“Ovaries quivering yet?” Candace had asked her.
Starla had cocked an eyebrow at her. “Dude, I have ovaries of motherfucking steel.”
But she did love cuddling that baby. He was so sweet and smelled so good. Thinking of how close he’d come to losing his daddy never failed to take her breath away. The entire Dermamania crew confessed to still having nightmares about that night, but they were slowly getting better, all of them thankful they still had their friend here. That Candace still had her husband, and Lyric his father.
All was definitely as it should be. If Jared had only been a stepping stone to reach this pleasant height in her life, she supposed she would have to accept that. Enjoy the view she had, and not the one she wished she had, with him at her side.
Things could always be worse.
***
“The number you have reached is no longer in service…”
Jared could practically feel the blood leaving his face as he let the hand holding his phone drop to his lap. He could still hear the recording prattling on, but it scarcely registered. She’d changed her number.
He sat alone in his truck across the street from Dermamania. Starla’s car still wasn’t at work. This time, he’d planned to stop if she was there, but now several days in a row had gone by and she hadn’t been there once. Curiosity had become concern, and now outright panic, so he’d dared to try to call her. No luck. She’d said she was quitting, so maybe she’d followed through with that. But where was she? What was she doing?
Here they’d fought so hard to defeat a stalker, and he was on the verge of turning into one himself.
Jared had thought with Brian on the mend and everything settled on that front, she might reconsider her decision to leave her job; she might decide she needed her friends and stay at Dermamania after all. Okay, obviously that hadn’t happened. He drove to her house, going over in his head everything he needed to say, everything she deserved to hear. Maybe she would tell him to go to hell, in which case he supposed he would, forever doomed to replay in his head those hateful words they’d exchanged at his house the morning she left.
Her car wasn’t at the little house in the cul-de-sac either. There didn’t appear to be anyone there.
“Fuck!”
Jared clenched his fists to keep from punishing his steering wheel or dashboard. He didn’t relish resorting to the only solution he could imagine at this point, the one he’d shoved to the back of his mind from the start, but he wasn’t going to sit here and wait anymore either. All his life, waiting had gotten him jack shit.
The tattoo shop stayed open late—Jared could have spared himself some wounded pride and caught Ghost as he was leaving for the night, but he was ready to grovel on his knees in front of them all if need be. He snatched the door open and swept inside before he could talk himself out of it, immediately seeing that all of Starla’s things were gone from her station as if she had never been there. The cute blue-haired girl working across from Starla’s old workspace was staring at him with her carefully penciled eyebrows high in her smooth white forehead.
“Can I help you?”
“She’s not here anymore, dude.” Ghost spoke up from the back before he could answer. Jared hadn’t noticed him hunched over a client, working on an ankle piece. Muttering a thanks to the girl, he strode back. Ghost finished his line and wiped the ink before looking up at him, mouth set in a grim line. Obviously, he was waiting for Jared to ask the questions before he offered any information.
Pride went down hard, and it tasted like shit. The girl in Ghost’s chair looked back and forth between them in fascination.
“Where did she go?”
“Man, you know what she just went through.”
“All too well.”
“So I’m not going to tell you where she is so you can put her through it again.”
“You think I’d do that?”
“I don’t have to worry about it, because you’re not going to do anything. Leave her alone. She’s doing good, probably better than ever. Let that be enough for you.”
“Look, I know you don’t like me too much, for obvious reasons.” Ghost remained silent on that point, but he threw an apologetic glance at his client. “And a while back, the feeling was mutual. I’m over it now. It’s all in the past. You have to know by now that I would never do anything to hurt her. If she tells me to take a walk, then I walk.”
“That’s beautiful, dude.”
“Ghost, don’t be a shit.” The blue-haired girl had walked back to join them and pointed a finger at Jared. “You. Come talk to me.” She led him into a small break room that was off a short hallway where he waited impatiently while she got herself a drink out of the fridge. After offering him one, which he refused, she eyed him warily while she popped it open. Starla’s friends loved to torture him.
“Okay,” the girl began, “she told me everything that happened. Her version of it, anyway. Look, I’ve known that babe for years, and if there’s anyone on earth who realizes she’s made some questionable decisions in her life, it’s Star. You can’t be with her if you’re gonna throw them in her face. She told me she knew you’d turn from her at some point, and you only proved her right.”
“I know. I know. I promised her I wouldn’t, and I did. I only want to make it up to her.” He took a breath. “For the rest of her life.”
The girl practically hooted with laughter. “That’s a bold statement considering who we’re talking about. You sure about that?”
“As long as she’ll let me, then.”
Crossing her arms, Starla’s friend sobered and eyed him curiously. Then she stuck out one hand. “I’m Janelle.”
He shook it. “Nice to meet you.”
“Take care of her. Brian put her over the new shop in Everton. She has her own apartment over there now. I’ll give you the shop address, but it’s up to her if you get the rest. She’ll probably kill me.”
All that information made him smile inside. It was everything she’d wanted, wasn’t it? A complete change of scenery without quitting what she loved to do. No wonder she was doing so well, if Ghost could be believed. Did she really need him waltzing in to disrupt her new life? The smile died as quickly as it had come, but whatever happened, he would be happy for her. When it came to their future, or lack of one, as he’d promised Ghost, he would honor and support whatever choice she made.
But please, God, let her choose me.
“Thank you so much,” he said, accepting the card Janelle handed him announcing the grand opening of Dermamania’s new location.
“I think,” she said thoughtfully, “we should really try to blow her mind. Nothing too outrageous, or she really will kill me. Something fun.”
Whatever, he only wanted her. But they spent the next several minutes laying down plans.
As Jared headed for the front door of the shop almost at a run, Ghost, having finished with his client, called out to him. “Good luck, man. Not necessarily because I wish you well but because you’re gonna fuckin’ need it.”
Jared stopped at the door. “Come on. You wish me well at least a little, don’t you? After everything we’ve been through together?”
Ghost waved a hand toward the door, but Jared detected the hint of a grin on his face as the other guy turned away. “All right, all right, don’t push it. Get outta here.”
As he breezed out, he heard Ghost tell Janelle, “Fuckin’ need to rename this place Drama-mania.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
“Why are you sending him here?”
“You really need to meet this guy. And I’m booked up. He only wants his kids’ names in ink. You’ll be done in no time.”
Starla sighed as Janelle continued her pitch over the phone. “Whatever, send him. I’m open right now. Only because of the work, though, don’t expect any hookups. I told you—”
“I know what you told me, but never say never, right? Really, babe, this guy. Whew! Make sure you look cute, you know, just in case. Don’t go anywhere, he’ll be over in half an hour. Love ya!”
The line went dead, and Starla grumbled a curse. Look cute, right.
No.
She had on precisely two strokes of eyeliner and some three-hour-old lip gloss in the way of makeup, with her hair in a topknot to hide her two-inch-long dark roots. “Cute” wasn’t happening today, and she didn’t give a shit. “Cute” had gotten her into a fuck-ton of trouble. And lately she was far more comfortable in a pair of yoga pants than jeans. Having her own kitchen at last was a blessing and a curse, it seemed. If she wasn’t careful, she wouldn’t even be able to fit into her jeans before long, especially since she’d stopped smoking.
She didn’t care much about her weight either. Her cupcakes were awesome. So was wine. But damn, she did miss cigarettes.
Like now. Ordinarily, she would step out for a smoke since she had some time to kill before Janelle’s hottie client showed up. That wasn’t an option now, so she went for a walk around the block instead, allowing that maybe she cared a little more about an expanding waistline than she wanted to admit to herself.