Leaving His Mark Read online

  Leaving His Mark

  T.a. McKay

  Leaving His Mark

  Copyright © T.a. McKay, 2015

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover art by K23 Photography and Design~ http://www.k23photo.com

  Formatting by: T.a. McKay

  Editing by T.a. McKay and Ellie from The Cosy Reader Author services

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or used factiously and any resemblance to actual people, dead or alive, business, establishments, locales or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, businesses or organizations is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity.

  All right reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.

  Pirating an author’s work is a crime and will be treated as such.

  Copyright holders:

  Archer Brooks is a fictional character from the book Until You’re Mine by K. Langston. I hold no rights to this character and have permission from the author to use his name and description.

  Buying links for Until You’re Mine

  UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00JI34U0G

  US: http://amzn.com/B00JI34U0G

  Dedication

  To Ellie and Laura

  Between both you girls this book became what it is now. Late night panics, plot changes and reading the same part over and over. You both did this without complaint and that's when I knew I was surrounded by amazing supporters.

  Thank you

  Prologue

  “Get in here boy!” I cower in the corner, desperately trying to blend in with the wallpaper behind me and praying he won’t see me.

  “Gabe, move your fucking arse and get in here. Do not make me come look for you.” My mum pushes me further into the corner and kisses my forehead gently. She pushes the hair from my forehead and whispers softly.

  “No matter what happens stay here, do not come out for anything.” She smiles at me with love on her face but it quickly disappears as her hands fly up to her hair.

  “There you are. Are you trying to hide him from me again? Why can’t you just mind your own goddamn business?” I can see tears in her eyes as she’s dragged backwards by her hair. I can see her trying hard not to cry, trying to keep her face relaxed and calm for me.

  “Mum!” I know I should stay where I am, I'm not big enough to help her, he’s told me that often enough but I can’t sit here and watch it happen again. I rush from the corner and try to grab my dad. Laughing he pushes me back and I land with a thump on the floor. I watch as he drags my mum further across the bedroom, her legs kicking out franticly. I know I need to do something but I can’t make myself move, it hurt when he pushed me and I don’t want to hurt again. I see him raise his fist and I know what’s going to happen, I know I need to do something to stop him but I'm not quick enough. I’m still scrambling to my feet when I hear the first hit connect with her. My eyes flash up and see blood flowing from the cut on her lip but it doesn’t stop him and he draws his hand back again. I run as fast as I can and grab onto his body from behind, trying to pull him off her. His hand lashes down on her face, the sickening thud accompanying the sight of the blood exploding from her nose. I start to punch him wherever I can, I need to stop him, I can’t watch him do this too her anymore. Too many years I’ve lived in fear, treading lightly around my dad in case he decided to take his temper out on me. I haven’t felt safe for one single day of the fourteen years I’ve been on this earth and it needs to stop. I don’t know why he hates me but I'm sick of my mum being punished for protecting me.

  I continue to pound on him, using all the strength I have but his hands never stop hitting her. I hear her screaming for me to stop, to run as fast as I can but I don’t. I want to be the type of man that can protect her, I wish I were bigger, taller, stronger, anything so I can stop this forever. He must get sick of my attempts to distract him and he lets go of my mum’s hair. As she collapses to the carpet he turns to me with anger in his eyes.

  “You think you’re man enough to fight me? You want to protect your worthless mother?” I can hear the laughter in his voice as he moves slowly towards me. As brave as I'm trying to be, I can’t help back away from his towering form. I’m tall for my age but he’s taller, wider, stronger. I don’t have the strength to win this fight.

  “You stupid boy, this is all your fault. She’s trying to protect you. If you had just come when I shouted then she wouldn’t be taking the beating that’s meant for you.” I feel my throat tighten and my eyes burn with unshed tears. He always tells me it’s my fault, that I’m to blame for it all and no matter how much I tell myself I'm not, I still feel like it is.

  “Leave him alone, David. He’s just a boy.” My mum grabs his leg and tries to take his focus away from me but it’s not going to work today. He has his sights firmly on me and nothing will save me. He kicks his leg out hitting my mum in the face with a sickening crunch and she crumbles to the ground. Without even a second look he turns back to me, moving closer to my smaller body. I try to run but a large fist connects to the side of my head, knocking me across the floor almost to the other side of the room. I lie there dazed, coloured lights flickering in my sight. I can’t stop the tears that flow even though I know they’ll make him even angrier. I have never felt pain like this and I just want to go to sleep and make it stop. My vision is still blurry but I feel his hand grab my top and pull me to my feet.

  “Come on big man, show me what you’re planning on doing. I thought you wanted to fight? Don’t just stand there and cry like a little fucking bitch. I’ve been waiting years for you to finally fight back, to let me beat you like I’ve always wanted to.” I'm finding focusing difficult and something warm is running down the side of my face from my ear. I try to hit out, to finally use my fists against him but it’s useless. Another punch comes from the side and I fall again, this time I connect with the wall. My head cracks off the plasterboard, I see a blackness making its way into the corner of my vision and I can’t hear properly. It sounds like when I go swimming and I get water in my ears so I don’t notice the shouting until I'm grabbed again, pulled up to my dad’s face. I can make out his lips moving but I can’t hear the hate he’s shouting at me and I’m thankful.

  He starts shaking my body and I hang there like a ragdoll, no energy left in me to fight back. This angers him further and he shakes harder, making my head painfully whip back and forth. My vision is nearly gone and I can’t feel the pain in my body anymore. I smile knowing that it will all stop soon. All the fear, all the pain will end. I feel my body fly through the air and I find out I'm wrong. When my body hits the wall I can feel the pain lancing through my body as I shatter against the unmoving hardness.

  Chapter One

  I wipe the wet paper towel over the tattoo I’ve just finished, removing the excess ink. I take a final look to make sure I’m happy with the piece. It’s a little infinity symbol with a padlock looped around it. It’s not the most original work I’ve ever done, but you have to give the client what they want.

  “Go and have a look, make sure you like it.” I move my hands from her hip letting her stand up and I watch as she moves to the mirror to take a look. I roll my neck as I remove my gloves and throw them into the bin next to my station. This is my second client of the day and it’s not even lunchtime yet, these smaller tattoos take no time to get done so it feels like a never-ending stream of people. At least this afternoon I’m going to be working on Tony’s back piece, it’s a huge tattoo and this is his third
visit so we are hoping to get it finished today. I’ve enjoyed working on such big piece again, it’s not often I get such intricate work. My shop ‘Virgin Ink’ is getting more of the ‘pretty’ people in for work these days so I seem to spend my days doing Chinese symbols or names, it pays the bills but there is no art or skill in doing them.

  The girl, I’m sure she told me her name but I can't remember it now, walks back over to me with a huge smile on her face.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s amazing. I love it so much.” She has a high-pitched voice that after the first twenty minutes started to get on my nerves. It’s one of those fake voices that girls think men want to hear, add to that a head tilt and she is the perfect example of man pleaser. I’m brought back to reality when she starts to jump up and down on the spot and claps her hands. I try not to roll my eyes but I can feel the urge so deeply.

  “Ok, if you come back over here I’ll apply a dressing.” She sways her hips as she walks back over, trying to look seductive but she’s working the wrong guy. I don’t have the time or energy for this type of girl, she is just too… I don’t know. Perky? These girls are trying to prove they are edgy by bedding the bad boy. Why is it every clean-cut girl wants to get her hands on a tattooed guy? Is it to make mummy and daddy angry to prove a point?

  I pick up the cling film and rip a bit off, getting it ready to tape to her hip. I don't know why I bother, I know as soon as she leaves here she will remove it to show her friends. She cocks her hip towards me and holds her top up, much higher than needed.

  “So, you don't talk much do you?” Here we go, I knew it wouldn’t be long until it happened.

  “No.” My answer causes her to giggle. Why? I place the cling over her tattoo and apply the first bit of tape across the top, trying to work quickly to get her out of here.

  “You’re so funny. So what does a guy like you do for fun?” A guy like me? Like I’m some unique creature that doesn't follow the normal rules. I really need to get rid of her, I'm not in the mood today and I don't want to start trouble. Even though I own the tattoo shop, I still need to be careful about upsetting the customers. I place the last bit of tape on the covering and turn away from her.

  “If you go see Rhys at the front desk, she will take your payment from you.” I wonder if she will just walk away, I hope she does. Thank God for Rhys, she works as a buffer for the customers I don’t have the patience for. Normally I would walk whoever I had worked on out but today, not a chance.

  Little Miss Daddy Issues giggles before touching my arm, obviously trying to entice me, but she is so far off the mark. I turn away, hoping she’ll take the hint. As I mentioned before, I'm so not in the mood today. My head is aching and Paul is late again. His attitude stinks, but he’s great with a tattoo gun. The work he does shows skill and his client base is growing quickly, I would say he's as good as me but he isn’t. I busy myself cleaning my station as I hear her footsteps retreat from the room. Thank fuck. While washing down the bed for Tony’s appointment I hear the back door slam open. Paul’s arrived then.

  I hear him talking to Rhys at the front desk and I get pissed off. Apparently he’s not in a rush to get started. I know that he has to walk past the reception desk to get in here from the staff entrance but he could still hurry it up a bit.

  “You’re late.” I shout towards the reception area knowing that he’ll hear me through the open door. He appears through the doorway with a huge smile on his face.

  “Gabe, my man. How’s it hanging today?” I can’t even look at him so I look past him at Rhys. She’s standing behind the reception desk trying not to laugh. She knows how pissed off I get with Paul’s attitude to his job. If he weren’t as good as he is I would’ve let him go a long time ago.

  “I said you're late.” I can’t keep the pissed off tone out of my voice, this guy is really pushing me to my limits.

  “I'm like an hour late, boss man. Are you gonna get pissy over a lousy hour?” I calmly turn in my seat and look at him. I'm not a violent person, I try to solve all my problems without my fist. It’s not that I can't take care of myself, I'm a big guy, if trouble finds me I'm able to fight my corner. I just choose not to fight, but in this moment the only thing flashing through my mind is the image of my fist connecting with Paul’s face. I stand and walk over to him, stopping barely an inch from him.

  “Let’s get one thing clear. I’m the boss, you do what the fuck I tell you. You don't like it, take your shit and leave. Your shift starts at ten, you will be here ten minutes early from now on.” He moves back from me slightly, showing he doesn’t have the power he likes to pretend he has.

  “Am I clear?” He nods his head and I notice the shaky breath he takes. Paul is one of those guys that like to talk big, trying to impress everyone with his stories.

  Rhys stands behind her desk with her mouth hanging open slightly. I usually have a lot more patience than I'm showing here but I'm getting a headache and I can’t be arsed with him.

  “Yes, crystal clear. I ... I’ll get to my station.” I rub my fingers against my temple trying to release some of the pressure that’s built. I walk to my office and close the door behind me. I want to slam it over and over to relieve some of my frustrations but I know I will regret it when the noise makes my head explode all over my office walls. I collapse into the chair behind my desk and open the top drawer. I know I have medicine in here somewhere, I would never not have a supply wherever I am. I’ve suffered from headaches since I was a teenager and I’ve been told by numerous doctors it’s a side effect from a head injury I got as a kid. My lack of sleep doesn’t help either, getting only a few hours each night, I think this is the reason I seem to have a permanent headache.

  I move some folders of artwork out of the way and see the bottle that will give me at least some relief. I shake the last three tablets into my hand and walk over to my table top fridge I have on my filing cabinet and I grab an energy drink, swallowing the pills along with half of the bottle. I don't know how I would function without them, they give me the energy I need in order to function like a human being. Finishing my drink I throw it into the bin next to my desk, it lands on the top of a huge pile of empty bottles and I make a note to empty the bin at the end of the day. I grab another one from the fridge and head out to the workroom, praying that Paul doesn't talk to me. Luckily, I see him at his station working on his first client, I don't know why people wait around for him when he's late. He's good but he’s not the best, that’s me. I let a small smile play on my lips as I give myself that compliment, there is nothing quite like a little self-praise. I sit down at my station and store my bottle on the bottom shelf away from all my equipment.

  Rhys walks into the workroom and approaches me with a smile on her face. This is never a good sign, she’s scaring me a little bit. She has a piece of paper in her hand and when she’s standing in front of me she holds it out towards me.

  “I was told to give this to the really hot guy who just did Bambi’s tattoo. Yes you heard that right, her name was Bambi.” I can see the humour in her eyes while she talks to me. I have known Rhys since she started in my tattoo shop about six months ago and I’ve loved getting to know her. She has a wicked sense of humour and she’s not bad to look at either. Okay, that’s the biggest understatement ever, Rhys is beautiful. She has long blonde hair and beautiful green eyes. I noticed her the second she walked into the shop for her interview and I think that even if she had been the worst person that I interviewed I would’ve hired her. As it was her interview had lasted a lot longer than it should have and we ended up talking about everything other than the job. I realised a long time ago that she is the one person, apart from my friend Clay, that I can actually talk openly to. She can take me out of the worst of moods with just a smile.

  “I bet you find that really funny?” I grab the piece of paper out of her hand and scrunch it up into a ball, throwing it into the bin next to me. Her smile grows as she watches the ball fly through the air. It’s a common occurrence to get a
number from one of my clients but not once have I ever called any of them. It doesn’t stop Rhys having fun bringing them to me.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” I try to sound bossy but she knows me better than that so she laughs as she goes back to her desk. I smile as I listen to her. I see Paul staring at Rhys as she leaves the room but who can blame him. I turn back to my station and make sure I'm ready for when Tony arrives.

  ****

  I stand and stretch my hands above my head, making my back crack.

  “Tony, I think we can finally say you’re finished.” After working three hours on shading and highlighting I think we can safely say his tattoo is finished, and what an amazing piece it is. I know I’m biased but I genuinely think it’s some of my best work so far. It’s a huge scene across his whole back featuring skulls, flowers, and a lot of script. He wanted something to show his love for his father who passed away, and I think I managed to capture it perfectly.

  “Get your arse off my chair and go check it would you.” I like Tony, he probably gets more chat from me than most people. He is simply a nice guy with no ulterior motive and that is the reason I like him so much. He’s older with an even temper, when shit happens in life he just brushes them off. I like that about him, there is no drama, I hate drama and spend my life trying to avoid it. He pushes himself up off the chair with a grunt, it must take a lot to get a frame like his out of a chair.

  Tony isn’t a small guy, his belly protrudes far out in front of him and as he puts it, it’s down to his love of pork scratching’s and Guinness. Standing in front of the full-length mirror he tries to see over his shoulder for a look, but it’s not going to work. I grab the hand held mirror from the side and give it to him, he holds it up and see the reflection of his back in it. “Well damn boy. You really have exceeded yourself this time, haven't you? It’s pretty good.” And that there is the most praise I think anyone has ever gotten from Tony. I smile at him, or as much of a smile as I give anyone.