Carly grabs his hand. “But you won’t.”
“And it’s not in a book. It was done freehand, his design.”
“No shit?” Xavier pushes into the tiny room. “Lemme see that.”
“You kidding me, X?” Dad snaps.
“No, not at all.” He laughs then looks at my reflection as I spit the rest of the paste out in the sink. “You mind?”
Sucking the water off my toothbrush, I lift the back of my shirt.
“Damn.” Xavier nods then looks up. “Looks …” He stops and laughs. “Free hand?”
I nod as I wipe my mouth.
Zandor leans in and laughs. “He may be better than—”
“Watch it, asshole,” Dad snaps.
Zandor laughs. “Check the ego. I was talking about Cyrus.”
Well, his son sure caught the bug, I think.
“You ever miss it?” Tara asks Cyrus, I’m assuming.
“Every day,” Cyrus states. Then he leans in the doorway and looks at my back. “You like this guy, Bella?”
For four hours, I liked him a lot.
“I did.”
“And now you don’t?” He asks confused.
I don’t even know his name. I laugh at how pathetic that sounds even in my own head. But I’m playing a game, so I shrug as I start to wash the spot on my back where he now resides permanently.
“Easy, Bella.” Dad sighs, taking the damp cloth from me and gently swiping over it.
Now I want to cry.
“You need to let this heal, then I’ll fix it.”
Silence hangs over us like a lead balloon.
I look in the mirror at everyone’s shocked expressions.
“She is, dot, dot, dot—like the others—then me, not mine, that good?” His eyes meet mine as he reaches over and grabs the ointment, and I nod. “Gonna have to carry it for a few months, then I fix it.”
A tear falls down my face as he turns me around.
“No decorating, Bella. That last D is the one that tends to leave the biggest mark.”
You’re not kidding, I think.
“I should have done it when you asked. I’ll bear the burden, but you don’t do that shit again.”
“You’re not the easiest person to talk to.”
“I get that.” He hugs me. “This doesn’t mean I’m not pissed, Little Bell.”
And I get that, I think.
“I’m tired.” I step back.
He looks me over and nods. “We can talk tomorrow.”
“About what?” I shake my head.
“About the assholes I need to fuck up who touched you.”
“Dad, really? I thought—”
“I’m your father,” he says sternly.
“And I’m your daughter,” I retort just as sternly.
“And good luck to both of you.” Momma Joe laughs from outside.
Nine
New Position
Bella
The last day of our trip, I avoided everyone by faking sick. I wasn’t physically, but emotionally, I was a ball of stress. The plane ride home, I did the same thing. Have been for a couple days. And now, as I lie in my bed, I feel even worse.
When someone knocks on the door then opens it, I roll to my side so that my back faces them.
“Hey, you.” It’s Carly. “Are you feeling any better?”
I sit up and turn toward her. “I’m fine.”
She sits down and hands me a plate with a sandwich on it.
I take the plate. “Thanks, Momma Carly.”
“You’re upset and avoiding your father. You’re not too young to hear this. He and I had a rough start. I feel your pain Bella. I’m hear if you need a nonjudgmental ear.”
“I’m avoiding him because I really don’t like disappointing him, but also because I want to karate kick him off that high horse of his.”
“I un—”
“And I don’t want to karate kick him because you two are going to have your hands full with Kiki and Max.”
She sighs. “Oh, we already do.”
“Like seriously—”
“We heard what you said to all of them. Not the whispered part, but the part where you yelled at them.” She smirks. “God, I wish I knew the rest, but I understand there are things you just don’t tell your parents and, contrary to what your father thinks, it’s not some new age bullshit. It’s part of growing up.”
“I’m aware it’s not new age bullshit, Carly.”
I look at Dad as he walks in. He sits on the bed and reaches for the other half of my sandwich.
Carly bats his hand away. “You ate.”
“Baby, I will paddle your ass if you do that shit again,” he replies jokingly, leaning against the headboard, and then he looks at me. “I’m proud of you, Bella, but that ink pisses me off.”
“Everything pisses you off,” I say with my mouth full to drive the point home. He doesn’t like us talking with our mouths full.
He clenches his jaw, ensuring he doesn’t give me any more ammunition.
“I’m a grown woman.”
“Still my little Bell. The same girl—”
“Please don’t.”
He huffs and runs his hand through his hair. “That’s who you are to me and always will be.”
“And you’re always going to be my dad, but seriously, your job is done. You did good, if I dare say so myself.”
He smirks, trying to hide it by running his hand over his face. Then he looks at me. “A father’s job is never done. And some punk—”
“My choice,” I half-lie.
We stare at one another.
“If I ever need you to kick an ass, I’ll let you know.”
“Dad!” Max yells. “Dad!”
I smile. “Max needs you.”
“Max needs an ass kicking.” He smirks.
“DAD!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbles as he pushes himself off my bed, leans down, and kisses my forehead. “We’d planned two days at the beach, but you can’t go in the water for two weeks. It’s an open wound, Bella.”
“We can still go to the beach; I just can’t go in the water.”
He nods once. “We can hit Wildwood instead. Ride some rides.”
“I’m good with the beach.”
“You sure?” Carly asks.
“Of course.”
“Then Monday, it’s Steel Inc. And for real this time, no internship.”
I nod because that’s a fight for another day.
Lying on my stomach under the cabana that Dad rented, my phone rings.
I lift it and look at the screen. I can’t really see it because of the sun’s glare, but I hit accept anyway.
“Hello?”
“Isabella Steel?”
“This is she.”
“This is David Gorgon, executive producer of 50 Shades of Ink.”
I can’t help chuckling at the name of the show and how everyone seems to feed off E.L. James’s success from the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy. I hope she gets royalties from all of those who do.