Page 41 of Pretty Monster

“Hey, I heard that,” Jim throws across the shop.

“You were meant to,” Aaron teases, and just like that, he whips his shirt off and drops down onto my chair. “Alright, let’s do this before I turn into a little bitch and chicken out.”

Precisely three hours later, I stand with Aaron as he gazes into the mirror, a dorky smile stretching across his face as he takes in the new ink that takes up a large portion of his back. “Holy fuck,” Aaron grunts. “Have I ever told you how fucking amazing you are?”

I laugh, one of my first real laughs in over a week. “You might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“I second that,” a voice sounds from behind me, making me jump.

I whip around, finding Viper standing barely a few feet away, and I mentally scold myself for not paying attention to the bell chiming over the door again. Maybe this is why someone is so easily getting away with screwing with my window every night. My mind is blocking everything out. Perhaps this is some kind of natural coping mechanism for my brain, trying to protect itself, but right now, all it’s doing is fucking with me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as Viper steps into me, his hand falling to my waist as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek.

“Just came to check on you,” he says, his gaze subtly shifting toward Crew’s empty station. “You doing alright?”

“I’d be doing better if people quit asking me that,” I quip, not wanting to discuss my feelings with Viper. Hell, having to come clean to Big Jim this morning was bad enough.

“Message received loud and clear,” Viper says.

“Hey, listen,” I say, moving with Aaron back toward my chair to start his aftercare as Viper makes himself at home in my station. He leans against the table, almost mimicking the stance Big Jim was in earlier, only Viper has to go one extra step and cross his big arms over his chest in case passersby didn’t already think he was intimidating enough. “I, ummm . . . I think I owe you an apology.”

“The fuck you do,” he mutters.

“No, really,” I continue. “Last week I came at you and made ugly accusations without a shred of evidence, and you didn’t deserve that. But not only that, you resisted biting my head off, despite how badly you wanted to.”

“You don’t know that’s what I wanted.”

“Yeah,” I scoff. “I do. It was written all over your face. But either way, I’m sorry. You were really cool about the whole thing when I didn’t deserve it.”

Viper nods, accepting my apology, and something tells me that’s all that’ll be said about it. He’s not the type to linger on a topic or draw something out, which is surprising seeing as though he’s been relentlessly hanging on to the idea of making me his old lady for years, despite my constant refusal.

“Alright, if you’re all good, I’m gonna jet,” Viper says. “Got shit to take care of.”

A soft smile pulls at my lips, and despite not needing him to check up on me, I appreciate the thought and the time he’s taken out of his day to stop by. He goes to push off the table when I find myself reaching out toward him. “Before you go,” I say, my brows furrowing, unsure why I’m even asking this of him. “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone in security, would you?”

Viper immediately steps closer to me, his body going stiff. “Why the fuck do you need someone in security?” he demands, his gaze quickly scanning the street before flicking toward the back of the shop. “Did something happen?”

“No. Shit. Calm down. Everything’s okay,” I say, resisting the urge to laugh, because honestly, in his line of work, I suppose looking over your shoulder is just a part of the job description. “I was just thinking about getting some security cameras installed in my apartment. I think one of my neighbors is screwing with me so I figured, why not?”

Viper holds my stare a moment longer than necessary, and it’s clear he knows I’m lying, that there’s another reason I want to get security cameras installed, but it’ll be a cold day in hell when I actually tell him that I think I have a stalker sneaking into my apartment every night, somehow unlocking my window from outside. If he knew, he’d never leave my side, and in the blink of an eye, I’d have his men stationed outside my door while he slept sitting in the armchair across from my bed. Hell, that’s assuming he doesn’t go complete caveman and just kidnap me instead, insisting I move into his home like some kind of twisted romance novel.

“I know a guy,” Viper finally says. “He’ll have it installed by the time you’re home tonight.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” Viper says. “Keys.”

My brows furrow, and he holds his hand out toward me. “I’m not going to ask again. Keys, Kyah,” Viper growls, that familiar anger flashing in his deadly eyes.

Shit.

Hastily scrambling for my bag, I fish my keys out and drop them into his hand, and as he turns away, I call after him. “Wait. How much is it gonna cost? I’ve got some cash saved up.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ky. It’s on me. The fucker owes me a favor anyway.” And with that, Viper is gone, leaving me gaping after him while kinda terrified of the thought of having him and his henchmen alone in my apartment.

It’s dark by the time I start for home, walking through the waning crowd in the streets of Brooklyn. Exhaustion clouds my mind as I continue thinking about the design I created this morning. Hell, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day. It really is terrifyingly beautiful, and it speaks a dark truth about the man I’m not sure I really knew at all. It’s every fear and tormenting thought in my mind displayed before me on paper.

Maybe Big Jim is right. Maybe I should use the design to complete my sleeve. I’d have to make a few alterations to make it fit the space available, but I could make it work, and there’s no denying it would be beautiful. Plus, it’s also a bonus that I know Big Jim would do an incredible job with it.

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