28. Roxie
Twenty Eight
Roxie
*One hour earlier*
M ax left the storage room with a smile on his face, which made me feel instantly better. But I’m too worked up to go back to my chair just yet. I know I should eat the lunch Max packed me, but my nerves won’t allow it. It’s been an incredible day so far. The people that have come in for this flash sale have been amazing. I feel like I’ve been going nonstop since eight this morning. It’s exciting, but it’s also exhausting.
Needing a moment to myself, I sneak out the backdoor. I know it’s not the best idea given the real reason this event is taking place, but I need to breathe. So much has happened in my life in such a short amount of time.
The blow job made him smile; it made me smile, but it didn’t calm either of us down enough. The only thing that will is this all being over.
Fuck, this day’s been a good one, though. My dad is here. He’s going around and talking to people. He’s spoken to a few of my previous clients who came to take part today, and his pride in what I’ve accomplished makes me feel as if he really sees me as the artist I am. It didn’t hurt when he walked right up to me to tell me how proud of me he was, either.
Angel even smiled. He would look over at me every once in a while, and it was clear to everyone around how happy he was. I’m unsure if it was my work, seeing me in my element, or if he genuinely found his happiness—if only for a moment.
Add in the emotions from my dad and Angel, as well as the fact that I just blew my boyfriend in the back storage closet. I’m happy. Sure, something would make this day even better. Catching Mark. Getting this problem taken care of once and for all would be the icing on the cake, but I can’t be greedy. Can I?
Fuck yeah, you can.
I want the day to end with the guys catching Mark and this problem being nothing more than a blip on my life’s story. I don’t need to see how they catch him or what they do to him; I only want it done.
Everything in my life has finally worked itself out. Max and I have become a lot closer than we were. We found what we needed to heal and make this relationship what it’s meant to be. Dad, Angel, and I are finally back to how we were before. Our relationship is as strong as it was—almost as if our problems were never there. I won’t forget what we’ve all been through, though. I told myself I would always remember because I need to make sure I do my part in keeping all of these relationships whole. But a large part of making that happen is for this shit to end.
I take another deep breath and push away from the wall I’m leaning on, ready to go back inside and tackle the rest of this day, when I hear the last voice I wanted to call out my name.
I turn toward him, and as calmly as possible, I respond, “Oh. Hey, Mark.”
He smiles as he walks up to me, his posture nonthreatening, but I know that means shit, and I look for help or a way out.
“What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be inside making your mark on the world?” his smile reaches his eyes and has me wondering what the hell his game is.
I chuckle and dismissively wave my hand, “I needed to catch my breath. We’ve been going hard since eight this morning, and I was too excited about today that I slept like shit. But what can you do, ya know? This whole thing is amazing and for such a good cause.”
“I get it. I think it’s really awesome that y’all chose to donate to a women’s shelter. I know how much places like that need the help. Be it money or products.” He comes a couple of steps closer but leaves a comfortable distance between us.
“Thank you for the suggestion, by the way. I meant to ask you before, but it’s been a crazy few…years,” I laugh. “What gave you the idea?”
I shifted as subtly as I could and now stood right next to the back door, ready to bolt if need be.
“My old shop used to do this all the time. I’ve always been a big supporter of helping any shelter in the area.”
“Wait, you’re old shop?”
“Yeah, I’m a tattoo artist. I’ve been doing it going on,” he blows out a breath hard enough to make his cheeks vibrate, “fifteen years. Maybe a bit more. A really long fucking time.”
Holy shit. Fuck. What the hell is happening right now? He’s an artist? Why didn’t he say anything before?
“You’re a tattoo artist? That’s…wow. You didn’t say anything.”
“I don’t like to broadcast it. Especially when I go into a new place.”
“How did you find out about our place? Did you move here to work?”
He looks away for a moment, and I wonder if I should take this as my leave to get the fuck away from him, but curiosity takes over. Real smart, Roxanne.
“No, I didn’t come here for work. While it would be nice to get in at a shop, I’ve got some shit I need to figure out how to take care of first.”
The fuck does that mean?
“Anyway, my new neighbor told me about Stanford’s shop. He had said that there was a girl there that trained with Angel. Let’s be honest. Everyone knows who Angel is. So, I bluffed a little bit and pretended that I didn’t already know you knew Angel.”
“Why?” I ask, not even trying to hide my nerves. He either ignores it or doesn’t catch on.
“I know how rough this business is, especially for women. I didn’t want to make it weird or anything like that. I really did only want to see what you were capable of. Roxie, you have so much talent. Which, saying all of this out loud, I realize, is probably making things weird.”
He shifts his weight so he’s now leaning against the wall also. It’s confusing the hell out of me. Why is he acting this way? Why is he telling me these things? There’s gotta be a reason for all of it, but what is it?
I must have taken too long to respond, so he turned toward me again, making me pull the door handle down.
“I’m sorry for being weird as hell. This move has been a lot on me, and I have so much shit to work out. Knowing another artist, especially one in such high regard, lives here made it a tad easier. I’ve gotta stay here, so at least being around incredible talent makes it a little bit more bearable until everything gets worked out.”
I smile at him because it’s the only thing that feels natural. Something about what he said calms my nerves at the same time as spiking my worry.
“I’m sorry it’s been rough. I’d ask you what’s going on, but something tells me that that isn’t something you’re ready to discuss.”
“No, I’m not. But I appreciate the acknowledgment.”
Trying to get any bit of information as I can, I take a new tactic. “There are a lot of people that would like to work at Angel’s shop.”
“Trust me, I know. I would love to work with him, but I know he isn’t taking any new artists. I’ll find my place eventually. Like I said, it’s not my top priority right now. But hey, my neighbor told me about you, and to be frank, you’re just as good, in my opinion.” He winks at me, and it causes a shiver to go through my system.
“I’ve been at this, professionally, for less than a year. I doubt that I made a name for myself in that short time. I mean, I was cleaning bathrooms for the first while.” I give myself a self-deprecating laugh.
“Don’t sell yourself short. Your connection to Angel helps, yes, but the rave reviews from my neighbor sold the deal. The work you did on him is incredible. When he told me about your training, I knew I needed to check you out and see what the hype was about. Some artists can only do one type of style. You’ve allowed yourself to mold so many different techniques into your own form. It’s an incredible talent you have, Roxie. Truly.”
The way he speaks, it’s like he was more excited to meet me and work with me than he was Angel.
I’m not sure what I should say or do, but I’m positive that what I decide isn’t the correct answer. “So you moved here because you had to, but won’t say what the why for is. Then you try to stroke my ego by claiming your desire to be inked by me over Angel. Claiming you know others who have gotten done by me, but I doubt it because I haven’t worked on many. What the hell are you really doing here, Mark?”
Don’t ask me why I decided to be a total bitch to the man who’s tried to kill me. I can’t say. I’m sure I’ll think of a reason when I wake up dead.
“You know what, I’m gonna go. I came to you because Percy wouldn’t stop raving about you. Sure, the Angel thing is a bonus, but I wanted the art you could provide. I’ve got shit going on in my life that I can’t explain—”
“—That’s not suspicious at all. Please, continue.”
Mark lets out a long breath as he looks down at the ground, shaking his head in disappointment. “I don’t know what made you go from zero to one hundred, but I’m sorry for whatever I did or said to cause it. You don’t have to believe me about my reasons, and you’re entitled to think they’re suspicious, but I’m not going to argue with you.”
“I wasn’t planning on continuing the conversation anyway.”
I pull open the door and make my way back inside. I’m a couple of steps past the threshold when it occurs to me that I didn’t hear the door close. My panic causes my body to freeze, and it’s the last thing I remember before my world goes black.