The Hearts We Break (The Alphaletes Book 3), page 19
The game ends with a score of 42-17. The Tigers never stood a chance. When the game is called, a few of us speak with some reporters briefly before making our way into the locker rooms. I keep my eyes on Andrews until he disappears into the locker room, not sparing Scar even a single glance.
Good.
I’m buzzing from the adrenaline of the game and the excitement that this wasn’t the end for me, it was only the beginning of something better.
“Guess who’s back? Back again. Slater’s back. Tell a friend!” I sing as I sway into the locker room to the tune of Eminem’s Without Me.
“Guess who’s back, guess who’s back, guess who’s back,” a couple of rookies sing, automatically catching on.
Alright, I like those two. I fist bump them before patting their backs and making my way to the shower. When I pull off my gear, I wince as my pants rub against my hip.
“Oh shit, what happened to you?” Seb asks as he looks at the large deep purple and blue bruise covering my hip.
“Bro, locker room rule number one. Never let your eyes go below the belt. What would Erica say?” I gasp in horror as I cover myself up before I bust up laughing.
Seb just raises an unimpressed eyebrow at me.
“What the fuck is up with you? It’s like I got in a time machine and I’m standing next to twenty-year-old Slater.”
“I fucking feel like twenty-year-old Slater, brother.”
Shaking his head, Seb chuckles under his breath but doesn’t say another word. I know he’s giving me shit and I’m acting crazy, but fuck, I feel good. My knee hasn’t bugged me once all game, my speed was right where it needed to be, and Smith and I seem to have our silent communication down. The kid did great throwing the ball everywhere I was. I feel fucking unstoppable and knowing that Scar was on the sidelines watching every moment of it only pumps up my ego more. You know, showing off for my girl and all that.
When we get home, Scar and I share an Uber and take it back to my place. I don’t know why I even call it my place. At this point, it’s our place. Her apartment is basically just a spot where she keeps her stuff, even though some of it has already started migrating here. I couldn’t tell you the last time she slept there. And all of that is more than fine with me. If I didn’t know her so well, I’d just tell her to move in already, but this is Scar we are talking about. She will want to hold onto her small piece of independence, at least until she feels fully secure in our relationship. The fact she doesn’t feel that way bugs the fuck out of me, but I know she needs time, and even though patience isn’t my strong suit, I’ll give her whatever she wants.
We pretty much pass out once we get through the doors, after she rode my cock of course. Goddamn, have I mentioned how good that girl can ride me because fuck.
Today is our rest day, and I told Scar to make sure she had her schedule clear. We made some breakfast before getting in the car and heading north. Scar has been guessing what we are doing or where we are going for almost an hour now, but there is no way she’s going to guess.
We finally get to our destination as I take a left at the light and turn into one of the makeshift parking lots. Scar’s mouth parts as her eyes widen before she turns to me.
“The Evergreen State Fair?”
“Yup,” I smile.
“Why didn’t we go to the one in Puyallup? It’s a lot closer than…where are we?”
“Monroe. Everyone goes to the Puyallup fair, media included. No one is going to look for a celebrity in this small town,” I shrug as I pay the parking attendant before pulling into an empty spot.
“Okay but why a fair?” Scar laughs as I shut off the car.
“You know I can’t resist the water gun game,” I say with a wink before I step out of the car and walk around to get Scar’s door.
She slips her hand in mine before I pull on my baseball hat and sunglasses, just in case.
“Aww, so you’re taking me on a little fair date?” Scar coos as we make our way to the front gates.
We pay our admission and get wristbands for the rides because Scar can protest all she wants, she’s getting her cute ass on the zipper with me. After we walk around for a bit, we stop over at the food and get a fucking brick of french fries that Scar impressively eats all by herself, a couple of Philly cheesesteaks, and an elephant ear. I tried to warn her that eating that much before the rides was not a good idea, but she insisted that she wasn’t going on any rides so there wasn’t a problem. Silly girl.
“Slater, I’m not getting on that fucking death trap,” she says with her crossed arms as we take a step forward in line.
“Sure you are. You think I bought you the wristband for fun?”
She rolls her eyes as we take another step forward.
“I’ll go on the Ferris Wheel or the teacups. I’m not getting locked into a metal cage and spun around sixty feet in the air. Do you know how many people die on these things every year?” she asks, lowering her voice as she does.
“No,” I draw out with a side eye. “Do you?”
“Well, not an exact number but I’m sure it’s high. One is too many for me. So, have fun gambling with your life,” she says when she gets to the front of the line. “I’ll be waiting over there.”
I smirk at her and shake my head before lifting her over my shoulder as we walk past the operator. He gives us a funny look until I lift my sunglasses off. Recognition fills his eyes as I smirk at him and walk us into the waiting zipper. I place Scar onto the seat before sitting next to her and pulling the bar down. Her head whips over to me, eyes full of panic and anger.
“What the fuck! I said I don’t want to go on this ride, Slater!”
Scar’s voice begins to shake as she white knuckles the bar holding us into place.
“Hey,” I say softly as I lift her chin until she’s looking at me. “I would never let anything hurt you, you have to know that, right?”
“Some things are out of your control, though.”
I shake my head. “Have you met me? I’m Slater fucking Santos. Nothing is out of my control. I’d go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe. I’d destroy anyone who would even dare to raise their voice to you, let alone hurt you. You’re safe with me, Scar. Always.”
“What about you?” she asks softly.
“What about me?”
“What if you hurt me?” she asks before darting her eyes away, like she’s scared to hear the answer. I knew she had some hesitations, and as much as I hate it, I get it. But it’s time that she knows the truth.
Cupping her face with both of my hands, I bring her closer until our noses touch before I speak into her bright eyes.
“I’d tear out my own heart and lay it at your feet before I would ever hurt you. You’re mine, Scar. Always have been, always will be too.”
Her eyes widen as she seems to soak up my words before a soft smile touches her mouth as she nods her understanding. I wish she knew what I would do for her, or even better what I wouldn’t do. That list is much shorter.
The ride begins and she clings to the bar in front of her as her breathing picks up. I lift up my arm in offering and she hurriedly buries herself into my side as she wraps her arms around my waist. I can’t help but chuckle as I hold onto her tighter.
“I got you, baby,” I say against the top of her head before placing a kiss against it.
As soon as the cage starts spinning, Scar lets out a piercing scream that could shatter glass. Her eyes are pinched, body tensed, as she screams like her life depends on it. I hold onto her as we spin, and when we finally stop spinning at the top, I nudge her.
“Look out there.”
She peeks open her eyes and looks through the tiny holes in the metal cage to see the view of the fairgrounds. Her eyes widen in terror as the ride starts up again.
“Why the hell did you tell me to look? Now I know exactly how high we are!”
She starts screaming again, but I don’t know if my ears can handle much more of that, so I slip my hand behind her neck and crush her lips against mine. Unbelievably, she is still able to scream as I kiss her but soon the screams fade into nothing. Her lips move against my own eagerly, like she needs this to survive. That’s perfect because I’m pretty sure I need Scar to survive at this point. I’ve basically never not had her at least in some capacity. Not sure I’d know how to even breathe properly if I was faced with losing her. So I’m more than happy to make sure there will always be a spot for her, right under my arm.
We don’t break the kiss until the ride is over and the cage opens, revealing the late afternoon sun. I’m about to tell the guy to go around again so we can continue, but Scar seems to feel her freedom and flees towards it. Chuckling as I wipe the lip gloss from my lips, I step out behind her and follow after my girl who is running like she’s a cat who just got out of the bath.
When I catch up to her, she’s staring up at The Zipper with an evil glare, like it’s the ride’s fault she was on it in the first place. She glances down at me, her eyes narrowing as she speaks.
“I deserve a funnel cake for going through that hell.”
I do my best to smother my laugh and nod my agreement.
“Yes, you do, baby. Let’s go,” I say as I wrap my arm around her shoulders and walk her to the closest food stand.
For both our sakes.
Scarlett
After I eat my funnel cake, Slater and I are walking through all the vendors when my eyes catch on a henna stand. I can’t help but watch in fascination as the dye is methodically applied to the skin. It’s practically mesmerizing.
“You want one, Bubbles?” Slater asks me as he brings me closer to him and kisses my temple.
I shake my head softly as I continue watching the process.
“Ah, come on. You won’t even get henna? I understand not wanting to get tattoos. I mean, I don’t, but I respect your decision not to. But henna is temporary. I know you don’t want to mark your body but-”
“It’s not that,” I say with a shake of my head. “I just don’t know what I would ever get. I don’t know of anything that is meaningful enough, that I’d never regret, to put onto my skin for the rest of my life, you know?”
Slater nods in thought for a moment as he looks at me.
“What about Mom?”
My stomach balls up at his mention of her. We are coming up on the anniversary of her death and despite that it’s been fourteen years, it still hurts every year.
“What would I get to represent her?” I ask.
Slater’s brows furrow as he thinks for a moment before nodding.
“I got an idea. Trust me?”
I hesitate for a moment.
“Yeah, always.”
He pulls out his phone, quickly typing across the screen before he tugs on me.
“C’mon.”
I follow him wordlessly, knowing that if he wants wherever we are going to be a surprise, then it will be. A short ten-minute drive later, and we are pulling into a parking spot in what looks like the main street in town before I look up at the neon sign in front of me.
“Riverside Tattoos?” I ask as Slater opens my door for me.
Slater nods. “They had really good reviews,” he says as he leads us inside.
There is one guy sitting in a chair to our left getting his forearm tattooed while two other employees are talking at the front desk. They both look up to us before one smiles, clearly in recognition.
“No way. Aren’t you Slater Santos?”
Slater nods modestly. “You guys got any time for two? They’re small pieces.”
“Two?” I question.
He turns to me and smiles.
“If you think I’m gonna just sit here and be jealous while you get ink, then you are mistaken.”
“Fuck yeah, man. Come on back,” the tattoo artist says as he leads us over to the other end of the shop where two chairs are side by side.
I take a seat next to Slater as he holds my shaking hand. Fuck, I’m nervous. Slater said it hurts. I glance over to see Slater talking with the guy next to him as he sketches something on a tablet before showing Slater. He nods before turning to me.
“Want to see?”
I nod as the guy turns the tablet to face me. My throat begins to tighten as I look at the simple tattoo. A teal ribbon, the symbol for ovarian cancer, with a soft cursive date in black ink running down one of the tails with my mother’s death day. A day that is quickly approaching. The fact that Slater even remembers the date by heart speaks volumes to how much she meant to him.
“You don’t usually get colored tattoos, though,” I say as I look down at his black and white full sleeves.
Slater shrugs. “Mom is worth it.”
My heart flutters at that as I nod and squeeze his hand a little tighter.
“Do you know where you want to get yours?”
I shrug. “Back of my neck?”
Slater and the guy both wince and shake their heads.
“For your first tattoo? Don’t recommend it, Bubbles.”
“Okay, then where?”
“Side of your calf? Just above your ankle?” Slater suggests as the tattoo artist nods his agreement.
“Alright. Ink me up,” I say as I roll up my jeans and lean back into the seat.
Slater busts up laughing before leaning over and placing a kiss against my lips.
“I fucking love you.”
“I love you too,” I smile against him.
A soft twinkle takes over his eyes as he gives me one more kiss before taking a seat. The guy Slater was talking to starts prepping my leg, mapping out exactly where I want it as another guy starts doing the same with Slater. Or, trying to. He rolled up his pant leg and told the guy to find an empty spot, which was easier said than done.
The first bite of the needle had my nails digging into the leather armrest underneath me before Slater offered up his hand as sacrifice. Pretty sure he was regretting it a few minutes in as crescent shapes are being etched into his skin from my hold. He’s a good sport about it though as he keeps me talking, telling me about some tattoos that I haven’t seen before because honestly how could I memorize all of them?
“Did you ever get one of Nikki’s name?” I ask.
Not sure why. I guess I’m just curious. I’ve never seen one, and he’s never mentioned one, but he has a tattoo for practically everything. Seriously. He has a tiny Taco Bell logo woven into the pattern over his abs because he was obsessed with it as a kid.
“Fuck no,” Slater laughs as the guy on his leg finishes the shading.
“Why not?”
“Getting anyone’s name tattooed on you, maybe minus your children, is a terrible idea. Even I’m not dumb enough to do that.”
I frown at that. “What do you mean? Don’t a lot of people do that?”
“Yeah, and they regret it,” the guy working on my leg mumbles.
“He’s right,” Slater agrees. “We never know what life can hold for us. One day you think you met the love of your life and are happily married, the next you find out she was a gold digging bitch, who was only after your money,” he scoffs as he looks at me and wiggles his naked ring finger.
“Case and point. If I would have gotten a tattoo symbolizing Nikki or worse, her name, I’d have booked a coverup immediately. You never know what can happen, people change, feelings change. To get them etched into your skin seems like an unnecessary headache. If it doesn’t work out, you’re stuck with the reminder of them, the memory, forever.”
I nod. I never thought about it that way, but it makes sense. I’m glad he never did get anything symbolizing her. I can’t imagine Slater and I making love, only for me to look down at his skin and see another woman’s name on him. Okay, yeah. Him avoiding that was probably the smartest thing he ever did.
“Alright, what do you think?”
I glance down to see the artist holding my leg up slightly so I can see it fully. It looks even better than it did on the tablet and even though teal is probably close to my last choice for colors of tattoos I would have wanted, the fact that it represents my mother’s battle means a lot.
“I love it,” I say softly. “Thank you.”
“Smile,” Slater says before the sound of a camera echoes through the room.
I look up to see Slater grinning with his phone pointed at me.
“I had to get a picture of you officially getting your tattoo cherry popped.”
“Slater,” I scoff on an eye roll before I laugh.
He snickers to himself as his tattoo artist finishes up. They both move to grab what I assume are the supplies to wrap the tattoo when Slater stops them.
“One sec,” he says as he swings his leg over to mine before snapping a picture of them together.
“That better not be going on Instagram, Slater,” I grumble as he begins typing away on his phone.
“You know my agent told me I need to post more things about my personal life on my pages.”
“Yeah, about you, not me. I like my privacy.”
He stops typing as he looks up at me, a serious glint replacing the previously playful one in his dark eyes.
“You are the most important part of my life, the most important part of me. I know that because of your job and mine, it makes things a little difficult at the moment, but make no mistake, I’m the luckiest man in the world, and I’m ready to shout it from the fucking rooftops.”
My stomach flips at his words as I feel my cheeks begin to heat, mainly because I can feel the two tattoo artists’ eyes on us like they aren’t sure if they should stay or go.
“O-okay,” I say.
“Okay?” Slater questions.
I nod. “You can post the picture. Just don’t get me fired.”
Slater rolls his eyes like I’m ridiculous as he continues on his phone.
“We’ve been over this. They won’t fire you, especially if I tell them I’ll walk if they do.”
“You can’t threaten that. You’re in a contract.”
“So? Mikey broke his contract. He paid some fines and said it’s the best decision he ever made for him and his family. If it comes down to football and you, then I choose you. If it comes down to anything and you, it’s always gonna be you.”
