Chapter 2
Mitch
Iwatched as the cute blonde waggled her hips in her low-rise jeans as she walked out of the tattoo shop.
Dammit.
Another fucking blonde.
Will I ever fucking learn?
They were definitely my biggest weakness, and she hit my type to a fucking T: short, blonde, sassy, fit. Add in the fact that she was inked and I may as well have dropped to one fucking knee right on the damn spot.
“So, dude, what were you thinking about getting done?”
I noticed Larry’s beard was graying around his mouth and close to his ears, and I stared at his crow’s feet for a second while I tried to figure out the best way to explain how I wanted to memorialize my entire world shifting on its axis.
I rolled up the left side of my Salt Life shirt to revealhername. Big scrolling letters in purple ink blared up at me, burning my retinas like the sun glaring off the water had on the morning she packed up her shit and left me for her fucking rocker dreamboat.
Never again.
“An ex?” he asked with a stoic timber.
I nodded, ripping my eyes from staring atCaliforniarunning down my side. “I need this gone like yesterday.”
“Who names their kid California anyway?” Larry rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself.
I shrugged. “Damn idiots, I’m pretty sure.”
Larry stared at my side and pulled out some tracing paper. “I’m going to sketch this and take a few pictures.”
“Go for it, dude. She needs to be in the fucking past. I was thinking a phoenix, or something like that. Full, bright colors, huge—whatever you have to do.”
I took a few shallow breaths in and out, standing in the middle of the shop like a fucking goober, holding up my shirt while Larry did his thing. I couldn’t believe that I had been that dumb to get Cali’s name tattooed on me, but at the end of the day I just blamed it on the fact that love makes people do some crazy ass things from time to time.
It only took a few minutes then an appointment was made, numbers were exchanged, and I was loose in a city I didn’t know one person in. I didn’t even really know how to get around.
It had been well over a year and a half since Cali ran out on me. I had sold our house, tried to move on but nothing seemed to really be panning out for me in Florida. I needed a radical change and getting the heck out of dodge seemed like the only way to do it. Onto bigger and better things, or so I had to hope.
St. Louis hadn’t been my first choice by any means, but it had been the first place to accept my application, and I was gone before I could talk myself out of it.
Cali was on the road with Maverick and his band The Hysterics, Walker and Mags were brand-new parents, my dad was starting a new relationship and finally getting over his cheating whore of an ex-wife, and I was in limbo, barely treading water.
Such is life.
Everyone else was getting a new start, I figured it was time that I took the bull by the horns and make some moves of my own for once.
“Cali!You better pick up your damn phone!” I yelled as I left the fifth message, each one escalating in anger and volume.
I stood in the middle of our oversized closet, huffing as I stared at all of her empty hangers lining the left side.
Finally, my phone rang. My heart thumped in my ears. My hands shook.
“Hey.” She sighed.
“Hey? That’s all I fucking get is a damn ‘hey’?” I roared, rage boiling my blood. “What the fuck is going on, Cali?”
“It hasn’t been working out for a while. I haven’t been happy for a while.” I could hear her sniffling.