Page 14 of Tattooed Love

I unlocked my phone and scrolled down to Blake’s number.

My off again, on again, boyfriend, Blake and I, had seen more drama than most couples on daytime television.

I hadn’t talked to him in over a week; since he’d hit me, andI had got so wasted, I had ended up at some bar - I still don’t know how I’d got home that night, but I’d woken up in bed next to Blake who went on and on about how sorry he was for hitting me.

I’d left after that, and hadn’t spoken to him.

I think he took my silence as me breaking it off with him.

I knew I shouldn’t even be thinking about calling him, but he was once sweet and charming, and I loved him. Love can make you do crazy things, like it was making me do now.

Now, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him, but I knew he was one of the few people who could cheer me up right now.

I sat down in the middle of the staircase, and dialed.

I really hoped that it wasn’t going to be too weird.

Ringing.

Ringing.

Ringing.

“Hello” said a husky voice.

Aww Blake… how I had missed your voice.

I smiled, just a little. He really did bring out the girl in me.

“Hey Blake, it’s ummm Amber,”

“Amber.” I could hear his voice brighten. “What you been doing babe? I haven’t seen you in a while.” Yeah, well I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see you again.”I spoke the truth. After that fight, I wasn’t sure if we could come back from it.

But the gang was family, and you don’t walk away from family, unless it’s my blood family and, in that case, you run as far as you can to get away from them.

Blake went silent. I’m sorry about…” He started, but I was quick to cut him off.

“Don’t say sorry. Anyway, I didn’t call to fight.” I didn’t need to hear him say sorry. I knew he was sorry as soon as his fist had connected with my face.

I heard him sigh.

“So, why did you call?” he sounded disappointed.

“To see if you wanted to do something tonight? Or if you were doing anything?”

“Oh, well I am just at home with the guys. We are pre-gaming and then heading to this party. Wanna come babe?’ He sounded almost happy, but we both knew that only a high on drugs and money gave him real happiness.

“Sure, so I’ll come to your house then?”

“Sounds good to me. Will I see you soon?” he questioned.

“Yep, you will,” I answered, and then hung up.

Finally, something to do. I didn’t usually drink on week days, but hell I deserved it.

Having that Jackson Johnston move into your house was more than reason enough to get blinded on a Tuesday night.

I went upstairs and quickly changed into jeans and a long sleeved white top.

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