spoken those words, but I may as well have.

The cab stopped in front of my building, pulling me back from my thoughts. I carried her upstairs. Neither me nor Liam said anything. Surely he was feeling his own guilt over everything tonight. Liam took my keys from me, opened the door to my apartment, and I carried her to the bedroom, laying her on the bed. Liam went to the kitchen to get her water and I looked her over. Her shirt was torn open down the front. Her skirt was still intact, but the remnants of her torn knickers hung around her thighs.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the heavy thud of my heart. The only comfort I had was that I’d gotten there when I did. The bastard hadn’t yet gotten a chance to penetrate her. From the quick glimpse I’d seen he wasn’t completely hard when I’d intruded. But if I’d been just a few minutes later…what then?

Tears brimmed my eyes. Pain and anger swelled together. Anger at them. Anger at myself. I glanced around my bedroom and grabbed a clean shirt and pajama pants off the corner of my bed. Hastily wiping at my face with my sleeve, I slid off her boots then her ruined knickers and her skirt. I didn’t want her to wake up and find herself like this. I slid the pajama pants up her smooth legs and traced the white rabbit on her thigh as my heart clenched in my chest. She’d gotten away from her past and I’d let her fall right back into that hole. Never once had Shayne tried to manipulate me, try to use me for her own selfish needs. But that morning when Kendall showed up, I’d left her there, like she was nothing.

Stray tears rolled down my chin, dripped onto the flannel material, and I pulled them up the rest of the way, covering her. She wasn’t mine to look at. I grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and dampened it. A lump swelled in my throat as I returned to her and wiped down her face, neck, and arms. She was limp against the bed and I took care taking off her torn shirt and replacing it with one of my white undershirts.

I traced the full curve of her bottom lip and my jaw tightened at the thought of those animals kissing her, forcing their tongues down her throat, or…
No.
Christ, I prayed they hadn’t done that. Anger and guilt surged up with renewed fears and a shudder ran through me unbidden.
No, they couldn’t have done that. I’d gotten there in time
, I tried to reassure myself. More tears escaped and I pulled the blanket over her then brushed her hair out of her face, wiping at my damp cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Shayne. Fer everything.”

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

In His Bed

I had strange dreams that night. One minute I was sitting on my grandmother’s couch. Six years old, dressed in pink corduroy overalls and a My Little Pony t-shirt. My mother came in the door with her suitcase, and seeing me, dropped it on the floor and ran to me, scooping me into her arms.

“I’ve missed you, peanut. Things are going to be so much better now.”
She whispered in my ear and I pressed my nose to her shoulder, breathing her in and closing my eyes. When I opened them, I was older, taller, a girl of fourteen. My mother was passed out on the threadbare living room carpet again. I knelt down beside her, plucked the still-burning cigarette from her fingers, and pulled her onto the equally threadbare couch.

I got up and walked out of the room and came out on a rooftop. Taller now, a young woman of eighteen. My feet stumbled atop patent leather stilettos. Tears ran down my face, and the lights of the city danced around like pixies in my blurred vision. Things were supposed to be better, but they weren’t. They were so much worse.

One unsteady step, then another and I was standing on the ledge. Wind rushed around me, and the cold air made me gasp. My heart raced and I closed my eyes, willing myself to let go.
Just let go and things will be better. Just let go.

“Don’t.” A deep voice said behind me. Startled, I nearly lost my footing, but large, muscular arms caught me around the waist and pulled me away from the ledge. We fell to the ground and he let out a grunt of pain. I blinked away the tears in my eyes and looked up to see Kieran’s blue eyes watching me.

No, I wasn’t dreaming any more.

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I blinked at him and lifted my head. The sudden onslaught of stabbing pain in my skull made me wince and drop my head back down onto the pillow.

“Careful.” He said in a soothing tone. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed a couple feet away. I had the urge to reach for his hand, but my arms felt like lead, sore and heavy.

“Where am I?” I asked. It didn’t look like the hotel room. It didn’t look familiar at all. The walls were a freshly-painted white that hurt my eyes and several half-emptied boxes sat in one corner.

“My apartment.”

I didn’t say anything, still trying to figure out how exactly I ended up in Kieran’s apartment, in his bed and in what appeared to be his clothes.

“Did we?”

His gaze widened and he answered with a swift. “No.”

I looked away, feeling embarrassed for asking, even more so by his sharp answer.

“I brought ya some headache medicine. Ya should take it. And drink all the water.” I looked back at him and he held out the pills and the glass for me. I managed to prop myself up on my elbows but it took effort. My abdomen ached like someone had used me as a punching bag, and my arms shook underneath my weight.

He watched me, his face expressionless if not for the troubled look in his eyes. I eased myself back down and tilted my head at him. “What’s wrong?”

Kieran hesitated, running his fingers through his hair, not meeting my eyes. “Do ya remember anythin’ from yesterday?” He asked.

I tried to think, to remember what I was doing. My thoughts were hazy and scattered but I remembered I was at the tattoo convention with Ian and Liam. I got a phone call.

“My mother died.”

My stomach twisted painfully at the memory of that phone call and I gripped my abdomen.

“Ya going ta be sick again?” He asked and I gave him an odd look.
Again? Had I been ill?

“No. I just…why can’t I remember anything?” I gritted my teeth and my head throbbed in sharp, pulsing aches.

“Because ya were drugged.”

“Drugged?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the pain, trying to wrap my head around what he just said.

“Ya and Ian had a fight, so ya went out fer a drink, then some arseholes must have slipped somethin’ in yer drink.”

More memories came back, still fuzzy around the edges, but I remembered the fight and what led to it—and Kieran. Sickness rose in my throat and I swallowed hard, squeezing my eyes shut. “You saw.”

“Yeah.” Kieran’s voice thickened and he cleared his throat. No wonder he’d been so quick to correct me in my assumptions of what had happened between us last night. If I had the strength I would have run from the room, but I could barely manage sitting up at the moment.

“I just wanted to forget.” I gasped. A tight pain swelled in my chest, and I couldn’t breath. “I just wanted to forget everything.”

I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to recall more. Ian had been furious. He’d kicked me out of the room and I went to a club. I drank and drank. Someone came over to talk to me but I couldn’t remember what they looked like. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my face with my hands, not wanting him to see me cry. The bed shifted, and Kieran’s arms came around me in a heartbeat.

“I know. It’s alright. Shh, it’s alright.”

“You said I was drugged…what happened?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the truth, but I needed to know.

“Liam and I were out lookin’ fer ya. Darren called us and told us about yer mom.” He paused, and his arms tightened around me, protective, as if I was still in harm’s way now. “They had ya in the bathroom when I got there. They were tryin’ ta get yer clothes off, but I didn’t let them get any further than that.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He’d stopped them? Kieran stroked my arm and I saw the scabs across his knuckles. “Thank you.” I said, gingerly tracing my fingertips over the reddened marks.

“Ya don’t need ta thank me. I’d never of stood by and let something like that happen ta ya, no matter what.”

I didn’t doubt that. Even if it hadn’t been me but another girl, Kieran would never let something like that happen. He was a good guy, it was as simple as that. It had nothing to do with any feelings he had toward me. If he’d had any lingering fondness for me, I’d destroyed that in the storage room of the pub. All too soon, he let go of me and I slouched back against the headboard. He stood, walking the length of the room and busied himself with various items hanging out of the boxes. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to put space between us. Right now, I didn’t want to be in the same room with myself.

“Liam will be back soon. He went ta fetch yer bags from the hotel. I should probably get packin’ myself.”

“Are you moving?

He let out a quiet laugh and glanced toward the boxes once more. “No. I’ve been here a couple months. I just never got around ta unpackin’ my things. It’s just me here.”

“Oh…What about Kendall…and the baby?”

“There wasn’t a baby. I divorced her.” He let out a wry laugh as he pulled a suitcase from the closet and tossed it on the foot of the bed. “Turned out ya were right about her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was an idjit ta believe her.” Kieran paused and his lips pulled into a hard line. He glanced up at me like he wanted to say something more, but quickly turned away and pulled clothing from the closet.

“So where are you going?” I changed the subject. I figured his ex-wife was something neither of us wanted to discuss.

“London. My book’s being re-released and my publisher is sendin’ me on a book tour.”

“Wow, London?”

“A film studio bought the rights ta it, they’re goin’ ta be makin’ it into a movie, so they want ta drum up more attention fer it.” He admitted.

“That’s amazing, Kier.” I said, then quickly corrected myself. “Kieran. That’s great, really.”

“Thanks.” The ghost of a smile crossed his lips and he shoved several shirts and jeans into his suitcase. “And here I thought the book was shite.”

“I told you it was really good.”

Kieran paused, looking up at me once more, that same brooding look that hid something more behind it. His forehead creased as he tried to form the words that were pulling at him.

“Shayne…”

A door shut in the other room, along with the sound of suitcases being placed on the floor. Liam came striding into the bedroom and Kieran busied himself with packing, turning away as Liam’s distraught gaze met mine.

“Does she know?” He asked Kieran. Kieran nodded, not looking in his brother’s direction. Liam slumped down on the bed next to my legs and reached for my hands. “I’m a feckin’ arsehole, Shayne. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I told him. “You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have said that shite ta ya, though. I’m sorry.”

“Liam, it’s fine. Really.” I gave his hand a squeeze and forced a smile to my lips. He smiled back, though guilt still lingered in his eyes.

“Kieran’s leavin’ fer London this afternoon, so he got us tickets back home since Ian was our ride out here. Ya feelin’ okay enough ta fly home?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I nodded, but decided that wasn’t the best idea, even if the headache medicine had dulled the pain.

“I put a clean towel in the bathroom fer ya if ya wanted to take a shower.” Kieran said and nodded to another door. I thanked him, then pulled myself out of the bed, my legs trembling beneath me. “Ya need help?” He asked.

“No. I’ll manage.”

Shutting the door behind me, I let out a slow breath and stared myself down in the mirror. I looked rough. There were dark circles under my eyes, my skin was a sickly pale shade, and my hair was dull and messy.
Right, just the way I wanted to look when I ran into Kieran.
With a sigh I took off his pajama pants and t-shirt, holding them to my nose for a moment. He was divorced now. I wished I could ask him what happened, but I didn’t have the right.
Did it have something to do with me?
No, that was stupid. Of course it didn’t.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

Parting Ways

Liam and I were packed and ready to leave when Shayne reemerged from the shower. Damp strands of hair clung to her face and she smelled like my shampoo. If only it was just me and her here and neither of us had anywhere to be, I’d have lifted her in my arms, marched her back into the bedroom and spent the next several days worshipping every inch of her. But she had her mother’s death to deal with, and I had to be in London. That and the whole fact that I was the jackarse that left her behind put a damper on those desires.

“Ready ta go?” I asked her. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, Chuck Taylor’s, and a gray t-shirt that hugged her chest.