Chapter Eleven #3
Even if she told Trent and Cujo, there was nothing they could do to resolve the situation.
It would crush them to know they harbored someone capable of killing a person, even if it was self-defense, and it would kill her to see that look on their face.
She knew they’d stand by her, but their relationship would be changed forever, and she couldn’t forgive herself if the news became public and ruined the reputation of Second Circle.
They’d ploughed everything they had into growing the business.
Would Trent lose his host job on Inked as part of the fallout?
Perhaps she should resign . . . put some distance between herself and the studio. Her stomach turned and she was grateful she’d not eaten breakfast.
And then there was Dred, the first man she’d ever had deep feelings for. What would he think of her when all was revealed?
* * *
With the help of a great checking agent at Gale?o International Airport who also happened to be a hard-core metal fan pissed to be missing Rio’s biggest open-air concert of the year, Dred had secured himself a business-class seat on the last flight out of Brazil.
He’d walked off the stage, straight into a waiting limo, and rushed through the crazy nighttime traffic.
The rest of the guys had been totally supportive of his detour on the way home.
Thankfully, with the agent’s help, he’d managed to grab a quick shower in a VIP lounge and was able to change out of his concert gear into something way more comfortable for a thirteen-hour trip that included a quick stopover in Atlanta.
Dred stepped off the plane in Miami and looked at his watch. Ten a.m. He made his way to the exit and grabbed a taxi, telling the driver to go straight to Second Circle.
It was a week since he’d seen Pixie, and he was beginning to realize that a long-distance relationship was going to take a bit more planning than he’d done so far.
They needed rules, like the maximum time they’d spend apart or that he’d always be responsible for buying tickets.
He’d gone from having no family of his own, to having Petal and Pixie in less than a month, and he was determined to not let them down.
“You can pull up here,” he instructed the driver, indicating a spot a few feet away from the studio, hoping to prolong the surprise until the last possible second.
Trent was in the window of the store, head down, focused on a tattoo.
Cujo was standing near the desk. When he moved to the left, Dred could see he was talking to Pixie who was laughing at something. God, she had the best smile.
Pushing the door open, he walked into Second Circle. It was the first time they’d really gone public with their relationship, and he wasn’t sure what her boundaries would be with regards to him greeting her exactly how he wanted. But he needn’t have worried. The moment she looked up, she squealed.
“Oh my God,” she ran around the counter, throwing herself into his arms so he had no choice but to catch her. “You’re actually here.” She showered kisses all over his face, and while he was aware that pretty much everybody in the studio was looking at them, he didn’t really give a fuck.
“Hey, Snowflake,” he said before capturing her lips and kissing her the way he wanted. She tasted fruity, like jelly beans. It was fun, and sweet, and so very Pixie.
“What did I tell you about hitting on the staff?” Trent asked, slapping him on the back.
Dred lowered Pixie to the floor but kept her tucked under his arm. He shook hands with Trent. “Good to see you too.”
“What are you doing here?” Pixie asked him, the huge grin on her face worth every uncomfortable moment of the shitty overnight flight.
Suddenly he didn’t feel tired at all. “I was in the vicinity, so I thought I’d drop by.” He kissed her again.
“I’m going to vomit. Or punch you. Can’t decide which.” Cujo shook his hand and slapped his shoulder, with enough force to send him a little off balance. It wasn’t so hard as to take offence, but it certainly wasn’t harmless.
Dred grinned. He understood where Cujo was coming from and was happy that Pixie had someone to look out for her when she was in Miami and he wasn’t.
“Four thousand miles is nowhere close to the vicinity,” Pixie said. She stood on her toes and kissed him quickly on the lips. “But I am very glad you came by.”
“What time are you off today?”
“Not until five, and Eric called in sick, so I really can’t bail today.” She took his hand and led him to the empty kitchen area.
Out of sight of the others, he let his hands to slide over her ass, and sucked the skin on the side of her neck. “Don’t worry about me. I came here to see you. Don’t care where that happens,” he murmured.
He smiled as she tilted her neck away from him, allowing him better access.
Fuck. She was delicious. He stood up straight but kept his arm around her waist. There was no way he could do what he wanted with her while they were still here.
His flight home wasn’t until quarter past nine, so he didn’t need to leave Pixie’s condo until seven.
He needed to talk Trent into letting his girl go an hour early.
“It’s so good to see you, Dred. It’s been a crappy week, and I really missed you.”
“You were on my mind all the time too. Not sure what that says about us, but I like it.” He took in her pretty eyes. “Anyway, I have an idea for a new tattoo. You think Trent or Cujo can fit me in?”
“Sure, let’s go see the calendar. I think Trent’s good in another hour or so.”
Several hours and one tattoo later, Dred glanced over at Pixie. She was laughing at something Lia said.
“So what will it cost me for you to let Pix leave now?” he asked Trent, itching to get Pixie alone for as many hours as they could manage. It was three o’clock and he watched Trent tape the cover over the incredible rose he’d inked as a tribute to Petal on Dred’s lower forearm.
Trent looked around the shop, presumably calculating what needed to get done before the studio closed in a few hours. “Your timing sucks, man,” he said. “Couldn’t you drop in like Superman on a Wednesday?”
Dred laughed. “If only I had that much control over my schedule. Was meant to fly straight back to Toronto but did a trade with the guys so I could fly through here today.”
“What was the trade?’ Trent asked as he turned the black baseball cap on his head around so it faced the right way.
“We were meant to pitch in to have the garden landscaped this summer at the group home we grew up in, now I’m footing the bill while they work on a new arrangement for one of our songs.”
“Was it worth it?” Trent asked seriously.
Dred looked over to where Pixie was laughing with a group of women at the desk. “Yeah,” he said. “Worth every nickel.”
“We’re friends now, right? So I can say shit that pisses you off and you’ll get over it, right?”
Dred had been waiting for this moment and knew what was coming. Pixie smiled at him from across the room and suddenly it didn’t matter what Trent needed to say. “Sure,” he replied.
“Be careful with her. It’s not my place to tell you what I know. But, well . . . it took her a long time to get over whatever happened before Cujo and I found her in that doorway one morning.”
Dred was momentarily confused. With the tilt of Trent’s head, he could have sworn Trent meant the doorway to Second Circle. “When you say found her? Like she was waiting for a tattoo one morning, or sleeping there?”
Trent’s easy demeanor changed. “Forget I said anything. It’s her story, not mine.
Just don’t . . . don’t be that guy. She’s my kid sister in every way that counts.
Everything about you is—fuck—up until meeting Harper—shit.
Don’t hurt her.” Trent took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair before placing it back on.
Dred understood what Trent was saying and, more importantly, why he was saying it. He got what it meant to redefine family. He only had to look at his own living situation. “I hear you. If I could make you promises about where this is going, I would. But I can’t.”
The idea of Pixie sleeping not ten feet from where he was sitting rubbed up against his own memories.
Nights he’d spent sleeping in friend’s garages or living rooms while his mom worked the streets and took strange men back to the tiny apartment they lived in.
Why hadn’t Pixie told him any of that? In fact, he realized, she hadn’t shared much of her previous life with him beyond her real first name.
He looked at Trent who was eying him coolly. “Look,” he said, choosing his words carefully, because he could feel the weight of their importance, “I want this. And I think she does too. We’ve got to figure out how to be in a relationship with each other.”
Trent frowned for another moment before smiling again. “Fine. Go. We’ll manage. But next time we’re in L.A., you can take me to that sushi place again. Your treat.”
Dred walked to Pixie to pay. He handed her his credit card. “When you’ve run this through, we’re leaving.”
“We are?” She cocked her head and smiled flirtatiously.
“Yes, Snowflake. And you and I are going to take the fastest route between here and naked.”
Cujo groaned beside him. “Oh my God. You made my fucking ears bleed.”
Pixie laughed and settled Dred’s bill, and, with the help of a taxi, made that happen in what felt like no time at all.
* * *
Pixie placed her key in the door to the apartment, but it swung open, ripping the key from her fingers. She tripped forward, but Dred caught her before she crashed into Lia who looked as shocked as she felt.
Pixie felt the laughter bubble up inside her. “Oh my gosh, Lia. I’m sorry.”
Lia looked over Pixie’s shoulder and obviously seeing Dred there, grinned at her. “No worries, Pix. I popped home to change. I’m going to the studio to help them catch up. Hey, Dred.”
“I shouldn’t have bailed.” She turned to Dred. “I should go back.”