Chapter Fourteen
Mya
The studio reopened with no hitches thank God. Classes have been packed since the word got out that I am Cal Dorians sister. I blame the news, not my brother. They reported on the break in and of course it was all about TAT.
I guess I should feel blessed for the business, so I try not to let it get to me. My brother casts a huge shadow and sometimes I am in it. I love him more than life so it’s an easy curse to have.
I see Sam pull in on his bike and it warms me every night he comes here for me. He walks slow and looks exhausted and I wish I knew what was eating at him. He spends all day at the PIT drawing tattoo’s he refuses to give. He has such amazing talent with his fabricated art, but it doesn’t fulfill him.
I turn my thoughts off when he gets to the door. “Hey beautiful.” Sam says when he walks in. A dozen antique grey roses in his hands.
“Welltheseare beautiful I, however, am all sweaty and gross.” I say with a wink as I smell the pretty flowers.
He pulls me close and nuzzles into my neck licking softly. “You taste sweet no matter what, but I love that salty bite after you dance. Like eating chips and aSnickers, Pet.”
I laugh rolling my eyes. “Give me five to clean myself off and we can head home?” Yes, I said home. I haven’t rented my place out yet, but there was no waiting with Sam. He moved me into his little shack the next day while I was at the studio.
“No way, I am showering with you at home. Then I’ll fuck you proper and shit.”
I laugh and know damn well he isn’t bluffing. I get wet even thinking about it. I make my way to the back to get dressed and he follows. “How was your day?” I ask, knowing the answer. It is the same answer every day.
“Good. Went to the shop and hung out, did some drawing. I actually talked to Noah about some new lighting for the shop… we kind of got into it.”
That shocks me. Noah is the closest thing to a sibling that Sam has. They never argue. “What for?”
“He wants me back in the shop.”
I watch him through the mirror as I pull my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. This has been a source of contention lately. I know Sam very well and I know he is going crazy missing the shop and tattooing, but for whatever reason he refuses to return. “And?” I ask, careful not to rock this boat.
“It’s hard to explain.” He says by way of speaking the truth. I decide to just bluntly say what I think and stop kitten footing around the issue. I turn around and lean against the counter and fold my arms under my breasts.
“Can I take a guess?”
He bites his lower lip and nods, saying nothing. He has no desire to hear what I have to say, but it’s time. “Babe, being happy is a good thing. You are happiest tattooing, fucking me and living your best life.”
“I am living my best life.” He walks towards me and tries to pull me to him, but I stop him and brush his hands off my hips. He steps back and looks at me. Hurt or angry I can’t tell, but he didn’t like me pushing him away.
“You can’t distract me right now baby. This is getting out of control and I am worried.”
He groans and readjusts his hat. “Fuck, you sound like Noah. I just had this fight Mya; I don’t need to redo it!” He is pissed now, but I don’t care. Sometimes couples need to fight.
“Well you have no choice. You wake up in a panic every night. You prattle around the welding shop bored and end up going into Paradox to draw. You can draw anywhere Sam but, you go there because it inspires you and you miss it.”
His eyes are on me and I can feel his anger. His stubbornness over this fear of happiness has me angry too. ‘So what? Now you go silent?” I snap.
He turns and walks away from me without a word, but I stop him. “Hell, no you did not just walk away from me Samuel!” I yell and follow him. He turns to look at me, goes to speak and stops.
“What? Fucking say something!” I yell.
“What if I’m right? What if I let all the good shit in and then I am right, and something happens? I have been there, for fucking years I lived in that place and freedom from it is fucking terrifying Mya.” He readjusts his hat again and it didn’t fit the way he wanted so he tears it off and chucks it against one of the many new mirrors. “Fuck!” He yells.
I am glad he is mad; he needs to be.
“You are living a half life Sam. I want you as happy as I am. Even if something awful happens.”
He looks at me incredulously. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
I know how that sounded and I take a step off my high horse. “I don’t mean it like that. I would never be flippant over the course your life took and the things you’ve lost.”
