Page 22 of Joey

“They got it wrong.”

David’s mouth quirked. “Really? How unfortunate.” He stepped closer, and though still half a room away, it was too close for Joey’s comfort. “They seemed very clear that you were someone worth noting. If you’re hoping to keep your head down, it seems like it hasn’t worked.”

Joey stood. “I’m not who they think I am.”

“Okay.” David nodded slowly. “They seem adamant, though.”

Joey strode to the sink and placed the glass inside. He couldn’t wash it. He needed to get out of there. David was reaching for an answer Joey refused to give him. When he reached the door, his hand clasped around the handle, David spoke again.

“Gossip is a funny thing. It can take the most innocent of statements and tweak and fold and twist until it becomes something completely different. Be careful, Mr Reynolds.”

Joey didn’t look back, not wanting to see if David’s face revealed the truth of the threat he’d just made. It hadn’t slipped his notice that David used his real name, not the pseudonym he’d given Meredith. Ethan strode towards him as he exited, eyebrows raised.

“Everything okay?”

Joey shook his head and headed for the exit, not caring if Ethan followed or not. He pulled his hat further down on his head and hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets. Ethan’s car unlocked as he reached it, and he slid inside without a word. Ethan slipped in beside him and started the engine. He didn’t hesitate and drove straight home.

Staring out of the window, Joey worked through everything he had to grab from the house before he could leave. He needed to give Ethan an explanation, too. It was the least he could do, especially if journalists were going to be bugging him because someone told him of their connection. He had a feeling David wouldn’t be as quiet as people expected him to be.

When the front door of his current sanctuary closed behind them, Joey faced Ethan. “I have some explaining to do.”

“You don’t need to explain anything you don’t want to.”

Joey snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, I do. I’ve drawn you into this, which means you need to know what might come your way.”

Ethan blinked at him. “Okay.” He sighed. “I think we need coffee for this.” He slipped past Joey and disappeared.

Joey waited a few minutes before following and settling into a chair at the table. He had no idea where to start with his story. He wasn’t even sure if he could voice some of it. But Ethan deserved the truth. His life might be irrevocably changed by hiding Joey away from prying eyes.

A mug appeared in front of him, the scent of coffee relaxing his shoulders. “Thanks,” he said.

Ethan sat opposite him and sipped the steaming brew, seemingly uncaring of scalding his mouth. “So…”

Joey wrapped both hands around the piping hot mug and let the heat warm him as far as it could reach. “My real name is Joey Reynolds. I own a tattoo business in London called Life in Ink. That’s the truth. What I neglected to say was that we tattoo celebrities regularly. My business comprises four artists, including myself, who often travel across the country to meet with celebrities to tattoo them.” He licked his lips. “As you can imagine, I’m in the public eye a lot. It’s no secret what I do or for whom, except for the NDAs I’ve signed, stopping me from sharing certain information I see or hear. That means, when something happens, it becomes public knowledge quickly.” He scraped his lower teeth over his upper lip, unsure if he could continue.

“I’m assuming something big happened. You don’t need to tell me.”

Ethan’s simple acceptance of Joey’s words had his shoulders unwinding further. “I do. I need to tell someone. I need to tellyou.” He glanced up, becoming ensnared in Ethan’s gaze. “You’ve given me so much. Even things I can’t explain. I owe you everything. Instead, I’m bringing chaos down on you.”

“Pfft. Chaos is good for the soul.” Ethan winked at him, making Joey chuckle, half-hearted though it was.

He blew out a breath, squaring his shoulders to take the weight of the pain he would feel once the words started flowing.

“Elliott Kennedy.” He glanced up to see if the name registered with Ethan, but his expression stayed the same. “My best friend.” He huffed a laugh. “Always getting into trouble, ever since we met in high school. High on life. Loved without question. Fearless.” Joey swallowed, nostrils flaring as he tried to take in enough oxygen. “We’d been at a party. A fairly high-profile one. Elliott was tipsy, the same as me, but not overly drunk. He disappeared for a while, as he usually did when he was on the prowl for a partner, but eventually, he made his way back to me. We called a taxi and headed home. I dropped Elliott off first, then the taxi took me to my place.”

Joey inhaled, trying to stop the wave of emotion threatening to close his throat. His eyes burned, and he breathed through it all, pushing everything back.

“I visited him the next day because he’d asked me to tattoo him. I knew he’d be hungover, so I didn’t go over until after lunch, taking some food and coffee with me to perk him up.” His stomach roiled. “I let myself in as I always did. When he didn’t answer when I called his name, I went searching. I found him…” He exhaled. “I found him hanging from the bannister.”

Images flashed through his head, taking him through the scene over and over, still trying to figure out why Elliott had done it. It made no sense. Joey had seen nothing to advertise that Elliott had felt depressed or worthless or anything like that. It had come as a complete shock to him. He’d spent more hours than he wanted to admit trying to figure out what he’d missed. What had happened to make Elliott desperate enough to end things? Joey had yet to find the answer. And that was something that hurt more than anything else. How could Joey trust himself when he couldn’t see that his best friend was in such pain?

“It wasn’t your fault, Joey,” Ethan said, reaching across the table to cover Joey’s hands with his own. “Sometimes, you can’t see inside of someone, no matter how close you are to them. Some people are good at hiding.”

“He was my best friend, Ethan. How could I not see it?” A drop of water hit his hand, his tears no longer held back.

“It’s not your fault.” The words wouldn’t penetrate Joey’s pain, though he understood Ethan was trying to help. “What made you come here?” Ethan asked.

“After I called the police and made a statement, people flocked to the shop, trying to get news and photos. It was a circus. I couldn’t deal with it. So I ran. Just up and left. Kept driving and stopping to sleep in my car, then driving again. I only answered messages from Ani, the assistant manager of my shop. I’ve not spoken to anyone else since, except for the police, and that was only once.”

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