Page 40 of Under the Ink

While she wouldn’t want to live here, one thing was certain: it felt like she was on a vacation from her life. But, she thought as she washed her hands, she had to remember that thiswasn’ta vacation. It was a scouting mission—and, thanks to this job, she was going to discover her new life.

It was out there waiting for her.

Shutting off the bathroom light, she started to head toward her bunk and decided instead to get a quick drink. Having mostly stopped drinking alcohol since starting the job, she’d been craving lots of H2O. There was a supply of bottled water in the fridge, and she could get a drink and take the bottle with her to bed, just capping it so it’d be there overnight.

Soon after she snuck into the kitchen area, though, she realized she was not alone. And what a stupid move to be wandering around the bus like this, considering she’d worn her usual outfit to bed—a tank top and shorts.

So much exposure.

But maybe she could just grab a bottle of water and dart off before anyone realized she was there. Sure, the driver was at the front, but she doubted he’d be paying any attention to her. It was the body up near the “living area” past the kitchen that concerned her.

Quickly, she grabbed a water and shut the door—but she was too late. “Naomi, what are you doin’ up so late?”

Naomi turned, even though she wished she could just slide behind the door and climb the stairs to the bunk area before jumping back in bed—but she didn’t want to be rude. “Hey, Andy. I could ask you the same question.”

Now that she’d been roped in, she allowed herself to look at him. He was sitting in one of the seats that, together, formed a couch of sorts—and the TV on the opposite wall was playing a DVD but the sound was off. When he stood, there was no mistaking the bottle of vodka in his hand. “I was havin’ a bit of a pity party—but now thatyou’rehere, we can have arealparty.”

“Oh, I was just heading—”

“Can I ask you a question, darlin’?”

Had she not already known he was drinking, she wouldn’t have noticed the slight slur in his voice, the softening of the edges of his words. And although his gait was steady as he moved toward her, his steps were deliberate as if he needed to be careful.

Naomi felt the instinct to square her shoulders as if to appear larger, but she fought that urge, because it also had the opposite effect. It would show far more of her body, something she didn’t want to do, especially around this guy. “Sure.” Everything else in her head, she didn’t say…because she wanted to make it quick.

“What you got against me?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t have anything against you. I just want to go to bed.”

“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about.” He got close enough that Naomi could smell his breath—but her back was pressed into the fridge, and she felt like if she moved closer to the door, he would take that personally too. “I’m talkin’ about the cold shoulder you give me.”

What the hell was he talking about? “Cold shoulder?”

“Yeah. Is ol’ Andy just chopped liver to you?”

“Look…you’ve obviously had way too much to drink. We can talk in the morning.”

“Itismorning, darlin’.

“I mean when the sun’s up. After we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.”

Without warning, he pinned her against the refrigerator so she couldn’t move. “I was thinkin’ you and me could get a good night’s sleep together. What do you say?”

Naomi could hardly concentrate as her body froze. But when Andy moved his mouth to her ear and started whispering, she managed to move her muscles again. “I think me and you could make beautiful music together.”

“Back the hell off!” she said, pushing against him. Fortunately, hewaspretty drunk and lost his footing, stumbling backwards.

“I knew it. You fuckin’ slutty tramp. There’s a reason you look like Annabelle.”

Naomi had no idea what the hell he was talking about—but she wasn’t going to stick around to find out. She ran quickly through the doorway toward the stairs. Once she’d arrived in the bunk area, she just stood there, waiting for him to follow. There were enough guys in this area, sleeping or not, that he’d have to fight them too.

Ifthey were trustworthy…

Had the driver even heard their scuffle?

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