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Chapter Twenty-Three
Evie
The buzz of the tattoo gun becomes background noise as the needle drills its thousands of tiny scratches into my skin. I watch the design I chose start to take shape, and Callum’s tattoo slowly disappearing under the new ink.
Taking the place of my ex-boyfriend’s name is a simple design of a motorcycle, front facing. It’ll always remind me of how Louis rode into my life and made me forget everything. It’s been three weeks since I last saw him, and it’s felt like an eternity. A few times, I’ve left the house to go seek him out, but the memory of him yelling in my face for me to leave had me turning back and going home.
I fall in and out of focus as the tattoo artist works with his earbuds in, thinking of Louis. The ache in my chest isn’t so bad when I’m busy, but come night, it nearly breaks me. He wanted to scare me the morning after Thomas came home. It didn’t work.
When I asked Psycho to bring my son home to me, I knew what I was asking him to do. I wanted the guy dead, and I didn’t care how bloody or horrific it would be. He took my son, and deserved everything he got. For three weeks, I’ve been trying to work out how Louis couldn’t see this. I asked him to be himself.
I’ve not only lost Louis, but Lexi too. She’s made no contact, and my letters have gone unanswered. Every time I’ve called Louis, it sends me straight to voicemail.
He changed me and how I see the world. He believes he’s all bad, but he’s not. He’s certainly… different, but he’s not evil. Regardless of if I ever see him again, I’ll never forget him.
“All done.”
Snapping out of my musings, I hold my wrist up and smile.
It looks good.
“You sure you want two in one sitting?” he enquires.
At my nod, he gets up, stretches, and goes over to his station. Bringing over the stencil, he asks if I’m sure of where I want it. Again, I nod and lift my camisole up over my bra, making sure to keep my breasts covered.
Louis may not want me anymore, but he’s forever in my heart, and forever a part of me.
“Is Louis coming around tonight?”
I sigh wistfully. Every damn day, Thomas asks me if we’re going to see Louis, and every day, I have to let him down.
“Not tonight, sweetheart. I don’t think we’re going to see him anymore. He’s far too busy with work.” The lie tastes awful on my tongue, but I swallow it down and change the subject. “So, what did you learn at school today?”
While I’ve been having nightmares of what happened to him, he’s been absolutely fine. The strange man, as he calls him, played games with him, and fed him McDonalds. I worried it would affect him in the worst way, but I’m glad it hasn’t.
He tells me about reading in front of the class, and how he didn’t mess up once. I smile, and make the right noises as he goes on to tell me about playing with his friends on the playground, but my mind is wandering back to Louis, wondering what he’s doing now?
My wrist and under-boob are beginning to itch under the wrap the tattooist put there, and I wiggle around in an attempt to scratch it. We turn onto our street, and my breath hitches when I see Chaos leaning against Olivia’s car, laughing at something she’s saying as she leans out the window.
Thomas shouts, “Chaos!” and runs to him.
“Hey, man. How was school?”
“Good! Is Louis here?” he asks Chaos.
Chaos looks at me over his head, and I get the hint. Passing the house keys to Thomas, I say, “I told you, Louis is busy. Go let yourself in. There’s an ice-lolly in the freezer with your name on it.”
Hearing there’s a treat, he doesn’t need to be told twice. Once he’s inside and out of earshot, I ask, “What are you doing here? Is Louis okay?”
Has he been in an accident? I can’t imagine why else Chaos would show up at my house.
“No, he’s definitely not okay. He’s a fucking mess. He’s not said a word in the last three weeks. Not unless he’s asking one of us to knock him out because he can’t deal.”
I don’t get it.
“He told me to leave. You were there. You heard it yourself,” I remind him.
“Do you love him?” he asks, his question taking me by surprise.
