Page 26 of No Second Chances

“Hell yes,” I tell her. “I can’t really find anyone to go with me, and you’re tall enough that you can see all the openings in the crowd.” I wince when she hits a particularly painful part of the tattoo.

We keep talking, mostly to pass the hours that it takes to cover my scar in the intricate storm that Kassy drew freestyle on my arm.

“Your little nephew had a dope idea,” she says as she wipes blue ink off my arm. “This storm is coming out amazing.”

I sit up a little straighter and look down at the masterpiece she’s creating. It is even more beautiful than I imagined. Swirling clouds with a dozen shades of purple and blue and pink mix together to create a beautiful storm surrounded by streaks of white with a hint of yellow. When I turn my arm while she sits back and stretches her arms above her head, it actually looks like lightning is traveling down my arm and into my wrist.

“Holy shit,” I murmur.

Rachel, who’d left sometime during the tattoo, pops up with a soda in her hand and nods with her lips pursed together. “That’s impressive, Kass.”

Kassy rubs her forehead with the back of her hand and a slight blush creeps up her cheeks. “Thanks. I’m not done yet. But I figured I’d give it my all, especially since it’s a cover-up and how powerful the reason behind it is.”

Swallowing down the tears that threaten to spill out turns out to be harder than I think, and it isn’t until Rachel is handing me a box of tissues that I realize I’m crying while Kassy keeps working on the tattoo.

“I never cry,” I tell them both while Kassy is putting more ink into my skin. “Never.”

“Hey.” Rachel puts her arm around my shoulder. “It’s okay. You made a choice to put that part of your life behind you, to cover that moment with something beautiful.”

“I just…” I keep crying, trying to breathe and force my way through the sudden onslaught of emotion. “I thought I was over it. I processed what happened so long ago, and it hasn’t bothered me since. I don’t understand why it’s hitting me so hard.”

“Because you’re a survivor.”

The familiar deep masculine voice startles me, and I’m not the only one. Kassy jerks her head around, making me think it is a good thing she is done with the tattoo. And even Rachel jumps a little.

Linc stands there, his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants, and rocks back on his feet while he stares at me with an expression I can’t place.

“Your brother told me you were getting a tattoo to cover up the scar, and I had to see it.” The gruff tenor rolls over my skin, causing a shiver to travel down my spine.

“Please, please tell me you’re getting that in your bed at night.” Rachel’s whisper is right next to my ear, and I shake my head with a small tear-filled laugh.

“Nope.” I smack my lips together. “Once upon a time, though.”

Linc moves behind the counter but closer than he was, leaning over to get a better look at my arm, which Kassy is obstructing while she inspects her work. “Can I come see?”

Since it is literally the first direct conversation we’ve had in years that doesn’t have to do with someone else in our families, I have absolutely no idea how to respond or if I should tell him to go fuck himself. The last time he talked to me, he’d been telling me to pull my pants down so he could pull a tick off my ass.

Kassy ends up answering for me. “Yeah.” She moves aside and waves Linc over. “I’m just getting ready to wrap it up.”

I can’t look at him, not and keep the little bit of calm that I’ve managed to get back after crying. Instead, I listen to his boots hit the tile and count.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

He is there, standing so close that I can smell him, and then he shifts. Leaning down so that he can see my tattoo, he puts his arm on the chair, practically touching me. His hand brushes my arm, and a jolt flashes from where our skin touches all the way down into my core.

Linc tilts his head to the side and then looks at me with a puzzled expression. “What’s on your neck?”

I swallow, my throat a fiery combination of ash and regret, and move to cover the necklace before he can see what it is. But I should have known better. Linc has always been faster than me. With one finger, he lifts the necklace I’ve worn every day for over six years out of my shirt and holds it up.

I’m pretty sure everyone around us thinks I’m a fuckin’ weirdo because I sit there with my mouth hanging open, just staring at him like a crazy person.

Linc’s expression never changes. His eyes blaze fiercely as they move from his hand to my face and back again.

He clears his throat and licks his lips. “You kept it? All these years?”

I bite my lip in response. There isn’t much I can say. It’s not like I can lie about it and tell him I hadn’t. I had. And I’ve worn it every single day, hoping that he’ll come back to me.

“What’s that?”

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