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Mason laughed a sort of confused, bewildered laugh. He threw his hands up.
“What is up with you, man?” he asked loudly. “Two days ago you would have suspected the kid of stealing our air and now, with no other alternative available, you say that it couldn’t be her.”
“It couldn’t,” I said gruffly, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! Rian?” Mason said, turning to our friend in desperation. “A little help here?”
“It is peculiar,” was all Rian said with his eyes still on me.
“Thanks,” Mason scoffed. “As helpful as always.” He grabbed my shoulders, levelled his gaze with mine. “Look, I don’t know if you hit your head on your bike without us knowing or what, but Aurnia was the only one who could have taken that money.”
His plea was impassioned. My tone was emotionless as I said simply, “No.”
Mason’s eyes darted between mine for a moment and then he roared. He gripped his hair and stared up at the ceiling.
“Why?” he moaned. “Why did I ever go into business with these two? What did I do to earn such punishment? I could be with Tina right now. Or wait—was it Tiffany?”
Rian stepped in front of Mason’s meltdown, his finger against his chin. He moved very close. He studied me quietly before saying, “Why the change of heart?”
“What?” I asked, leaning my head back from his.
He just leaned in closer.
“Why are you suddenly so certain of Aurnia’s innocence when not so long ago you didn’t want her in sight, when not so long ago you were practically ready to drag her off to the gallows, when not so long ago you kept a near constant eye on her because of your belief that she would do exactly what she is now being accused of with fairly damning evidence?” Rian squinted. “Why, my friend?”
It was a fair question. It was not a question I wanted to answer. I couldn’t say it was because I’d seen her asleep on the floor of my apartment. Seen her thin legs in the moonlight, her hands tucked beneath her cheek like a child. Seen the innocence of her lips, of her eyelids quivering in a child’s dream.
I couldn’t say that it was because I’d developed a bond with her that night she rode on my motorcycle. That I’d felt her struggle against me. Felt her heart pound against mine and her thighs move against mine. I couldn’t say that I knew her because of it, understood her because of it.
I couldn’t say that it was because I’d wanted to kiss her when she returned to the shop. That I’d wanted to press her up against the wall. That I’d wanted to give myself over to her. That I’d wanted, in return, for her to give herself over to me.
Because I wasn’t supposed to have seen her sleeping. Wasn’t supposed to have held her against me as I drove her away from her home. Wasn’t supposed to have yearned for a child to relent to me, to give her all to me, to leave herself bare beneath my hungry eyes.
It seemed there was no way to explain the closeness I’d developed with Aurnia without all the rest: the desire, the lust, the obsession.
Rian had called my attention toward Aurnia a “near constant eye”, but he didn’t know that it was the eye of a monster who watched the little girl who’d stumbled into the wrong tattoo parlour. I watched Aurnia because I wanted her. If there was a “near constant eye”, it was the “near constant eye” of a predator. The “near constant eye” of—
“The camera,” I said suddenly after a silence that was too long, too suspicious. “The camera!”
We’d been so used to not having one at Dublin Ink that the moment I put it up to deter Aurnia from stealing anything further, I, and apparently Mason and Rian too, had promptly forgotten about it. But it had been there the whole time. With any luck it had been recording.
Mason and Rian stood stooped over behind me as I booted up the old computer at the back of the parlour. It was too slow to do much of anything on, which was why we wrote out receipts and such. The old piece of shite seemed to take extra time to bring up the app that came with the security camera. Neither Mason nor Rian believed that it could have been anyone but Aurnia. I alone believed it had to have been anyone but her.
It was a rather reckless belief. But it was unwavering. It left the question: if not Aurnia, then who?
We weren’t exactly diligent with locking the front door. Anyone off the street could have wandered in if one of us left the living room unguarded for any amount of time. I began to fast forward through the footage looking for a stranger to come walking through the unlocked door at the front of the house. I wasn’t at all ready to see someone I knew. Someone from a long time ago. Someone who I hoped never to see again.
Nick coming inside Dublin Ink was the worst kind of invasion I could imagine. But it only got worse from there. Mason and Rian both sucked in their breaths when Aurnia fled to the wall from him. I didn’t have any air left in my lungs to gasp at.
I watched in horror as he walked his fingers over my things. It made my skin fucking crawl. Still it was nothing compared to the disgust I felt when he spoke to Aurnia. When he grinned at her like he knew her. My disgust turned to blood-boiling rage when I saw how frightened she was.
She knew Nick as well. That was the only reason for her to have such terror on her face. The sight of a rabid dog is frightening. But not nearly as much as the mark of his teeth on your leg and the knowledge of the disease spreading through your veins.
It didn’t matter to me that he stole from the cash register. He could take all the money in the world for all I cared. What I cared about was Aurnia sliding to the floor. She alone, huddled and afraid, was all I had eyes for.
“Who was that?” Mason asked.
I couldn’t remember a time I heard fear in Mason’s voice before. But it was there now.
“Who the fuck was that?” Rian repeated, his own voice shaking.
But those were the wrong questions. The right question was this and this alone: where was Aurnia?
