Hey guys! Finally another update! Sorry I took so long, I've been moving into college to start my new semester as a sophomore. Anyway, without further ado, I give you quite the long Chapter Nine! Please enjoy!
It's a long way from Menemsha to Oak Bluffs; a good thirty to forty minutes. But Regina doesn't care. A good twenty minutes racing down North Road, past rolling fields and farms, the wind at her back, makes her feel the most free. Martha's Vineyard in the summer, even the parts inland, is simply breathtaking. Lush green trees and bushes line the quiet streets. Forests, farms, fields, and even small valleys extend expansively, through which the roads travel. At night, the trees with their large branches, spread like reaching arms over the pavement, give the impression that one is driving down an enchanting tunnel of leaves.
It's all so peaceful and quiet. Not many cars are seen on the road now, allowing Regina to zip through a few miles over the normal speed limit of thirty-five. It takes her about twenty minutes for the brunette to reach where North Road connects with State Road, and from there another ten to fifteen to take that road all the way into the heart of Vineyard Haven, the central hub of the Vineyard. Then, just ten more minutes down the road lies the seaside village of Oak Bluffs.
Oak Bluffs is a lively place, one that caters more towards young teens and adults who seek to simply shop, drink, and have a good time. The streets are lined with restaurants, bars, and shops; some simple and mainstream, others unique and quirky. Tourists flood the area so heavily that they make it difficult to drive through, especially at the very center of town where lies one of the most famous landmarks in Martha's Vineyard. The Flying Horses carousel. Located just nestled between two intersecting roads, Kennebec and Lake Ave, this carousel is the oldest operating carousel in America. Housed in a large red barn, the landmark does not go unnoticed by tourists as they form a line with their children stretching all the way out the door in eager anticipation for a memorable ride or two.
There, located just diagonally across from this historic gem, lies Regina's destination: Steve's tattoo shop, Crimson Colors. It's not the classiest place in the area; the sign in bold red neon lights. The outside is very plain, apart from the large windows on both sides of the door through which passerby can peer inside and witness the smorgasbord of posters inside depicting skulls, dragons, and rock bands.
There's a cool and clinical smell to the place, one that's noticed right when one walks in. It's not a terribly homey smell, bleach mixed with the faint odor of cigarettes, but one that Regina has grown accustomed to after visiting the parlor on numerous occasions. The buzzing sound of tattoo machines, with their needles working to puncture skin and inject ink at three thousand times per minute, fill the air amongst the chatter of customers.
The receptionist is a large man who appears to have more tattoos shown on his body than skin. He sits perched on a small stool, waiting impatiently as customers discuss and debate over the infinite options for permanent art. As Regina walks by, he turns his head and gives her a brief nod. The staff here have gotten to know her by now through her various visits. Knowing that she is involved with the head artist, they allow her to move past the front desk into the back of the parlor.
She walks down a narrow hallway; the sound of machines loud and clear as they emit past the tattoo room doors left slightly ajar. There are about six rooms all together, the very last being Steve's. It's perfect timing. For just as Regina arrives at his door, a customer walks out with a freshly bandaged tattoo on his left shoulder.
"Hey, baby!" Steve calls from his seat as he gathers up his used needles and deposits them into the carefully marked bin.
Regina smirks, stepping into the room and closing the door. "Morning," she bids, coming to take a seat on the reclining chair. "Busy day so far?"
"Nah," Steve replies with a shrug, "Just two walk-ins so far. I've got a scheduled session at noon."
"Not bad," Regina comments, glancing at the clock. They have a good forty-five minutes. She turns back to her boyfriend, her lips curling up into a smirk. "Care to take another walk-in customer?"
Steve grins. "Well, I don't know," he states, "Depends on how this customer plans on paying."
Regina chuckles, leaning over to press her lips firmly to his. "If you're patient, I'll show you exactly how I'll repay you…tonight," she purrs, holding his chin firmly in her hand.
The man smirks, shaking his head fondly. "You are a piece of work," he mutters.
"That I am," Regina replies with a grin as she leans back into her chair.
Steve shakes his head once more before pulling himself up straight. "So, Regina," he begins, "What would you like me to do for you today?"
"Three stars on the top of my foot…right here," Regina states quickly and without thinking. She sits up and points to the top of her right foot.
Steve frowns, tilting his head to the side. "Stars?" he repeats, "Why?"
"Because, I'm feeling lucky today," Regina says with a shrug.
A small smirk plays on the man's lips as he looks into sparkling chocolate eyes. "And why is that?" he asks with a chuckle.
"Because, I just entered into the art show contest at the annual Agricultural Society Fair," Regina announces proudly.
At her announcement, Steve blinks surprisedly. "Really?" he breathes, "You're entering again?"
"Yup!" Regina affirms, "And this time, I'm going to win. I can just feel it." She looks up at him, eyes so full of hope. "Steve, I really think I have a shot this year."
Steve sighs softly, shaking his head. "I know, baby," he says, "I think so too. But remember, you'll be competing with some of the top artists, not only on this island but also possibly from the mainland as well."
"I know that, Steve, but—"
"I just don't want you to be disappointed."
Regina frowns. "You think I can't do it?" she snaps.
"No, no! Not at all!" Steve is quick to correct. "I think you have a very good chance considering you came in third last year. But I'm just—you know—" He sighs. "I hated seeing you so upset last year." He reaches towards her, cupping her cheek with his gloved hand. "It broke my heart."
Regina sighs deeply. "Yeah, I know," she murmurs, glancing down and back up at him. "But I need to keep doing this. I need to keep entering because that's what's going to get me out there more. Think about it. I won third place last year and it was a bummer, but remember all the new customers I've received just after that?" She sighs softly. "Maybe this year will be different. My whole life can change from this fair if I do it right. I just need to give myself another chance."
Steve smiles slightly, shaking his head. "You never cease to amaze me, Regina," he says, "If anyone can do it, it's you…" He looks away, turning to prepare the hand machine for tattooing.
Regina sighs again, silently watching her boyfriend load the gun with ink and adjust the needles.
"Are you sure about this?" Steve asks as he scoots his chair down so that he can sit over Regina's foot.
"Yes," Regina replies with a nod, "I'm sure. If I win, I'll consider the stars good luck. If I lose, they'll just remind me to keep trying again."
The familiar feeling of the sharp needles dragging down her skin makes her breath hitch slightly. She stares up at the ceiling as Steve gets to work, drawing the three stars she asks simply freehand. Regina trusts that he will do a good job, just as he'd done with her feather tattoo the year they met.
She remembers it well.
"I'd like a tattoo of a feather please, just in simple black," Regina states as she take a seat in the chair.
"All right," Steve replies with a slight smirk of amusement, "Do you have a design?"
The brunette shakes her head. "Just make it look nice," she instructs.
Steve chuckles slightly. "That's a lot of trust you put in me," he says, nodding in amazement. His dark eyes look Regina up and down.
"I know you can do it," she replies with a shrug. She lies back in the chair, offering him her right wrist. "I trust you."
"Hey! Long time, no see!" a young voice suddenly cries as the door opens abruptly, startling both Regina and Steve. The man lifts the machine from the brunette's skin and glares at the sudden and unwelcome visitor.
"Reya!" Regina exclaims, sitting up, "What are you doing here?"
"How did you get back here?" Steve adds, narrowing his eyes slightly at the young brunette.
Reya grins at the both of them. "I just told them that I was here to see you," she answers as if the answer is obvious. She looks at Regina. "Once they knew I was related to you, they let me in, no problem."
Regina shakes her head confusedly. "Yeah, okay. What about Robin? Where's he? Did you ditch him?"
"No, silly!" Reya chirps, "He's here. He's just in the front."
The older brunette sighs. It seems as if now she'll never be able to escape Reya or Robin. If it's not the young girl, it's her own mind. "You still haven't told me why you're here."
"I begged Robin to bring me," Reya says, "It's because I need your help. I need to find proof so that you and he can believe."
Steve frowns, shifting in his seat. "I'm so lost," he mutters.
"Need to know, Steeeve," Reya drawls.
"Reya!" Regina scolds. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before she opens them again to glance at Steve.
"Baby, can you please give us some privacy for one moment?"
Begrudgingly, Regina's boyfriend huffs, placing down the tattoo machine and stalking from the room.
Regina sighs, shaking her head before turning to address the young girl once again. "Look, I don't have time for this—"
"Just let me look, please?"
"Look where?"
"Around your house," Reya replies, "There has to be a solid clue somewhere that I can use to show you that I'm not crazy. I already looked around Robin's house. There's nothing to find."
Regina sighs deeply, shaking her head incredulously. "You just don't give up, do you? Can't give me a break, can you?" she remarks.
Reya shakes her head adamantly. "Nope."
"You realize that forcing isn't going to help. It might even accomplish the opposite. You can't force two people together. It doesn't work like that."
Reya nods. "Yeah, I know, but I'm not forcing," she insists, "I'm looking for proof—"
"To use to force me to believe in your stories, to believe that Robin and I are…soulmates," Regina finishes with a sigh.
"Well, I'm hoping that once I find the proof, you'll finally believe and I won't have to do any more forcing," Reya retorts. She exhales loudly, shaking her head at her mother. "Look, I won't force you and Robin together anymore. I know that both of you want me to leave you guys alone. But you have to let me look in your house for any proof, any sign, that what I'm saying is real. Call it a project. Just think about it. If I do find something, it'll give you an explanation to all of this." She smirks slightly.
Regina narrows her eyes at the young girl, shaking her head slowly. "You are quite the little manipulator, aren't you?" she tuts.
Reya's smirk widens. "Call it an inherited trait."
"You realize that I know what's in my house. I highly doubt that anything I have would have some sort of higher meaning." Regina rolls her eyes.
"You wouldn't know, but I would."
"Confident, huh?"
"Very."
Silence ensues as Regina studies the young brunette for a moment. Perhaps, she can use this to her advantage. The older brunette highly doubts that Reya would be able to find anything helpful, anything that would pass as "proof" for these ridiculous notions. Maybe once the young brunette finds that there is nothing, just as she has done at Robin's place, she will finally leave Regina alone. That is her hope, for sure.
"Okay, fine," Regina relents, "Have Robin bring you over tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Reya whines, "Why tomorrow?"
"Because I have stuff to do today. I have a life, you know," Regina replies with a slight scowl. "Now, I said yes. Now, go away."
Reya sighs. "Okay. Fine."
Regina watches quietly as Reya turns on her heel and strides from the room, shutting the door on the way out. With a soft groan, she lies back against her chair once more, throwing her arm over her eyes.
"Everything all right?" Steve asks as the door opens again and he steps inside.
Regina grunts. "Yeah, everything is fine."
"I really don't like the way this girl keeps bothering you like this," the man comments, "It's…annoying."
The brunette snorts. "An understatement, Steve," she mutters. "I don't like it either but I guess that's just the way until we get to the bottom of whatever she insists is happening."
"And what is happening? What is this all about?"
"If I told you, then I would sound crazy," Regina says, peeking up at her boyfriend from underneath her arm.
"You could give it a shot."
Regina shakes her head. "No. There's no point in you knowing. It's not real. The sooner Reya finds out that her delusions are—well—delusions, the better off we all will be and can finally live in peace again." The brunette lowers her arm, gazing into Steve's dark eyes. "Just trust me. Promise?"
Steve heaves a large sigh as he shakes his head slowly. "I trust you."
Another twenty minutes and Regina's tattoo is finished. The brunette gazes down at her foot, admiring her new little addition. With a grin, she wiggles her toes, pulling at the assaulted flesh ever so slightly.
"It's beautiful," Regina says before looking towards her boyfriend, "I love it."
"Glad you do," Steve answers, leaning over to give her a swift peck on the lips. With that, he stands and begins to dress the new tattoo, taping a small patch of gauze over the top of Regina's foot. "You still have that A+D ointment I gave you?"
Regina nods. "Yeah, and I apply it after two hours of having this bandage on."
Steve gives her a smile. "Good girl," he praises, helping her up and off the chair.
Regina slips on her sandals, thankful that the straps don't press against the gauze too much. With a parting kiss to Steve, she is heading from the tattoo room.
"Don't forget, baby, you owe me tonight!" Steve calls.
Regina simply smirks to herself, continuing back out towards the front of the shop. The sun's burning heat beats down upon her immediately as she steps outside. It's like walking into a wall. Shielding her eyes, Regina makes her way across the street to where she has conveniently parked her Harley.
It's just as she is about to climb onto her beloved motorcycle that she can't help but have this uncanny feeling that she's being watched. Her heart skips as Regina abruptly turns her head to see a figure in a dark hood standing hidden in the shadow of the carousel. Gasping softly, she shuts her eyes and shakes her head as if to clear the image. It seems to have done the trick, as once she opens her eyes again, the figure is gone.
"Now I'm seeing things," Regina murmurs. With a sigh, she shakes her head and revs the engine.
The next morning, Regina is up early as per usual; sitting down to her easel in the living room with a cup of coffee in hand. Reaching over, she twists the dial on her old radio, allowing sounds of MVY Radio to fill the air with its mystical ambiance.
The sketch of her newest masterpiece is almost finished. It's only a matter of time until Regina can finally add color and bring to life, this time, an image of the Vineyard's breathtaking clay cliffs at Aquinnah. Colored in swirls of reds, browns, oranges, and yellows, Aquinnah's cliffs attract tourists from all over to come and look at their spectacular sight. Photographers, like moths to the light, are drawn to the cliffs with need to capture the perfect picture. Artists from all over come ready and eager to try and recreate the masterpiece before their eyes. And that is exactly what Regina intends to do.
Balanced on the easel's tray is a picture, captured by Regina herself, to be used as a guide. The crystal clear day, on which the photo was taken, allowed the waters of the Vineyard Sound below to appear almost as clear and blue as the Caribbean; a perfect reflection of the sky above and the perfect juxtaposition of the harsher colors of the cliffs.
The soothing sounds of the radio are nothing but background noise as Regina finally places down her pencil and grabs her brush, dipping it in fresh red paint, primed and ready to be used. The first stroke is the scariest in her opinion. It's all about starting off a painting with a good stroke, as it sort of sets the scene for how the rest of the painting could go.
With a deep breath, Regina begins, moving her brush along the canvas with steadiness and precision; eyes focused on the task literally at hand.
"Regina."
Suddenly, she feels hands lie upon her shoulders and the brunette jumps, abruptly lifting the brush from the canvas so as not to accidentally ruin the painting.
"Steve! You know you can't do that while I'm painting," Regina chastises, her dark eyes boring into his as she turns to look at the man standing behind her.
Steve sighs. "I'm sorry, baby, but I was just going into town. Wondered if I could pick anything up for you while I'm there."
"No, I think I'm good for right now," Regina replies with a shake of her head. She leans up to press a quick peck to her boyfriend's lips. "Drive safe," she bids with a smirk.
Steve smiles down at her, reaching down to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't sit in front of that easel all day."
Regina laughs softly. "I won't," she answers, "I can't because Reya is coming over later."
"What?" Steve demands abruptly, "Since when?"
"Since when she came to the shop yesterday."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve looks pointedly down at his girlfriend.
Regina shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm sorry, I guess I forgot. We were a bit busy last night."
Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. "You know how I feel about her."
"You only met her, like, twice. You haven't even had a conversation with her. How do you even know what she's like?" It surprises Regina herself how she is so quick to defend the young girl.
"But she's been troubling you. These things—whatever the hell these things are that she's saying—are getting you all worked up. It's crazy. And all for what?"
"Steve, I know," Regina sighs, standing up quickly to face the distraught expression on her boyfriend's features. She reaches out and takes his hand, holding it tightly. "I know, and I won't pretend things are different—that they feel different. I don't understand why she's here. I don't understand any of this. But you have to trust me, remember? I have to see her. The sooner I get to the bottom of this, the better."
Steve sighs, shaking his head and taking a step back. Regina can very well tell that the man is on edge, the way the muscles in his neck strain. It frustrates her how the stories Reya had brought upon her as well as simply the girl's presence are now, in some way, affecting Steve as well. It's not fair.
"Fine," he breathes, letting out a long sigh. "Fine, Regina. But you have to figure this out."
"I will. I promise."
With a nod, Steve gives her a small smile before he's picking up his jacket from the couch and heading out the door. Regina groans exasperatedly, tossing down her paintbrush into a cup of water and collapsing onto the couch. If only she had answers.
And peace…that's all she asks.
It's just past lunch when Regina finally puts down her paintbrush. Steve has not come back yet, which isn't far from the usual as the man probably has, yet again, run into another one of his biker companions. It might as well be this way. Considering her boyfriend's dislike for Reya, it probably is best that he be out and about while the young girl visits.
Just past the one o' clock mark, the doorbell is ringing, and Regina is opening the door to find said young brunette and Robin standing on her front porch. Strangely, the older brunette feels as if she's overwhelmed with a sense of deja vu.
"Reya, Robin," Regina greets with a slight smirk.
Reya stands beside Robin, grinning up at her cursed mother. "You've got paint all over you," she comments.
"I've been painting," Regina answers with a shake of her head. She steps aside, allowing the two to enter into her humble abode. It's not unnoticeable how Robin surveys the interior of her home with interest. It somehow makes Regina smile.
"Oooh, is this your new painting?" Reya asks, skipping into the livingroom to come stand before Regina's freshly half-painted masterpiece.
"Yes," Regina states, approaching the young girl, "It's for a contest at the Agricultural Fair in a few week's time. So don't touch it."
Reya's eyes widen. "Cool!" she exclaims, "You think you're going to win a prize?"
"I sure hope so," Regina says with a slight smile.
"Well, I wish you all the luck," a voice behind her speaks. Regina turns to find Robin smiling gently down at her, and she can't help but widen her own smile that tugs involuntarily at her lips. "I can already tell by what you've done so far, it will look beautiful."
Regina laughs, shaking her head at him. "Stop the flattery, Robin," she says with a grin before looking to Reya. "Now, I know you're not here to ogle my painting, right?"
"Right," Reya replies firmly, "I'm here to look for clues and proof."
Regina sighs softly, running a hand through her hair. "All right," she says, "Please just don't make too much of a mess. And put things back where you found them."
Reya grins, giving Regina a thumb's up. "Got it," she states before skipping off.
Regina shakes her head, heading to take a seat on the couch. "That crazy kid," she remarks.
"She's quite the convincer," Robin adds, taking a seat beside her.
"Do you think she's going to find anything?" Regina asks, looking over towards the man who gazes with his deep blue eyes.
Robin shrugs slowly. "I don't know," he says, "But I told her that we'd both have to have much more than just words for us to believe what she's trying to tell us."
"So that's why she's so stuck on trying to find proof now. It's your fault."
"Mine?" Robin lifts his brows, feigning shock.
Regina smirks. "Yes, yours. Because of you, that little terror is now taking apart my house."
"You could have stopped her."
"Yes," Regina sighs, "I suppose I could have."
"Why didn't you?" Robin asks curiously.
"Because I want her to find nothing," Regina admits. She closes her eyes, breathing in deeply.
"Why is that?"
"I want her to find nothing because then it would mean that nothing she says is real. She'll leave us alone, and we can go back to the way our lives used to be." Regina opens her eyes and turns to look into Robin's, searching his profoundly upon hearing his mere silence. "Don't you want that?"
Robin sighs, shaking his head slowly. "I want what's real," he answers quietly.
It's silent as the fisherman's last statement hangs in the air. Regina sits silently beside him, arms folded; unsure of what to say, what to feel. She looks at this man sitting beside her.
"You got a new tattoo," Robin suddenly speaks, breaking their short spell of silence.
Regina glances down at her right foot to where the skin is still red and puffy, the stars appearing bright and angry before they are to heal and settle more softly into the skin. "I did," Regina answers.
"I like it," Robin compliments.
Regina smiles slightly. "Thanks," she replies, looking back towards him. She frowns slightly, tilting her head as her eyes are, for the first time, drawn towards a marking on the inside of the man's right wrist. "Looks like you have one too. I'm surprised I haven't noticed."
"You haven't cared enough to look," Robin quips with a smirk. He lifts his arm and holds his wrist out for the brunette to inspect.
"A lion on a shield," Regina hums. "Looks more of like some medieval crest. Forgive me, but that's a very strange tattoo, in my opinion. When did you get it?"
Robin sighs, shrugging a shoulder. Regina tilts her head as his features turn clueless. "Honestly, I don't remember."
Regina frowns. "How can you not remember getting a tattoo? Unless you were drunk?"
Robin shrugs again. "Maybe. It's something that boggles my mind too."
The brunette sighs, turning back to the bold lion tattoo on his wrist. She stares at it quietly, eyes tracing every outline of the lion and the black shield in which it lies. Regina has to admit, the tattoo is done very well. And for some odd and unknown reason, the more she stares at it, the more she can't help but feel as if she's seen it before…a long, long time ago. It's like a faded and distant memory clouded in haze.
Before she knows it, Regina is reaching out, her fingers brushing the tattoo. Suddenly, a light blinds her, and a soft gasp escapes her lips as an image, soft and hazy flashes like lightning through her mind.
"It represents courage, Regina, and strength," he says, gently caressing his queen's long locks as she sits upon his lap, holding his wrist in her hands.
"And it was the one thing I was given to remember you by," Regina whispers softly, caressing his tattoo with the gentleness of her fingers. "After all those years of denying love, happiness, you…" she looks into his sparkling sapphire eyes that flicker with the light of the fireplace, "…I never forgot the man with the lion tattoo."
Robin smiles softly, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his fiancé's lips. "I'm glad you didn't."
"It took me a while though," Regina sighs, glancing down from his gaze.
Robin shakes his head, using his free hand to tilt her head back upward to meet his searching eyes. "It took you just long enough for you to open your heart again. Timing is everything, Regina. You weren't ready. But now you are."
"Now I am," Regina sighs. She shakes her head softly. "I can't believe I'll be walking down that aisle."
"You better believe it," Robin states with a smirk, "It'll be your happy beginning."
"Our happy beginning," Regina corrects, smiling widely. It's incredible how she hasn't smiled like this in what feels like eons, but she has now in the arms of her lion-tattooed soulmate. "And it all started with this," she says, brushing his wrist.
The image fades from Regina's mind, melting away in front of her eyes so that she can see no more but the familiar interior of her living room, and the man who sits beside her on the couch with eyes full of worry.
"Regina, are you okay?" Robin asks slowly, looking intently at the stunned woman before him.
Regina blinks rapidly, shaking her head with a breath as if to shake the image that, although gone, has clearly left an imprint on her mind. "I'm fine," she replies breathily. She shakes her head again, fingers lifting from the man's wrist.
"I'm fine," she repeats. "It's nothing."
Thoughts? From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all again for your support, for all of your kind comments. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, thanks for coming by! Keep those comments coming and stay tuned for more!
*Credit to Lana's tattoo of stars on the top of her right foot ;) *