Deep in her Marrow

By Nikki Mays

Cadie lived in hell because of an abusive ex. She managed to escape, but is a shell of her former self. No matter how hard she tries, she can't seem to get back to the woman she once was. Even if working at a tattoo shop filled with big scary men has been helping her see that sometimes they are the ones to have at her side. Especially a certain

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kingston Publishing Company
• Release date: Mar 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781645333586

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Copyright

Deep in her Marrow is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEEP IN HER MARROW: A NOVEL

Copyright © 2022 by Nikki Mays

All rights reserved.

Editing by Nikki Mays

Cover Model - Jeremy Mooney

Photographer – Golden Czermak

Chapter Art – Sinfully Seductive Designs

Formatting & Cover Design by KP Designs

- www.kpdesignshop.com

Published by Kingston Publishing Company

- www.kingstonpublishing.com

The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Disclaimer: This book is intended for mature audiences only. It contains adult language and explicit scenes. Not intended for readers under the age of 18. Reader discretion is advised. Some scenes may be a trigger.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Table of Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

Epilogue

Extras

About the Author

Also by the Author

About the Publisher

A person posing for a picture Description automatically generated with medium confidence

I once read that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different outcome. I wonder if I qualify as insane for going to bed each night, thinking this might be the night I sleep peacefully, but then each night I’m transported back to my worst memories, sleeping fitfully until the horror of what I’ve gone through becomes too much for my brain to handle, waking me on a scream.

The only good thing at this point is I learned how to function on very little sleep years ago. You learn to not sleep deeply when you’re terrified of the person sleeping beside you.

The only time I’ve gotten a full night's sleep in the past few years is when I took medicine my doctor prescribed. But that just made everything worse. No matter how much I wanted, I could never wake myself from the horrible nightmares that were once my reality. I would be stuck in that dream hell until the medicine wore off. I would rather never sleep again, than be trapped in those memories with no way out.

Not that being able to wake myself is any real gift, but at least it gives me a choice. And for someone who lived for years without having any choice at all, including what I ate and wore, getting to choose is the most precious gift I’ll ever have.

I rub my gritty eyes as I illuminate my phone to check the time. Not bad, I managed a solid five hours, which is way better than the three I’ve been averaging for the past few weeks.

I sigh tiredly as I sightlessly stare up at my ceiling, or should I say Edge’s ceiling. But I suppose it really is mine now, especially since he moved into a house with my friend Kealey; he is technically my landlord, you know, a landlord who always forgets to collect my rent.

The first few times I gathered up the courage to seek out and hand him a check he politely took it and acted as if he was actually going to cash it. Close to a year later, he now just shoos me from the room when he sees what’s in my hand. I feel terrible that not only am I living here rent free, but he gave me a job that pays me very well. I’ve never had so much money in my bank account before, and I truly don’t know what to do with it.

Even when I spoke to Kealy about it, all she did was shrug and tell me he’s going to do what he wants. And what he wants is to not cash a check from me. I tried to explain that I felt bad about him not making money on an apartment he could probably be making quite a bit of money for each month. That was met with a snort and raised eyebrow, along with her muttering something about him having more money than sense.

I decided to give up after that. The stubborn man doesn’t even let us pay for our own lunch. Well, I should rephrase that, he doesn’t let Mel and I pay for our lunch. I’m pretty sure he willingly takes JT and Draven’s money, but I have a feeling that’s a guy thing or something. I’m not really sure and don’t have the courage to ask them about it.

Realizing it’s pointless to just lay here, I throw my blankets off sit up intending to start my day. I slide my feet into my slippers because I hate the feel of the cold hardwood floors. It could be a million degrees in here and this floor would still be ice cold.

I shuffle my way to the coffee maker and go about filling it with water and coffee granules to make the magical elixir that will help me function like a normal human being. Well, somewhat normal anyway, I’ll never truly be normal again, but I guess what is my new normal.

Ahh, I’m making my own head hurt, I grumble to myself, since I live alone and have only myself to talk to.

I turn on the television so it’s not so deathly quiet in here and search through the channels a bit before finding one of my favorite cooking shows.

Now that I’m away from he who shall not be named, I’m able to cook, bake, and eat anything I want. And because of that, I’ve become a teensy bit obsessed with cooking and baking shows. A lot of my money has been going towards ingredients and different tools. I don’t feel too guilty about my purchases since I don’t have very many expenses. Plus, who wouldn’t want an amazing standing mixer with every attachment known to man? I mean, hello, have you ever had homemade pasta? I swear, I’ll never be able to eat boxed pasta ever again. And don’t get me started on my food processor that can cut through almost anything or my pretty new cake stand.

I look around my kitchen and slightly grimace. I may have gone a bit overboard. Every cabinet is filled and, I’m starting to lack counter space as well. But it’s totally worth it when finishing off some pasta with fresh donuts.

I take out my favorite coffee mug that Mel gave me, it has a picture of a cupcake on it, but underneath it reads, don’t be a cuntcake. It really is the most awesome thing anyone has ever given me. Mel said she saw it and thought of me and my cupcakes. I routinely take most of the stuff I bake down to the shop since I can’t eat all of it without becoming diabetic. It was really surprising how fast everything disappeared the first time. I’ve never seen grown men actually shove each other out the way like that before. And to stop any further incidents, let's just say JT and Draven might’ve gotten a bit wild and put a shoulder through a wall, I now give everyone their own box of goodies. Less chance of bloodshed.

I pour the coffee into my mug and add some honey and milk. I know, I know, most people would never dream of putting honey in coffee, but don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Especially if you’ve added the right amount of cinnamon to the coffee grinds. It’s a decadent way to start the day. Sometimes, I’ll even add cocoa to the grinds as well, just to take it up a notch.

I take my first sip and moan in utter bliss. This was exactly what I needed after last night's dream.

Not like they vary too much, but last nights was a particularly nasty memory, that I would prefer to never think of again. Not that I can, considering I still have the scars to remind me, but as long as I don’t stand in the mirror naked for too long, I can pretend that specific moment never happened. Until my brain decides to bitch slap me like it did last night.

I plop down onto my couch and curl my feet under me.

I will not think about that today. I will sit here watching people create yummy looking things until I’m thoroughly happy and starving. I will then make myself something to eat, probably not as delicious looking as what was on the screen, and then I will shower and get dressed for work. I will try not to jump at my own shadow. I will try to be assertive and not mumble. I will try to make eye contact with everyone I encounter, even if he is a large man. And I will not dwell on the past when I have a bright looking future ahead of me.

After repeating my mantra that my psychiatrist thought would be helpful, I am now calm and determined to look ahead instead of backwards today. I know it seems cliché to repeat stuff like that to myself and, at first, I really thought it was just a bunch of crap. But I’ve come to realize how much mentally putting myself in a good mood affects the rest of my day. Obviously, some days are better than others, but that’s life I suppose.

I happily sip my coffee while wondering if I could ever recreate that awesome looking cake and decide I’m going to make today my bitch!

****

Today has made me her bitch and I hate her. It started off with burning my breakfast, both my toast and eggs, and my avocado was more brown than green. Fine, not a big deal; I ate it and jumped in the shower, then managed to get soap in my eyes. During my flailing around, because who wouldn’t, I knocked down everything onto the shower floor. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if my eyes weren’t burning and I could properly see everything that I picked up and more importantly what I didn’t. What didn’t I pick up? My razor, which I promptly stepped on causing a nice long cut on the bottom of my foot.

The next few minutes were more of blur between trying to get clean and to stop the ridiculous amount of bleeding, thanks to the water. Once I finally got myself dressed and my foot wrapped up in enough gauze to make me taller on one side, I walked from my apartment, only to realize that I left my keys inside after I heard the door click shut--my automatically locking door. And even though the apartment is connected to the shop, they still have separate doors, that you guessed it, have locks for which I didn’t have my keys.

Edge found me sitting in the hallway by the shop’s backdoor when he opened the exterior one. Thankfully he, just raised an eyebrow and opened the door. I didn’t miss the twitch of his lips when he asked me if I was having a rough morning, especially after he watched me limp inside and gave me a questioning look. I didn’t divulge everything just the basics on the hellish start to my morning.

I have to give him credit, he kept a straight face even though I’m sure he was dying to laugh. He even had to call a locksmith for my apartment door because he had the locks changed, not keeping a copy of the key when I moved in so I would feel more secure. How he knew I would feel uncomfortable with him having a key to my door, I’ll never know, but that sweet gesture earned him a ton of respect from me. Even if I now kind of wish he still had a spare.

I may have to give one to Mel or Kealy for disastrous days like today. Because let’s face it, I’m more disaster than functional human most days.

And if all of that wasn’t already crappy, the one man I avoid like the plague came in and saw me crying because a customer yelled at me when I couldn’t give him the appointment time he wanted. Although, as much as I try to avoid Marrow, I was grateful for his appearance. The customer was angry and a man, not something I like dealing with, especially when everyone else was out back bringing in all of the supplies that were delivered.

Of course, I clammed up the minute the guy started yelling and leaning over the counter towards my face. I couldn’t even help the silent tears that started streaming down my face as the guy was calling me stupid and a bunch of other names that I choose not to remember. It was then that Marrow walked in and for the first time, he didn’t scare me. He should’ve considering the minute he saw my face and the guy yelling at me his expression turned murderous.

At that moment, he reminded me of The Hulk and how he increases in size as he gets angrier and angrier. The guy seemed to sense Marrow’s anger because he shut up quickly after the few words Marrow spoke to him, too softly for me to hear. But considering how his face went as white as a sheet, I can imagine what was said.

Unfortunately, when Marrow walked near me, I still shied away while hyperventilating. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t because of him. That realistically I understand he wouldn’t hurt me, but I couldn’t get any words to come from my mouth. Just horrible squeaks that made me sound like a deranged mouse. I just couldn’t help it though. The things the guy said with the way he was leaning closer and closer to me, transported me back to memories I try hard to forget.

Needless to say, I hightailed it to the bathroom, ignoring the others that I ran into as I shut and locked the door. I’m not sure how long I sat on the cold floor before Mel knocked on the door, but it must’ve been a while because my butt was numb.

The thing I really like about Mel is that she doesn’t pry. Honestly, no one here does, well maybe JT, but he’s harmless about it, only looking for anything to use against Edge and Draven.

She just sat on the ground next to me after I unlocked the door for her. She didn’t say a word and, there wasn’t any pity in her eyes, which is by far the worst thing to see. Nope, she just came in, gave me a small smile, and slid down next to me. We sat like that until JT knocked on the door asking what we wanted for lunch, like we don’t have an actual food schedule since everyone would always argue without one. I swear, this place really is like one big dysfunctional family some days.

Even an hour later and I’m still shaking slightly as I sit at Edge’s desk and try to focus on all of the paperwork that needs my attention. You wouldn’t think a tattoo shop would have so much, but I guess that’s just how it is for any business. Though this is nothing compared to how it was when I first started working here. It was almost as if Edge never filed a single form. I cringe just remembering how bad all of the stacks of paper were.

It even took me awhile to convince him that using a computer program for everything would be a lot better. Even if my brand of convincing him was leaving little post it notes with helpful hints about different programs. Eventually, he just walked up to me with a stack of the post it notes and told me to get whatever I wanted as long as I never leave him another note again.

I may or may not have done a little happy dance in my seat when he walked away.

I definitely didn’t waste any time purchasing and downloading the program onto all of the computers here. I was so happy that I didn’t even pay attention when everyone groaned about hating the fact that they now had to learn a new system. After hearing some of the horror stories about past attempts to get them into this century, I typed up detailed instructions, I mean idiot proof ones with pictures even, and printed out one for each of them. I also thought ahead and left a few copies in drawers next to any computer in case they lost theirs, which they did. A little planning goes a long way.

I stare at the screen and back down to the paper on the desk and frown. I double check what I’m seeing before frowning even more.

I look up in time to see Edge passing by the door and, I call out to him without thought, something I wouldn’t have done months ago, but now am able to do somewhat easily.

Edge? My voice is still low but, stronger than it had been before.

He pauses and steps back to the door. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize he wasn’t alone because another large body joins him. What’s up, Cadie? Edge asks as Marrow walks in behind him.

I look between the two men and chew on my lip. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were busy. It can wait, I rush to change what I was going to ask.

I’m not busy, he replies, standing against the wall, giving me as much space as possible.

I look over at Marrow and look away quickly when I see that he’s looking at me. Umm, it’s fine, it can wait, I mumble.

If it’s something about the shop, you can say it in front of Mar. If it’s personal I can kick his ass out, he says calmly.

Dammit. It’s about the shop, I say because lying has never been something that I’m good at or comfortable with.

All right, shoot, Edge says.

I look up and studiously avoid looking at Marrow. I can see him in my peripheral vision. Even if I didn’t, I could still feel his eyes on me. I always seem to know when he’s looking at me. My body always feels like it’s touching a livewire when he’s around for some reason. A reason on which I choose not to dwell.

I take a deep breath and muster all the courage I can. There seems to be a few discrepancies in the last few orders that were made. There’s only a slight tremble in my voice but, the men standing in front of me graciously ignore it.

Edge frowns. What kind of discrepancies? His arms cross over his chest and his eyes take on a sharp look that would’ve made me run for the hills months ago. Now I can rationally tell myself that he looks that way because he takes his business very seriously and that it has nothing to do with me.

I turn the laptop to face him and move the paperwork so that he can see as well. I clear my throat a few times. According to the list of supplies, the prices don’t match. You were quoted a different amount from what has been charged.

He looks it over for a few moments. That could’ve just been an accident, he says but his tone is dubious.

I nod. I thought that too but, I decided to take a closer look. When I looked back over the past year or so, it happens every other month. You get charged normally and, then the next month it’s almost double. It seems like it’s so that you don’t notice, especially since this is a standing order and charged automatically.

Edge blinks a few times before pulling out a chair and sitting down. He’s extremely focused on everything that he’s looking at now.

I look up when I hear a low whistle. Marrow is looking over Edge’s shoulder now, looking just as intense as his friend.

It looks like someone has been making a decent amount of bank without you noticing, Marrow states and he’s correct.

Around eight thousand from what I’ve gone through. But it is most likely more, I didn’t go too far back once I noticed a pattern, I say lowly.

Edge looks up at me and blinks. Eight grand?

I grimace and shrug. So far.

Someone has stolen eight grand from me without me knowing? he asks with a dumbfounded look on his face.

Marrow rolls his eyes at him. I told you how many years ago to update your system and to get rid of using paper for everything. You would’ve caught it the first time it happened instead of it happening for God knows how long.

Edge grits his teeth. Can we not get into this shit right now? I’ve got a computer system now, don’t I?

Marrow snorts and