Despite the fact that with only juice and water, and I have just come off a long flight, I feel charged. Energized. It must be the adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
She rings it up, and within minutes, I have a new iPhone in my hand with a working number. I came with enough cash to not have customs asking questions, which thankfully will be enough to get me through until I leave. Hopefully.
I power up my phone once I’ve found the nearest charging tower and open Safari. Typing in Jesse’s Tattoo Studio in Mount Maunganui, I hit the number as soon as it opens.
Three rings.
“Hi, Jesse’s Tattoo Studio, how can I help you?”
“Yeah, ah… can I please speak with Jesse?”
“I’m sorry. Jesse doesn’t work here anymore.”
My stomach deflates. “What?”
“Sorry, hon. We have other great art—”
“—I thought he owned it? You literally just greeted me by saying his name.”
“He did, but he sold. Sorry, just a second—”
I wait for what feels like hours. What am I going to do? I’m in this foreign country, looking for a man who I can’t find?
“This is Jesse.”
At the sound of his voice, I let out a sigh of relief through the tingles in my throat.
“Oh my God, Jesse.”
“Madison!”
“It’s me, and I’m really sorry to do this to you again, but I need you.”
I FIND A SPOT OUTSIDE the airport after getting off the phone with Jesse. He said he’d be here in three hours, though I doubt that. Where Jesse lives is literally halfway down the North Island. Where I am now is almost at the tip of it. New Zealand cannot be that small.
I swipe my phone unlocked and hide my number, knowing I need to call my dad. If anything, I don’t want to worry him. I’ll worry about the girls later.
I open a text and add my dad’s number.
Me - Dad, it’s M. I’m ok. Please don’t stress. X
I turn my phone off once I’ve hit send and wait, watching as people come and go. Simple in their world. Easy. No one running from the love of their life because another man raped them and may have impregnated them. No. Easy. Simple.
I grab my headphones out of my bag and ignore Madship’s playlist. Desperate to drown out the noise in my head with something other than my own shitshow of a life, I hit play on Slipknot. He screams something about “Wait and Bleed” and I close my eyes, tilting my head back to rest on the wall. I don’t know how long I stay like that before I’m removing the screaming from my ears and a loud rumble of an angry V8 engine replaces Cory Taylor.
“Jesse!” I shoot up from my chair and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Hey, Trouble.” He squeezes me tightly, breathing into my neck before pulling me back by my arms. His brown eyes search mine. “Wow, look at you. Still the most beautiful girl in the room, huh?”
I blush, chewing on my bottom lip. Jesse is everything I should have had but couldn’t. He was simply too good for me.
“Same with you, big boy.” I bring my hand up to the scruff on his cheek. His beard is thicker than I remember, his skin tougher. He looks good. Rough, tall, muscular, and tattooed—but his heart is soft. Gentle. “I missed you.”
He rests his cheek into my touch. “Same with you.” Picking up my backpack, he swings it over his shoulder before leading me to a gloss red old-school muscle car, swinging open the back door and tossing my bag in before opening the passenger side. “Well, come on then. Tell Jesse what’s wrong.”
I giggle, sliding into the passenger seat. The interior has obviously been restored with cream leather chairs and dash, and a new stereo. It smells of leather and cologne too, but the type that has been lingering for centuries.
Jesse jumps into the driver’s seat and revs the engine.
I smile up at him. “Nice car, J.”
“Thanks, I don’t suppose you’ll know this particular car.”
“What is it?” I ask, peeping at the lion on the center of the steering wheel.
“It’s a 1970 Holden HQ Kingswood.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
We both laugh as I kick off my slides and rest my feet on the dash. It’s late afternoon now, since we landed early morning, so the sun is putting on a dramatic show in the sky, leaving blazing fires in her wake.
“You wanna talk about it?” Jesse simply asks as he leads us onto the highway.
I sigh, resting my head against the window and closing my eyes for the first time since leaving. “Not yet. Maybe after a shower.”
The vibrations beneath me stop and I slowly peel my eyes open, scrubbing them from my sleep. My skin feels sticky and itchy, my thighs burning from chafe. I need a shower, stat.