An Act of Release: Order & Chaos Book 2 Read online

  Holy hell, she wasn't going to let this go. I was stubborn, but Natie was the most tenacious person I knew. I couldn't out stubborn her, not when she was a kid and most definitely not now.

  My body deflated in resignation, my arms falling limp in my lap. "I broke up with Jen," I whispered in defeat then clenched my teeth against the wave of pain that hit me. It was followed by a wave of sorrow. My chest felt tight and ached deep inside. "It's over."

  "Oh, Ford," she said gently as she sat on the edge of my bed and grabbed one of my hands. Her eyes were soft and empathetic. "What happened?"

  "She wasn't who I thought she was," I answered in a small voice.

  "What do you mean?" Natie asked in confusion.

  "It all started when this crazy bitch came into the shop on Tuesday. She was annoying as fuck and hit on me the whole time I gave her this god-awful tramp stamp. I shut her down, and it must have pissed her off. I didn't know it was Jen's best friend, Tori. She told Jen that it was the other way around, and I hit on her."

  "What a bitch." Natie said indignantly.

  "Friday night, Jen texted me to come pick her up at some dance club because she was drunk, and I found her there dancing all over some other guy. I dragged her out to the parking lot where she accused me of hitting on Tori and hooking up with my clients all the time. Apparently, this Tori hooked up with A.J. a few weeks back. I saw them together outside the shop that day. He must have fed her that line of bullshit about me since I pissed him off."

  "I don't understand." Natie looked confused. "Why would that make you break up with her? She was lied to by someone she trusted. That's not her fault."

  Now I was to the part of my story where I couldn't tell my sister everything. She didn't know what happened between Dad and me three years ago. I didn't ever want her to know about it. If she found out that I was into rope bondage, and looked at me with that same look of disgust that Dad and Jenny did, it would completely destroy me. So I told her what I could.

  "She said I lied to her about everything, and that I was just like that asshole ex-boyfriend I told you about, who pretty much raped her and called her a slut." I took a harsh breath and spewed out the rest. "She called me a sick fuck." I couldn't stop my voice from breaking at the end. The pain was still so raw.

  "What?" Natie was incensed now, her eyes lighting up with green fire.

  "I never lied to her, Natie, not once, yet she just accused me of doing those things without even asking me if it was true. I thought she trusted me."

  Natie gripped my hand tightly. "You fell in love with her didn't you?"

  I nodded helplessly. "I thought I found the one. I thought she loved me, but that was the real lie. I was a fool for trusting her. She tried to tell me that Tori sent that text, but now I think she was just fucking with me to get even for something I didn't even do. She accused me of playing fucked-up head games with her, but the truth is that's what she did to me. I can't be with someone like that, and I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me." My eyes burned with the threat of tears. I lapsed into silence for a moment as I fought them down. "But even after all that, I still miss her, Natalie. I still love her. How fucked up is that?"

  "I'm so sorry, Ford," Natie whispered as her eyes filled with tears, and it was all I could do not to join her. She pulled me toward her and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back, accepting the comfort she gave me, not realizing until just now, how much I needed it.

  "You should talk to her again," Natie said quietly as she leaned back to meet my eyes. "Maybe it's not too late. People make mistakes. Maybe that's all this was."

  "I don't think so, Natie," I said dejectedly. She didn't see Jen's face when she called me a sick fuck. She didn't know the true extent of how Jen hurt me. Jen was ashamed of me, disgusted by me, and I wouldn't let her hurt me again.

  Natie pursed her lips and gave me another quick hug, before leaning away with distaste written all over her face.

  "Ew, you stink," she groaned out. "When is the last time you showered?"

  "Saturday." I'd really let myself go, physically and emotionally. I needed to get my shit together if I wanted to function at work tomorrow.

  "Why don't you get cleaned up, and I'll take you to lunch."

  "Deal," I agreed as I climbed out of bed. "Could you take me by The Hole in the Wall afterwords to pick up my truck?"

  "Why the hell is it there?" she asked in confusion.

  "Well, I kind of got shit-faced there Friday night, and Justin had to take me home." I gave her a sheepish expression as I scratched at my dirty itchy scalp.

  "Does that bruise on your face have something to do with that?"

  "Maybe," I admitted with a shrug.

  "Boys." She shook her head as she rolled her eyes and smiled at me.

  I tried to work up the will to smile back, but I just couldn't manage it. Her face turned sympathetic as I turned to go into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me with a heavy sigh, wondering if I'd ever want to smile again.

  **********

  I'd been sitting at my desk with my head in my hands for a while now, trying to work up the energy to turn on the computer or even care about being here. It was a little before eleven Tuesday morning. I came down to my office about a half-hour ago, thinking that work could distract me, but that didn't happen. All I could think about was the day that I met Jenny here, and how much I wanted her then, and how much I still did. Why did I feel this way? She made it abundantly clear that she didn't care about me. She didn't love me, yet I was still helplessly in love with her. Aching emptiness fell over me. Fuck, I missed her so much. I was so fucking pathetic.

  I suddenly felt someone watching me, and I was pretty sure who it was. I lifted my head from my hands to see Angel standing in the doorway of my office with a pensive and worried expression. Guilt hit me hard. She should be angry at me. I acted like a dick and treated her like shit on Saturday, then left her to run the shop by herself.

  "Are you okay?" Angel asked softly as she took a hesitant step toward me.

  "Not even close," I said in a deflated tone, feeling weighed down by the burden of everything I was feeling.

  "Did something happen with Jenny?" Angel took a seat on my nearby black leather couch.

  "I broke it off," I muttered dejectedly.

  "Why?" she asked in genuine surprise.

  I looked at the ceiling and sighed, not really wanting to discuss it, but I owed Angel an explanation and an apology. I told her an edited version of what happened Friday night, since I'd never told her what happened with my father three years ago either. I powered through it before the pain overwhelmed me again. "She called me a sick fuck," I said bitterly. "Needless to say, I learned the hard truth that I fell in love with a fantasy. I can't be with someone who doesn't accept all of me."

  "Ah." Understanding filled her eyes and she nodded, getting immediately that I didn't want to discuss it anymore right now. She was one of the few people who knew about my kinky side, and she understood being judged harshly for her sexual preferences since she was gay. Hell, her own family disowned her years ago.

  "I'm sorry about how I treated you Saturday," I told her with a pained expression. "I was a real asshole."

  "You were hurting," she said. "It's okay."

  "No." I shook my head. "It's not, but I'm glad you're not going to hold it against me."

  "You do owe me though." She smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood. That didn't work either.

  "I do, Angel," I said in soft apologetic tone. "I really do."

  "It's in the past now, Ford." Her smile softened. "It'll take more than that to get rid of me."

  "Good," I said with relief. "You know I couldn't run this place without you."

  "Baby, you couldn't survive without me," she replied with a smirk.

  "Don't I know it." I forced a smile that I knew was fake. I watched Angel's face turn sympathetic.

  She sighed as she stood up and moved toward the doorway. "Well, I'd better unlock th
e front door." I nodded and watched her leave, grateful that she was my friend. I might feel lost and heartbroken, but at least I wasn't all alone in my pain. It made me feel a little better. I finally turned on the computer, and thought I might actually be able to focus on some work for a little while.

  That thought died when I heard A.J.'s voice float down the hall to my office a moment later. I ground my teeth together and immediately grabbed the phone. I dialed the reception desk extension, clutching the phone with white knuckles. It was time to have it out with him, and I didn't want an audience.

  "Hey, Ford," Liz, my receptionist, answered brightly. "What's up?"

  "Send A.J. back here," I answered tersely as anger simmered inside me. "Now." The last word came out in a harsh growl.

  "Oh...okay," Liz said with nervous trepidation. I hung up before she could say anything else.

  A few moments later, A.J. walked into my office with a smug expression that pissed me off. "What's up, boss?" He said "boss" in a voice thick with sarcasm. I clenched my hands into fists under my desk with my nails digging into my palms.

  "Sit down," I snarled out as I glowered at him. I didn't want him standing over me, and I didn't trust myself not to pummel him if I stood myself. His smirk evaporated instantly, and he sat on the couch.

  I put my elbows on my desk and rested my chin on my twined hands. I fought to control my temper while watching him shift uncomfortably under my hard intense stare for a few moments. If he thought that he could play head games with me, he had another thing coming.

  "Did you have a rough weekend?" he finally asked snidely.

  "I'm a tolerant man most of the time," I began in a low intimidating voice, ignoring his attempt to goad me into a reaction. "I grant my employees a lot of leeway and overlook some behaviors that I probably shouldn't." I emphasized the word "behaviors" with meaningful sarcasm. "But there's one thing that I won't tolerate or overlook, and that's lying," I said as I leaned forward menacingly. "Especially about me." A.J.'s face suddenly paled, and I knew I'd struck a nerve. "So when I found out about a bullshit lie about me routinely hooking up with clients, imagine my reaction."

  "That's not a lie," he growled out defensively. "I know for a fact that you've been hooking up with Tori's best friend."

  "We weren't hooking up," I snarled. "We were dating. We were in a relationship." Pain lanced through me with that last word, but I shoved it down. "Now we're not, no thanks to you."

  "Bullshit," he grumbled with a sneer. "You don't date a girl like that. You're just pissed that I found out you were fucking a client. Don't feed me a line of shit that she was anything other than that to you. She's a slut just like Tori."

  In a heartbeat, I was out of my chair and across the room, red rage searing my vision. I grabbed A.J.'s collar with both hands and lifted him bodily off the couch. I slammed him up against the wall, making it rattle from the force. Air grunted out of A.J. from the impact, his eyes widening in actual fear now.

  "Jen is not a slut!" I roared in his face. "Say it again and you'll be drinking out of a fucking straw when I'm done with you!"

  "You're such a fucking hypocrite," A.J. growled out despite the fear still in his eye. "You think you're so much better than me. You're so stupid you thought fucking a whore was dating. Don't you know? Once a whore always a whore."

  I swear to God, that my brain short-circuited as complete and utter blind fury exploded inside me. I grabbed his throat and squeezed as I pulled my fist back to bash that smug look right off his goddamn fucking face.

  "Ford, what are you doing?! Stop!" I heard Angel snap out from the open doorway. I could see Angel and Liz standing there out of the corner of my eye.

  I paused as I glared at A.J., shaking violently as I tried to fight the rage down. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel just a measure of the pain I was in. I knew he wasn't completely to blame, but he was here, and I had my hands on him. I desperately wanted to lash out and smother the pain with physical violence. He was just a handy outlet. Horror surged up inside me. This was exactly how I used to deal with emotional pain. I thought that person was long gone, but apparently he was still inside me waiting to break out again. What the fuck was I doing? I was going to assault an employee in my own fucking tattoo shop. I jerked away from A.J. with a shudder of self-loathing.

  "You fucking assaulted me. I'm going to sue your sorry ass." He scowled at me as he slumped against the wall.

  "I have a better idea," Angel said as she glared at A.J. and put her palm on my chest to steady me. "I'll start calling all your female clients and see if any of them would like to charge you with sexual harassment."

  A.J. snapped his mouth shut and glowered at Angel. He didn't have a response to that. Asshole. I was done putting up with his shit.

  "You're fired, A.J.," I rumbled out in a harsh rasping voice as I shook with suppressed anger. "Get your shit and get the fuck out."

  "Fuck this place, and fuck all of you," A.J. bit out as he moved toward the door. "I don't want to work here anymore anyway." He stormed out with Liz hot on his heels. Knowing Liz, she'd make sure he left without stealing something or fucking something up out of spite on his way out.

  Angel looked up at me with her hand still on my chest. Her eyes were worried and sympathetic. "Are you okay now?" she asked softly.

  "No," I sighed. "I need to get out of here for a while."

  "Alright." She nodded in understanding. "I can take care of things here."

  "Thanks, Angel," I said gratefully. "I owe you one again. You saved my ass."

  "I know," she said with a smug smile. "Although watching you beat his ass would have been extremely satisfying."

  "But not worth the jail time or another possible assault charge," I answered in a bitter tone as guilt over my violent behavior swamped me. I thought I banished that asshole long ago.

  "Exactly." She gave me a wan smile. "Go do what you've got to do. We'll be fine until you get back."

  I nodded gratefully and headed out of my office. Within moments, I was on my bike and hitting the road, knowing exactly where I needed to go. I needed some honest advice and some clarity, and I knew who could give it to me. The man who helped me get rid of my old asshole-self in the first place, so I could become the man I was today. My old boss and mentor, Nick.

  **********

  Nick Pedrosa's tattoo shop was nothing like mine. Solid Stone Ink was an assault on the senses compared to my warm inviting interior design. Nick's place was bright and bold, with black and white checked tile floors and electric blue walls with white trim. Mirrors covered several sections of wall, and the wide reception desk was black with large brilliant orange flames air brushed across the front of it. The whole place was vibrant and fun, just like the owners. The only thing the place had in common with Apex Ink was the black leather couches in the waiting area.

  I walked through the front door to be greeted with a wide grin from Nick's wife and business partner, Holly. She was a beautiful and striking woman in her late forties, tall and lithe, with warm long blond hair and kind blue eyes. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was dressed in a loose-fitting black Led Zeppelin tank top, paired with jeans and flip-flops. Vivid tattoos covered her arms, each one lovingly given to her by her husband over the last twenty-five years of their marriage.

  "Ford!" she called out excitedly as she approached me with outstretched arms. "It's so good to see you."

  I opened my arms and gave her a subdued yet genuine hug. Holly and I were almost as close as Nick and me. It was a product of all the time we spent together, in and out of the shop over the last ten years. She and I shared a certain amount of intimacy since she was the model that Nick used when he taught me shibari. She was even gracious enough to let me practice on her too while I was learning. She was always dressed in a bikini with Nick present, and we never did anything sexual, but it was impossible not to develop a close relationship with someone after sharing that level of trust.

  "We've missed seeing you," Holly said as sh
e stepped back and smiled again. "It's been too long." Her smile waned, and her eyes filled with worry as she noticed that I wasn't smiling. I just couldn't manage it. I felt haunted by my past and broken by my present, and I'm sure it was written all over my face. She lifted her hand and placed it on my cheek in a motherly fashion. Holly pretty much considered me one of her kids, and I was fine with that. She was a great Mom to her teenage son and early twenties daughter. "What's wrong, Ford?"

  "I need to talk to Nick," I said in a desperate and fragile sounding voice.

  "Alright," she nodded immediately, her tone calm and soothing. "He's cleaning up after a client. Head on back."

  All I could manage was a curt nod as I went in search of my friend and mentor. I walked down between the two rows of tattoo stations, each enclosed by low walls, until I found him sitting at his workstation. He was bent over and focused intently on cleaning his tattoo gun. Nick was an attractive man in his late forties, his olive skin evidence of his Brazilian descent. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt and jeans. Tattoos covered every inch of his muscular arms and peeked out of the collar of his shirt. His short thick hair was more gray than black now, along with his thick beard stubble, but it only added to his appeal. I knew this because I'd seen many women throw themselves at him over the years, but he always shut them down. He only had eyes for Holly.

  "Nick," I said softly, instead of the sarcastic insult that I'd usually greet him with.

  Nick's head turned toward me as a wide grin spread across his full lips. It quickly evaporated as his warm amber eyes focused on my face. His thick dark eyebrows dropped into a worried furrow.

  "Ford?" he asked with concern in his distinctive Brazilian accent. Even though he moved to the U.S. when he was a teenager, he'd never lost it. It was just another reason so many women made unsuccessful passes at him. "What's wrong, irmão?" He always called me "brother" in Portuguese. It was that close bond that I was counting on to help me right now.

  "I'm so fucked up, Nick. Everything is so fucked up." I shook my head. "I don't know what to do."