Page 4 of Ink

“Yeah, why?”

“There was a guy in here the other night that bought that, right before you came in. He’s a short guy, bald… does that sound like the guy you’re looking for?” Her voice shakes when she talks.

I don’t blame her. Thinking about the depraved monsters of the world and all the damage they could do wears on a person. I know it’s had an impact on how I see things.

“Maybe. Do you have any security footage I can look at?”

She chews at her bottom lip and nods. “Yeah, it’s in the back. I think the last four weeks are on there. I’ll unlock the door for you.”

I follow her into the back room where a stack of cleaning supplies is shelved next to the electronics. I’ve looked over dozens of security footage tapes in my life as a bounty hunter, but this takes the cake for high tech. I need to tell Kane how impressed I am with this the next time I see him. Most of these shops barely have any security. If they do, it’s an old-style system that plays everything in some faded, fuzzy version of black and white that makes it really difficult to identify anyone. I personally don’t see the point in that. If you’re going to bother with security at all, it should be good security.

This system is full color with live footage, and I can scroll across the board to watch both live data and saved data from thirty days back.

The bell on the front door rings and Bunny glances toward me. “I gotta help with that. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Her tone is light and soft, leaving my palms itching to reach out for her.

One kiss. One squeeze. One moment with her in my arms. It’s all I want.

Instead, I watch her round ass walk away, then go back to the footage, scrolling back thirty days to see what I find. I know Bunny said he was in yesterday, but I wonder if he’s been in before then, too.

As the video plays, I try to concentrate on the front door, but instead all my eyes want to look at is the girl at the counter. Her head is down. She’s correcting papers, pulling stickers out to place on the top, her hand weaving through her hair as she feathers it back and hums.

This footage quality is insane!

She looks content, marking the papers, working along, until a man walks inside.

I know on first glance he’s not the man I’m looking for, but this dude looks like an asshole none the less. He’s tall with a thin build and jet-black hair. His beard is scruffy, and he wears torn jeans and a black tee shirt. His focus is on Bunny.

My chest tightens. I wonder if this is the ex. I can tell by his body language that he knows her.

Bunny looks up. “What do you want, Dillon?”

“You owe me money,” the man grunts. What kind of fucking guy talks to a woman about owing him money?

Bunny rolls her head to the side. “You know I don’t have it, Dillon. I’m working with what I have. I barely have enough to eat right now.”

The guy laughs. “You look like you’re eating.”

Get fucked, you little piece of shit! He better calm down soon or he’s a dead man!

“Please leave,” Bunny says, brushing her hair back from her vision. “I’m exhausted. I can’t do this right now.”

The man walks around the counter and puts his hand on her wrists before backing her against the wall.

I kick back from the chair and stare at the screen with anger in my throat, my fists balled at my sides. Who the fuck does he think he is?

“Get me my fucking money, bitch, or else.” I haven’t found any information on the asshole I’m looking for… but fuck it. Some things take priority.

I swing open the door and storm toward the front counter. I have no idea what face I’m wearing as I round the aisle toward the scene. If I was to guess by Bunny’s expression when I come into view, it isn’t good. Her eyes are wide, and her shoulders are square. I need to calm down. I don’t want to scare her. I want to take care of her, though I’m not sure I’ve ever had to calm myself down on the spot like this before. Usually, I let the anger ride. It’s not ideal, but somewhere between red-hot rage and plain old frustration is a sweet spot for me. In that place of warm, wild, abandon is where I live. It’s what feels most comforting.

“What’s wrong? Did you find something?”

I close my eyes and suck in a breath, releasing the tension from my fists. “Where is he? Who’s Dillon?”

She swallows hard and looks away, then back again. Bunny straightens herself out a bit, looks at me calmly, and says, “Dillon is my ex.”

My skin heats. “And why the fuck was he here?”

“He’s here because he thinks I owe him money.” She sighs. “I’m sure you saw everything.”

---