Where Good Girls Go To Die (Good Girls #1)

Madison hesitated only a second before she turned on her heel and marched out the door, the chime echoing throughout the building. Livy pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, and I knew she was trying to control herself. Trying to hide everything she was feeling in that moment.

She shook her hands out then her eyes met mine. She held my stare for a moment, giving away too much of herself, but not nearly enough. I wanted nothing more than to run to her and hold her against me. I wanted to tell her that she was nothing like Madison, that they didn’t have a damn thing in common. There were so many things I wanted to tell her. So many things that were on the tip of my tongue, but I had a client lying in my chair, gloves on my hands, and a fiancée that I seemed to keep forgetting about when I was around her.

So instead of doing everything I wanted to, I reached for the control on the wall turning up the radio, then I went back to work trying to numb out everything that was running through my mind.





By the time I came up for air, it was dark outside and there was no one around. I rang my client up since Livy wasn’t at her desk then shook his hand. He was a quiet guy. We barely spoke a handful of words during his session, but he was beyond happy with my work and that was all that mattered.

The door chimed as he walked out, and I wondered where in the hell everyone was. Staci’s laugh rang out through the shop and I followed the sound into Brandon’s workspace.

As soon as I saw them, rage filled me.

I had no right to feel that way.

It was insanity that I did, but it didn’t change anything.

It rushed through my veins.

It took over every rational thought.

Livy was lying back in Brandon’s chair, her shirt rolled up to the bottom of her breasts, her stomach completely on display.

I loved seeing the smooth skin of her stomach. It reminded me of times when we had gone swimming together, of the times I had her body under my touch, but then memories of her dancing half naked in front of my friends ran through my mind and seeing Brandon’s hands on her now took every good memory I had and ruined them.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Livy looked up at me, confused. I didn’t blame her. I was confused myself.

“I’m about to give Livy her first tattoo,” Brandon said without looking up at me.

Staci was swiveling in a chair next to Livy, and she had a grin on her face that was often there. It was full of mischief.

“It’s not happening.”

Brandon’s hands stopped pressing the transfer paper against Livy’s skin, and he finally turned to look at me.

“I’m sorry. What?” Livy sat up, crumbling the design that rested against her body, making me smile.

I looked at her. Only at her. “If you want a tattoo, then I’ll do it. Otherwise, it’s not happening.” I knew that I sounded like a maniac. Hell, I felt like one, but there was no way that I was allowing Brandon to ink her body. Not for her first time. Maybe not ever.

Just the thought of his hands running over her skin as he marked her for life was driving me insane.

Livy looked to Brandon for help maybe or advice. Either way, it pissed me off even more.

“Brandon?”

He didn’t turn to look at her though. He was staring at me, watching me with his gaze that could see straight through me.

“It’s cool, Liv,” he said. “Let Parker do your first tattoo. Maybe he’ll even do that drawing that you really wanted. You know the one, Parker? The heart with all the butterflies.”

That motherfucker.

He knew what that drawing meant to me. He knew why I had always refused to tattoo it on anyone.

It reminded me of Livy. I think subconsciously, I drew it for her.

“Parker James,” Livy stood, pulling down her shirt. “You piss me the fuck off.”

She stormed out of the room, knocking into my chest on her way out the door. Brandon and Staci both tried to stifle their laugh so I flipped them the bird before I walked out, following her.

“You piss me off too, Livy.”

She stopped in her tracks, her hand resting on the desk, and her chest heaving in anger.

“What the hell did I do to piss you off?” She turned toward me.

“You knew that I’d be mad if you let Brandon tattoo you. Is that why you did it? To get under my skin?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why would I want under your skin, Parker?”

“I don’t know.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “But you promised me that I would be the first person to ever tattoo you.”

It was a stupid thing to say. Did she promise me that? Yes. Was that a long ass time ago? Yes again.

“Are you kidding me? That was over four years ago. Four fucking years.” She held up four fingers for emphasis. “And you promised me way more than that, buddy. I guess it’s my turn to start breaking some promises.”

Her words hit their mark, exactly where she intended for them to, and I felt it burn in my chest.

She pulled her bag from underneath her desk then looked up at me again. “I’m going home for the night.”

“Okay,” I said hesitantly.

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” She gave me an evil look, and I wanted to close the few steps that were separating us. I wanted to kiss the attitude right out of her. I wanted to apologize for everything I had ever done to her with the touch of my lips, and I wanted to punish her for still making me want her with the force of my tongue and the nip of my teeth.

But instead, I let her walk out, and I had no clue what I was thinking.





P A R K E R





Four years and five and a half months earlier



I hated the smell of nursing homes. As soon as the smell hit me, it made me feel depressed and lonely, but my hand was resting in Livy’s as we walked toward my grandfather’s room.

“Hey, Papa,” I called out as soon as we walked in the door.

It smelled different in his room. The scent of tobacco and leather filled the air, and it reminded me of all the time I had spent with this man.

“Well I’ll be damned if it isn’t my Livy.” He was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, and he looked happy.

“Hey, Papa.” She waved, but he wasn’t having any of that.

“Girl, get your ass over here and give me some love.”

She giggled as she made her way to him, and he pulled her into his arms. His grip was a lot weaker than it used to be, but I could see him cling to her with everything he had.

She sat down in the chair next to him, and he gripped her hand in his.

“How are you, Livy?”

“I’m really good.” She smiled at him. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m living the dream.” He lifted his free hand in the air and motioned around the room. “I have all this, plus some good-looking nurses who take care of me, and I’m the reigning champion of bingo.”

She laughed at his antics, and he smiled at her, a broad smile that could never be faked. That was the thing about Papa. He was always genuine, and he always made everyone happier just by being around him.

“Ummm… Hi, Papa.” I waved at him from his bed, and Papa rolled his eyes.

“Oh, hi, Parker.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re my favorite grandson in the world.”

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