Chapter 4
Shane
“He gone already?” Zeppelin asked as he strode into the shop. Jaxon wasn’t with him, which meant Jaxon had probably just dropped him off after eating lunch together and gone back home. When I nodded at Zeppelin in answer, he frowned. “I don’t fucking like him.”
“Me neither. He’s a fucking weirdo. He got all weird when he thought Shane and I were together.” She looked at me. “No offense, but I’d never date you.”
I just smiled. I would never date her either.
Even if she was my type, which she wasn’t, I didn’t date.
I didn’t fuck. I didn’t get close to anyone.
Zeppelin was the only person I might remotely consider a friend, but that was only because he’d forced himself into my life and given me a purpose once more when my life had appeared bleak.
He’d given me an escape from my dark thoughts and the black pit that had become my mind.
“Something is off about him,” Zep said as he took a seat at the counter. He tugged his iPad toward him and patted his pockets until he found his Apple pencil.
Something was definitely off about X. He was either a psychopath or a sociopath, but unless I allowed him around me more, I’d never know.
I just hoped he heeded my warning and stayed the fuck away.
I wasn’t interested in trying to figure him out, and I didn’t want to be in the middle of whatever the fuck X was concocting.
But the way the man he’d met up with outside had been studying me…
I didn’t think I’d seen the last of X. He had some kind of fixation on me, and nothing short of making him disappear or having him arrested would get rid of him.
And I wasn’t all that keen on cops. Taking care of the problem myself, though?
I was good at that, and I had enough training on getting rid of bodies that he’d never be found.
“I’m heading upstairs to eat,” I told them.
“Sure thing,” Zep said, waving me off, intently focused on his iPad now. “I’ll handle any walk-ins.”
I headed up the stairs near the back of the shop, and after unlocking my door, headed inside. Leftover Texas rice from the Mexican restaurant down the street was waiting for me in my fridge, which I was grateful for because I needed to go grocery shopping and didn’t have much else to eat.
I fucking hated grocery shopping. Everyone shopping was too loud.
The stores were too bright. And everyone had a fucking staring problem—like they’d never seen a tattooed, bearded man grocery shopping before.
Or maybe it was because I was half Black and half Mexican and they assumed I was an illegal immigrant since that was the kind of country we lived in now.
Who the fuck knew. The state of this country had people all kinds of fucked up. The government had hit an all-time low.
After warming up my food and scarfing it down, I grabbed my phone off the charger, surprised I actually had a text message. Thinking it was Zeppelin telling me I had a special request again, I unlocked my phone.
It wasn’t Zeppelin. It was a number I didn’t recognize, and immediately, I knew who the fuck it was from. Clearly, he wasn’t going to heed my warning.
Unknown: The ink is beautiful. I’ll come see you again in a couple of days.
I ground my teeth together, my fingers tightening around the slim device. That mother fucker. He was testing my patience and rolling right over my fucking boundaries. He might have been used to getting his way, but he hadn’t met me yet.
If X kept pushing, he was going to realize who the fuck played God between us, and it certainly wasn’t him.
It was nearly dark outside, but that didn’t stop someone from coming in to get a tattoo, even though we were close to closing.
When the bell above the door jingled, I looked up from my drawing, arching a brow at Logan and Ezra.
Zeppelin’s chair creaked as he leaned back in it, regarding his in-laws.
Logan and Ezra were somewhat married to Jaxon’s son, Spencer.
I didn’t entirely understand how their marriage worked, but I never bothered to ask either.
They were committed to each other, and as far as I was concerned, that was all anyone needed to know.
Nothing else was anyone else’s business.
“What brings you two in? Where’s the cute one in your bunch?” Zeppelin asked.
“Go fuck yourself,” Logan snapped at him.
“What?” Zeppelin asked, miming innocence, even going so far as to dramatically place his hand over his chest. “I thought since you’re always calling my husband a DILF, your husband was free game, too.”
“Let’s not,” Ezra sighed. He dropped onto Zeppelin’s tattoo chair. “I know you’re close to closing, but I want a tattoo, and it’s the only time I have free this week. This current job is kicking my ass.”
Ezra owned his own construction company, and instead of sitting in the office like most company owners, he got out in the field with a crew and worked right alongside them.
Logan was also a blue-collar guy. He managed an auto shop, but like his husband, he worked right alongside them, preferring to get his hands dirty rather than constantly do paperwork.
Spencer, their husband, was the polar opposite.
For a while, he was an emergency room doctor, but he’d recently quit and was now working as a family practitioner in a small doctor’s office.
His hours were much more stable, and he was in a much better place mentally since taking the new job and quitting the hospital.
“Oooh, I get to pop your tattoo cherry?” Zep asked, making Ezra laugh. I rolled my eyes and focused back on the skull bleeding onto a coffin that contained a dead girl that I was drawing. It was someone’s special request, and Zeppelin would be tattooing it.
“Stop being fucking weird,” Logan snapped at Zep.
Zep cackled. “And stop getting under your skin? Nah.” Something rattled, and then, Zeppelin’s chair was rolling across the floor. “Whatcha got in mind?”
“Can you draw up something that represents a doctor and a mechanic in one tattoo?” Ezra asked.
“You two kill me with your love for him,” Zep muttered teasingly. “But yeah.” I looked up to see him grabbing his tablet and pencil. “We’re gonna be here until after closing. So, one of you should order some food.”
“Already done,” Ezra told him. “Spencer is bringing lasagna. He wants to see me get tattooed for the first time.”
Zeppelin looked at me. “I’ve got closing,” he told me. “You can go, if you want.”
I stood, then paused, suddenly feeling eyes on me.
Slowly, I turned my head toward the large windows that looked out over the street and the small park just across the road.
And there X was, unashamedly staring at me.
Wearing black sweats and a hoodie open to reveal his bruised, inked skin, he wasn’t even attempting to hide from me any longer.
“Shane?” Logan asked.
I ignored him and headed for the door, pushing out onto the street. X still didn’t move. He just continued tracking every move I made like a predator stalking its prey. Only he had no idea I was the true predator in this scenario. He was just too cocky and self-assured to see the danger he was in.
“You and I are about to have a fucking problem,” I warned him.
His grin was manic, and when he slipped his hands from his pockets, I saw they were taped up and bloody, like he’d just gotten out of a fight.
“I like problems,” he mused. “You thought you were getting rid of me so easily, Shane? You ignored my text message.”
I arched a brow at him. “Stalking can get you arrested.”
He cocked his head to the side the slightest bit. “But you’re not going to call the cops, are you, Shane?” he asked.
I took another step closer. “No, I’m not,” I coolly answered. “But if you don’t drop whatever plans you’ve got, you’ll wish I had.”
Instead of scaring him off like I’d hoped to do, he just looked positively fucking gleeful.