Before. After. Before. After.
My heart skips a beat.
Scars. Ink. Scars. Ink. Scars. Ink.
Something deep inside me settles and I smile.
This.
This is my solution.
My salvation.
A breath later, I’m calling my brother’s number.
He answers quickly, “What’s up?”
“I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Your tattoo artist. What’s his name?”
“His name’s Jimmy, but if you’re lookin’ to get ink you’ll have to find someone else. He left a while back. Moved out to Vegas before the shop changed hands.”
“Damn.”
He chuckles. “Go down there and talk to someone, Presley. I know a couple of the original guys are still there. Not sure who else Adam has in there now, but I can’t imagine any of them do shitty work.”
Ugh. How the hell did I forget that Adam owns the only fucking tattoo shop in town?
Literal facepalm.
Holden doesn’t miss the way I grumble under my breath and he’s not one to let anything go.
“What’s that about?”
“Nothing. I know you’re right. I’ll make a trip down there. I just thought it’d be easier to go with someone you were familiar with.”
“Sorry, sis. I can go down there with you if you want. Need to scope out the talent and find someone new for myself.”
“I’ll let you know,” I tell him.
I won’t.
I love my brother more than any other male in existence, but I can’t let him be involved.
Not in this.
“Sounds good. Gotta run though. I’m needed at the bar.”
“Thanks, Holden. Love you.”
“Love you too, sis. Later.”
I drop my phone and sigh.
Looks like my solution has become a problem.
I can either take my chances and hope like hell I don’t run into Adam at his own shop, or I can look for one in another town. Out of town is probably the better option. It almost guarantees I won’t see anyone I know. On the other hand, it doesn’t make much sense to drive so far when I have an option right here in Blackwood.
So what if Adam can’t stand me?
He doesn’t have to be the one to give me a tattoo.
In fact, I’d prefer he didn’t.
The thought of his hands anywhere on my body…
No. Not going there.
I’ll go down to the shop and talk to one of the other guys.
Anyone but him.
TEN
Adam
Flipping through applications from the shop, I lift my glasses to rub my eyes. Readjusting them on my face, I silently curse the damn things. Hate fucking wearing them, but I couldn’t take the irritation from my contacts anymore today. I flip through the last few applications, discarding the ones that don’t include a portfolio. I require applicants to submit samples of their work. If they can’t be bothered, they won’t be considered for employment.
I won’t hire someone without seeing their talent.
And if someone can’t provide me with what I ask for when they apply, I’m not going to waste my time looking at their application.
I have high standards and I give zero fucks what anyone else thinks.
Tossing the applications I won’t consider, I set the others aside and start looking through the portfolios one by one. The art is more important than the information. Always.
As I look through tattoo images, my mind wanders to Noah.
I still can’t get over the fact that he’s my brother.
I’ve been sitting on this information for a week now and I still haven’t a fucking clue what to do with it.
Noah is a mystery to me. I’ve talked to him a few times since I moved to Blackwood and he seems like a nice guy, but I wouldn’t say I truly know him. I want to. I want to get to know him and have a relationship with him. No matter the circumstances, he’s blood, and that’s something I don’t have much of in my life. Hannah is all I have left. Well...she was. Now I have a brother that I want in my life.
But it’s a complicated situation.
How the hell do you confront someone you barely know and tell them they’re family?
I don’t know how he’ll react, if he’ll even believe me.
I don’t know if he’ll be open to having a relationship. He might not want a damn thing to do with me. There’s too many unanswered questions and I haven’t decided if I’m ready for the answers.
I hear the front door shut and Cannon’s voice carry through the house.
“Adam, where you at, bro?”
“Back yard! Grab me a beer on your way out,” I call out loud enough for him to hear me.
He joins me on the patio, dropping into a chair across from me.
“Ryan’s headed over,” he says, handing me a bottle. “Whatcha workin’ on?”
“Applications.”
“Any prospects?”
“A few,” I tell him, tossing a stack of portfolios his way before I focus back on the pictures in front of me.
A low whistle draws my attention a few minutes later.
“This one for sure,” he says, sliding the file over to me.
“Hell yeah, already decided to call that one in and I haven’t even looked at the application.”
Cannon chuckles. “Should’ve known.”
He finishes looking through the ones I gave him and sets them aside. We work in silence for a while, me passing him portfolios that catch my attention, and him separating them into stacks. By the time we finish, we narrow it down to three. I only need one or two more artists, but I’ll bring them all in and see what happens.
Kicking back and putting my feet up, I thank him for his help.
He always tells me it’s unnecessary, but I like to make sure he knows he’s appreciated. Cannon’s always been my right hand when it comes to the business. Involved since day one, he’s been there every step of the way, helping me become a success. I owe him more than gratitude.
After we take my “work” back inside, we kick back with another beer before Ryan finally shows up.
“Took you fuckin’ long enough,” Cannon jokes.
Ryan laughs, shaking his head. “I’m not even sorry, man. Hannah’s at a friend’s house and the twins both took a nap at the same time.” He lifts a shoulder, smiling like the cat who got the cream. Guess in this case, he is.
Cannon and I groan, but mine turns to a chuckle when Cannon mutters, “lucky fucker” under his breath. He’s met Camille briefly, and like any other red-blooded male, he thinks she’s hot as fuck. Not sure how he’ll react the first time he sees all three sisters together. His head might explode.
Thoughts of the triplets cause my mind to sway toward the one I’ve been trying not to think about, but I shut that shit down in the span of a heartbeat.