Page 79 of Haunted

It takes me a moment to fully understand what he’s saying. All I can think about is the unexpected way he makes me feel. I blink several times and push the foggy haze of being so close to him away.

I open my mouth to ask what he means, but a noise from the back interrupts me. Luca turns and we both look toward the hallway to see Ella coming toward us, her head bent as she looks at her phone.

Without looking up, she says, “Luca, Mom wants you to—” She comes to a halt when she sees Luca and me standing in the middle of the waiting area. “Oh, hi, Jules.”

My stomach is still fluttering crazily, but I manage a smile. “Hey.”

There’s questions in her eyes when she directs them to Luca.

“What are you doing here so early? You weren’t supposed to be here until two,” Luca asks, stepping away from me.

She looks at me then back to Luca before replying. “Samcalled and asked if I could fit him in today. I told him I’d come in a couple hours early.”

“Bet Vicki didn’t like that much,” he remarks, a smirk tilting his lips up.

She rolls her eyes. “You’d bet right. She hates giving up any of our weekend hours.”

It turns quiet, and I shift uncomfortably on my feet. Ella’s eyes keep returning to me, and each time they do, I want to fidget. I know she must be wondering why I’m here. I don’t know if Luca called her yesterday when he called his parents, and if he did, what he told her.

“Jules is going to hang out today,” Luca says, breaking the awkward silence.

“Okay.” A twinkle enters her eyes. “You can watch Luca and me kick ass on the needle.”

I laugh, glad the uncomfortable moment is over. I’m looking forward to seeing the ins and outs of tattooing. I’m especially anxious to see Luca while he works.

She looks at Luca. “Mom wants you to call her. Said she needed to talk to you about Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll go do that now.”

As he walks away, leaving Ella and me alone, she comes closer, concern lighting her eyes.

“Is everything okay? Areyouokay?”

I don’t know if I’m ready to tell her what Theo did. The thought of her not believing me or casting blame my way makes me leery on being completely truthful. I wouldn’t blame her. She doesn’t know me that well. Why would she believe me over her brother? It still surprises me that Luca believed me. However, I can’t outright lie. Whether or not Ella looks at me as a friend, I think of her as such, and I really don’t want to lie to her.

“I’m fine.” I look down and force my fingers to stop twistingtogether. Lifting my head, I give her what I can at the moment. “Theo and I had an argument, and I needed to get away.”

Her eyes narrow, and I have no doubt she knows there’s more to the story. Luckily, she doesn’t press me, just offers instead, “If you need to talk, I hope you know you can call me.”

I smile, grateful for her offer. My memories of before my coma consisted of a family I could count on when I needed them. They may not have been the perfect family, but they were mine. I woke up from my coma with no one except a strange man who calls himself my husband and has tried to force himself on me twice. I’ve felt both scared and lost the last several weeks. My only saving grace has been Aria, and Ella the couple times she’s stopped by or taken me to my doctor’s appointment. And now Luca.

With that thought in mind and Ella’s reassuring words, I wonder… maybe I’m not as alone as I thought.

THE BUZZING OF THE tattoo machine is quieter and more soothing than I thought it would be. But it’s the complete and utter concentration on Luca’s face as he tattoos the guy named Garrett in front of him that captivates me. I never knew watching someone work could be so mesmerizing. This is Luca in his element. I don’t have to know him that well to sense this. He loves what he does. You can see it in the attention he gives the design he’s working on.

There’s low music playing in the background, and I wonder if that helps his concentration. He and the guy have spoken periodically, but even so, you can tell his focus is meticulously on his work.

The shop’s been open several hours, but this is the first time I’ve been able to watch Luca work. I sat with Ella withher first client. Her skills are almost as good as Luca’s, but she’s more vocal while tattooing, opting to joke and laugh with her client or sing to the music she had going in the background.

While Ella finished up her client, Luca ordered pizza for lunch. All three of us sat on the couches in the waiting room to eat, Ella saying they were more comfortable than the chairs in the break room. Several people came in to inquire about tattoos and they took turns answering questions or setting up appointments. I noticed the phone rang quite a bit, so after lunch, I offered to play secretary for a while. When one of Luca’s regulars came in, he asked if I wanted to come to the back to watch. I jumped at the opportunity, anxious to see him work.

The buzzing stops, and after wiping the design with a napkin that’s already half saturated with ink, he sits up from his hunched over position. Both of his hands are midair as he looks over the art he created.

Sitting up straighter on the stool I’m on, I try to take a better look. Luca’s eyes lift to mine.

“Come look.”

I get up from the stool and walk over until I’m standing beside him. The man lying on the chair that’s laid down as a bed has his head turned toward Luca, and his eyes lift to mine. He’s been so quiet the last thirty minutes I thought he had fallen asleep. Although I don’t see how anyone could fall asleep while there’s a needle repeatedly being stabbed at them. But then, looking at the guy and seeing most of his back is already covered, I’m sure he’s used to the bite of the needle.