More Than Lies (23 page)

“Maybe because Shawn has proof like he said.” Tara’s voice is raised from the normal soft sounds that usually come from her mouth.

“Butt. Out.” Sabrina grinds her teeth with each word. Her demeanor changes then her eyes roam back to me. “There’s no way you have proof. It’s your word against mine in fact. For all I know, you took that money out just to have a reason to get rid of me. I’ll sue.” The bitch smiles like she has just one-upped me.

“Like hell you will.” Tara is on her feet about to pass me when her words and actions sink in. I reach out, grabbing her by the waist and pull her into my front without thinking it through. My palm sides easily beneath her t-shirt to rest on the skin above the waistband of her blue jeans. I do this to calm her down, to bring her emotions into check, but in doing so, skin-to-skin contact with her has the opposite effect on me. She instantly relaxes against me whereas the muscles in my body are coiling.

“Is that a threat, Taralynn?” Sabrina lifts her torso, straightening her back.

“You’re lucky he isn’t calling the cops and having you arrested for stealing.” She makes an attempt to pull away from me, but I place my free hand on her other hip, keeping it on top of her clothes. No way I could get away with calling the first time a ‘slip of the hand’ if I do it again.

“Again, it’s his word against mine.” This time she crosses her arms across her chest.

“Give it up already.” Adam shakes his head.

“This ends now,” I assert. “You’re fired; end of story. Tara is right. I could easily press charges against you, but I’m willing to let this go, right now, just walk the fuck away because my patience with you is shortening by the second. My suggestion, and I really hope you take it, is to pack whatever shit you have and get out. You won’t get a last paycheck from me; I think you’ve taken enough money already.”

Her mouth falls open.

“I installed security cameras above the register earlier this week. You don’t have a leg to stand on.” Before she utters another word, I decide to provide a bit of caution. “If you speak, if you do anything other than stand and leave, I won’t let this go. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re prosecuted for stealing from this company.”

She hesitates, only for a few seconds, then does exactly what I suggested she should do. She stands and starts to walk out of the door without another word. Before she can make it all the way out I stop her. I shake my head. Did this bitch really think she was that fuckin’ slick? “Don’t you think you have something that belongs to me, Sabrina?” She stumbles and then her body freezes. She looks back at me with hatred in her eyes, they bore into mine, but that’s okay. She obviously isn’t too smart. “I watched you put the deposit bag in your purse before we came back here. Did you honestly think I forgot already? Hand over the money and then GET. THE. FUCK. OUT!” She has fear in her eyes now as she hands over the bag to Adam and then scurries out the door like the pest she is. Finally, the only smart thing this bitch has ever done. She is lucky that little move didn’t warrant a call to the cops. She’s gone and I’m fucking over the whole situation. This is done. It’s over and the company can move on. I can move on and concentrate on everything I need to improve around here.

“I’m outta here, man. See ya both, tomorrow.” Adam sets the bag down on the desk and then follows Sabrina out, leaving Tara and me alone in the office. Her back is still pressed against my chest. My hand is still on her skin and I have no idea how to alleviate a situation that is now awkward.

It would be so easy to slide my hand up to cup her breast. I still remember what they felt like when I did it in Mac’s office. Her skin is soft, like velvet and her tits are firm and fuck, I have to get her away from me right now or she’s going to feel something pressed against her ass that she shouldn’t.

I rip my hand out from under her clothes and push her away with my other hand.

“I need to…I have a client waiting…probably. See ya, later.” I’m sure I do, maybe, hell I don’t know, I can’t think and I need to get away from her and away from the way she smells like things I want to taste.

I walk away leaving her in the office.

Shit, I need to get laid.

After the fallout at the studio last week, I didn’t think today would ever get here. Not only did Sabrina get fired for stealing, but Tyler and Hunter got canned a few days ago too. Apparently, all three of them were in on it and were splitting the money.

What a flippin’ shame.

Hunter had an attitude problem, sure, and he lacked a decent work ethic, but the guy could tattoo beautifully. I don’t get it. If it was about the money, all he had to do was work harder. He never had a full schedule. He might do two or three tattoos in a day. Hunter’s always drawn them out. A simple, one-hour design would take him three times as long to finish than anyone else.

As much as I don’t want to see anyone lose their job, Adam should have let Tyler go a long time ago. He didn’t work out as a tattoo artist. Then he was given a position as a piercer. Not that I want any other piercings than in my ears, but if I did, I’d never let Tyler touch my flesh.

I interviewed a guy for Adam a while back, but he didn’t show up with a portfolio that would have given me a glimpse at what he would bring to the studio. I’m still learning the ins and outs of the tattoo world, but one thing I know for sure because I’ve not only heard it said from Shawn, but from my brother’s buddy, Chance Manning, too, is that an artist, a real artist that’s serious about his or her profession would never show up without a display of their previous work. If you take pride in something, you show it.

“Taralynn.” My dad’s whisper of my name brings me out of my thoughts as he enters my bedroom. I’m not asleep, obviously, but he doesn’t know that. Its Christmas morning, early, real early, and I’m lying in my bed at my parents’ house. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

I’ve been waiting on his arrival for half an hour. We have a tradition and one I look forward to every year. Since I was a little kid, he’s always woken me up before anyone else gets up to give me a Christmas present that’s just from him and him alone. It’s our secret. I’ve never breath a word of this even to my brother. I don’t know why my dad does this and I’ve never asked. Once a year, every Christmas morning between three and four I get my daddy the way I’ve always wanted him. Needed him. In these moments, I feel like a kid loved.

“I’m awake, Daddy.” This is another rare moment when I call him that particular word. It’s usually Dad. At least it is in front of my mother. Her rule.

He sits down on the edge of my bed. I rise, pulling myself into a sitting position. He’s holding a box. It’s resting on his leg. I can see the outlines of the sharpness in the dark. Excitement spurs within me making me feel like a small child.

He reaches over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp. Luckily it’s low lighting so the brightness doesn’t sting my eyes.

“Merry Christmas, baby girl.” He places the wrapped present onto my lap.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” I smile, looking at him expectantly. He knows what’s coming. I can’t help myself. “What is it?” I’m way to giddy for a twenty-one year old, but I don’t give a crap.

“Child, every year since you learned to speak, you’ve asked that same question.” He laughs lightly. “I’ve never told you before and I’m not telling you now. Open it, Taralynn, if you want to find out.”

It’s heavy and several inches thick. When I pick it up, it feels solid so I give it a shake. Nothing rattles. My dad laughs again. The wrapping paper is the same every year. Santa Claus. I don’t know where or how he manages to pull that one off, but he does. I lay it back on my lap and proceed to tear into it, quickly learning that it isn’t a present inside a box. The present itself is wrapped. It’s a book and a thick book at that. Flipping it over to the front, I read the title. It’s a thesaurus for writers.

I’m floored maybe even shocked. I was not expecting him to give me something like this. I look up confused. Not because I don’t like it and not because I’m ungrateful. I’m both. In fact, I think I love this. It’s the best gift he’s ever given me, but coming from him it doesn’t make sense.

“You don’t like it?” His question is full of disappointment. That’s the last thing I want my dad to feel so I quickly dispel that assumption.

“Yes, sir, I like it a lot; a lot a lot even. It’s just…I don’t get why you would give me something like this. I’m confused, but I love it.”

“Confused how? You love to write so I thought it would be something useful for you.”

“It is. It will be very useful, but you hate that I want to be a writer.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t hate it. You enjoy it and I get that, but I’m your dad. I want what’s best for you. I know you don’t like having been forced to graduate with two majors, but it’s my job to make sure if one option doesn’t pan out that you’ll have a second option to pursue.”

“That doesn’t make any sense to me. And it’s contradicting the ultimatum you gave me just a week ago.” Why would he have her tell me I have to give up writing and settle down if he doesn’t disagree with my passion to write?

“What are you talking about? I haven’t given you any sort of ultimatum. Ever.”

“That not true.” My voice falters allowing the hurt inside to filter out. “Mother said that if I don’t give up writing after graduation and marry someone worthy of this family that I wouldn’t be a welcome member of it any longer.” Who does that to their children? Aren’t you supposed to love them unconditionally? Accept them for who they are, the good and the bad?

He stares at me. It’s as though I’ve rendered Jacob Evans speechless.

I haven’t given any thought to what my mother said after I told Shawn. I wouldn’t allow myself to dwell on it; I knew the moment I did, the emotions would overcome me. I was right. The tears come and fall from my eyes before I’m able to keep them at bay. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to cry in from of him. I didn’t want to ruin the one moment I get to enjoy my dad the way I’ve always dreamed.

I turn my face to look away, but he grabs my jaw firmly between his thumb and index fingers pulling my head back around to face him. He’s angry.

“Let’s get one thing straight right now.” His normal light blue eyes are dark. Almost scary looking as they bore into mine. “Nod so that I know you’re not only going to listen, but you’re going to really hear what I say.” I do as he says, nodding my head. “The moment you were conceived you were my daughter. You became a part of me for forever in that moment and you’ll always be not just my daughter, but as much a part of this family as anyone else in it. Am I clear on that, Taralynn?”

“Yes, sir, but she said—” He cuts me off before I restate my mother’s words to me last week.

“Katherine does not speak for me. She should not have said what she said to you and I’ll address that with her.” He releases my jaw only to place his palm gently around the back of my head. Leaning forward, my dad plants a softs kiss on my forehead. It’s sweet and something he hasn’t done in years. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry I’m not the father you need nor the father you’ve always deserved.”

“Don’t say that.” I feel awful hearing those words come from his mouth. Not because it isn’t true. As much as I don’t want to face that reality, it is true, but I didn’t think for a minute that he thought he was a bad dad.

“Don’t state a fact?” He raises an eyebrow. “Taralynn, I know I’ve been less than a father to you your whole life. I don’t have an excuse. Do I have my reasons, sure, but that doesn’t make them right. And I’m sorry for that. More than you know. One day.” He pauses then looks up toward the ceiling as if to gain control. Of what, I’m not sure. “One day I’ll tell you. I owe you an explanation for so much. It just won’t be today, but don’t ever think you don’t belong here; that you don’t belong in this family. You do more so than others in fact. You’re an Evans by blood. For me, blood is everything and all that matters…now. Go to sleep sweet girl. Katherine will want everyone awake in a few hours.”

He stands, turns, and then walks to my door to leave.

“Daddy,” I call out. He turns to look back at me as he opens the door. I raise the book off my lap. “It’s pretty awesome. Thanks.”

“You’re pretty awesome, daughter. That’s just a book, but I’m glad you like it. See you in a little while.”

He leaves and I’m left thinking about his words.

Blood is everything and all that matters…now.

My mother isn’t blood.

He made it sounds as though he loves his children more than his wife, but is that true? I don’t know and I don’t want to contemplate it. I’ll never come up with an answer.

After I place the book on the knight stand, I scoot my body down the bed and pull the cover up. I am tired and sleep would be nice.

So that’s what I do.

I sleep and sleep well up until I hear that harsh voice I’ve dreaded since I left Pam and Bill’s on Christmas Eve night.