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Enough(93)

By:Jade Chandler


A laugh rose from deep inside me. “Didn’t you screw someone last night with tits?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think of you that way.”

“Too old? Too ugly?” I teased him.

His cheeks reddened, and I laughed harder.

“You’re like my sister. Happy now?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, I’ll quit tormenting you.”

“Hey.” Dare strode into the workroom.

I stared at my toes and then found my spine. “Hey, you need the numbers?”

He nodded.

“They’re in the office.” I moved past him and down the hall. My heart beat fast, and my mouth went dry.

I gave him the month totals. “Of course, it’s down because we closed a few days in October, but five percent better than last October.”

“Thanks, Lila.”

He strode out the door and rode away on the bike I would never ride on again.

Emotion strangled me, twisting my muscles until I wanted to curl up in the fetal position.

I breathed in a deep and rhythmic way until my chest relaxed. I chanted a single phrase: I can survive this.

“You okay?” Zayn’s voice startled me.

“Yeah.”

“Thinking about your ink.” He had a pad in his hand. “What if we put a flower, like the one on your hip, but kind of sad or withered, with blood welling and dripping from it?”

I grabbed him and kissed his cheek. “Perfect. How’d you remember my flower?”

He blushed again. “Not easy to forget.”

I smacked his head. “That’s no way to think about your sister.”

We shared a laugh and I felt a little better. Putting the Walk On Back sign on the desk, I followed him back.

“Will you make a stencil?” I wasn’t sure how he preferred to work.

“Yup, just give me a minute. You need a drape?”

“Whatever makes you more comfortable.” I winked at him.

“What kind of badass biker would I be if I draped you now?” He gestured for me to lose my top.

I peeled off my tank. My front-fastening bra probably was low enough so I left it on.

“Put it here.” I brushed the area over my heart. “Make the blood drip here, between my breasts.” I grabbed his drawing. “Can you add a deep color, like poison? Webbed up from the base of the flower?”

“Wicked, Mama.” He surveyed my chest. “First piece on the front. Wow. An honor.”

“I planned to fill my back before I moved on, but it needs to be here.” I pointed to my heart.

I sat in his chair and leaned back, anticipating the pain. He prepared his tools and taped the picture to a mirror by the chair. Soon the gun touched my skin. Pain swept over me, not terrible pain, but enough to take over my mind, leaving it blank.

“Holy shit.” Avery’s voice made my eyes pop open.

“Hey, what you doing here?” I asked.

Zayn didn’t stop the work. I glanced at the time—ten until five. His client would be here soon.

“I have to change our date at Blue’s to six, instead of later.” She gulped, looking from Zayn to me.

“Yeah, it should work,” I said as the front bell rang.

Mark sauntered back.

Shit. I forgot he was Zayn’s five o’clock.

He smiled wide. Apparently, he enjoyed the up-close view of my breasts. Zayn stopped working and glanced at Mark, frowning at the way he ogled me.

“I got maybe fifteen here with Mama. You mind if I start with you late?”

Mark definitely didn’t mind.

“Then I’m staying too.” Avery grinned at me. “Research for my first one.”

Zayn lifted a brow at Avery’s announcement and then turned to me. A question in his gaze.

“It’s fine. Thanks for waiting, Mark.” The buzz started again, shooting pain up my sternum as he added the drops of blood. A clean pain. Honestly, I craved more and wished I’d picked a bigger piece.

“Mirror or picture?” he asked.

I picked a mirror, even if it wasn’t as accurate. I didn’t want my boobs in his camera memory. He spun the barber’s chair toward the mirror. The finished piece was beautiful, with hints of color, but my skin showed through in several places. A trace of black lingered in the center of the flower—the poison. A crimson line flowed from the flower and the three red drops trailed down the split of my breasts.

“It’s perfect. You’re right, this is much better than my idea.” He was talented, almost as talented as Dare. In a few years, Zayn might surpass him.

He grabbed the Teflon gauze we used to cover new tats.

“Can I see, um, closer?” Avery stood beside me.

“You, yes.” I stuck my thumb over my shoulder. “Not Mark.”