Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
My next client interrupts my mental self-flagellation when he ambles through the door. His name is Lopez. One of my regulars. He’s inked from his feet to his shaved scalp, including a face tattoo—done by yours truly—that curves along the line of his jaw. The guy is so covered that I’m running out of room for ink.
“Hi.” Lo smiles warmly, not seeming even slightly put off by his appearance. I like that about her. She doesn’t judge anyone and treats everyone equally. “I think Dare’s ready for you,” she says without sparing me a glance. Lopez lifts his chin at me in greeting, and I wave him over.
“Who’s the dime piece up front?” Lopez asks once he’s in my chair. Lo pretends not to hear, but I see her back straighten.
“New girl,” I answer shortly. I snap my gloves on my hands and get to work on the piece. He wants “hopeless” in script above his left eyebrow. I will myself to relax—to let shit go—so I don’t unintentionally dig my needle too deep. Not that Lopez would mind. He’s in it for the pain, but he wouldn’t be too thrilled if my heavy hand caused scarring or an infection.
The session is quick, and after Lopez pays Lo, he walks backwards, looking her up and down, doing nothing to hide the fact that he’s checking her out before sending a wink in her direction.
This motherfucker.
I toss my gloves and wash my hands, and when I return, Lo’s cleaning my station. Her long, brown hair falls into her face as she bends over to wordlessly pick up an empty water bottle Lopez left behind. She puts on a good front, but I can tell she’s upset. Withdrawn. And suddenly, my shit takes the back seat. I have the urge to fix her problems. To get the fiery Lo back, that smile back—the real one.
Without thinking twice, I reach forward and swipe my thumb under her eye, rubbing away a streak of black. Hazel eyes flash up to mine, her lashes still wet and stuck together from crying.
“I’m sorry,” I say, not giving a fuck who hears me, letting my thumb linger on her cheek. Lo averts her eyes, severing the contact.
“Me, too. He shouldn’t have shown up like that. I don’t even know how he found me.” Her tone is deceptively casual, trying to minimize the situation.
“Cord, watch the door and listen for the phone for me?”
“Sure thing.”
I offer my palm to Lo, and this time she slips her hand into mine without hesitation. It’s small and warm against my skin. I lead her to the drawing room, hoping to convey with my eyes that I’m not going to freak out on her again while simultaneously hoping I can keep the unspoken promise.
Once inside, Lo leans her back against the door, closing it with a quiet snick. I take a seat on the couch, patting the space next to me. Lo angles her body toward me, one leg bent on the couch, one foot on the floor. I scrub both hands through my hair, not knowing where to begin.
“You don’t know how he found you?” She mentioned that he had ways of finding things out, and the fact that this guy not only got ahold of her number but her whereabouts doesn’t sit well with me.
“I have no idea. I haven’t told anyone where we are—” Lo stops short, eyes widening in realization. “My mom,” she says, shaking her head. “My fucking mother. Jess slipped up. Let her know where we were staying. It’s the only thing that makes sense. She’s the reason he has my phone number, too, I’m sure.”
“Stay with me tonight,” I say, surprising us both.
“What?” She’s taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation, but it makes perfect sense in my mind. Her ex is a threat. My house is safe. Simple.
“Stay with me,” I say more firmly this time. “We don’t know if he’s going to show up at your house or your job again tomorrow.” This guy doesn’t seem like he has any intention of giving up.
“I told you, he’s not dangerous. Besides, I can’t just leave Jess…”
“Goddammit, Lo. The guy manhandled you. Don’t tell me he’s not dangerous. He stalked you. He’s not going after your fucking brother.”
Lo sucks in a breath, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling, clearly losing patience. She pulls out her phone and taps at the screen for a minute before addressing me.
“Oh,” she says, a shocked expression on her face.
“What?”
“Jess is out to dinner…with Henry.”
“That’s good, right?” I ask, unable to read her reaction.
“It’s really good.” She taps out another text. “He also has no idea Eric’s in town. He would’ve been blowing my phone up.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking, before continuing, “I’m not going to bother him with this tonight. Jess hates him. He’d just worry if he knew, and he has enough on his plate.”