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But there was damage within me; a dark stain hiding under my brazen veneer that I was terrified to show. Asher was lightness and hope and all things good. He had a family who loved him and were proud to have him in their ranks.
As I watched the streets of Glendale roll by, I found myself wondering what he would say if he ever learned that my own family couldn’t stand the sight of me. Would he suddenly see me as the disappointment they always insisted I was?
And would I be able to bear it if, when he finally saw me for who I really was, he decided to walk away like all the rest?
My morose thoughts were interrupted by Asher cutting the engine of the truck.
“You awake over there, Betty?” he asked, giving my thigh another light squeeze as I shook my head and looked around.
Sure enough, we were parked on the street in front of our buildings, the interior of our respective shops dark at the late hour.
“Yeah,” I muttered, blinking the incriminating moisture out of my eyes. “I’m awake. Don’t worry about me.”
“Good.” With a gentle pat to the inside of my leg, Asher opened his door and exited the truck.
I missed his touch immediately.
“Get moving, then,” he called in through the open door of the truck. “I believe you were gonna show me a sign.”
Of course! My decal.
Throwing off my seat belt, I flung open my own door, a giddy excitement filling me as I leapt to the sidewalk and turned to face my shop.
And there it was.
Belladonna Tattoo.
The words were shadowed in the dark, the dim glow of the streetlights turning what I knew were letters tinted so deeply purple they appeared nearly black. To one side, a cluster of leaves sat, dotted with the lavender flowers and the dark berries of my cherished plant. The logo was exactly as I’d hoped it would be, boldly announcing to the world that this place, this shop and all it contained, was mine.
Emotion zinged through my veins, my feelings at seeing my dream of having my very own tattoo shop finally becoming a reality almost too much to contain as I let my eyes roam over the shop logo again and again.
“Looks fantastic, Ricki,” Asher said from behind me, so close I could feel the heat from his body seeping through the fabric of my hoodie. Wrapping one hand around my back to rest on my hip, he added, “Couldn’t have asked for a better neighbor.”
I smiled, about to say something I was sure would have been both witty and intelligent, but my words cut off as my eyes finished adjusting to the low light, allowing me to see that there was something wrong with the decal on my shop window.
At first glance, it looked correct, the design and size exactly how I had imagined it when I’d spent the afternoon in Gordie’s shop. But now that my initial frenzy of enthusiasm had passed, I noticed something else on the window—something that most definitely did not belong.
Taking a slow step forward, I narrowed my eyes, letting myself really focus on the image before me, finally realizing that there were streaks of something smeared on the glass. Ugly brown smudges that marred the perfection of the beautiful logo I’d designed, tainting it in a way that was very quickly turning my stomach.
“Uh, Ricki?” Asher asked, his voice hesitant. “Is that....”
He didn’t finish the question, but that was because he didn’t have to. It was more than obvious what we were both seeing.
And as I closed the final distance to the window, my hands fisting at my sides, I could feel the anger building in my stomach, an ember of white-hot rage that I struggled to contain.
“Yeah, Asher. It is,” I answered, my voice even and cold, despite the fury boiling within me. “It’s blood.”
Chapter twenty-one
Asher
“Whatthefuck?”
I stared at the window, my brain taking too long to really register the sight before me. Because, while I could clearly see that the window—and therefore Ricki’s stunning new logo—was smeared with blood, I couldn’t seem to make myself actually accept it.
Because it was complete and utter bullshit.
“You think this was him? That same guy?”
