No Going Back (27 page)

For example, I’ve told Seth I thought he should at least try to get to know his dad, but as soon as it’s mentioned he shuts it down. All I can do is hope that one day he will come around. I think we should all be giving some kind of second chance at redeeming ourselves. I’d like to think everyone has redeemable qualities.

Chapter Thirty-Four

*SETH*

This place is definitely a much needed escape from reality. It’s as if we are in another country. There are cobblestone roads and small shops tightly squeezed together. It’s one of the coolest places I have been to. Everyone is surprisingly friendly as well. Mallory and I have nothing but time on our hands, so we slowly make our way around town. Hopping on a trolley every now and then, not caring where it takes us. The one we are on now is supposedly taking us to the hotel where they do the haunted tour at.

“Hey babe, let’s channel our inner ghost buster and zap some ghouls.” I try to make a spooky ghost noise.

“No way. I’m not purposely going to go look for ghosts. Are you freaking crazy?” she asks, already knowing I am to an extent.

“Fine party-pooper. What do you want to do?” I pout and flash her my puppy dog eyes. It doesn’t work. She will not be swayed.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” She doesn’t even let me answer before she continues. “I’ve always wanted to take those old timey pictures. You know, the ones where I dress like a bar floosy from back in the day and you’re a dirty cowboy with a bottle in one hand and a gun in the other, yet somehow managing to still feel me up?” She says as she pulls me into
Ma & Pa’s Old Fashioned Pix.

I throw on the old ratty attire that the lady gives me. Country is the furthest from my style, but dammit, if Mallory wants to do this I’ll fucking suck it up. Plus, I’m anxious to see her breasts popping out of the top of her corset. I can only imagine the fishnet stockings she’ll be wearing as well. The bar area I’m told to go wait by resembles what you’d see on like the movie
Tombstone.
It’s got the whole old time wood feel. The background has a mirror and is lined with bottles up and down the sides of it. They even have a
Just Hitched
sign you’re able to pose with. I’m sure Mallory will be all about that. I can see it now. Me holding the sign while she points a gun at my head.

I go and lean against the bar area they have set up and wait for my wench to make her appearance. When she comes strutting in my fucking jaw drops. She looks hot, as if she was born to live in that era. Her dress is mainly black with a red corset. It has straps that hang on the edge of her shoulders. It’s as if it’s tapered…shorter in the front and gradually gets longer in the back. I can’t help the tour my eyes take, starting at her red fuck me heels, then slowly taking in her fishnets until I make my way to her fully on display breasts. Damn if they don’t look like they’re about to pop right over the edge. I’m sure her nipples are just right underneath the edge; a finger swipe and they’d be released. I have to tame these damn thoughts or I’ll be spreading her out on top of this bar. I’d like to see the pictures that scene would make. I’d frame those bitches all over my house. I’d more than proudly display that shit.

The shoot takes about fifteen minutes as they pose us in various ways. One with her sitting on the bar, legs spread and me to her side resting against her left leg. One with me down on one knee with her heel resting on my knee and me pulling off her garter. The one I predicted with the
Just Hitched
sign and then two others of us by ourselves — me resting against the bar on my elbow with a shot glass filled with fake liquor in the other hand and then Mallory resting over the bar from behind with her fully perched tits on display giving the camera a wicked grin.
Fucking hot!

We’re up at the register looking at the pictures we’ve just taken. I tell her the ones that I like, which is pretty much all of them.

“Babe, why don’t you just get them all? I’m going to go find a bathroom real quick.” I give her a kiss then start looking around for one. I go back to the area where they had us change clothes in search of the woman who helped Mallory. I finally spot her tying up the back of a heavyset redhead. Now I see the reasoning in the corset. It’s for the hefty people that can’t fit in the costumes. They just let their shit hang out in the back since it won’t be seen in the picture anyways.

“Ma’am?” I break out my mad skills that I rarely use. It’s not that I’m disrespectful; it’s just that I never really have a reason to use them. But this lady reminds me of a hardcore biker chick and I want to play it safe and not piss her off if I can. I have to test the waters out first.

She glances back at me before returning her attention to big bertha in front of her. “This is the women’s section son.”

I take a step closer. “Yeah I know. I was needing to ask you for a favor.” She finishes tying the woman’s dress.

“Alright, that’s as good as it gets hun. Make your way around the corner and have a seat until they call your name.” She pats her on the shoulder then turns to fully face me. She actually checks me out. She’s a good fifteen years older than me, but that doesn’t mean that momma doesn’t like what she sees. I try to use that a little bit to my advantage without it seeming like I’m hitting on her.

“Well, you see my wife and I just got married this weekend and you seem like you’d be able to help me out with a request I have.” She gives me a wicked smile.

“I’m listening.”

I make my way back up front as Mallory is paying for our pictures. I mosey right on up to her and wrap my arm around her shoulders. She sees the bag in my other hand and asks, “What’s that?”

I know I have a cheesy grin on my face. There’s no way that I couldn’t. “Oh, nothing. It’s just props.”

She raises a brow at me. “Oh, just props huh? Well, that sounds promising.” The smile on her face shows me that I’m busted and she knows exactly what is in the bag.

The sun is now starting to set as we continue shopping around like tourists. The buzzing of the tattoo gun instantly grabs my attention. I will never forget the first tattoo I got. Yes, the typical star on the elbow. It wasn’t so typical back then and it hurt like a son of a bitch. I remember leaving that day with a card in my hand from the tattoo artist. On the back it said ‘
Welcome to the Addiction.’
I initially thought
how dumb is that
? That there was no fucking way I’d be addicted to a fucking needle drilling into my skin. But here I am, ten years later, with twelve tattoos and have had a good seven piercings, not to mention my gauged ears. I’d have to agree; it is quite the addiction, and I’m not suffering from withdrawals.

“Hey, let’s go over here.” I pull on her arm as I look both ways for us to cross the street. “I’m itching to get another one.”

“I’ve always wanted another tattoo,” she says once she sees where I’m going. “I know exactly what I want and where too.” She looks up at me and smiles.

“Oh yeah? Are you going to turn into my little sexy inked wife…piercings and all?” I wink.

“Not tonight babe.” She lightly pats my cheek.

As I’m looking at the portfolio that was lying open on the table, Mallory is up at the counter, talking to the chick behind it. She’s about five foot three inches, short brown hair, and she’s double anchored with the studs on each side of her high cheek area and two Marilyn’s along with huge ass gauged ears. She’s tatted out all over too, but it looks good. I’ve never been with a chick that was, but it doesn’t mean I think they aren’t attractive.

She makes her way back over to me and takes a seat right up next to me. “Lacy is about to take me back to her booth for my tattoo. Are you wanting to get matching ones?” The way she asks makes me think she’s nervous to even bring it up. I think she automatically assumes that I’m going to think her idea is stupid and shoot her down.

“Well, what are we getting?” I wrap my arm around her and kiss the top of her head.

She lets out a sigh. “You’re going to think I’m dumb and it probably won’t go with your whole rock slash sex god image you have to maintain while you’re on stage, but personally I’ve always wanted a ring tattoo when I got married. I love this fucking gorgeous ass rock that is on my finger, but I want something underneath. Something that can never come off. I want the symbol of our love to be anchored into my soul. That’s why I’m getting a ring with an anchor on it.” The meaning behind what she’s wanting guts me to the core. She doesn’t want some dumbass flower tramp stamp or something that is highly popular and everyone else is doing. What she wants is beyond meaningful; it’s soulful.

“I’m in. I’d love to have that around my finger. The meaning behind it is amazing. It rings so true to how I feel about you…how I feel about us. To me, you are my anchor. You keep me grounded. You keep me safe. I know as long as you’re around, I will never get lost in the storm. My soul will forever be anchored to yours and I want the fucking world to know it.” I pull her in for a passion filled kiss right before the Lacy chick calls us back.

“You guys ready?” She isn’t from around here. She has some kind of accent that I can’t fully place. “How’s your piercing holding up?” She looks at Mal.

“Oh, it’s pretty fucking perfect. You were right. The pleasure factory was in full functional order. Well, except for in the oral department. I couldn’t stop squirming.”

Lacy laughs. “Yeah, from everyone I’ve talked to and personal experience, oral takes a few days to take in the full goodness. Not sure why.”

“Remind me to send you some concert tickets or something the next time we play near here. I need to show you my abso-fucking-lute gratitude for bedazzling my wife’s clit. It’s the fucking hottest thing ever. That is, if you’re gonna be sticking around here. Where are you from Lacy?” I ask as we follow her to the back of the shop. She stops at the second to last door and holds her arm out as if silently saying ‘
after you.’

“I’m from Florida. I moved here about a year ago…total culture shock.” She laughs. “So, what band are you in?”

“The Rifters,” I say.

“No fucking way. Hell yeah, I’d love to go to one of your shows.” She turns back around with gloved hands, “Alright, who am I doing first?”

“I’ll go first so I don’t puss out.” Mallory hops up in the seat and I sit in the chair that’s against the wall. Mallory’s tough, she’s doesn’t need me to hold her hand through a tiny tattoo. I take in the sound of the gun as I lean my head back against the wall. This will make my forth tattoo that I’ve gotten that that I will never regret. Wish I could say that about all my fucking tattoos. A few resulted in lost bets. But I’m a cocky ass and think I can always win. The shit you do when you’re young. Who am I kidding? I’d probably partake in the stupid shit nowadays as well.

“Your turn rockstar,” Lacy says while she sterilizes the area and gets all new needles and then switches out her gloves. I stand up as Mallory walks over to me and holds out her hand. I hold it by the fingertips to take in all the detail stuck into such a small piece of art. The anchor is wood looking with vintage type flowers around it and the band part of the ring is rope. It’s pretty freaking awesome.

“I love it,” I tell her before giving her a quick peck and taking my seat. I look up at Lacy. “Now don’t make mine all girlie. I have an image to keep.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

*MALLORY*

It’s now been five months since Seth and I got married. So far so good. Even living on the road with him is amazing. I’ve never been able to travel around the U.S. and see all these amazing places you only see on TV. But here I am now living the all-American dream. Well, living Seth’s dream and loving every minute of it.

I told Seth the only way I’d do this tour thing with him was if I could continue my schooling. I don’t want to give up on bettering myself just because I’m now married to a rock star. He had my back like no one ever has before in my life. He even told me that once this tour was completed he’d want me to take over as their manager so they could get rid of Roger.

“I don’t know if me being your manager is a good idea Seth.” He looks at me with a puzzled look.

“Why not? I think it’d be perfect.” He plops down beside me, taking a bite of his pizza.

“Isn’t there some unwritten law about mixing business with pleasure?”

He replies with a mouth full of pizza.

“I’m sure there is, but I want you to be our fucking manager because I trust you and you’ll do what’s best for this band. That is if you’d even want to be our manager. I’m sure the pay would be fuck-tabulous. Not to mention the employee benefits you’ll be getting hooked up with.” He winks. I kick his leg. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You know what that was for horny ass.” I sigh. “Fine, I’ll at least look into it to see what all I’d need to do to even qualify.”

“That’s my girl.” He leans in to kiss me.

My hand flies out to stop him. “You better finish that mouth full of food before you kiss me.” He opens his mouth full of food. “Gross you nasty ass. I swear you are just like a kid sometimes.”

“That just means I’ll be a fucking awesome dad one day.” He beams.

“You’d be a great dad anyways. Please tell me you won’t be sneaking our son beer when he’s fourteen and getting him high when he’s sixteen. There’s a difference between cool parent and stupid parent.” I give him the stare down.

He lifts his hands up in surrender. “Hey now, I’m a good boy. I don’t smoke weed…anymore.” He flashes me his lopsided panty dropping grin.

“So, speaking of kids and all. I’m late,” I say nonchalantly while returning my attention back to my laptop.

“Are you like the rabbit from Alice in Wonderland or something? What are you late for?” Men can be so flipping dense sometimes, I swear.

“God Seth. My period. It’s late. I haven’t had one in like a month.” I toss the mini throw pillow at his face but he catches it.

He slowly pulls the pillow down taking in what I had just said. Once it hits him he grabs my hand and pulls me up with him, not even saying a word.