Page 115 of Under the Ink

“Now,” Ginny said, wiping away a tear, “hurry up and get dressed. We’ve got places to go!”

“Yes, ma’am.” As Ginny left the room and closed the door, Naomi whispered,ma’am? What the hell was wrong with her? It was like she was malfunctioning, being surrounded by all this mushy-gushy love.

After rapping on the door, Ginny popped it open again. “I almost forgot. Bathroom’s over there,” she said, pointing down the hall, “and your box is in the closet.”

“Thanks.”Box?Oh, yeah…her box of stuff that she’d left behind before going on tour. It would have to wait.

Sitting on the bed, she delicately removed the high heels. Those fucking things were torture devices that had given her two nasty blisters on the back of both heels. One had popped, revealing tender exposed skin underneath.

But she didn’t have a Band-Aid—and she definitely didn’t have time to mess around with that crap. Standing up, she unzipped the dress and peeled it off before digging in her bag and pulling out a pair of jeans and her boots. Then she rifled around to find the thickest socks she owned, hoping they would act as a buffer. Even if not, those boots fit well. Naomi was not a heels girl and today had been a great reminder.

No, wait. She had a couple pairs of socks in the box she’d left with her friend in June. Opening the closet door, she was hit again by her friend’s new wealth—because it wasn’t just a closet. It was a walk-in closet with a bench and a full-length mirror, so it took Naomi a few seconds to actually find her box. But it was near the floor, setting on one of the shelves. After placing it on the bench, she opened it and rifled through its contents, shocked at all the crap she’d saved that didn’t seem to matter anymore.

But, ah…there was a thick pair of black socks. Fortunately, the blistering heat of summer was over, so wearing those wouldn’t feel torturous—and they’d definitely make her heels more comfortable.

After putting on the socks and jeans, she looked through the shirts in the bag on the bed—ones she’d worn over and over again on tour. Fortunately, she’d saved up most of her money during her work as Sage’s drum tech and planned on buying a few new things at some point.

Maybe even something sleeveless.

Grinning, she slid a black t-shirt over her head and then found the worn Ziploc bag holding all her makeup before heading into the closet. She sat on the bench and faced the mirror. For a second, she took in her face. The makeup on it now was softer and far more subtle than the way she normally wore it—but it kind of made her look pretty.

Still…she couldn’t walk into a bar looking like a bridesmaid. In seconds, she’d transformed her eyes so that they were dark and smoky, her usual look. As she placed the eye shadow back in the bag, she realized that there were two brown shades with the grays that would—

Nope. Her eyes were good enough.

Standing, she smoothed the t-shirt against her belly. One more thing—the hair comb that held the spray of fake tiny white and light purple flowers that looked like lilacs intermixed with pearls had to go. That wouldnotdo at a metal concert.

And it would definitely appear out of place.

Picking up her phone, she double checked that her debit card was tucked inside. It was and, behind it, that unused learner’s permit that was probably expired. With a nod to herself, she opened the door to the hallway, switching off the light. The door to Ginny’s bedroom on the other end of the hall was closed, but Walker was coming up the stairs just as Naomi got close. “I don’t know if Ginny told you, but there’s some food in the freezer and a few things in the pantry. We didn’t stock up on anything fresh.”

“No worries.” Besides, Naomi wasn’t here for a vacation. She needed to figure out what to do next…and that would wait.

First she had to talk to Sage.

Tapping on the master bedroom door, Walker said, “You ‘bout ready to go?”

“Yeah. Just putting my sandals on.”

“Where are you guys going again?”

“Cozumel.”

Now that Naomi had seen all corners of the continental U.S., she was going to have to consider traveling elsewhere to places like Mexico.

But, before all that, she had to go to downtown Winchester one last time.

And, for the first time in a long time, she said a silent prayer, pleading with the universe that Shock Treatment’s “homecoming” concert wasn’t over yet…

WINCHESTER, COLORADO

SEPTEMBER 12, APPROXIMATELY 10:00 PM

Although Naomi had bought plenty of alcohol in her old hometown, she’d always tried to keep a low profile.

And she’d never been inside one of the bars there. Bars were full of people, and people liked to talk. So she’d never been much of a social drinker.

But tonight she wasn’t at Bad Boys to socialize.

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