Page 2 of Love Loathe Devotion (Tightrope #3)

My stomach twists slightly as I consider what I’m about to do before the vision of what I’d walked in on last Friday night flashes through my brain. My boyfriend, Randy, on his hands and knees being plowed from behind by my friend Sloane, who was wearing a huge purple strap-on dick.

As if his cheating on me after telling me he loved me wasn’t bad enough, he’d done it with Sloane.

My so-called friend, who never missed an opportunity to tell me what a douchebag Randy was.

I guess the saying is true, Randy by name, randy by nature.

Maybe he should have been called ‘lying disgusting scumbag’ because that’s what he is.

I’d frozen on the threshold as the moans and hideously loud groans of ecstasy came from him as she told him what a naughty boy he was.

I have no idea how I got out of there without losing my lunch, but somehow I had, and I was glad I did.

It gave me some time and clarity to plan my revenge instead of acting on the instinct to rail and scream at them both.

I’d never considered myself a vengeful person, but a betrayal like this has made me see a side of myself previously hidden.

Perhaps I should be more concerned with the fact I’m more angry than heartbroken, but I think, deep down, I’d known he wasn’t the one for me.

It had just taken the visual to push that thought into the light.

Neither Sloane nor Randy knew I’d caught them and, after spending hours walking through the park, and avoiding the slightly worried looks of strangers as I muttered to myself and cried, I’d made a plan.

If that fucker thought he was getting away with it, he had another thing coming; they both did.

I’m sick of letting things slide and being the bigger person all the time, it has gotten me exactly nowhere.

Checking my hair in the mirror, I fluff the edges out, I want Randy to see exactly what he is losing when I walk away from him today. But first, he has to take his damn medicine.

Brushing my skirt down with sweaty palms, I walk out of the bathroom of the peds ward where I volunteer twice a week.

I got into it by accident after a friend’s sister had a sick child in the hospital.

She commented on what a godsend it was to have people do the little things, like sit with a child while she went to the bathroom, and how the nurses were too rushed off their feet to help.

It was something so simple, but I’d seen how much it meant, and I’d been helping out ever since.

Most times it just involved reading a story or singing a gentle lullaby to soothe the fear inside them, others, it was holding the hand of a terrified parent who just needed an anchor in the worst of times.

It broke my heart in two, making me cry myself to sleep at the unfairness of life when a child didn’t make it, but I felt I made a tiny difference and I need that.

I’d just spent a couple of hours sitting with Joey, a little boy with kidney disease, while his father, Lucas, had a much-needed break.

I’d sung Joey his favorite song from “The Lion King” and then settled into a Winnie the Pooh song he loved when his mom caught my eye from the doorway.

I smiled at the sleeping child as I made my way toward her, ending the last note on a whisper.

I love to sing—in the shower, and I know my voice is good, but my fear and paralyzing terror at the thought of singing in public holds me captive from making any kind of career out of it.

Yet, it seems to flee when I’m with these brave kids.

Joey’s mom, Sam, grins as she takes my arm and we walk back into the hallway so we can talk without disturbing her sleeping son.

Sam is the sweetest, kindest lady, but she’s also fierce in a way I’m not and, despite her being a few years older, we’d become really close friends as we sat by her son’s bed.

My heart broke in two for Sam and Lucas as they watched, helpless to do anything to help Joey, apart from love him. Kidney disease is brutal in anyone but a little kid who’d done nothing to anyone made it seem so much worse.

“Heading out, babe?”

I nod and her lips pull into a smirk when she runs her gaze over me and sees how I’m dressed to kill.

I’d told her about Randy and my plan, and she had been gleeful in helping me plan it.

Lucas, however, is a different story. He knows Randy and I are on the outs but not why or what I had planned next.

Lucas was the epitome of a protective big brother, having adopted me as the little sister he’d never had over the last year and a half, and if he knew what Randy and Sloane had done, Randy would be eating through a straw for a year.

I didn’t want that or need it. Lucas is needed here, and I can tell him afterward so I don’t put Sam in a tough spot.

I probably shouldn’t have told her either, she has enough stress, but it had come out when she’d taken one look at me and I’d burst into tears. Honestly, I think dealing with me and my drama distracted her from her own.

“Yep, headed out.”

Sam takes my hands in her own and holds them out slightly. “You look hot as fuck. He’s gonna rue the day he fucked around on you, babe.”

“Am I doing the right thing? This is very devious and conniving and maybe it’s too far for revenge.”

Sam shakes her head. “Screw that, he deserves everything he’s getting. Now go, and text me as soon as you’re done. Rusty is gonna watch out for you but I wish I could be there as well.”

Rusty was Sam’s brother and a dear friend of mine too, and he’s helping me exact my revenge. “No, you need to be here with Joey. He’s what matters right now.”

Sam sobers as she glances back at her sleeping son through the glass window then sniffs back tears. I pull her into my arms and hug her tight, knowing just how hard this is on her and Lucas. I’ve never seen two people so in love as them, but this is a strain and it’s taking a toll on them both.

“I can stay, Sammy, if you need me.”

Sam shakes her head and pulls away to wipe her eyes, her blue eyes luminous against her pale skin and red hair. “No, you do this and then you go have fun. You graduated, babe. You need to enjoy this before you decide on your next steps. Maybe think about that demo tape again?”

I ignore her comment about the demo, knowing full well it’s a pipedream when I can hardly sing in front of anyone over ten years old.

“You sure? You don’t need me to stay?” I bend my knees so I can lock eyes with my vertically challenged friend. At five-eight, I’m not a giant but, compared to Sammy’s five-one, I am.

“Yes, knowing you’re out there doing your thing will make me feel happier. Text me when you’re done, or, better yet, send pictures.”

“I will and give Joey a kiss from me. Do you need me to bring food back for you?”

“No, Lucas is going to meet his friends, Nico and Eddie, at Mickey’s so he’ll bring me something back after.”

“Okay, call if you need me. I’m gonna go. I need to meet the jerk outside Ink Tank in five minutes.”

“Yes, okay. Shoo, go.”

I give Sam one last wave of my fingers and head out.

The weather is warm on my skin as I walk on the highest heels I have and fight the urge to tug the miniscule skirt I have on lower down my thighs.

For someone who lives in denim shorts and a vest in summer, this tiny skirt and bodice style top feel restrictive and uncomfortable, but I’m not here for comfort, I’m here to make a statement, and this outfit definitely does that.

“Hey, babe, you look hot.”

Forcing a wave of disgust away, I smile at my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend and manage to dodge the kiss he aims my way so it lands on my cheek.

“Thank you. I wanted to look my best.”

“You look great. You should wear this more instead of those ratty denim shorts that make you look like a hick.”

I grit my jaw and smile through my anger, biting back a sharp retort on the edge of my tongue. Fucker just made this decision a lot easier. “You ready? Rusty is waiting inside.”

“Yes. I can’t believe you’ve taken this long to get me booked in here, Laney. You know how much I wanted Rusty’s work for my first tattoo.”

His whiny voice grates my nerves and I close my eyes and try to summon some much-needed calm.

This last week living with him, knowing the truth about who he is and what he’s done, has been eye-opening for me.

The way he criticizes everything I do, the way he expects me to work a full-time job at his parents' hotel and then come home and cook and clean for him all the while looking like a fucking Stepford wife and finishing my degree is insane. I’m annoyed with myself for putting up with this bullshit for so long, but I know I’ve done it because it was the easier choice and I am done with those.

We’d met in college when I’d been studying music and Randy had been wonderful at first but now, looking back, it was his criticism of my singing which had prompted me to change my major and study Public Relations instead.

“Sorry, baby, but this tattoo is totally going to make up for it.”

Randy wraps his arm around my waist and gives me a nod as if accepting my apology, as we head into Ink Tank.

Pictures and stencils from some of the work Rusty and his girl, Kendal, had done over the years cover the walls and each one is more impressive than the last. Some are so realistic and lifelike that it’s like looking at a picture.

“Hey, Laney girl.”

I turn at the sound of Rusty’s voice, pull out of Randy’s arms, and rush toward the huge tattooed mountain man with the shock of red hair. His arms envelop me and he rubs my back as he whispers close to my ear.

“You ready for a little revenge, sweetheart?”

I turn my face to him, his beard tickling my nose. “So ready.”

His rumble of laughter soothes my nerves. “Alright, girl, I got ya. Let’s get these consent forms signed.”