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"I don't know. I just need to get away from you."
I reach for her arms, but she ducks away from me, so I raise my hands in surrender. “Please let me explain. Let's go get a beer. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, and if it means you run, at least I know I was honest. But trying to protect you from my darkness is only hurting you."
She holds my gaze for a long moment, then gives me a curt nod and starts off toward the nearest campground bar. Even the most minor connections make me feel safe when I'm with her, so I place my palm on the small of her back, thrilled when she doesn’t shrug away from my touch.
We grab our drinks and find an empty table in the back corner of the crowded bar.
"Before we start, I just need to know if I'm the other woman. I've been hurt by a liar once before, and I don't think I'm strong enough to handle it again."
"You are not. You overheard Jacob and me talking about something I've been trying to figure out for the last three months."
"So, there is someone else?” she whispers.
"No. Kind of. I honestly don't know."
"I hoped you were different." Andrea shakes her head and starts to get up to leave.
Grabbing her arm, I beg, "Andrea, please. You are the first person I've let into my life since the shooting. Everyone else only knows what they've seen in the news."
"Shooting?" Her eyes widen, then soften with concern as she sits back down and waits for me to continue.
"I've gone by Rome, a shortened version of my middle name—Roman—for as long as I can remember. I built my reputation as one of the industry's best old-school tattoo artists. My dream was to build an empire of tattoo studios with my name on them, and I was on my way to doing it. About seven years ago, when things were finally taking off, I interviewed a new artist for my shop. Bailey Hollis was a young, vibrant artist looking to make a name for herself in the game, as we all were. We became close within just a few months of her working for me. She was my ride-or-die chick of the shop." I nervously pick at the label on my beer bottle.
"Were you two in a relationship?" she asks.
"No. Bailey had a long-term boyfriend whom she had been with for years. The guy was bad news; in and out of jail, drugs, gambling. You name it, and this guy was into it. I told her all the time she needed to get rid of him before something bad happened to her, but she'd tell me she loved him and that she could handle it." I down the rest of my drink and flag the bartender for another round.
"Did something bad happen?" Andrea’s eyes soften from anger to concern.
"It did. He beat Bailey up pretty bad after a fight over her working a night he wanted to go out to a club. She ended up on my doorstep with a broken nose, bruised ribs, and chunks missing from her hair. She stayed with me for the next few weeks after her boyfriend returned to jail. We holed up in my apartment, watching old episodes ofTattoo Geniusfor hours. It was Bailey who convinced me to try out for the show.” I shake my head as the memories rush back. “She got back together with him when I was taping for two months."
Andrea makes atskof disapproval. " After everything you did for her?"
"Yup. Then the show started airing, and it was edited to make it look like I was winning even though I was still pining for a woman back home. Of course, this pissed her boyfriend off something horrible. But rather than confronting me, he beat the shit out of her again. This time he put Bailey in the hospital, and her piece of shit boyfriend went to jail where he belongs."
"I still don't understand how this makes her your maybe girlfriend. Where is she now? Why don't you just ask her?"
"I'm getting there. When I knew her boyfriend was finally out of the picture, I did ask her out. I've always liked Bailey, and I thought it was time for her to see how a real man should treat a woman. Surprisingly, she said yes. We went to dinner and a movie. We shared one kiss when I dropped her off at her friend's place. There was just no chemistry between us. To be honest, it was like kissing my little sister.” I finish my beer in one swig. “A few days later, we were at the shop, and she said we needed to talk and asked me to go to dinner. Bailey went to the restroom to clean up while I was finishing my last client. Ninety seconds later, two guys in black ski masks storm the shop, guns drawn, demanding my twenty-five thousand prize money. Bailey hears the commotion, comes out of the restroom, startles the gunman, and he shoots her.”
"Holy shit, Daniel. I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Where was Bailey shot? Were you or your client hurt?" Andrea covers my hands with hers making me safe opening up to her.
My head hangs with shame. Tears burn my eyes, but I try to fight them back. "She was shot in the shoulder. The force knocked her backwards, and when she fell, she hit her head on the sink, then on the concrete floor." My words get caught in my tears. "I should have protected her. It was my job to keep everyone in my shop safe, but I froze."
"It's not your fault. The burden you feel must be immense, but the blame needs to go to the person who pulled the trigger."
"If I hadn't gone onTattoo Genius, I would have never won the money, and they would have never come to rob me. As of now, my best friend has been in a coma for three months. She's unable to laugh, smile, or fall in love. The sense of guilt I carry because I can do these things, and she can't, is unbearable at times. Why should I get to keep doing these things when all she can do is lay there asleep?"
"Thank you," she says softly, bringing my hands to her lips and kissing my thumbs.
"For what?"
"Your honesty. For sharing your story with me. For trusting me enough to open up and be vulnerable. I'm not going anywhere. I think you are someone worth waiting for."
Chapter Nineteen
Andrea
Madison ate and swiftly went back to sleep. I watch her now, my mood flip-flopping between sympathetic, pissed off, disappointed, and sad—all of which are exhausting. Kids make mistakes; I know this. But her mistake could have cost her so much. Men like Lucky don’t care who they hurt or how—
