Tattoo Kiss x by Sarah Brown

Author:Sarah Brown [Brown , Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sarah Brown
Published: 2022-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

Jack

October 17th, six years ago

“Yo, Jackson, head in the game, man. We’re on in five.”

I bite and peel at the dry skin on my lip and check my phone once more, my fingers already hot to the touch after anxiously playing chords on the frets for the past hour.

Peter said I would burn clean through the strings before we even started our set.

Nothing. No missed calls or messages. But I just ken.

I have a feeling tonight.

Don’t ken how, but I ken something will happen. Something big.

She told me she’d call. Promised. I still left her place unconvinced, that rainy October Tuesday.

Haven’t seen her since, but I tried as best I could. Didn’t answer my calls.

No clue why.

Olivia had rolled her green eyes at me as I cooked her my best, insisted she stay on the couch and watch her favorite shows while I did it all.

“Mon amour, you don’t need to try so hard.” Her sweet lilt annoyed me at how careless she had been.

Looking at her pantry, I wasn’t sure how much she’d eaten the past few weeks. It had been a while on the road with the lads. My first trip was to the doctor with her, I insisted.

Since coming into my life again, six months pregnant, Olivia had acted as if it was a bother to have me along. As if she’d rather do it all herself, like the mystery she’s always been to me.

Finally, at my pushing and pursuing and showing up on her doorstep with bags of groceries from the market, she let me make her dinner.

I made about every kind of vegetable imaginable, lots of recipes from Mam that I had as a child. I didn’t ken what she’d like, but I’d read a lot. The baby would need only the best. At least while I was there, I’d make sure of it.

A dinner of fresh trout, steamed sweet potatoes, and kale and other root vegetables to settle her stomach. Not that she complained much. As a mother-to-be, she hadn’t told me much of anything symptom-wise. But she looked pale around certain things.

Her normally bronzed and rosy face would go absolutely green if she smelled chicken being cooked. Or grass being cut. Thankfully, there wasn’t much of that in the city of Edinburgh.

Other smells would trigger her, too. Cigarettes, for one. I stopped altogether and went through a bitch of a withdrawal.

I made her cross the road with me that Sunday when we were out at the shops, and someone had lit one up near us.

Christ, I’d even turn down the volume on the telly when someone cursed. I ken babies could hear even before they were born. Pulp Fiction was a no-go, although that was her favorite. Okay, maybe it was overkill, but still…didn’t feel right to hear “motherfucker” this and that every few words.

I felt helpless when Olivia started early contractions and could only sit through them and suck through her teeth at the pain, so I’d play guitar. I’d bring my shiny acoustic guitar I’d named Baby close to the bump that held my own and sing.

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