Thanks to everyone who reads this story and enjoys it! It's all of you that have made this story get as far as it has, Chapter 13! The longest story I've written to date! So thank you so much, your support means a lot!

Important Note- I changed the rating from T to M because of this chapter and chapters to come. This chapter has some touchy themes and I don't want anyone reading something that makes them uncomfortable. Just a warning that there are mentions of suicide, self-injury, drug and alcohol abuse and eating disorders.

Right Between the Ink on Your Tattoo

Chapter Thirteen- My Soft and Deep

Kaye hummed lightly as she painted a portrait of Bobby lounging on the couch. He'd recently become her favorite subject and even though she knew it bothered Jack she just couldn't let go of the perfect composition. So there she was at the dining room table painting her little heart away at the impressionistic master piece while Jack moped around the kitchen banging around pans, plates and glasses.

Jack's jealousy hadn't subsided and no matter how much he denied it Kaye knew it was driving him insane. Bobby was a fascinating subject. So full of anger, an anger that she knew she has as well. Only unlike Bobby she just kept it locked away boiling at the core of her being and when it erupted her arms were her victims. Jack had hidden numerous razorblades and knives to keep her "safe" in their time together but she'd never used anything that sharp. She liked it dull and unforgiving, once you started you couldn't stop. A pair of scissors were her most prized possession and Jack couldn't take those away not when most of her life was spent cutting and styling other peoples hair. It was in fact her greatest work of art. No not the hair, the vicious scars that covered her arms releasing the pain she couldn't rid herself of. It disgusted Jack even though she'd seen him first hand dragging a blade across his skin. In all reality it disgusted her too, yet when impulse kicked in she couldn't control herself.

Her entire life she'd been exposed to people shoving fingers down their throats, willingly spreading their legs and high on all kinds of drugs. She never fit in perfectly and drank her sorrows away just like her mother and father. Alcohol was like the equivalent of water in her family. At dinner she was given a bottle, always allowed in bars and never once had she been carded. She partied with the best of them. Getting into high-end clubs at the age of thirteen. Then every night technically early morning she'd stumble into the bathroom and rip open her arms.

Her best and only true friend growing up throughout all those horrid years hid a secret as well. He had a preference of men, he was highly found of them actually almost more than any woman could appreciate. His parents did not share the same outlook and once they learned he was in fact in love with a man he was sent to live with an aunt in London. He wrote Kaye letters about his deepest dreams come true but lately the letters were few and far between. She wanted to tell him everything but times change.

She met Jack the week after her dear friend had left for London. At the time she couldn't understand how anyone as beautiful and full of life could love her like he did. She didn't think herself worthy of someone so full of light. She was always out late off with her "friends" her parents approved of. But the second she walked into her apartment Jack would wrap her up in his arms and tell her about his music and all the dreams he had. It baffled her how someone so traumatized, so abused through his life could have such high hopes. When she had everything but knew the world was not worth hoping for, hope never got you anywhere. Yet still she'd find herself hypnotized by his words and the time she spent absorbed in his life brought meaning back to her own. Some how being here made her fill up with a joy she'd never felt before. This family was to amazing to be left forgotten.

"Can I move now," Bobby grumbled from the sofa.

Kaye looked up at him and nodded her head, "You really don't have to ask Bobo."

This made Bobby grin. The kid had a sense of humor and was quick to whip harsh words right back at him. It had become a battle and at the moment she had him beat. Not for long. He got to his feet, strolled over to the dining room and gazed down at her painting in awe. The girl had a talent.

"You could be famous kid."

She laughed at him, "Nah not till I'm dead."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked yanking on her hair that had been pulled into loosely braided pigtails.

"Most famous painters don't reach fame until years after their death. It's sort of a curse really," she explained dipping her brush in her eight dollar water colors from Target.

"That's a morbid thought," he laughed turning and heading to the fridge. "Jackie-O what's for dinner? Sofi ain't come'n is she."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Yeah she's coming. She has an announcement to make."

"What about dinner?" Bobby repeated after gulping down half a beer.

Jack shrugged, "Order something."

Bobby raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother. Jack's hair was still a complete mess like that was anything new but he had dark sleep deprived eyes and his lips were stuck in a permanent frown. Jack just looked back at Bobby and shook his head.

"Don't even start man."

"I wasn't going to," Bobby sighed as he turned and left the room.

Jack was sick of it all. Sick of Bobby being an ass, sick of Angel's stupid wedding, sick of Jerry's complaints and warnings and sick of Kaye being so much trouble. All he wanted was to be alone for a while with his guitar and lost in his distant fading dreams. That's when he snapped, he finally snapped like he should have long ago. He crept up to his room and locked himself inside. He lifted up his mattress and pulled out the only thing keeping him going. One extra pill wouldn't hurt.

Kaye clapped her hands together in triumph and smiled down at her work. She personally hated everything she made but soon she came to accept the fact that nothing was perfect. She's actually grown dismissive about the flaws in her art. They made them more original. With a nod she bounced into the the living room and stood in front of Bobby. He looked up his second beer in hand.

"What?"

"Presenting to you a portrait of the legendary Bobby Mercer."

She held it up for him proudly. He studied it for a moment then looked up at her and then back down at the painting.

He forced a smile and chocked, "Oh very... good."

Her mouth twisted into a scowl. She flipped it around in her hands and studied it herself.

"You... you don't like it," she stuttered biting her lip.

"HA gotcha I'm kidding it's amazing! You should consider opening a gallery. You could have a whole collection of Bobby Mercer portraits cause you know I'm just so charming," he laughed loudly.

She grinned back and kicked his shin.

"Your a meanie," she pouted.

"Aw whittle Tinkerbell all sad."

"Woe is me," she sniffed then went back to the dining room and cleaned up her paints.

Bobby laughed and walked into the kitchen to order dinner. Chinese take out again. At least he had the order memorized. Everyone liked Chinese anyway.

Kaye climbed up the stairs her watercolors in hand. She hadn't seen Jack in a while and figured he was napping until she walked into the room and was practically thrown against the door shutting it with a loud bang. Jack longingly gazed down at her his body pressed up against hers.

"Oh," she breathed in as his lips crashed down onto hers, her paints slipping from her hand and falling to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck.