Page 11 of The Inkslinger

“You said noon,” I remind her once the door is closed.

“Actually,” she takes a sip of her coffee before continuing, “I said noonish. And if it weren’t for Damien, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“What does my baby brother have to do with any of this?”

I’m confused as fuck as I stare at her, but I have the feeling that happens to people around here more often than you would think. Hailey is a being unto her own and it didn’t take me long to realize that.

“The little shit almost gave me a heart attack,” she says and laughs. “It was all just a misunderstanding, though.”

“Do I even want to know?” The curiosity is killing me, but I already fucked up once, so I won’t push her if she doesn’t want to tell me.

“Don’t you have something to show me?” Hailey effectively changes the subject.

I gather the sheets of paper from my desk and hand them to her. “Actually, I think I have five or six things to show you. You can pick the one you prefer, or I can do something different.”

I watch her closely as she looks at each sketch, turning them from side to side before placing them on the leather surface of my tattoo chair. The silence is deafening as I wait for her opinion.

This is another old feeling creeping back in. I haven’t been nervous showing a client a design since the first year I opened House of Ink. I know I’m talented and usually that is enough, but I really want her to like at least one of my designs.

“Can we do something that has all of these together?” she murmurs, staring at the sheets.

“What?”

The question catches me off guard. I wasn’t sure there was a single design she would like and now she wants them all. I follow her gaze. It takes me a moment before I finally see that she has been arranging and rearranging the sketches to fit together. There are two butterflies I have done with torn wings, three roses in different phases of decay, and a single skull with a queen’s crown. Now that she has them all together, I can see her vision.

“I won’t be able to pick one,” she says with a smile. “They’re all so beautiful.”

“I should be able to incorporate them into a complete piece. But it will take more than one session and all the available space you have inside your thigh. And I won’t be able to start on Friday.”

“That’s fine with me.” She glances at her watch before facing me again. “I have some stuff I need to do. My rent is paid up for two weeks but if we aren’t done, I can always stay longer. Just let me know when you want to start.”

The thought of her simply disappearing from my life as quickly as she appeared actually causes my chest to hurt. I wonder how long I will be able to drag her sessions out without making it too obvious.

Hailey is clearly unaware of the inner turmoil her words have caused as she slings her handbag over her shoulder, presses a quick kiss to my cheek with the scar, and heads to exit my station. Most women avoid the scar, some can’t even look at it, but she went right for it and it has a strange sensation bubbling underneath my skin. Maybe she doesn’t care about it. That would be something new, I’m so used to people staring.

Opening the inner door to the rest of the shop, she stops with a thoughtful look on her face.

“Do you think seeing me naked is enough to make up for giving Damien a black eye, or should I actually apologize?”

“He saw you naked?” I ask a little too loudly.

“Never mind.” She waves me off not answering my question. “I’ll apologize.”

She is gone in the next instant and I am left with questions that need answers. Now. Grabbing my cell, I pull up my baby brother’s contact details but never hit “dial.” From the front of the shop, Hailey calls my name.

“Laine!”

There is a note of panic in her tone, and I quickly stick my head out of my station to see what the hell is going on. The moment I see the fear on Hailey’s face I am beside her. It takes me a moment to realize what could be freaking her out when I see a man standing outside, looking in through the large pane of glass at the front of the shop.

“Who’s that?” I ask, looking down at her.

“My ex. I have no idea how he found me, but I left to get away from him.” Her voice is higher in pitch than usual, and I know seeing him is really getting to her.

“What do you need from me?” I question. “I can kick his ass if you want.”

My mind instantly goes to my only sister, Irene, and what she went through last year. The fact that her then boyfriend emotionally, verbally, and physically abused her to the point she had to leave New Orleans and start over hundreds of miles away still has anger churning in my gut.

The fact that she found a good guy is the only saving grace in the entire situation. And now Hailey is going through the same thing. Irene may not have let me help her when she needed it, but I’ll be damned if I don’t help Hailey.

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