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Lukas glares at his brother with slight annoyance. “The receptionist at the tat parlor? The girl that makes all the appointments and makes people pay us?”
“Oh. Why did you fire her?”
“She was sleeping with the customers.”
“So?”
“Vandal,” Ivy says. “You guys have one of the best reputations in the state for having not only two of the most talented artists, but also being the cleanest and most professional parlor. You can’t have some slut at the forefront.”
Vandal raises a suspicious eye at Lukas. “Did you bang her?”
Lukas slams his fork down. “Fuck no.”
“Neither did I. Hire someone else then, who’s not going to blow our clients.”
“Great plan,” Ivy says, and we smile across the table at each other. I don’t think either one of us wants a slutty girl working where our men are all day.
***
After dinner, Lukas goes out to his car to get his violin and Vandal grabs his acoustic bass and we sit out back with tiki torches lit. It is hard not to swoon at the sight of these two brothers sitting side by side, the torches casting a warm glow over their muscled, tattooed arms, with their silky black hair falling over their eyes. Lukas raises the bow and slowly glides it down the strings, his eyes closed as a haunting sound floats from his violin. I hold my breath listening to him, completely captivated, the way he sways slowly as he plays, so fluid in his motion, as if he is one with the beautiful wooden instrument. He pauses for a moment and Vandal strums his bass, the deep sound resonating straight through me, his hands moving up and down the strings seductively, occasionally tapping the side of the wood. I watch his hands, the way they move so confidently, slow then fast, much like they touch and play my body. Lukas comes in again and they play together in perfect unison, a dark duet that is half metal and half classical. Ivy and I are both entranced, watching them play, the raw sensuality and talent of these men sucking us both in like a vacuum. I’m sure Ivy is under the same trance with Lukas as I am with Vandal, powerless to fight it. I cross my legs as the familiar tingling manifests between my thighs while I watch the man I’m in love with, his head slightly bent towards the guitar, long hair hanging down his chest, fingers stepping up and down the strings. Everything about him pulls me and makes me want him more and more, like an undeniable magnet.
I cannot imagine the insane effect these guys must have on the female fans. The girls must be literally drooling over them, ovaries exploding with a mere sideways glance from either brother. Vandal never talks about the band or his future plans so I am left to wonder if we stay in a relationship, how much of his life is dedicated to the band and the tattoo parlor, and how that will affect us? I’m not quite sure how I’ll feel knowing that hordes of women will be gawking at him, and getting wet over him, offering themselves to him, wanting nothing in return except to be able to say they hooked up with him. Will he resist them and remain committed to me? Or will he eventually end up cheating and want to be free to have a variety of women? I could never share him or accept him being with another woman.
Night comes, and I catch Vandal glancing at me with that lustful gaze he gets when he wants me. I’m sure I must have the same look in my own eyes after watching him play because I feel incredibly turned on and woozy, almost drunk from the music mixed with the sexiness the brothers ooze.
Lukas puts his violin down. “We should get going,” he says. “It’s getting late.”
“You guys can crash here if you want,” Vandal suggests, surprising me. “You could stay in the guest room.”
Lukas closes up his violin case. “I wish we could, but we can’t, man. Ivy has a sitter at the house with Tommy.”
“Ah. Got ya.”
Ivy helps me clean up the table, and the guys extinguish the torches and grab their instruments, then we all go inside to say goodbye. I’m glad the guys had a good day together and I hope this is the start of them building a bond.
“I’m just gonna use the restroom,” Ivy says.
“Sure. It’s down the hall to the right,” I tell her, not sure if she has ever been here before. Vandal disappears down the hall to put his guitar away and Lukas turns to me in the living room and grabs my hand, turning my wrist over. I have slight red marks on my wrists from the ribbons that Vandal ties me with, which fade but come back again since he ties my wrists several nights per week.
“Is he tying you?” he asks, his voice lowered.
I pull my hand away. “That’s none of your business.”
He shakes his head. “Yeah, you’re right. But you seem like a sweet girl. Just be careful what you’re getting into. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. If he’s got you living here, doing this with you, he’s not going to just let you go.”
“I don’t want to go.”
He stares at me and then tilts his head slowly, his brow furrowing. “What’s your last name?” he asks.
“What?” I ask, confused. “It’s Bennett. Why?”
His face pales. “I thought you looked familiar. Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?”
“Um … Vandal’s brother? Have we met before?” He doesn’t look at all familiar to me. I would never forget a man that looked like him.
He opens his mouth and then clams up when Vandal and Ivy come into the room.
“What’s going on?” Vandal asks, eyeing us.
“Vandal, can I talk to you real quick?” Lukas asks. “I need to talk to you about the shop.”
“So call me tomorrow.” He yawns. “I’m tired.”
Lukas’s face is hard. “No. We have to talk about it now.” He turns to Ivy. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
Ivy and I watch as they walk through the kitchen and out the back sliding doors, Lukas with his hand gripping Vandal’s arm. Something is definitely up.
“Is everything all right?” she asks me, looking just as confused as I feel.
“Yeah, I think so.” I shrug.
Vandal
Lukas is tripping out, practically dragging me through the house. As soon as we get outside I pull my arm from his death grip.
“Dude, what’s going on?” I ask him.
He points to the house. “Do you know who that is?”
“Who? What are we talking about?”
“Tabitha. Tabitha Bennett?”
He knows.
He fucking knows.
I stare him down, my breathing getting deeper as my heart thumps harder, like a drum.
“Leave it alone, Lukas. Go home,” I say, my voice like ice.
He looks at me with wide eyes. “Leave it alone? Vandal, what are you doing? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“How do you know who she is?” I demand, fear growing in me at the notion that he may have said something to her while I was out of the room. She could be in the car with Ivy right now, waiting to get far away from me.
He crosses his arms and stares up at the moonlit sky, and then turns to me slowly. “I was there the night of the accident. I saw her, at the hospital. I think she was in shock; the nurse left her in the hallway on a gurney, all bloody and banged up, right next to me. I was waiting for someone to tell me what was going on with you. It was total chaos.”
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” I ask, stepping closer to him. “Just now, when you were with her?”
“So, she really doesn’t know who you are?”
“No. She has no idea,” I admit.
He paces across the deck, shaking his head, and comes back to stand in front of me again. “You can’t do this. Why would you do this?”
“It wasn’t planned. I met her by accident at the cemetery. She was a fucking mess, just like me. She was falling apart at her husband’s grave. I saw her there a few times, and the last time, I couldn’t stay away from her. Everything after that just kinda happened.”
“Kinda happened?” he repeats. “I can’t believe this. I thought you were getting better. I thought you were happy, and finally found so
meone normal to be with, and that you were going to just not be so … fucking dysfunctional. And now I find out this. You really do create your own disasters, Van.”
“I am happy, Lukas. And so is she. And look who’s talking. You’re no better than me. You’re just as fucked up as I am.”
“She’s happy because she doesn’t know you were part of the fucking accident that killed her husband. Vandal, come on.” I look towards the house to make sure the girls aren’t watching us from a window. “You can’t do this shit,” Lukas continues. “And for the record, I am better than you. I would never deceive someone like this. It’s cruel.”
“She loves me,” I say, but I know it’s a weak excuse because Lukas is right—I shouldn’t be treating her this way.
“You’re fucking tying her up with your sick shit. I saw her wrists; they’re all red.”
I grab his throat and push him up against the house. “I am not sick,” I seethe, and quickly let him go before I hurt him. “You don’t know anything about it or what we have. She’s here willingly. She doesn’t judge me. She wants it. She wants me.”
He shakes his head and lowers his eyes away from me as he rubs his throat. “Lukas, don’t fuck with me. You don’t understand. I can’t lose her. I’ve never cared about anyone like I do for her. She’s everything I’ve always wanted. She gets me.” He sighs and backs up a few steps. “I’ll tell her someday, but not now. She’s not ready yet, and neither am I. Just let us be fucking happy for a while.”
