No. “What do you want to know?”

“Would I be right to assume the scar on your hip and the ones on your back happened at the same time?” he prompted.

“They did.” I compartmentalized the memories, pushing them down, willing myself to stay in the present.

“A while back, you said your mom passed away . . .” he trailed off.

“She was with me.”

“Anyone else?” He turned off the tattoo machine, his attention focused on me.

“My dad was there, too.”

“And he’s okay?” Hayden asked. His hope made my heart ache even more.

I shook my head. Tears made him blurry.

“Oh, kitten.” He stripped off his gloves and stroked my cheek. “What happened? Were you in a car accident?”

“We were on a plane. The engine failed.” I barely managed to get the words out.

His mouth went slack. “It crashed?”

I nodded. A tidal wave of emotion rose in me. I’d fought so hard against it, keeping it from pulling me under. I hadn’t considered the possibility that I might find someone who would understand what I had endured and want me anyway, even though I wasn’t whole. For the first time since the crash, I wanted to believe Hayden might empathize with me over the guilt I carried . . . that he might not reject me for my cowardice.

“How did you survive? Wait. You don’t have to answer that. I’m so fucking sorry. I should know better.” He wiped at my tears, but they kept coming, the dam broken. “I’m sorry I pushed. I won’t ask any more questions tonight, okay? I promise. I’ll just let it be for now. I’m so sorry.”

He was frantic in his attempt to calm me. His hands were on my face, in my hair, stroking down my arms. I stilled them with my own, his anxiety canceling mine out.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.” I repeated the phrase in my head until it was true.

“You don’t have to be okay. I know it’s hard,” Hayden said, kissing my forehead.

I shook my head in denial. He didn’t know anything. I’d omitted the most significant details to make telling him bearable.

He rearranged me carefully until I was facing him. I didn’t resist. I wanted his comfort; craved it. One hand rested low on my waist, the other curved around the back of my neck, and he pulled me into his lap. It was the closest he could get to a hug. I, on the other hand, wrapped myself around him and held on tight.

“Thank you for telling me,” he whispered.

When my tears dried up, he gave me the option to stop for the night or finish the outline. I chose the latter. It didn’t take long. He was right about the pain; it was all relative. In comparison to what I’d been through, four hours of discomfort was nothing.

When he finished, he turned off the tattoo machine and set it down. His eyes moved over my back, inspecting the art with a critical eye. “We’re done,” he said, satisfied.

“Can I see?” I asked.

“Of course.”

Once again he helped me out of the chair and led me to the three-way mirror. The level of detail was breathtaking. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, too caught up in the dark beauty of the wings now etched into my skin.

“Tenley?”

“Hm?” I glanced at him; he was chewing on his viper bites.

“Are you happy with it?” he asked.

“It’s stunning.” No longer concerned with modesty, I tossed the towel on the chair. “Thank you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and tugged, bringing his mouth down. My emotions were out of control. I wanted him closer, I wanted to push him away. I wanted him inside me, erasing the pain that shredded my insides and echoed over my back.

Hayden’s kiss was gentle, his touch soft. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you let me dress the tattoo?”

“Okay.” Even though he still wore gloves, I laced my fingers through his, unwilling to break our connection. It was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

It hurt when he wiped over the ink a final time and slathered it in a salve. Next, he covered it with plastic wrap and taped it down as an added layer of protection. He talked about aftercare as he worked and I tried to listen, but I kept zoning out. As the adrenaline faded, I was left aching and exhausted.

Once the tattoo was dressed, Hayden helped me into my shirt and fastened the buttons.

“Let’s get you home, kitten.” He opened the door, stepped into the hall, and froze. “Mother of fuck.”

A tall, thin woman with bleached blond hair stood across from Lisa. Her makeup was over the top, as though she expected to be on camera, or maybe a stage. The way she leaned over the counter made her micro-miniskirt ride perilously high on her thigh. Chris’s client couldn’t stop staring, which made me wonder what kind of show she was providing. Even though it was mid-October, she wore a sequined tank top that exposed an inch of midriff. It could have covered more if her chest hadn’t been quite so disproportionately massive, stretching out the material until it looked like it might split at the seams.

There was a huge tattoo on her shoulder that traveled up the side of her neck and wrapped around her biceps. From where I stood, it looked like a snake. It was definitely Hayden’s design. I hated her immediately.

Hayden stepped in front of me, blocking her from view. His hands clenched into fists. “Let’s go out the back,” he said quietly, like he wanted to escape notice.

My stomach turned at the shift in his mood. “Who is that?”

“No one I want to introduce you to.”

“Hayden! There you are! Lisa and I were just talking about you.”

Hayden closed his eyes. “I’m with a client,” he said stiffly as he turned to face her.

“I see that. But it looks like you’re done with her now.” She spoke to him as if every word had underlying meaning I wasn’t privy to. Her hot pink smile seemed forced as her eyes shifted away from Hayden and raked over me. I moved to stand beside him, and when my fingers brushed the back of his hand, he snatched it away. The action spoke volumes.

The tension in the room was palpable. Jamie looked irate, Lisa helpless, and Chris utterly disconcerted. Fury radiated from Hayden like a force field.

“You should go home and take some Tylenol,” he said to me through gritted teeth.

“That’s a good idea.” I tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at me. I couldn’t understand his reaction, and confusion gave way to hurt when he continued to avoid eye contact. My stomach bottomed out, anxiety pushing its way to the surface. The woman across the room was nothing like me, and they obviously knew each other—how well, I couldn’t be sure. Now that he knew what he had to take on when it came to me, I was terrified he wouldn’t be interested anymore. I hadn’t even told him the worst part yet.

He started to usher me toward the back, but I skirted around him and headed to the front of the studio, right for the woman who eyed me with curious contempt.

I stared right back.

Her smile was malicious as I passed her and pushed the door open, cold fall air hitting my overheated face.

“Well, well, Hayden, I guess I know what you’ve been busy with lately.”

A gust of wind slammed the door shut before Hayden responded.

19

HAYDEN

I watched Tenley walk out of the shop and there was nothing I could do about it. If Sienna figured out there was something going on between us, she would find a way to exploit it, and I couldn’t risk losing what Tenley and I had, given how tenuous I sensed it was.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, unable to mask my frustration.

“I need a touch-up, and I was thinking about getting a new piece. You haven’t worked me over in a long time.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, unconcerned with the audience.

But that was how Sienna worked; the more people there were to witness one of her epic displays of bitchery, the better the show she put on. I looked past her as the lights came on in Tenley’s apartment. I needed to get over there and run interference. She had to be wondering what the hell was going on, and with all that new ink and the revelations tonight, she would be on edge. I was.


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