Bad Vibes (Inkspirationz Book 1) Page 5

  Nodding in the dark, she says, “I do,” and the words pull at my heart strings even more. This poor girl lost her fiancée the morning they mailed out their wedding invitations. How does something like that happen? They had everything going for them and then poof, it’s gone.

  Lying here after the day I’ve had my eyes quickly begin to roll as my exhaustion threatens to pull me under. “I better get up and do those dishes before I pass out,” I groan, as my responsibilities call out to me. “If I’m not back in ten days send a search party,” I chuckle, using a line from the movie.

  “Will do,” Mira chuckles, as I slip from the room.

  Shuffling down the stairs the last thing I want to be doing is dishes, but our roommate agreement was we’d alternate between chores, including the role as caregiver slash babysitter for my son. Approaching the kitchen sink, the low-lit kitchen causes a reflection on the window, revealing my tired appearance, thanks for the reminder. Mindlessly starting the dish water, I begin filling the sink with dirty dishes as the photo of Brody and my dad sticks in the forefront of my mind. How well does Brody know my dad? I mumble in a daze. What could he possibly have to talk to me about? I worry as I move on to another dish. Is he going to lie to me about my father, too? I sigh, “or is he one of the ones I can trust like Hondo? I ask my reflection as I place another dish into the drainer. Guess I’ll find out if he comes into the shop tomorrow.

  Finished with the load, I dry my hands on a towel and then shuffle out of the kitchen and back upstairs. At the top I can still hear Mira watching Casper as my eyes wander towards Izzy’s open door. Guess she’s back at the races. I mumble, as the sight of her vacant room stares back at me. Wondering quietly down the hall, I stop in to peek on Jacob just to be sure he’s still asleep. Smiling with pride to see him happy and content, I slowly back out.

  Softly walking past Mira’s room, I duck into the bathroom intent on soaking in the tub for at least the next forty-five minutes. Leaving the door ajar so I can still listen for Jacob, I place the plug in the bottom of the tub as I crank the hot water as high as it can go. Staring at my reflection in the mirror I start by removing my makeup and letting down my hair. It’s been a long week, I tell myself, as the last of my hair tumbles free, it’s bound to get even longer tomorrow when Brody shows up. If he shows up, I mutter under my breath.

  Removing the last of my clothes, I step into the perfectly heated tub as I collect my hair on top of my head. The last thing I want to do is blow dry it before bed. Moving further into the tub, my body slowly begins to relax as the hot water works to soothe my tired neck and shoulders. Allowing my heavy eyelids to close on their own my thoughts carry me into the past.

  Chicago, December 2015

  Approaching the music studio, I try calling my dad again before heading in, but his phone keeps going to voicemail. That’s unusual, I worry but there’s no time to dwell on it. Turning off my phone, I tuck into my back pocket and then kick up my board before heading inside.

  As the heavy door closes behind me it takes several minutes before my eyes adjust to the light. Seeing things clearly, I find myself surrounded by framed records on either side of the hall. Memorized by the credentials I approach the dolled-up blonde behind the desk. “Excuse me,” I barely whisper.

  “Yes dear?”

  “Um I’m here to see Mr. Malone.” I speak up.

  Quirking her brow, I notice the way she takes in my dark hair, my denim cut-offs and band tee, “Are you sure you’re in the right place dear?”

  “Yes ma’am.” I nod, as she rolls her eyes with disapproval.

  “Just let me check on that, alright?”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “Do you mind waiting in the waiting room?”

  “Right,” I nod pointing towards the couches. “Over there?”

  “That would be the one,” she replies, with annoyance as I press my lips together before I say something that will ruin this. ruined a good thing.

  Putting distance between myself and the judgemental blonde behind the counter, I plop down into a white leather couch that creaks beneath me. Strumming my fingers on the coffee table in front of me, the judgemental blonde approaches with, “Scarlett Voight?”

  “That’s me,” I reply, pushing to my feet.

  “Mr. Malone will see you now.” She offers, finally greeting me with respect.

  “You didn’t tell me you’ve met with Mr. Malone before,” she says over her shoulder as she struts us down the hall.

  “I didn’t realize that was important.” I offer, snickering under my breath.

  “You know we don’t get too many repeat auditions around here,” she adds, leading us down a winding hall. “You must be pretty good if they’re setting up the stage for you.”

  “I’m performing on a stage this time around?”

  “That’s what I have here.”

  You can do this Scarlett.

  “Are you alright dear?”

  “Mmmhmm,” I nod.

  Entering the concert hall, we enter a room filled with empty concert seats in front of a huge stage. “What do you think?” The blonde asks, as she leads the way towards the stage.

  “Scarlett,” Mr. Malone, sings, opening his arms to me.

  Walking straight into them, I reply, “Hey Mal,” as he embraces me.

  “Where’s daddy-o?” He asks.

  “He had Club business,” I shrug as we climb the stage steps.

  “Did your mom bring you?” He presses, clearly concerned about my parent’s whereabouts.

  “Nah, she was busy with Kurt.” I lie. “I boarded here.” I offer, motioning towards my board.

  Approaching the crew, he says, “You should have called me. I would have sent someone to come get you.”

  “It’s really no trouble.”

  “That’s fine for now but when you’re a star you’ve got to promise me, you’ll have someone pick you up.”

  “Fine,” I relent.

  “Alright crew this Scarlett Voight, our talent for the afternoon.” Mal explains, as everyone around us either nods or voices their welcome before they continue with what they were doing.

  Once the stage is set, I begin to sing. At first, I’m a bundle of nerves, which makes it hard for me to belt out the lyrics the way they’re meant to be sang, but eventually those nerves wear off. After the first half of the set, the judgemental blonde rushes in. “Mr. Malone, Sir,” she starts approaching us in a panic. “There’s some bikers out front looking for Miss. Voight.” She huffs.

  Turning towards the entrance I see Hondo standing in the doorway, no. I shake my head fearing the worst as my hand comes up to cover my mouth. Not daddy. “Baby girl,” Hondo whispers, as I take off into his arms.

  “Not daddy,” I cry, as Hondo’s strong arms wrap around me.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl.” He whispers into my hair as I let out all my emotions.

  Chapter 7

  Scarlett

  Toronto, October 2019

  Awaking to the sound of Mira’s alarm, I can’t help but lay here staring at the ceiling as I willed my tired body to get up. Jacob will be up any minute. I realize, rolling towards my phone that on the night stand beside me. What’s on the books for today? I yawn, reaching across the table. Picking up my phone, I swipe to the right and punch in Jacobs birthday as the code. Bringing up my schedule, I see have nothing booked until eleven. Plenty of time to get Jacob ready and Kurt out of bed.

  Tossing my sheets aside, I get out of bed and enter the hall. Moving towards Jacob’s room, I barely had to peak inside to see he’s still sleeping. It’s best to let him wake on his own. I back away, nobody wants a cranky Jacob on our hands.

  Moving past Izzy’s door, I notice it’s now closed. Did she even come home after the races last night or did Mira just close her door? Approaching the stairs, I head down, rounding the banister at the bottom. Walking through the hallway, I enter the kitchen, immediately beelining it for the Folgers in the fridge where Izzy keeps it. Yanking
on the door, I reach inside for the big drum like container of pure morning magic. Nothing like Folgers in your cup, I hum to myself as I place the filter in the machine. Adding enough grounds for the three of us I glance towards the clock on the stove. Better get Kurt up. I yawn again.

  Entering the basement, I find my brother lying across his bed with his both his arms and legs thrown in opposite directions. I can’t remember the last time I slept that way. I chuckle. Pausing to see what he’s done with his space of the house; my eyes skim the room. His double lay under the window with his black curtains drawn tight, since he now works nights. Beside his bed sits a worn end table with a lamp and the latest King novel on top, he always did like to read.

  Stepping on to the landing, I able to see Kurt’s even painted down here. Before the room was white but now it’s a matte gray with band posters plastered up. Turning towards his dress which rests on the opposite wall from his end table, I notice how tidy it looks, even the drawers are closed, instead of overflowing with clothes like you’d expect from a nineteen-year-old. “Hey Kurt,” I call out, tapping his foot.

  “Mmmhmm,” he groans turning away from me.

  “You’ve got to get up.” I explain, tapping his foot again for encouragement.

  Grumbling, he mashes his palm into his eye, “Why?”

  “Mira’s got a few clients booked in for today and Izzy’s been at the races all night so you’re on Jacob duty today.”

  Perking up at the mention of his nephew, he drags his hand through his dirty blonde hair with a, “Where is little J?”

  “Still sleeping.” I offer, as my eyes land on a set of weights. When did he start lifting weights?

  “Seriously? What time is it?”

  “Almost eight.”

  “Ugh,” he groans, flopping back down. “What time do you have to leave?”

  “Mira and I have to leave here no later than quarter to nine.” I advise, grabbing at his foot on my way out.

  “Ah, get out here with that,” he laughs, shaking his ticklish foot free.

  “I’ll call you again in twenty-minutes, k?”

  “Sounds good,” he trails off, no doubt already falling back asleep.

  Shaking my head with a smile, I can’t deny how much I appreciate my brother sticking it out with me over the years. He may only be two years younger than I, but it’s apparent he’s come into adulthood quiet nicely, considering I was the one who raised him.

  Heading back up stairs I close his door at the top to find Mira now standing in the kitchen with Jacob. “Hey baby, when did you wake up?”

  “Right around the time the coffee starting brewing,” Mira chimes, extending a hot cup my way.

  “Thanks, M.” I smile, before taking my first sip. Heavenly, I purr as the caffeine enters my system. “How about pancakes for breakfast?” I suggest, as my son claps his enthusiasm. “Guess pancakes are a win.”

  Cradling her own cup of coffee, Mira asks, “Do you need anything?”

  “Nah, you go on ahead and get ready. I don’t have anyone on the books until eleven this morning so I can afford to be late if need be.” I offer, waving her off. She already cares for Jacob way more than I’ve ever intended for her too, honestly, they all do. I worry, as my eyes fall to my son. Am I doing everything I can for him? I watch him smile. He’s happy at least. That’s got to be good for something, doesn’t it?

  “Morning’ buddy,” my brother sings, approaching Jacob’s highchair.

  “Urt,” Jacob speaks up, still not landing the K as he reaches for his uncle.

  “You’ve got to stay put for now if you want breakfast buddy, but we have all day to hang out.”

  “What do you have planned for the day?” I ask, over my shoulder while I’m mixing the ingredients for the pancakes.

  “I don’t know,” he shrugs moving to the cupboard for a mug. “I was thinking I might take him by the pet store to play with the puppies that came in the other day and then maybe spend some time at the park.” He offers, filling his cup.

  “Did you work late last night?” I ask, as he inhales the steam off his cup.

  “Until two.”

  “How are you liking the Pizza delivery lifestyle?” I chuckle, even though I couldn’t be prouder that he sought a job on his own. I love how my brother automatically takes the lead without having to be asked, that certainly wasn’t normal nineteen-year-old behavior if you asked me. Yet again I was mature at his age, or at least I’d like to think I was.

  Shrugging into his mug, he says, “Pays the bills for now.”

  “Can’t complain about that now can we.” I chuckle, with a pat to his shoulder. When did he outgrow me? I ask, as we shuffle around the kitchen. For being only a few years younger he certainly shot up like a frickin’ brick house since we moved here. I wonder if it has anything to do with those weights in the basement? “Way to outgrow me,” I laugh, as he towers over my five-foot frame.

  “Jealous,” he mumbles into his mug as I playfully try to shove him.

  “Hardly.” I chuckle, as he digs in his heels.

  “You can’t move me,” he mocks, knowing his right.

  “Whatever, you big ass,” I snicker, hip checking him one last time for good measure. “Do you want some?” I ask, motioning towards the bowl of pancake batter.

  “You mean you weren’t making us all breakfast?” he plays along.

  “I guess I kind of am, aren’t I?”

  “She kind of is, isn’t she buddy,” Kurt addresses Jacob.

  Shouting his agreement, Jacob says, “Breakmist.”

  “You mean, breakfast.” I correct. Whipping up the first batch, Jacob begins to cry impatiently from his high chair. “Just a minute baby they’re hot.” I explain, while slipping a few stacks on a plate and placing them in the freezer to cool a little faster. “Do you want some milk while you wait?” I ask, hoping to divert his attention.

  “Ilk,” he chants, and I swear I’ll never get tired of hearing his cute little words.

  Filling his sippy cup to the halfway mark, I place it in his chubby little hands. “There you go.” I encourage, as I make my way back to the freezer to check on the pancakes. Breaking the cakes apart they’re just cool enough for him to eat. “Do you want some bananas too?” I ask, doing my best to make sure he eats healthy.

  “Nana’s,” he claps.

  “Your favourite.” I sing, while cutting his banana overtop of his warm pancakes.

  ‘“Nom,” he says, as his chubby little hands reach for the pieces.

  “Look at you eating like a big boy,” my brother encourages, as we sit around the table. Looking at this picture of us from the outside we may not be your traditional family, but we’re a family all the same.

  “Earth to Scar.”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Go get ready for work.” He suggests. “I’ve got it from here.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask, between bites.

  “Just go,” he urges, spinning me out of the kitchen.

  “Don’t leave before I’ve had the chance to kiss him goodbye, okay.”

  “Geeze mom pull back a little,” he teases in a brotherly tone. “I’m kidding. I’ll make sure we don’t leave before you get your kiss okay?”

  “You better not,” I advise poking him in the chest for emphasis.

  Within an hour or more, both Mira and I are on our way towards the studio with our coffees in one hand and a smoke in the other, at least a smoke in mine. “What’s on the books for you today?” Mira asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I have a silly couple tattoo booked around eleven.”

  “Oh yeah, what are they getting?”

  “Game controllers,” I smirk, knowing that’s exactly the type of tattoo I’d get with someone.

  “Cute,” she smiles nudging me. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

  “Why does everyone think that?”

  “Because you’ve got that look that says you have someone on your mind.” Mira expresses, with a little
dance.

  Rolling my eyes, with a chuckle, I mumble, “Whatever.” But she’s right.

  “So, you are,” she wiggles her brows.

  Worried that this might be too much, I’d like to know Mira’s unbiased opinion. “Can you give me your honest opinion for a second?”

  “Of course, I can Scar.”

  “What are your thoughts about all this?”

  “Honestly?” her brow scrunches. “I’d say go for it,” her tone turns sad, and I know she’s thinking about Adam. “But be careful okay Hun,” she pulls me in for a side hug. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” She squeezes me a little tighter for emphasis.

  “I don’t like seeing me hurt either.” I chuckle in hopes of breaking the tension.

  “Oh, you ass.” She plays along.

  “But seriously though Mira. I’ll be careful, okay.”

  “Okay.” She nods.

  Entering the studio, we both go through the motions of opening for the day. Flipping on all the lights, I make my way towards the stereo first, cranking the first playlist I can get my hands on, no matter what it is.

  Sweeping, then mopping, Mira and I finally take a moment to breathe while I step out for a smoke. “Someone’s watching the door like a hawk.” Mira says, with a wide grin.

  “Am not.” I lie. “I’m just keeping a look out for your client.”

  “Don’t bother,” she mumbles, dropping down beside me. “They just canceled.”

  “Seriously? You spent so much time on the design.”

  “I know,” she pouts. “I was looking forward to the piece too.”

  “Did they reschedule their session for a later date?”

  “Not this time.” She whispers, expressing her disappointment. “At least I got the deposit first.”

  “Guess it’s not a complete loss then.” I offer.