Redemption (Tattoos & Tears - Brody Book 1) Read online

  “From the silence, I’m assuming that’s a yes. I fucking knew it! That boy has no shame; it’s his signature move.”

  I lean forward, sensing her unease at my line of questioning. She looks like she’s going to burst into tears, and I try desperately to stifle my laughter. For fucks sake, does she have to be so fucking sensitive?

  “Seriously, don’t sweat it, babe.”

  She shakes her head and I almost feel bad for being such a prick. Almost.

  “It’s fine, really,” she says softly, clearing her throat, with a wave of her hand.

  “OK, my turn. I take dare.”

  Let’s get this fucking party started!

  ***

  A few hours pass and a whole lot of truth or dares later, we are extremely drunk, after polishing off a whole bottle of Jack Daniels and half a bottle of tequila. Fuck me, I can’t see straight, and I’m suitably wasted. I’ve had a good night getting to know her and maybe she’s not that bad after all, I could see us easily becoming the best of friends. I’ve got to see a different side of her tonight and I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for being an absolute dickhead towards her since she met Sam. Sam deserves to be happy and I was a selfish prick for jeopardising it. I’ve apologised on more than once occasion tonight and I fucking hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me. From those few hours spent in her company tonight, she makes me want to be better, she makes me want to try and she’s one of the very few people that makes me feel that way.

  “I’m off to bed, babe, I’m fucking fucked!” I slur as I stumble from side to side and we both laugh. “Care to join me?”

  I ask cheekily, wiggling my eyebrows. I know I’m pushing my luck, but I can’t help myself. The attempt she makes at rolling her eyes, has me belly laughing.

  “You wish, rock star!”

  Something in the way she says that term of endearment, makes me feel special. I know that sounds lame, but it makes me feel wanted and not even my mum wanted me. No, not going there tonight, I’m in too much of a good fucking mood.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing, sweetness!”

  I wink and I manage to stagger back to my bunk on the bus, hopeful that this is the start of a beautiful fucking friendship.

  ***

  Rick’s voice snaps me back to the present.

  "What about the other boys, describe your relationship with them?"

  I lean further back in my seat and make myself comfortable.

  "Jax is the baby of the bunch, he’s always been the boy next door and all the women love him. He's a good time guy but we're not as close as we used to be because he saw how I almost destroyed Sam. I'll be eternally sorry for that, I don't think Jax has ever forgiven me for it. His fiancée died in Vegas, after she gave birth to his daughter and he's fiercely protective of her. He's not the same as he was before Ruby, he’s so lost and he's a little more broken now, we all are."

  I feel all kinds of fucked up, as I think of what happened in the city of Sin. We saw things that no human beings should ever have seen, and we lived through things that no normal people have.

  "Lucas, he's...complicated, he's clever, but none of us have ever got close enough, to know the real him. He's guarded, like military grade guarded, he doesn't give anything away and that scares the shit out of me sometimes. Even after over twenty-plus years of friendship, he's still a mystery to me, to all of us. He’s closer to Jax now, like me and Sam are, but he's a great listener. He’s very observant and extremely intelligent; a definite ladies’ man. I think women get off on trying to figure him out, but he doesn't make it easy.”

  Rick nods and uncrosses his leg.

  "Do you want to tell me what happened in Las Vegas?"

  I roll my neck and steeple my fingers underneath my chin tautly.

  "No, not really," I say flatly and resolutely.

  I’d rather stick pins in my fucking eyes.

  "It was well documented in the press; it can't have been easy to witness such carnage," he presses.

  I take a deep breath to quell the need for a hit and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

  "That day will be etched into my consciousness until the day I fucking die. We lost so many people close to us that day, it's still hard to comprehend. I'll never forget the horrific sounds, the sights, it fucking haunts me," I say with a clenched jaw.

  The sheer insanity of the whole situation and the events that took place on that fateful day, continue to affect us all, in one way or another.

  Rick has stopped scribbling vehemently in his notebook and he’s just sitting there listening, in disbelief, as I resume explaining what happened on the tragic day that changed all our lives drastically. Even though I’d rather not talk about it, I know sharing with Rick will put things into perspective and shed new light on an awful fucking event.

  "I’ll be honest, I haven't been in a good place since it happened. I saw some of the closest people to us butchered in the most horrific ways. The mindless bloodshed and the evil acts of violence. I saw a bullet pierce Ruby's skull; I saw the moment in slow fucking motion. I tried to help her, I tried to reassure her, I was fucking terrified, I was covered in her blood, it all happened so fast, some of it was a complete blur, but I was a total fucking mess. While Jax was unconscious, I lay next to her and held her hand, I stroked her stomach, and I told her everything was going to be fine. I fucking lied to a dying woman!"

  I angrily swipe away a tear that has escaped from my eye. I never cry, I’ve spent so long repressing my feelings and emotions, I've almost forgotten what it feels like to actually feel.

  "I lied to her, I made promises I couldn't keep, I...tried so fucking hard to help her, but it didn't do any good."

  I sob and the look on Rick’s face, is one of sympathy, as I’m transported back to that awful fucking day.

  Two Years Ago

  Today is supposed to be Sam and Peyton’s wedding, a day of celebration, drunken dancing and me fucking some nameless bridesmaid in the bog. Instead some unknown fucking lunatic shrouds the room in a constant and relentless stream of bullets. They’re ruthless and don’t seem to give a shit who they hurt; they’re shooting to kill. I’m so fucking terrified, I can barely think, as I lay there under the first pew that I could dive towards. Bullets thunking into the wooden pew and splinters of wood, showering down on me like wooden tears from the crosses on the wall, lamenting the scene of utter fucking chaos. Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. I see Alistair’s head explode, as he is hit by four bullets, in quick succession. Thick, red, viscous brain and fragments of skull spraying out to decorate the walls and floor, as his body hits the ground with a sound I can barely hear over the cacophonous roar of gunfire and people screaming. There’s a Chinese looking kid, can’t be more than twenty-five, rooted to the spot in sheer terror. I see countless dark crimson stains start to form and spread out across his pale blue silk shirt, as he looks down with a look of utter confusion. He puts his hand on his chest, looks at his hand and just folds to the floor. Callum runs straight at the maniac with the guns, shouting something incoherent and without hesitation, the guns, which I think are automatic pistols, are turned on him and his head vanishes into brain matter, blood exploding all over the place. It was so sudden that his legs carried on going from the momentum and they kicked up into the air, like Wile E fucking Coyote.

  As I listen to the hail of bullets rain down around me, my heart pounding in my chest, my survival instinct kicks in, and I crawl further underneath the pew. I know I’m a fucking coward, but of all the million ways to die, being taken out by a bullet in a chapel in Vegas, of all fucking places, doesn’t even register on my list. But as I’m lying on my stomach, stock still, underneath the chapel pew, all that’s running through my mind is staying alive. I saw Sam get shot, and it took everything in me to stay hidden, even as I saw his blood seeping from his lifeless body. I hold my breath and remain stock still, as the guns incessant firing made hearing anything else, even rational thought, impossible.


  Out of nowhere, I hear a bone chilling scream and what I see is going to haunt me until the day I die. It happens so fast; it almost feels like it’s in slow motion. A bullet pierces Ruby’s skull, and she’s so close to me that I hear a low, guttural moan as she hits the wooden floor, inches away from me. Her scared, glazed hazel eyes lock with mine and I can’t stay fucking hidden anymore, I have to help her. I shuffle across the floor on my stomach, I think I saw it in a movie once, I’m a regular John fucking Rambo. I’m at her side in seconds, desperately trying to stay hidden and not attract the attention of the shooter. My heart is pounding and I’m regretting that stack of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup I had for breakfast because it’s threatening to evacuate all over the floor. I grasp her hand in mine and I’m not sure if she knows I’m here.

  “Ruby, it’s me, Brody, can you hear me?”

  She garbles incoherently and I curse softly to myself, as I start trembling violently. I’m way out of my depth and I have no fucking idea what I’m supposed to do.

  “Ruby, listen to me, you’re going to be ok, yeah?” I whisper softly, as I stroke her hand.

  “You and your baby, you’re going to be just fine, I promise.”

  My voice is shaky and I’m fully aware I’m making promises I can’t fucking keep. I shuffle closer to her and place my hand on her large bump.

  “You and Jax, you’re going to get your happy ever after, the one we talked about once, remember? Fuck! I’m out of my depth here, sweets, help me out.”

  I swipe a stray tear from my eye, I’ve never been this scared before, ever. I’ve seen some awful things and I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but this utter carnage, is on another fucking level.

  I’ve never considered how I would die, and I’ve never thought about facing my own mortality. I always thought that I would stare death straight in the eye and shout ‘FUCK YOU!’ in his face, while giving him the finger. That’s more my style. But, as I lie here whispering words of comfort to Ruby, it puts things into perspective for me, that nothing lasts forever, everything, even life is temporary.

  I hear more gun shots and I flinch violently at the sound. I squeeze Ruby’s hand and she doesn’t respond.

  “Ruby, Ruby, Ruby?” I mutter desperately and shuffle closer to her.

  She’s still breathing, barely, but I try to awkwardly cradle her lifeless body in my arms and rest my head on her shoulder.

  “Ruby, please, please. I need you to wake up! Fuck! Fuck! Darlin’, wake up, please!”

  At that moment, I’m overwhelmed by the insanity of the whole situation and out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a clock hanging on the wall. I'm not sure if it’s my mind playing tricks on me, or sheer terror making me delirious, but I convince myself that time has actually stopped.

  The firing ceases and the eerie silence makes me let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding, and I raise my head to see if I can somehow escape, or at least call for help. I see someone charge towards the gunman, I recognise Seb, as I witness him put his hand up under the front of the shooters helmet and wrench so fucking violently sideways, I’m surprised the helmet didn’t come off with the head inside. I have never in my life heard such a deafening, sickening snap, as the neck is broken, and the upper vertebrae is severed. Seb launches the lifeless corpse towards the wall, it hits with such force, that I’m sure it must have shattered the spine of that sick motherfucker.

  I’m snapped back to the here and now by Rick’s soft voice. A tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away angrily, pissed off at him for forcing me to talk about it.

  "Ruby's death wasn't your fault, you did all you could, you’re a hero, Brody."

  Rick tries to gently reassure me, and I shake my head.

  "She lived long enough to give birth to her daughter, but I look at that beautiful little girl every fucking day and I see Ruby and that scene playing out repeatedly. It doesn’t stop me forgetting that I fucking hid like a pathetic, coward, while my family were lying on some cold chapel floor bleeding out! It's part of the reason why I'm here because I’m not a hero! I’m a coward and I’ve never admitted it before because I’m ashamed! I'm a selfish, fuck-up, because I can't say no to drugs, because I'm as weak as my fucking junkie mother!"

  I spit bitterly and I can't stop the honesty from spilling out.

  "I hate myself, Rick. I can't bear to look at myself in the mirror, because every time I look in the mirror, I see her, I see my mum staring back at me."

  I get up from my seat, rubbing my hands over my head and start to frantically pace the room. Fuck me, I’m desperate for a fix.

  “I can’t fucking do this. I can’t, I just can’t.”

  I repeat, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut, trying to quiet the voices in my head. I really don’t need this shit right now, I need a hit, just one delicious line. I need to be obliterated to block out these dark thoughts.

  “FUCCCCKK!”

  I roar, hitting myself in the side of the head, relishing in the sharp pain that barely registers.

  “I need to get high, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  Rick observes me carefully and going over the events of Vegas, has me feeling more than a little agitated and a whole lot on edge. I feel the overwhelming urge to get high, I need it so badly; it’s making my mouth water and I can taste it. I start to tremble violently, I feel like I need to throw up, I’m sweating profusely, and my chest feels tight, as my breathing becomes laboured. My last thought as I succumb to the blackness is, this can’t be fucking happening.

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but I come around to a concerned Rick, sitting on the floor next to me.

  “Brody, you had a panic attack and passed out, mate. Another few minutes and I’d have been forced to ring an ambulance.”

  He says softly and calmly. I look up at him and the look in his eyes isn’t of judgement, it is a look of quiet understanding.

  “Are you ok? Can you sit up for me?”

  I sit up slowly, and he offers me a cup of water. I take it and sip it with a trembling hand, while trying to avoid eye contact.

  “Does that happen often?” he enquires, and I shake my head, with my gaze firmly rooted to the floor.

  It hasn’t happened in a long fucking time.

  “Do you want me to call someone? Sam, Peyton, your sober sponsor, perhaps?” he asks with a furrowed brow, and I shake my head vehemently.

  That’s the last thing I fucking need. He offers me his hand and helps me to my feet. As I unsteadily get to my feet, I’m hit with this sudden overwhelming urge to run. I can’t fucking be here anymore. I shake my head.

  “I’m…I’m sorry, I can’t, I can’t fucking be here.”

  He seems to know what I’m about to do, and he tries to stop me by blindly making a grab for me. I haphazardly shove him out of the way and high tail it out of there, without looking back. Fuck my life.

  ***

  I find myself dialling the most unlikely person. I’m not in a good place right now and I need someone to talk to. Someone who was there on that fucking awful day, who knows exactly what I’m going through. The phone rings three times, before it connects.

  “Hello?”

  I clear my throat.

  “Hey Amy, it’s Brody.”

  She pauses.

  “What do you want, Brody?” she says with a bored tone and I laugh at her reaction to my call.

  “Look, I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I’m fucking struggling here, I’m a fucking mess. I’ve just come from a therapy session and I freaked the fuck out. I just need someone who was there at the chapel in Vegas, someone who knows exactly what I’m going through.”

  I hear her sigh softly.

  “I know you don’t fucking like me, I’m not under any illusions that we’re even friends. I-I just can’t go to Sam, the boys, or even Peyton, they’re too close. I wouldn’t normally ask, but-I’m fucking desperate, Aims.”

  As I wait for her reply, I hear a
loud noise. My hands start to shake, and my heartbeat starts to quicken. Fuck me.

  “We’ve had our differences, but I’m glad you reached out. I’ll put the kettle on, I’ll even stretch to some chocolate biscuits!”

  We both chuckle.

  “Thanks, Aims, I appreciate it. I’ll be there soon. Mines coffee, black, three sugars.”

  She laughs, “ok, see you soon.”

  I hang up, flagging down a cab and climbing in the back, as Trey comes flying out of the building, touching his hand to his ear. I reel off the address on autopilot and my mind is swimming with flashbacks from Vegas, I can’t focus on anything, but the sight of Ruby’s lifeless body. The sick sound of the hail of bullets, pounds through my brain, as the idle chatter of cab driver barely registers in my jumbled thoughts. I stare absently into space, trying to focus on anything other than the worse time in my life.