Chapter 10 #2
“I’m not telling you what to do,” Cody said, his voice easing just slightly. “You’re grown. You make your own choices.”
He stepped closer then, not in a confrontational way—in a protective way.
“But I am telling you to pay attention,” he said. “Because I care about you too much to watch you walk into something I’ve seen go bad more times than I can count.”
That word again.
Care.
Not control.
Not judgment.
Family.
My chest tightened in a different way now.
“I hear you,” I said quietly.
And I did.
I wasn’t brushing him off.
That wasn’t me.
I always listened to Cody.
He was the one who gave me everything I knew.
The one who believed in me when nobody else did.
“I just…” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t think it’s like that.”
Cody studied me for a long second.
Not angry.
Not disappointed.
Just… knowing.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said.
Silence filled the space again, but this time it didn’t feel like an argument.
It felt like a line.
One I was standing right on the edge of.
“I’ll be careful,” I added, softer now.
Cody nodded once.
“Just don’t ignore your gut,” he said. “And don’t ignore me if something feels off.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
And I meant it.
I really did.
Because I trusted him.
Because I respected him.
Because he had never steered me wrong.
But even standing there—
Hearing everything he said—
Feeling the weight of it settle in my chest—
There was something else there too.
Something louder.
The way Izzy made me feel.
The way everything felt different when he was around.
Alive.
And I chose to believe I could balance both.
That I could hold onto everything Cody gave me—
And still have whatever this was with Izzy.
I thought I was strong enough for that.
Smart enough.
I thought listening was enough.
I didn’t realize—
Understanding something…
and actually, walking away from it—
are two completely different things.
I can feel the shift before I even see it.
The shop isn’t Cody’s anymore.
It’s mine.
I remember standing there the first time the keys sat in my hand, staring at the space like it wasn’t real yet. Like if I blinked too hard, it would disappear and I’d be right back at square one, trying to prove I deserved a shot.
But it didn’t.
It was real.
Every inch of it.
The walls I picked. The setup. The way the light hit the stations just right. The black and rose gold touches, clean but still mine. The lilies on the front desk—subtle, but there. Always there.
I built this.
Me.
I can still feel it in my chest—that mix of pride and disbelief that wouldn’t settle no matter how many times I walked through the door.
I made it.
Even with everything.
Even with people telling me not to do this, not to risk it, not to step out on my own so soon.
Even with Cody warning me to move smart.
I did it anyway.
And he still showed up.
Of course he did.
I can see him now, walking in like he belonged there as much as I did, his wife right beside him, his daughter holding his hand and looking around like the place was something out of a dream.
“Damn,” he said, glancing around, taking it all in. “You did this.”
I smiled—I couldn’t help it. “Yeah… I did.”
He looked at me then, really looked.
And nodded.
Not surprised.
Not impressed.
Just… proud.
That hit deeper than anything anyone else said that night.
“You earned it,” he told me, simple as that.
I felt it settle in my chest.
Because coming from him—
It meant everything.
People started coming in not long after that.
Friends from the industry. Artists I looked up to. People I had met along the way who showed up just to support me, to see what I built, to be part of it.
It turned into something bigger than I expected.
Music low in the background. Drinks being passed around. Laughter bouncing off the walls in a way that made the whole place feel alive.
Some artists even set up, doing small tattoos right there—flash pieces, quick work. People lining up, excited, feeding off the energy.
It felt like a celebration.
Not just of the shop—
But of everything it took to get there.
I moved through it all like I was floating. Talking. Laughing. Taking it in piece by piece because I didn’t want to miss any of it.
This was mine.
I built something real.
And for once—
Everything felt right.
Izzy was there too.
Of course he was.
Right beside me.
His hand brushing mine, his presence constant and easy. He fit into the space like he belonged there, like he had always been part of it.
And part of me liked that.
More than I probably should’ve.
I remember looking over at him at one point, watching the way he moved through the room, the way people noticed him without him trying. Confidence. Charm. That same pull that got me in the first place.
But something else was there too. Subtle. Easy to miss if I wasn’t paying attention.
The looks.
Not from everyone. But enough.
Quick glances. Pauses in conversation. That slight shift in expression when he walked past or when I introduced him.
No one said anything. Not out loud.
But I could see it. Feel it.
Cody saw it too.
I caught him once across the room, his eyes flicking from Izzy back to me. Not judging. Not stepping in. Just… watching.
That same look.
The one that said he was still paying attention.
I should’ve listened to that. I should’ve asked.
But I didn’t.
Because the night was too good. Because I didn’t want to ruin it by digging into something that didn’t feel like it mattered in the moment.
Because Izzy was there with me. Supporting me. Standing by me.
That had to count for something.
Right?
“Proud of you,” he said at one point, his voice low near my ear.
I smiled, leaning into it just slightly.
“You should be.”
He smirked.
“I am.”
And I let myself believe that was enough. That whatever anyone else saw didn’t matter.
Because I had this.
I had my shop. My people. My moment.
And I wasn’t going to let anything take that from me.
The music blurred a little. The laughter stretched. The room started to feel distant around the edges, like something was pulling me away from it. Slow. Unsteady.
The lights—
They flicker.
No.
They don’t flicker.
They change.
Too bright. Too sharp.
The sound shifts. That steady hum of machines twisting into something else. A ringing. High. Persistent.
My chest tightens.
No.
Not here.
Something’s wrong.
The room starts slipping. Faces blur. Voices fade.
And then—
It hits.
Hands.
Rough. Fast.
My body jerks. I can feel it again. The fight.
“I said let her go—!”
My own voice. Louder. Raw. Breaking through everything.
Inez.
“Becca—!”
Her voice. Panic. Fear.
My heart slams.
No.
No, no, no—
The memory crashes in harder now.
Izzy.
His face.
But it’s not the same. Not the way I remember him in the shop.
There’s something else there.
Something I didn’t see before.
Jenna.
Her voice cutting through everything, sharp and controlled.
“Take them.”
My stomach drops.
“No—!”
I’m fighting again. I can feel it. Hands grabbing. Pulling.
“Inez—hold on—!”
I can’t get to her. I can’t—
Another face.
Christina.
Her eyes wide and terrified as she’s dragged away.
“Please—!”
The sound tears through me.
Everything is too loud. Too fast. Too real.
I’m losing control of it. Losing grip.
The ringing gets louder.
The light—
Too bright.
My chest—
I can’t breathe—
And then nothing holds steady.
Everything crashes together. The past. The present. The truth I didn’t want to see.
And as it all slams into me at once, I realize—
I didn’t lose everything in one moment.
It was all leading here.
Every choice. Every warning I heard and didn’t follow. Every sign I ignored.
And now—
I can’t tell if I’m waking up—
Or falling deeper into it.