Chapter 13
My client Hunter and I haven’t spoken more than three words to each other the entire session. He might be as tight-lipped as I am. Fine by me, I don’t need conversation. As soon as I finish the last line and wipe him down, I kill the machine and nod.
He leans forward in my black leather chair, checking the piece in the mirror, then gives his version of what a smile would be before making a noise that’s somewhere between a grunt and a satisfied sigh.
“Is that a good sound?” I double-check to be sure.
“Mm.”
Right.
I wrap up his arm and hand him the aftercare sheet, giving him the spiel. “Wash it. Don’t pick at it. Moisturize. No hot tubs. Don’t be an idiot.”
“Mm.”
That could mean he understands or “go to hell.” Either way, I think we’re done here.
At the front desk, I take the payment since Frankie is out to lunch. Hunter digs a few hundreds from his wallet and drops them on the counter like we’re making a shady drug deal.
“Change?”
He shakes his head, then heads for the door, holding up his hand in a wave, and I return the gesture.
I think we bonded.
Once he exits, I check in Casper’s next client.
He’s got a consultation with Anna Kucera next.
I give her a nod. We’ve met previously, since her brother, Rhys, plays for the Minnesota Lakes with Camden, so I’ve seen her around at various Lakes Hockey events we’re expected to attend as families of the team, mostly just the big games and galas. I don’t recall ever seeing ink on her.
“First tattoo?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she replies, her voice soft and shy. She sounds nervous.
“Casper does great work. He’ll take good care of ya.”
She nods and sits on the edge of the sofa in the waiting area. Anna reminds me of a deer. Untrusting and skittish.
As soon as Casper comes to the front to get her, her shoulders relax.
Everybody likes Casper, he’s warm and hospitable.
Make no mistake, there are parts of him that live in the shadows, but very rarely does he reveal that side of himself.
He’s a charming golden retriever the majority of the time, making friends everywhere he goes.
He greets her with a warm smile. “Anna?”
She nods and stands.
“Hi, I’m Casper.” He shakes her hand. “You can follow me back to my chair and let’s talk more about what you have in mind.” Then he leads her toward the back of the shop near his workstation.
I glance down at my watch. Frankie still has ten more minutes before she returns. Thor is in the back painting a custom sign for the shop. His hand lettering is unparalleled; people come from all over to get his script tattooed on their bodies.
Laughter comes from the piercing bay where Kelly is doing nose piercings for a group of four friends. One of them gushes, “It looks so good!” The rest chime in with positive affirmations and excited nervous energy.
“You did great!” Kelly cheers; her happy sound carries through the shop.
I chuckle and check the trash cans to see if they need to be emptied, but it looks like Frankie already did it this morning.
Plants appear to be watered . . . She’s got everything taken care of.
I check the mailbox, freezing when I see a letter addressed to Kelly from Billy Akers.
I tear into the envelope as my blood pressure soars.
Junior,
Long time! Hope you’re well . . .
I mutter under my breath, Fuck this guy.
My eyes dart across the lines of text, reading as fast as I possibly can.
He wants to know “how it’s going” since I took over Black Rabbit.
That’s nice. As if he didn’t almost destroy the Everhart name and drown the business Clyde built from the ground up.
After I fired Billy and nearly bankrupted myself trying to clean up the mess he left, he had enough money to retire out west like he always wanted—and that’s where I hoped he would stay.
The fact that he’s reaching out to Kelly has me seeing red.
My molars grind as I finish the note. It seems friendly, but Billy is a fucking snake.
He’s fishing for information. I wouldn’t doubt if he fucked up whatever scheme he was running out there and now thinks he can slither back here and manipulate Kelly the way he did Clyde .
. . Not a chance in hell. Not that any of us even knew it was happening until it was too late—and to this day, Billy, Casper, and Thor are the only ones who know the truth. I’ve worked hard to keep it that way.
I stuff the letter back in the envelope, folding it in half and tucking it into my back pocket.
Billy is up to something. Especially because he sent it to the shop.
If he really wanted to reach out to her, he would have sent it to her house directly—this feels like a message for me.
Testing me and reminding me he’s still out there.
He knows Kelly is my weakness, so this is his way of hitting me where it hurts.
He can try, but he’ll quickly learn that this time, I’ll strike back. Hard.
I figured out how to block him in every digital capacity, but nothing like the good ol’ United States Postal Service to come through for him. I just need to figure out what his angle is and get ahead of it.
I can’t waste any time obsessing about this since my next client will be arriving soon, and I need to get my shit together before they show up.
My gaze drifts to the large picture windows at the front of the shop and the tension drains from my shoulders—until my eyes focus on a man with a bouquet of roses coming toward the shop.
Oh, fuck no.
Jason.
I’m not letting him anywhere near Kelly. Things are already in motion and I don’t undo my own work. There’s no way in hell I’m giving him access to her. They’re done.
I stand behind the desk, his five-foot-nine height no match.
The door swings open, and his dress shoes clack as he makes his way toward me.
“Is Kelly here?”
“She’s off today.”
He knits his brow. “I know she works Tuesdays.”
He doesn’t know shit. Not even her birthstone, apparently.
“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” I reply with a shrug.
He sighs, clutching the red roses at his side. “Look, I just wanna talk to her for five minutes.”
“It doesn’t take five minutes to say goodbye, but I’ll pass along the message anyway.”
He takes a deep breath. “Let me talk to her, Logan.”
“No. Whatever you thought you had is dead, and you’re going to leave it buried.”
He cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes. “What the hell do you care anyway?” He lifts his chin. “You want my sloppy seconds?”
A grin slowly spreads across my face, and based on the way he just took a step back, I think it makes him uneasy. I chuckle.
“What?” he seethes.
“That you thought she was ever yours to begin with.”
“She still is mine. Kelly’s just hung up on some trust issue bullshit. It doesn’t involve you, this is between me and her.”
“No, I’m the one between you and her.” I furrow my brow. “Besides, it sounds like you have enough side pieces to keep you busy.”
He steps up to the desk and sticks his pointer finger at my face. “I never cheated on her. I have no idea where that fucking scrunchie came from!”
My smile can no longer be contained. “Funny how shit just turns up sometimes.”
He withdraws a couple steps and angles his head slightly, keeping his gaze on me. “Were you . . .” He narrows his eyes. “Were you at my house?”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s a pretty bold accusation.”
Though, in this case, an accurate one. I can’t be sure if he used any of the condoms from the drawer to cheat on Kelly, but that’s not the point.
Thor happened to mention he’d seen Jason talking with a woman at a bar the week before her birthday, nothing more than a laugh and a handshake, but it was enough for me to build the rest of the story.
I don’t need proof to make her believe it.
Perception is everything, and suspicion will always work harder than the truth.
Lucky for me, he cared more about his ego than his home security. I’d noticed that a water stain under one of his outdoor planters wasn’t centered beneath the flower pot. A quick lift and there was his spare key just waiting for the wrong person to find it.
Jason retreats another step. “What the fuck . . .” His eyes dart in the direction of Kelly’s laughter in the back of the shop, and I round the desk, blocking the path to her and standing my ground.
“This won’t play out the way you think it will,” he warns. “Trust me—it doesn’t end in your favor. I’ll tell her.”
“Yes it will, and you’re not going to mention my name. Remember . . . I know where you live.”
He releases the flowers from his grip and lunges for me. My fist connects with his face, and the snap of bone meeting cartilage echoes off the walls.
Jason drops with a grunt, his head bouncing off the hard floor.
He sucks in a breath of air and I sink to my knees, crouching over him and landing another blow to his jaw, spraying blood across his cheek.
The pound of adrenaline pulses through me—I don’t want to stop.
He needs to learn exactly what happens when he fucks with what’s mine.
She’s never been his, and if I have to physically remove him from the equation, I’ll do it.
His hands flail as he tries to gain purchase on my shirt, eventually curling his fingers into the fabric, and rearing back his other arm to clock me in the mouth. The impact of his knuckles splits my lip, and the taste of copper floods my palate.
He spits blood in my face and I laugh—he just wrote his name on his coffin.
“You’re a fucking psycho!” he stammers, blood pouring from his nose.
My palm finds his neck and I press my thumb to his windpipe, itching to feel it collapse under the stress. I increase the pressure and his eyes widen.
“You have no idea how big a psycho I can be.” I grin, lower my voice. “Walk into my shop again, and I’ll make you scream so fucking long the devil will ask me to keep it down.”
“Whoa.” Casper’s voice cuts in from beside me, and he reaches under my arms and pulls me back. “Thor! Need you up front,” he calls over his shoulder.
“I’ll fucking expose you,” Jason says through clenched, bloody teeth. He props up on his elbow and stabs a finger in my direction. “I’m not done with her. Over my dead body.”
Heavy footsteps sprint from the back of the shop. “Ah, shit,” Thor mutters, quickly assessing the situation.
“Have it your way.”
Casper tightens his hold, and Thor pushes me back.
“What’s going on—Oh my God!” Kelly shrieks.
“Kel!” Jason says, wide-eyed. “Your boss is a fuckin’—”
Thor grabs Jason by the collar of his shirt, hauls him up, and guides his shuffling feet toward the door. “Time to go.”
I shrug Casper off me and wipe my lip on my sleeve.
The bell rings over the door as Jason is shoved out of it. He points back at me through the window, pinning me with a scowl.
Kelly is glowering when I spin around. Not sure if it’s all the testosterone, but she looks hotter than ever when she’s furious.
She throws her arms out to the side and scowls. “The fuck just happened?” she whisper-shouts, trying not to attract attention from clients.
I scrub a hand over my face and wince when I hit my swollen cut lip. Damn, that stings. What am I supposed to say, the truth? Pass.
Her sharp stare burrows into my skin. I take back nothing. I’ve never had a problem exhibiting self-control, but after that letter and seeing her ex back-to-back, I didn’t stand a chance.
She crosses her arms, waiting for an answer.
They drop to her sides when she realizes there isn’t one coming.
Kelly scoffs at me with disdain, turning on her heel.
As she walks away, she shakes her head, ripping off her black latex gloves and hurling them into a nearby trash can as she returns to her clients.
Thankfully, all the customers stayed safely in the back of the shop and only staff saw our little scuffle.
Thor’s arm shoots out toward the door that Jason was just escorted out of. “If you learned to communicate like a normal human being, you wouldn’t need to orchestrate a crisis just so you can play the fucking savior.”
Frankie comes skipping in the front door from her lunch break clutching an iced coffee and freezes. “Holy shit, what happened to you?” she says.
Casper clamps his mouth shut and holds up his palms. He takes a few steps backward before heading back to his consultation with Anna. He avoids drama like a bad ex-girlfriend.
Thor is the only one who speaks up. “Jason stopped by.” He picks up the smashed bouquet of roses on the floor and walks over to the front desk, dumping them in the trash before he leaves too.
“Ohhh. Yeah, Kelly told me about the birthday breakup.” Frankie smiles and swirls the ice in her plastic Starbucks cup, giving me a once-over. “Had a little confrontation, did you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I gruff.
“I understand. First rule of fight club,” Frankie assures me, returning to her post behind the front desk. “Hope you got a couple shots in.”
I nod.
“Atta boy.” She plops her purse on the counter, then begins rummaging through one of the desk drawers, procuring a first-aid kit and handing it to me. “Here, take this back to your office and get cleaned up. We can’t have clients walking in and seeing this shit.”