My Misery Muse
Authors: Brei Betzold
My Misery Muse
By
Brei Betzold
My Misery Muse
Copyright © 2013 by Brei Betzold
Published January 8, 2013
Publisher Brei Betzold
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
All rights reserved. This edition is copywritten by Brei Betzold and any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. January 2013.
Edited by Tanya Keetch
Cover photo ©
Istockphoto.com
Cover Design by Sarah Hansen
Table of Contents
“God I hate the women at that school,” I huffed as I walked to my station slamming down my keys and bag before turning to my best friend and boss Crispin.
“If you hate them so much then why do you send him there?” Crispin didn’t bother looking up from the sketch he was working on, this was a frequent conversation.
“You know why,“ I said. “It’s the best daycare in the area that I can afford. It’s not the teachers I dislike just the other moms who look at me like I’m a cockroach.”
Crispin glanced up from his sketch then and I instantly knew the look and what he was going to say.
“
No one can make you feel inferior without your consent,
” he said the same time I did, he looked at me and smirked. Then said, “If it’s really that bad Dev, why don’t you pull Jaks out of the school, he can hang out here at the shop while you work until you can find a new daycare?”
“Cris, I appreciate the offer but you and I both know we can’t have a two year old running around a tattoo parlor. I’ll just deal with the women like I always do ignore them and mutter curses that their plastic tits spring a leak.”
With my mini tirade done for the morning, I went to work getting my station set up for my first appointment of the day. It was still early when I was done so I decided to go next door to grab a cup of coffee for myself and Cris. I loved working the day shift at the shop more than I ever expected to. Up until I found out I was pregnant, I always insisted on working nights, it’s when most of the action is and when we are the busiest. I found though that working during the day, I have more time to put into my sketches. I also get a lot more one of the kind work. Doing the same flash over and over gets a little tedious after a while. I always try to change the flash up in some unique way for each client but it’s still more meaningful to have someone trust me enough to ink my own artwork into their body.
I walk into the café next door and am instantly greeted with the smell of fresh brewed coffee, I inhale deeply and briefly close my eyes, nothing is better than coffee from Joe’s Café. I walk up and order Cris and my typical coffees, a mocha latte for him and a honey latte for me. While I’m waiting for our drinks I glance around the café, some of the people I recognize from the area, others are college kids hanging around for the summer. I pay and take our drinks when I happen to glance in the corner and almost drop the coffee. Sitting in the corner is the last person I ever expected to see again, Seth. Damn, he looked as gorgeous as ever. I knew when standing, he topped off at 6’2, he had wide shoulders that tapered down to lean hips, his muscles were well defined but sinewy like a swimmer. His dark hair was shaggy and mussed as ever and those eyes, the eyes that have haunted me for over 2 years are the color of spring grass after a rain. He had lips that were made for sin, full, lush and I can still remember biting them and the lip ring I enjoyed playing with. His nose had the hump in the middle from when my brother had broken it years before, and cheekbones most women would kill for, which were currently covered in a day or two’s worth of stubble. I could still picture how his eyes darken when he’s angry or turned on; I can still remember his scent, which was all Seth, spicy and completely masculine. He was dressed as he’d always dressed. Vintage rock t-shirt that clung to his chest, worn 501’s that molded to his ass and thighs perfectly, black work boots, his labret glinting in the light and tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. That man could do things to me, to my body that would light me up like a firecracker, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him again.
I’m not sure if he saw me or not and I have no intention of finding out, I hurry to the door open it and almost run back to the tattoo shop slamming the door on my way in. I rushed in and thrust Cris’s latte at him and hightail it to the back of the shop, into the room where we keep all of our equipment and shut the door. I have to sit down and put my head between my legs, trying to keep myself from passing out. I hear the door open and glance up to see Cris standing there with a concerned look on his face.
“Dev what’s the matter, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” says Cris.
With that, I start laughing because it’s better than crying.
¯¯¯
I saw her walk into the café and wasn’t sure what to do. God, she looked beautiful, but then again she always had. She’d changed her hair again, this time it was a pixie style cut and spiked, dyed black with purple streaks. It also seems she’d added to both her ink and piercings since the last time I’d seen her, but I would know her anywhere. She still had a body that with just a glance made me hard. She stood maybe 5’5 flat footed, her small perky breasts were gorgeous with rose colored nipples, hips that slightly swelled out from her waist, and legs that have always looked amazing in her favorite fishnet stockings. Her face stopped me as usual, she looked such like a pixie, and her small soft features, the lush lower lip she bit when nervous, her gorgeous large anime style cerulean blue eyes. She looked soft and vulnerable but I knew better, she had been strong and self-sufficient for as long as I knew her. She had to be, it’s not like she was ever good enough for her parents and they reminded her of that daily. She was as usual, dressed in clothing completely unique to Devi, a tight white ribbed tank top covering her curves and ended just above her belly button, a sexy ring in her belly button that the overhead light glinted off of. The tight black pants that molded to her ass and tied in the front rode low on her hips showing a tantalizing amount skin and her trade mark air brushed combat boots. God, I had missed her and was it fate’s cruel joke for her to walk into this café the first day I came back home? When she turned around and saw me she went even paler than her normal porcelain skin, I was worried she was going to faint, but no not my Devi, she would never show a weakness. I was just about to get up and say hi when she hightailed it out of the café like the hounds of hell were after her, and for all I know they were.
I got up and walked to the barista and asked, “Hey that woman that was just here, does she come here often?”
