Permanent (Indelibly Marked) (Volume 1) (11 page)

Not only was he cute, he treated her like a princess. Every day she entered the shop as if it were her last. Soon, when his checkbook was balanced and his audit was over, she wouldn’t be needed and they would fade away. It wouldn’t be the first time. She fought that all too familiar tickle in her nose and sting in her eye, refusing to cry. No matter what, she had to stop relying on him. She needed to prepare for the inevitable and keep the promise to her father that she could make it on her own.

The honk of a horn jolted her into the present, and only then did she realize traffic was at a dead stand still. She didn’t have much time to get back to Hollywood.

Her heart seized. She had to make it back in time for the magazine shoot. She leaned, scanned the ocean of cars and the big buildings that told her she was heading toward downtown Los Angeles.

“This is fixable.” She inhaled and exhaled. All she needed to do was get off the freeway. She merged, taking it inch by inch, foot by foot toward the nearest exit marked East Los Angeles. “That’s not downtown.” For a moment she cheered at abiding by one of Shane’s rules, but when she turned onto a city street, she knew she’d made a mistake. A bad one.

By now she was used to Hollywood with its mix of buildings and architectural styles. Brand new structures stood side by side with older ones, creating a wonderful patchwork that graced the whole city. A drive down one street would put you in front of landmarks, another street would take you by well-loved theatres, and yet another to a colorful tattoo shop. Even Beverly Hills boasted an amazing swizzle stick of styles with that touch of magic and money that made everyone one want to live there. However, nothing, not Hollywood’s patchwork or Orange County’s bland repetition, prepared her for East Los Angeles.

She drove among dilapidated buildings with chain link and barb wire fences surrounding them and bars on the windows. Graffiti littered the walls, and only a few people dared roam the streets. Nothing seemed vaguely familiar. On instinct, she grabbed her phone.

As fast as she picked it up, she threw the phone aside. She couldn’t call Shane after she just promised herself not to rely on him. “I just got off the freeway. All I have to do is get back on.” Where there was an exit, there should be an entrance.

She turned around and went under the freeway.

No entrance. Not even a sign.

She slowed and searched for the on-ramp and another car sped up behind her and slammed on its horn, forcing her to accelerate and go through a light, which led her onto a one-way street and around a curve.

Now she was lost. So far the drive had taken over three hours and it was after six.

Dread wound its way around her, tightening around her throat like the red tape the IRS liked to put its victims through, and she needed the bathroom.

Out of the side window a group of men congregated on the corner. Two of them pointed toward her car. She accelerated down the street and reached for her phone.

Twice she put the phone down, willing herself to make it through, but at last she dialed.

“Hello!”

She narrowed her eyes when men’s cheers and strange music boomed through her headset. “Rick?”

“I’m entertaining our new account. We closed it.” He laughed. “Well, I did. Hold on.”

She strained to listen to his muffled tones, and swore he said something about a dance and drinks.

“You didn’t go back to work did you?” He returned to the phone.

“No, I’m stuck in traffic and—”

“That sucks, I got to go. You’ll be in before me tomorrow. Tell Mr. Sebastian everything is perfect. Bye.”

The phone went silent as the next turn landed her in a dead end. “Okay.” Deep down she knew it would come to this. She lowered her head in defeat and pressed the speed dial that the person she wasn’t supposed to depend on had programmed for her.

“It better be you, because if it’s not you then anyone who isn’t you better hang up right now because I’m waiting for your call.”

His voice fell on her like a warm blanket made of cozy blue-black flannel. “Shane.” Even after the promise to herself, her first thought was that she hoped she was the person he waited for.

“Lindsay.” Shane yelled.

“Yes.” She winced at his tone.

“Geez, where are you?”

She decided to go with the truth. “I really don’t know.”

“What? Where are you?”

“I’m not at the shop.” She thought he should know that little detail.

“Oh really?”

She heard Shane hitting something and she knew he put her on speaker.

“Linds, where art thou.” A different voice came through.

“Carson?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t know. I’m not at the shop.”

“She’s not here,” Carson paraphrased for her.

“I’m glad we cleared that up.” Shane exhaled. “I thought we really had a chance with the whole medieval speak thing.”

“It was a shot.”

“Lindsay?” Once more, Shane took over.

“Yes.”

“Would you mind telling me where you might be when you are supposed to be here?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No I wouldn’t mind telling you where I might be when I’m supposed to be there.”

“Okay, go for it.”

“Uh … Shane.” She cleared her throat.

“Yes, I am listening with bated breath.”

“I don’t know where I am.” All the emotion of the drive came out once she said the words and the tears she’d held back started.

“Dude, she’s crying,” Carson whispered.

“Lindsay, what’s going on?” Shane went back to yelling.

“The freeway was backed up.” She sniffed. “I got off.”

“All right, then what?”

“You told me not to go downtown, so I didn’t.” Right now it seemed important he knew she followed his rules. Well, most of them.

“Good, so where are you?”

“I got off in East Los Angeles.”

Shane didn’t say a word and she started shaking.

“Shane?” Carson spoke first.

“I’m thinking,” Shane growled.

At the anger in his tone the tears flowed. He didn’t need her calling for help when he had business to deal with, and he wouldn’t need her after she fixed his finances. “Go do your magazine thing, I’ll be there soon.”

“Lindsay.” His voice vibrated through her skull. “Don’t even think of hanging this phone up. What are you doing right now?”

“Driving around a block over and over again.” She turned the corner. “I’m running out of gas, and I really have to go to the bathroom.”

“Look up and tell me any sign you see.”

“I can’t.”

“Why!”

“Because it’s not in English.” The tears turned into a sob. “I knew I should have studied Spanish.”

“Calm down, baby.”

Her heart fluttered at the word and the way his voice softened, but she wasn’t sure if she heard him right.

 “We just need to figure out where you are. Take a breath. Please don’t cry.” He spoke slowly, pausing between each word.

At a stop light a man crossed the street and approached her car with a towel and a squirt bottle. “Shane.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s washing my windshield with a dirty rag.” She sat up, pressing one foot into the floorboard.

“Lindsay, listen to me, motion for the guy to go away and drive straight until you see any sign.”

Focusing on Shane’s voice, she waved to the man and drove away. “Um.”

“What language do we have?”

“I found a sign in English.”

“There we go, just tell me where you are.”

“I’m at a corner that has a store that sells adult videos and a liquor store.”

“I think I’m going to have a seizure,” he whispered.

“There’s also a Gentleman’s Club.”

“Which one?” Carson and Shane both yelled into the phone at the same time.

She glared.

“Linds?” Shane called.

“Yes?”

“Tell me the cross streets.”

At last she located a graffiti-free street sign.

“Okay, do exactly as I tell you and don’t stop the car, we’re coming to get you.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“We’ll meet in the middle.”

“But the magazine.”

“Won’t be here for hours and do you really think I could concentrate with you in the middle of God knows where?” He paused. “Lindsay, seriously.”

There was the moment.

Did it always happen this way?

A precise second, a defining event, a perfect pinpoint marking the instant she knew she wanted Shane Thomas Elliott. Who was she kidding? She wanted him before, how could she not? Only this was the first time she admitted it to herself, and with her realization her stomach turned to a pool of black tattoo ink, warming her and making her a little sick at the same time.

The ledger in her mind opened up, and no matter which way she did the calculations, they all added up to her in shambles. “You don’t have to do this.”

“That’s what you think. Now turn around and go straight until you see Third Street.” He directed her. “You’re going to be looking for a place called Tiger Tattoo, okay?”

Somehow, with only sketchy details of her location, Shane guided her out of wherever she managed to get lost. “I’m heading into downtown.”

“I know.”

“You told me not to go downtown.”

“I told you not to go downtown without me.”

“Well.”

“Thankfully when you turn left at the next light, I’ll be right there. The shop is on the right hand side, it’s the orange and black building.”

When she rounded the corner, a rainbow of colors overwhelmed her. The orange and black building painted to resemble tiger stripes served as the backdrop for Shane’s bright yellow El Camino, a beacon through the maze of gray, unfriendly buildings. Shane had found her.

An entire entourage, including a few people she didn’t know had joined in her search party, but she could only focus on Shane as he guided her into the driveway and sprinted to her car.

She barely threw the transmission in park before Shane opened the door and practically got inside with her. Though she wanted to protest, or tell him he was making too big of a thing out of it, her body disobeyed and she wrapped her arms around his neck. This time she denied herself nothing and purposely leaned in and took a big long whiff of his soap. She was done for. “Oh God.”

“We’re never going to do that to Shane again, are we?” He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek, grazing the corner of her mouth.

She didn’t realize she’d held her breath until her lungs demanded air and she gasped and grabbed Shane’s leg. When her hand grazed across his jeans, she swore she’d never felt anything quite so supple and pliable, a well-worn fine nap not unlike the most expensive velvet beneath her fingertips. Beneath his jeans she could clearly make out the definition of his toned thigh. The contrast of textures overloaded her senses.

“Did you know the 5 freeway and the Golden State freeway are the same?”

He chuckled but didn’t move away from her. In fact, his dark blue eyes stared so intently that she studied his arm tattoos. One thing about Shane was that every part of him was interesting to look at.

“Why were you on the 5?”

“I was trying to get back from Orange County.” She admitted it like she’d committed a felony, and stared at his forearm. His smooth skin gave him the perfect showcase to display his personal artwork. Without really thinking, she touched his arm and used her nail to trace one of the leafy vines that trailed and curled around his forearm. “I’m sorry, it was for work.”

“What did you think of it?”

“I thought it was very repetitive.” She took in a black panther’s paw. The tattoos were all part of him and her mouth dried, causing her voice to sound strained. “Why was Orange County off limits?” Her finger made it around the back of the panther, and then almost as if she awakened from her trance, she stopped.

Shane put his hand over hers. “Finish.”

“Why didn’t you want me to go to Orange County?” She looked up at his face, his focus clearly on her hand and she allowed her finger to resume its trek.

“I didn’t want you to like it there.”

Her hand made it back to where it started and she shook her head. “Everything there was too much the same.”

“It’s good to like things that are a little less conventional.” His voice lowered.

She licked her lips to impart any moisture she could into her arid mouth. With Shane in her car in front of a tattoo shop in downtown Los Angeles, she doubted her problem was being conventional. Her problem was that she didn’t have the data to deal with the unconventional.

Chapter Nine

“Your butt looks amazing.” Ivan yelled to her from Shane’s apartment.

The screen door slammed and Lindsay put her hand over her backside, stopping before running down the stairs and facing him. Normally Shane slept in on Sunday mornings and she wanted a clean getaway. Not that she didn’t want to see him, but she needed to think and whenever Shane was in her vicinity, her mind took a vacation.

Ever since the day Shane found her downtown, she’d turned into a one woman disaster. She could barely speak around him anymore. “Hi.”

Ivan sauntered over to the door, opening the screen. “It would have been a sin not to say something.”

Not sure if she should thank him for the compliment, she remained silent.

“What would be a sin not to mention?” Shane came to the door, rubbing his hand through his hair and pulling a t-shirt over his head.

She covered her mouth when she got her first glimpse of the dragon on Shane’s stomach, but that wasn’t what really caught her eye, it was his absolutely flat stomach and well-defined, smooth chest. He was either too fast or she was too distracted for her to make out what drawing graced his chest.

“Lindsay’s butt.” Ivan pointed.

Shane let his gaze travel up and down her form. “Lindsay’s front isn’t so bad either.”

For the last two days, Shane had been saying those kind of things, causing him to smile and her to blush, which she did. She needed a day to herself. Something normal.

“All right see you later.” Knowing they’d wait for her to turn around, she backed up and tripped when her back hit the banister.