Chapter 25
25
NIKKO
T he hum of the tattoo parlor felt like home. It was the same steady, familiar, grounding feeling that always had a way of calming me. Clients came here to get inked with some meaningful message or to have a memory put on their skin. For some, it was a rebellious act. Others were doing it for the hell of it. For me, it was a sanctuary. At least, it was supposed to be.
I could feel the tension in the room.
Diego and Jess were keeping to themselves. I had a feeling they knew my connection to the break-in. Add our last blowup to the mix and I felt like I was the black sheep. The needle buzzed in my hand as I leaned over a fresh piece, a complex design with an ocean and beach theme. The guy was a surfer and had been building up the piece with sessions once a month. As I sketched the lines into the client’s back, my mind drifted inevitably to Hannah.
How many times had I told myself that getting involved with someone on vacation was a bad idea? Yet, there she was, different from the start. Not just another tourist, but someone who carried her own set of pressures and problems, someone as complicated as I was. Usually, I hooked up with chicks that were in town for a week. There were more than a few locals I messed with, but those were dangerous entanglements. Any woman that knew where I worked and could pop in was risky. They tended to get clingy—just like Samantha.
I wiped away excess ink and glanced over at the clock. Hannah was probably stressing herself out about the missed presentation. She didn’t say it, but I knew she was pissed. At me. I showed up at her hotel and distracted her. I was the one who acted like a needy person. She was too nice to tell me to get lost. I hadn’t meant to stay all damn night.
It just happened.
When Diego passed by, he threw me a look—an unspoken question lingering between us. We hadn’t really talked since things got heated. I knew I owed him an apology. Maybe more than one. But that was how we were. We argued and then we were fine. We truly were like brothers.
“Diego,” I called out as he started to walk away.
He paused, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Yeah?”
“Good?”
He smirked. “Good.”
That was the extent of our makeup conversation. I didn’t have a brother, but I was sure it would be something like this. Jess on the other hand tended to hold a grudge about a day longer. But she was like an annoying little sister. I knew she was going to have my back no matter what.
I glanced up and saw her looking at me. She stuck her tongue out, which was the equivalent of a “We’re cool” message. I nodded at her and turned my attention back to the piece I was working on.
Images of Hannah’s face, her smile, the way she looked at me just before her mouth wrapped around my dick kept breaking through. I squirmed in my chair, fighting back the arousal that coursed through me just thinking about her going down on me.
I couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like if she was around more often. But that wasn’t going to happen. Her life’s work over a short fling with a tattoo artist in a tourist city was a pretty easy choice.
I wiped another smear of ink away, glancing at the door every time it opened, half-expecting to see her walk in. I knew she was going to be leaving soon and she was going to want that ink fixed. I already knew how I was going to fix the thing. It was easy. Just add more detail to the rose and my initials would disappear into the design.
I was just cleaning up when the door opened. It was crazy because I didn’t even have to look up to know it was her. I could feel her.
What the fuck was that about?
She walked in, her presence immediately lighting up the room in a way that set my nerves on edge and calmed me all at once. She had that effect, which I hated and loved in equal measure. Diego gave me a sly look from his station, smirking, but I ignored him.
“Hi,” I said as I walked to the front to greet her.
“Hi.”
“Follow me.”
Jess flashed a knowing smile. I hoped like hell she didn’t say something to embarrass me.
“So,” I said, gesturing to the chair. “Ready to let me fix this thing once and for all?”
Hannah smiled and held out her arm to reveal the tattoo I’d left my mark on. “As long as it doesn’t end up worse, I think I can handle it.”
“Harsh,” I said with a mock-wounded look. “I thought we were past all the judgment.”
Her laugh was light. “Oh, there’s still judgment. It’s just affectionate now.”
“Affectionate judgment,” I repeated as I adjusted the chair for her. “I can work with that.”
She sat down, looking more comfortable than she had the first time she was in my chair. I traced my fingers lightly over the lines of the tattoo. My initials were hidden so cleverly that no one would know unless I pointed them out, but Hannah had caught on, and fixing it now felt bittersweet.
“Tell me about work,” I said as I positioned her arm. “Back on track? ”
She hesitated. “I think so. Clarke pitched my work to the client. They loved it, so now I just have to follow through.” Her tone wavered, like she wanted to add something, but she didn’t. “I got all my stuff together. Fine-tuned a few things.”
“Good,” I said, trying to focus on the machine and not the way her voice made me feel. “You’re killing it. I told you you’d be fine.”
She gave me a small, tight smile. “Yeah. Fine.”
I frowned. “But?”
“But—” She took a breath like she was about to confess something when the door to the shop slammed open.
The energy in the room shifted. The charged buzz of the machines came to a stop as Samantha strutted in like she owned the place.
I froze, my tattoo gun hovering millimeters from Hannah’s skin. Samantha’s heels clicked sharply against the floor, and her presence sucked the air out of the room. She stalked toward me.
“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath.
“We need to talk,” Samantha declared. No greeting, no preamble—just her usual blend of entitlement and venom. I couldn’t believe I ever thought I liked her. How the hell had I managed to get through a dinner with her? Sex. That was it. I liked sex and she had a good body.
I put down the gun and stood. Hannah was sitting in the chair between us. “Later,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t have the luxury of later,” Samantha snapped, folding her arms. Her icy tone made it clear she wasn’t leaving without a fight.
This was how she always was. Just so fucking obnoxious. She couldn’t just be a normal person.
Diego glanced over from his booth, his eyebrows raised in silent question. Jessie made her way over, trying to diffuse the situation. “Samantha, maybe you can wait outside? Nikko’s with a client right now?—”
“Don’t patronize me,” Samantha spat, cutting Jessie off with a glare.
I did not want to have this argument in front of Hannah or anyone else. I was so damn tired of Samantha’s short temper. “Samantha, enough. We’ll talk. Just calm down.”
Hannah was already pulling her sleeve back down, covering the tattoo I hadn’t even started fixing. I walked a few steps away. As expected, Samantha followed. Hannah quietly stood, doing her best to be as small as possible. I could see the tension in her jaw.
“Wait,” I said. “This will just take a minute.”
“It’s fine,” Hannah said quickly. “I can come back later. You two clearly have something to work out.”
“Hannah, wait?—”
“It’s okay,” she insisted, her voice tight. “Call me when I can come back?”
I nodded reluctantly. She walked out without looking back. Guilt twisted in my gut as I watched her go. Samantha had a talent for ruining things, and this was no exception. The last thing I needed was Hannah getting a peek at my dirty laundry.
I turned to Samantha, my patience worn thin. “Back lot. Now.”
She followed me outside. The sound of her heels clicking against the hard floor grated on my nerves. I shoved open the door hard enough to jerk it off the hinges. As soon as the door closed behind us, she slapped me hard across the face. The sting radiated through my cheek, but it was the sheer audacity that made my blood boil.
“What the fuck?” I growled, pressing a hand to my face.
“How dare you!” she hissed, her eyes blazing.
“What did I do this time?”
“You called the cops on Greg!” she shouted, her voice dripping with outrage.
I barked out a laugh. “Your roided-out boyfriend? Yeah, I did. He broke into the shop and stole from us. Probably because you told him to. You’re lucky I didn’t point the cops in your direction, too. You put him up to it. I know you, Samantha. You are hellbent on revenge for something you have zero reason to seek revenge for.”
Her face twisted in mock offense. “I had nothing to do with that! You’re the one who provoked him by bragging about tattooing my scorpion on my thigh! What did you think was going to happen, Nikko? You asshole.”
I took a step back, crossing my arms. “Oh, so now it’s my fault your psycho boyfriend can’t handle a little honesty? Get real, Samantha.”
“You’re unbelievable, you know that? You think you can just mess with people’s lives and there won’t be consequences?”
“Consequences?” I scoffed. “You’re talking about consequences when you’re the one sending your goon after my business? That’s rich.”
Samantha stopped pacing, turning to glare at me. “He’s not a goon, and you’re the one who started this by taking things too far!”
“Taking things too far?” I repeated incredulously. “You showed up at my fucking work demanding I come by and get some shit that could have been tossed. You turned this into a soap opera. You thought you were going to make me jealous or some shit.”
“I did no such thing!”
“You are a spoiled, bratty, selfish manipulative snake,” I said with disgust.
“You’re a bastard.” She spun on her heel and slithered right back into the shop. “You fucked up this time, Nikko!”
“Samantha, don’t ? — ”
But she didn’t listen. Instead, she started grabbing anything within reach and throwing it. Ink bottles, machines, clipboards—all went flying.
“Are you kidding me?” Diego shouted, running toward her.
“Don’t touch her!” I said, panic rising. “She’ll press charges. She wants to be the victim.”
Samantha smirked, knowing exactly what she was doing. Her eyes glinted with malice as she shoved over a shelf of supplies. My stomach sank as I realized she was trying to ruin me. She was going to get me fired. As soon as Marcus heard about this, my ass was out.
And I couldn’t blame him.
“Come at me, Nikko,” Samantha said. “Try and stop me.”
I didn’t have to. Jess lunged at Samantha, tackling her to the floor in one swift move. Samantha shrieked, flailing wildly, but Jessie held her down like a seasoned pro.
“Call the cops,” Jessie said, glaring up at me. “Now.”
I pulled out my phone and made the call. Samantha was screaming we were hurting her and demanding the police come and save her. Thankfully, Diego grabbed his phone and started recording the situation.
“Dude,” Diego said with a shake of his head. “Your ex is certifiable.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I was fucking humiliated. Samantha was never going to stop until she ruined my life. This was exactly why I never got involved with anyone. They always let me down and they always fucked me over.