Page 24 of Pomegranate Kiss

“The silence is killing me,” Cam murmured, pulling away to take another sip from her mug. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“Cam, this stuff is the real deal,” Lex responded, brushing her lips over the top of her head. “Is this what you went to school for?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I wanted to pursue something—anything—in the art field.”

When she stopped talking, the silence filled with the question Lex didn’t ask even though she had to admit she was curious. She continued flipping through the sketchbook of drawings andpaintings that made her fingers itch to take those shapes and forms to skin.

“Then I dropped out, and all of those dreams crumbled to dust,” Cam said. She leaned past to place her mug on the nightstand, and then she nestled back in the crook of Lex’s shoulder. Lex tightened her arm around Cam, looping her hand around to rest on her stomach. Cam traced the ink of the tattoo along Lex’s thigh, her focus fixated on it.

“There was a teacher I had for graphic design in my third year. I thought it’d be a great practical avenue to pursue, and I was excited for the course,” Cam began, the weight in her voice demanding all of Lex’s attention. “Mr. Williamson was an older guy, and from day one he gave me bad vibes.”

Lex’s grip tightened on Cam as she continued, but she didn’t dare say anything to interrupt this.

“Over the course of the semester, red flags began to pop up. The times he’d ‘accidentally’ brush by me, how he’d call me up to his desk after class and his hand would find its way over mine. He’d begun cornering me to talk about my projects, and I’d have to be blind not to realize he was interested. But what could I do? He hadn’t made any overt moves, and I needed this class.”

Lex’s nails bit into Cam’s skin with how tight she gripped her, and her stomach flipped.

“And then came time for our required meetings. Once I got into the room, I knew something was wrong. I wanted out. He started talking about how I’d been looking at him, and he grabbed my wrist so tight it bruised.” Cam’s voice stuttered, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her chest rising with the movement. “The one thing that saved me was the next student scheduled coming early. The moment the door cracked open, he let go, and the next day I dropped out.”

“That must’ve been terrifying, babe,” Lex murmured, her voice coming out low. Her throat squeezed tight at the way Camopened up to her, at the glaze in her eyes and how her whole body sagged against Lex’s like a lifeline. “If the guy is still employed, I’d be happy to go commit another felony.”

Cam looked up at her, a soft smile on her lips even as her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Nah, not necessary.” Her expression darkened. “He ended up raping a student a year later and got fired. I knew what he was capable of, but I didn’t say anything. And then someone else suffered for it. That’s a regret I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life, because I was too much of a coward to speak up. Bet you wish you hadn’t gotten tangled up with a mess like me, right?”

Lex slipped her fingers under Cam’s chin to tilt her head up. A couple of tears trickled down her cheeks, silvery trails that Lex brushed off with her thumb.

“No one would’ve done anything,” Lex murmured. “If you had spoken up, it was your word against his, and he’d been careful to keep his actions subtle. What happened to the other girl is fucking horrible, but you didn’t do those things. He did. Our system’s unfair as shit.”

Cam blinked away a few more tears and bobbed her head. “It still feels terrible.”

God, she wanted to protect her, to wrap her arms around Cam and hold on until the pain in her eyes dissolved. A deep rage sparked inside, the dormant embers waking to life again. This injustice led her to do drastic things, an anger that careened like a plane toward a crash. This sort of anger had landed her in jail in the first place.

When she stared into Cam’s eyes though, a sorrow lurked in her gaze that spoke to Lex stronger than anything else. She would burn down the world to take away that look in her eyes.

“Yeah, babe, it does,” was all Lex said, all she could say. She leaned back in the bed and they lay there in silence, holding onto each other like refuge in a storm. Around Cam, Lex’s hard shellcracked, the years of carapace she’d built up to keep everyone at an arm’s length. Her heart hurt like she’d plucked it out of her chest to strain against the bare air, but she sat with Cam in the pain—a little dark never frightened her.

What terrified her more than anything was this warmth, this connection that had become more precious to her than riding the highway in summer or the crash of the ocean during a storm. More precious than her own freedom. Lex’s throat dried as she continued to stroke her fingers through Cam’s silken hair, savoring the press of her warm skin.

She didn’t know what she’d do if Cam decided to walk away.

***

Lex sucked in a deep breath, soaking in the scents of rubbing alcohol and the sterilization fluid as the buzz of the stylus filled her ears.

“Matty’s been showing up late for his shifts,” Mitch commented, shifting in the seat as he prepared for the ink. “If you happen to see him at your family dinners, cuff him in the neck for me.”

“That’s your fault for making the Gin Mill the wayward house of Dukas rejects,” Lex drawled, stabilizing his arm before she set to work. The tattoo gun hummed in her hand as she prepared to continue. She’d already finished with the linework of his hellfire piece and most of the shading, but this was her chance to add the flair of detail work she loved.

“You might have a smart mouth, but you were on time and efficient. Matty’s gotten so involved with the motorcycle club that it’s beginning to affect his work.” Mitch gave her an intent look, which she understood as ‘take care of this.’ Neither of them wanted to see Matty fired.

“Better not start with the praise, my man, because my ego does not need inflation,” Lex responded even as her focus never swayed from the canvas before her. The colors and strokes reminded her of painting. After she’d flipped through Cam’s art books the other night, she’d busted out her old acrylics for the first time in forever. God it had felt so good to get her hands on a paintbrush again, and the inspiration flowed from her fingertips.

The buzz of the tattoo gun in her hand had fast become a familiar comfort. She remembered a time before she was a tattoo artist, but ever since she’d begun her apprenticeship, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

“Lex, you working late on Mitch again?” Bell called out as he strolled to the doorframe, gripping it by the top. Lacey slipped in underneath his arm, the petite pistol of a woman perfect for a shop assistant.

“Before Bell gets his hooks in, your first tomorrow afternoon cancelled in case you’ve got anyone waiting,” Lacey said, adjusting the hem of her slim tank that revealed arms begging to be tattooed. Their shop girl had accumulated a few, but everyone, especially Bell vied for her to get more. Lacey twirled around on her heel and blew a kiss to Bell. “She’s all yours.”

“Thanks, doll,” Bell said, offering a wink as she strode on by. He strolled up to them. “I’m going to slide into the free spot tomorrow.” He rolled his pants up his calf and pointed to an old tattoo on his leg. “I need this guy touched up.”

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