Chapter 26 #2
I face her and gently place a hand on her knee. “You don’t need to come in. Just stay here,” I assure her, but she holds my wrist tightly.
“What are you going to do?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“I go up there every morning before work and leave a twenty on the kitchen counter,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s no big deal. I’ll be back in two minutes.”
She looks shocked, but I open the truck door and step out before she can say anything. And just as promised, I’m back in no time at all.
When I return, she is crying, tears rolling down her pretty face.
“I am so sorry. I should be the one doing this, I know, but just the thought of coming back here…”
I gently hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger, lifting it so I can look into her eyes. “I’ll take care of it. Just say ‘Thank you.’”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Good girl,” I praise, leaning in to lick a tear from her cheek.
Her expression is so stunned that I can’t help but smirk as I start the engine and drive away from that wretched place.
After a few minutes of silence, she asks softly, her voice filled with uncertainty, “Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be?” I ask, shooting her a look.
“He’s your boyfriend,” she states like it should be obvious.
“Seems like he’s yours now too,” I remark, noticing her body tense up in my peripheral vision.
So I add, “Do you want me to get you a morning-after pill, or are we going to wait and see what happens? It’s your body.
You decide, but I just wanted to let you know that I can cover all expenses if this is a concern. ”
“What?” She turns her head toward me swiftly, her eyebrows pinched in confusion, clearly taken aback by my offer.
“I know you don’t like me paying for your shit, but I think you have to take it relatively quickly after if you want to take it, and we can discuss you working to pay back half of it if you really insist. And I hope you agree that Clay has to at least pay the other half since he is the reason you are in this situation. ”
“What are you even talking about?” She frowns at me as I park in front of the studio.
“Clay told me he was an irresponsible idiot and didn’t use protection. Just to ease any worries you may have, we get tested every time we have sex with a woman, which hasn’t happened for nearly half a year now.”
“I—” she starts, but I interject, feeling the need to clarify things further.
“And it won’t happen again. Believe me. We’re done playing around.”
“Xander!” she yells at me, clearly frustrated.
“What?” I turn to look at her.
“For once, you should shut up, yet you can’t stop talking.” She smiles at me. “I am on birth control. So, no need for a pill, but thank you.”
“Okay.” I nod, getting out of the truck and walking over to her side to lift her out so she doesn’t have to deal with the long drop.
A few hours later, I am cleaning the tattoo station after my last client for the day just left. Once I am done, I head back to the register, where Carolina is sketching something in the sketchbook Clay got her.
She is so engrossed in her work that she doesn’t notice me standing behind her, peeking over her shoulder at her sketch. It’s a drawing of a skeleton hand, forefinger outstretched, with a butterfly perched on it.
“That’s beautiful,” I compliment, startling her a little, and take the sketchbook from her to examine it more closely.
“Have you ever thought about tattooing? You have a good eye for stuff that would transfer well onto skin. Not every good sketch makes a good tattoo, but this…” I glance down at her.
“Do you want to design your own sleeve? I can tattoo it, making sure it’s still your style.
” She looks ready to dismiss the idea, so I quickly add, “Just think about it.”
“Sure.” She shrugs, and I hand her back the sketchbook.
“You told Clay your mom was an artist?” I ask.
“Yeah, I mean, she wasn’t known or anything, but she did a lot of landscape paintings at home. Every wall in the apartment was covered with her paintings.” She smiles, but it fades quickly. “He didn’t even let me keep one, even though there were like fifty they just trashed.”
A surge of hatred for the man runs through my veins. Every morning, it takes all my self-control not to walk into his bedroom and strangle him. The only thing that stops me is the realization that that piece of shit is not worth going to prison for.
“There is an exhibition tomorrow that I would like to go to. Would you come with me?” I ask her, stepping closer and cupping her cheek, stroking it gently.
“It’s more abstract art, not landscapes, but it is dark and twisted, and from seeing the stuff you draw, I think it could be something you enjoy. ” I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
“I…” she starts, looking unsure.
“Say yes,” I whisper, leaning into her space a bit more.
“Yes,” she whispers back.
“Perfect,” I reply, letting go of her and stepping back. I smirk as I notice the dumbstruck look on her face. “Come on, I’ll drive you to the bar.”