Free Just Jelly Beans and Jealousy by Tammy Falkner Page B

myself to
take a deep breath.
    “What do you hope to get out of seeing this
boy?” Dad asks.
    “I just want to thank him, Dad.”
    Dad grins and rolls his eyes. “I was thinking
you might want to have his babies.”
    I snort. “Not yet.”
    I’ll see Pete tomorrow. I can’t wait.
    “Hey, kid,” he says softly. “He’s been in
jail two years. He may be a little harder than that boy you met
that night so long ago.”
    Dad talks about it like it happened years
ago. But it happens again and again in my head, every single
night.
    “He still saved me, Dad,” I say quietly.

Finally Finding Faith
    Book 4 in The Reed Brothers Series

    Daniel

    Bells over the door jingle as I step into
the tattoo shop. The big red flashing sign said Reeds’, and they
appear to be open. I brush snow from my hair and blow warm breath
into my cupped hands. It’s fucking freezing outside. It’s
officially midnight, which makes it December thirty-first in New
York City. Of course, it’s cold. One day until New Year’s Day, and
I have twenty-four hours to cram in a lifetime of memories. Because
by the stroke midnight, the last second of 2013, I have to be done
with my list. I pull the piece of paper from my pocket and scan
down it really quickly.

Get a tattoo
Ride a horse-drawn carriage in the
snow
See a Broadway play
Buy hot chestnuts from a street
vendor
Eat a one-pound burger at Rocko’s
Drink hot chocolate on a bench in the
park
Fix my watch
     
    I look around the shop. There’s a bunch of
interesting art on the wall, and a little pixie of a woman
approaches me. She’s dressed in a retro style, and her hair is all
curled up and pinned like she’s a sixties model. Her nametag says
Friday. It fits her. “What can I do for you?” she asks, and she
blows out a slow breath. She looks tired and I immediately wonder
what happened to her to put that look in her eye. But I don’t dare
ask.
    “ Did you leave Wednesday
and Thursday at home?” I blurt out.
    Her right eyebrow arches and she looks down
her nose at me. I immediately wish I could take it back. But then
she starts to laugh. And it’s not a little laugh. It’s a great big
belly laugh. She shakes a finger at me and motions for me to follow
her. She sits across from me at a table and says, “I assume you’re
here for a tattoo?”
    I look around the shop. “Actually, I thought
this was a brothel. Am I in the wrong place?” I move to get up, but
my stupid prosthetic leg won’t let me play around the way I want
to. It clanks against the table and I grimace.
    “ You okay?” she says
quietly. Her eyes don’t drop to my leg. She looks me in the face.
Most people at least glance at my leg before they jerk their eyes
back up to meet mine.
    “ Fine,” I bite
out.
    “ Well, we can’t help you
out if you were looking for a brothel,” she says. She looks toward
the men who are doing tats. They’re all big and blond and a little
bit intimidating. And they don’t seem to like my brand of humor as
much as she does. She drops her voice to a whisper. “The last time
I tried sell my body in here, the boys didn’t like it.” She laughs.
The men scowl even more, and I wonder if I should leave.
    I glance down at my watch. I don’t know why
I still look at it. It hasn’t worked since the blast in Afghanistan
that took all my friends, my leg, and my sanity. I still wear it
like I expect it to start up any second now. But that’s not going
to happen. My life is over. Or at least it will be at midnight
tomorrow tonight. I glance at the clock on the wall. Twenty-three
hours and fifty-two minutes from now, I’ll get to finish what fate
started. I’ll get to right the wrong.
    Friday waves a hand in my face and jerks me
from my thoughts. “Hello-o,” she sings.
    “ Sorry,” I murmur. I heave
in a sigh. It’s so easy to get sucked into the memories. The
screaming. The hurting. The chaos. I look into her beautiful face.
“I’d like to get a tattoo,” I say. “A clock, maybe.