She laughs. “No, but I know a guy who knows a guy.”
That makes me laugh too. “Your guys ain’t shit.”
She rolls her eyes and it’s something so normal, it takes me back for a second. Bee is so different from any girl I know, that even something as simple as rolling her eyes is too ordinary for her.
“So what are we doing?” I need to get my mind off her and stop having fun and get to work. That’s what I’m here for.
“I started a little already. I have tons more supplies I’ve been organizing in the supply closet and I have a box full of pictures. I’m thinking about changing out some of the samples in my portfolios. I don’t like to put it all out, but if I switch it up from time to time, it gives my clients fresh material.” She winks. “Makes it look like I’m doing a lot more work than I really am right now.”
Crossing my arms, I also shake my head. “That’s dirty.”
“You don’t like dirty?” she tosses back, making me smile.
“I didn’t say that.” My gut clenches when I think about this back-and-forth we have going. It’s easy when nothing’s been easy in so fucking long.
“Yeah, I had a feeling you’d say that.”
Without replying, I go toward the back. There’s not much more to say without dragging on this moment that I’m still unsure how I feel about. We rearrange the boxes, pulling out what she needs and packing away what she doesn’t. I take what she needs to the supply closet while Bee unpacks and puts everything where she needs it.
She’s had enough out for Masquerade to run, but something makes me wonder why she hasn’t unpacked everything before now. It’s almost like she wasn’t sure she’d stay, but I know this place is hers, so that doesn’t make sense.
Why does it matter? It’s not my business either way.
A couple hours later we’re done with all that, so I pull out the small box with her pictures of her tattoos. We go into the front of the shop, Bee sitting at the table at her desk and me in another chair in front of it.
I open the box and stick my hand in before something makes me meet Bee’s eyes. She nods as if to say, Go for it, so I pull out a stack and start looking through them.
I only make it through a couple photos before I think, Jesus, she’s good. Really fucking good.
“How’d you get into tattooing?” I ask.
“Same as you, I guess. I asked someone if I could apprentice and they said yes.”
My first reaction is to be pissed at her half-answer, but I bury it with all the other thoughts and feelings I want to keep as far from the surface as I can. I don’t really need to know every detail about her, do I?
“We should make an art portfolio for you that you wouldn’t mind sharing. We could put it up in the shop, or if you wanted to wait until you start tatting, we could put it out then.”
“Nah. Not yet.” What’s the point when they’re only drawings?
“You should. Think about it, Scratch. Eventually you’re going to want to leave your mark in someone’s skin. They’re trusting you to create art on their body. You don’t have tattoo experience to show them, but you have some really incredible raw talent that’s going to get their attention. You’d be smart to do it.”
This urge fights to make it to the surface—one that wants to ask her if she really thinks I’m talented. She’s said so before, but words are just fucking words sometimes. They don’t always mean something. She doesn’t strike me as a person who says something she doesn’t mean, though.
And as much as I don’t like them to, her compliment feels good. “Hey—”
Knock, knock, knock.
Turning, I look at the door to see who’s there. Everything inside me seems to shut off in an instant when I see Laney on the other side of the glass.
In what feels like a second, I’m standing, unlocking the door, and pushing it open. “What happened?” Adrian stands behind her. His friend Colt is behind him and Colt’s girlfriend, Cheyenne, is next to Colt.
Then I’m disconnected for a different reason. Nothing’s wrong, but they’re all here, pushing their way into the only part of my life that actually feels like it’s mine. It’s a clash of my worlds. Laney doesn’t feel like she belongs here.
Laney says, “I didn’t know the shop was closed today. I want a tattoo.”
“Me too!” Cheyenne pipes in from behind them.
“We’re closed.” Which they obviously know. My hand tightens on the door handle, selfishly not wanting to share this with them.
“Who’s this?” Bee walks up behind me and grabs the door. It takes everything inside me to let her open it.
I’m going to kill my sister. She won’t look at me because she knows I’m pissed. Before she came down here, she knew I would be. “My sister.” I fight to keep my voice steady.
“Laney,” she says, looking at Bee. “This is my boyfriend, Adrian, and this is Colt and Cheyenne.”
“Hey.” Bee nods at them. “You want ink?”
“We’re closed,” I remind her.
Bee doesn’t hesitate to lock her eyes with mine. “And I own the shop, so I can change that whenever I want.” She pulls the door open wide and all four of them file inside.
My hands sink into my pockets so no one will see how tense they are.
“Yeah, I wanted to get something. Cheyenne too. Like I said, I didn’t know you’d be closed, though. We can come back,” Laney tells her.
“Nah, it’s cool. We can do this.”
“What are you talking about, Laney? You’ve never said you wanted a tattoo.” I step between her and Bee. I’m not completely sure why it bothers me so much—maybe because it doesn’t feel like something my sister would do? Because it’s easier for me to keep my worlds separate? It feels wrong.
“So. I do now. What’s wrong with that?”
I know why she’s doing this. It’s because of me. She’s trying to do what she always does and fit herself into a situation so she can try and fix things or check on me. How many times can I tell her I don’t need her to fix me?
“Where do you want me to start? Don’t be stupid.”
“Hey.” Adrian grabs my arm. “Back up. You talk to her like that and we’re going rounds again.”
I jerk my arm away. Who the fuck does he think he is? I’m her family. I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of her. I’m the one who failed her. Failed them all.
“And I’ll kick your ass again.”
He steps up and Laney grabs him. I try to step forward, too, but then . . . Bee grabs me.
“Hey . . . Scratch.”
My body’s tight, so fucking tense, my jaw locked. It would feel good to hit Adrian again. To hit something, but then, as if on autopilot, I’m turning to face Bee instead. “What?” I grit out.
“What? She’s too good for ink? I’m not and you’re not and all the people you plan to tattoo in the future aren’t, but it’s a big fucking deal if it’s your sister?”
My jaw starts to slacken. “That’s not what I meant.” Is it? “She’s being impulsive and that’s not usually like her.”
Bee’s green eyes penetrate the fog around me. Work through this anger that I don’t get about my sister getting ink. The urge to pull away tugs at me, wants me to escape so she can stop trying to read me.
She lowers her voice, looking at me pointedly. “She’s a big girl. Don’t worry about it, Scratch. I’ll take care of her.”
The honesty in her words rolls through me. It’s a stupid thing to get pissed about, I get it, but she’s my sister and I don’t want anything for her that’s not perfect. She deserves it. Don’t worry about it, Scratch. I’ll take care of her. I kind of hate that I believe her.
Bee’s hand briefly squeezes mine. Fuck, I hadn’t even realized she was holding it. I yank away.
“Whatever.” Eyes on the desk, I walk over and lean on it. Bee starts talking to Laney, getting ideas about what she wants. My sister keeps glancing at me before looking at Bee again. Adrian has his hands on h
er hips, not letting go of her, while Colt and Cheyenne walk around, looking at the pictures on the walls.
I see the questions in Laney’s eyes, but I fight to ignore them, even in my own head. She’s trying to see something in the fact that I quit arguing. It’s a tattoo. It’s what I want to do with my life. Not a big deal.
Then why was it at first?
Bee walks over as Adrian and Laney head to the chair.
“Look at you, being such a papa bear over your sister. Tsk, tsk. It’s only a little ink.” She fingers the tattoo on my arm, and I jerk away again.
“You’re pouting. She wants two Chinese symbols. It’s not a big deal.”
“Of what?” I grunt because at least if she’s going to get work, it should be something cool.
“Love, I’m assuming for him.” She nods toward Adrian. “And family for her brother.”
Her words hit me harder than the satisfied look on Bee’s face. It does exactly what it’s supposed to, guilt spreading through me like wildfire.
I look at the four of them on the other side of the room and whisper, “It’s not a big deal. I really don’t care if she gets inked. We’ve been through a lot. I don’t like to see her hurt. I don’t want her to have any regrets.”
There’s movement in the corner of my eye, so I glance back at Bee. Her head’s cocked a little, her eyes trying to work me out. As if she realizes it, she straightens up and offers me a small smile. “I said I’d take care of her. Come watch. That’s what you’re here for, right?”
I nod because she’s right. “I’ll set up,” I tell her before walking away. Bee sits down at the desk and prints out the images for Laney’s piece.
As I walk to the sink, my sister steps up to me. “Still freaking out over nothing?”
“Nope.”
She pauses. I hate that fucking stall because I know it means she’s going to say something I don’t want to hear. She’s always trying to look for emotional shit that’s not there. She wants to analyze me when I don’t need it. “You . . . you listened to her.”
My jaw ticks, but I don’t turn to look at her. “I don’t listen to her. It’s not a big deal.”
Without another word, I wash my hands before getting everything set up. Only a few minutes later, Bee’s placing the thermographic transfer paper to the back of Laney’s neck, leaving the two symbols behind.
“Look good?” she asks my sister after handing her a mirror. Laney uses the refection from the one behind her to check it out.
“Perfect,” she answers before looking at Adrian.
“So sexy, Little Ghost,” he replies before nuzzling her neck.
My body tenses up when Laney leans over the chair. Adrian sits in front of her, smiles, and grabs her hands. I watch as he raises one to his mouth and kisses it. I feel like a pervert for watching them, but I don’t fucking get it. I don’t understand that need to touch and hold someone, or how it helps when things are shitty. But it does help her, because I see the nerves leak from my sister’s body, which makes the same thing happen to Adrian.
It’s like they’re one fucking person and even though I hate it, I can’t help studying it too.
Bee washes her hands and snaps on her gloves. That steady buzz of the tattoo gun fires up. I flinch when it comes down on Laney’s skin. She doesn’t. Not when Adrian is sitting in front of her, holding her.
How? I don’t get how they can trust someone like that.
As Bee works, I can’t help moving forward until I’m standing next to her and watching as she puts a permanent mark on Laney’s neck.
The top symbol—love—is red and the other in black. It takes Bee longer than I thought it would since it’s not that in-depth. When she’s done, leaving behind the tattoo and red, puffy skin, she looks up at me and I know—I fucking know she took her time, made it perfect to keep her word. To take care of my sister.
Thank you.
Chapter Eleven
~Bee~
Cheyenne’s boyfriend, Colt, holds her almost the same way Laney’s did as I give her a tattoo. Hers goes even quicker than Maddox’s sister’s because she’s only getting a quote. A cool quote about making your own fate.
My mind isn’t much on that, though. It’s stupid. I see couples in here all the time and don’t really pay it any attention, but I can’t help but study the way Maddox’s four friends are. Though maybe friends isn’t the right word. He obviously doesn’t get along well with Adrian and he’s only said a couple words to Colt.
There’s something about them that catches my attention. It’s the way each couple is with each other, like they’ve fought the world to be where they are, and I kind of envy that. It’s not as though I’m looking for a partner or I haven’t been through stuff, because I have, but for the first time, I wish I dealt with it differently. Not because of my family like I usually do, but for me.
“All done,” I tell Cheyenne. Colt still holds her hand as she goes to the mirror to look at it.
Maddox steps up next to me. “I like the font.”
“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.” It’s sort of old-fashioned-looking, almost medieval, yet thin, feminine. “It fits your art style, actually,” I tell him. “It’s almost like there’s knowledge to it.”
Maddox glances over at me, those gray eyes that have the same knowledgeable quality. “Yeah?” he asks, with a hit of vulnerability I’m not used to from him.
“Yep.” And then I turn away, because he suddenly feels too close. “You like it?” I ask Cheyenne. It looks good on her shoulder.
“Absolutely. It’s gorgeous.” She’s still looking in the mirror while Colt traces a tattoo on his wrist that says Mom. Yeah, these people have definitely been through more than most.
“You do great work.” Laney steps up next to her brother.
“Thanks. I’m glad you guys like them.”
“How much do we owe you?”
Without thinking, I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. You’re with Scratch, so—”
“No,” Maddox interrupts.
I almost argue with him that I don’t usually do things like that and not to look a gift horse in the mouth when I realize what his answer’s about. He thinks he’ll owe me if we do that. I’m not sure I want him to owe me either. Luckily, Adrian jumps in and speaks. “He’s right. This is your business. It’s not a big deal.” Nodding, I head over to the desk to check the time. After I tell them how much they owe, and they pay, Laney says, “You should hang out with us sometime.”
Maddox tenses and a small smile curves Adrian’s lips. The two guys obviously feel differently about what she asked, which tells me it has a deeper meaning than saying hi to the new girl in town.
Not a good idea, but it’s not like I can be rude to her either. “Cool. Thanks. I don’t have much extra time right now since I’m trying to get Masquerade off the ground, but maybe we can figure something out sometime.”
The little downturn of her lips says she realizes the answer is no. It’s not smart to entangle my life any more with Maddox’s. I’ve already slept with him twice and he’s here with me practically every day.
“Okay. Sure. You can get a hold of me through Maddy if you’re interested.”
“Maddy, huh?” I lift my eyebrows at Maddox, but he shakes his head.
Laney gives him a hug. He quickly pats her on the back and pulls away. Then the four of them walk out, leaving Maddox and I alone again. He leans against the front of my desk and I move over to stand next to him. I’m not sure why I do.
“You’re protective,” I say.
“She’s all I have.” The words have to squeeze past his lips his mouth is so tight.
I’ve never been one to pry in other people’s business because I’ve never let myself really care enough to do it, but everything inside of me is begging to ask him why. Why is it only two of them? What are their secrets? Why does Maddox think it’s his job to take care of her?
Even though I want to, I don’t. Wondering about him shouldn??
?t be something I’m trying to keep myself from doing. It usually happens automatically.
So instead of asking, something equally as crazy falls out of my mouth. “You do a good job.”
A blast of heat seems to shoot off Maddox and slam right into me. Anger? Pain? I’m not sure.
“Not really. You don’t know anything about us.”
Moving over, I stand in front of him and cross my arms. “I do have eyes. She’s happy, you care about her, and she cares about you. Feels like about as close to success as a person can get.”
And she does love him. Even if she hadn’t come in here begging me to give him a chance, I would have been able to see that today.
“Looks can be deceiving.”
A little jolt hits me in the chest. He’s right. People assume my life was horrible because I was kidnapped. They think it was automatically perfect when I went home. Feeling and situations behind the scenes often make things look like something other than what they are. “You need to stop saying things like that to me.” My voice is low. When Maddox raises his eyes to me, I know he sees what I mean. Words like that make me feel close to him.
Instead of taking them back, he continues to stare at me, this smoldering look in his eyes that threatens to burn me alive. I welcome the forbidden flames.
His finger hooks through the belt loop on my jeans. His tug is gentle, but I come easily, the whole time yelling at myself, Back up! It’s too much. You can’t do this with him again.
“Stop making me want you.” The same heat from his eyes is now in his words.
“Stop letting me have you,” I reply, and it seems to inflame him more.
He pulls me closer again, right between his legs, as the other hand moves up to cup my cheek. His stare alone is burning me alive. Neither of us are smiling, both torn by this wild desire and the need to push the other away.
“Pretty soon we’re going to hate each other if we keep doing this.” The knowledge makes me a little sad, but I fight to bury it beneath my craving for him.
“I know.” And yet, he still leans forward and I do too. Our lips are close, so so close, that I smell him and feel him and almost taste him when—“Oh my God! Told you they’re open! I knew I saw someone inside.”