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If it weren’t for our constant pathetic lack of privacy on the tour bus, my mark would be inside of her too. I want her in every way, fucking crave it. I’m going out of my mind without it. But I’m used to holding back with her. Waiting to get her alone long enough to give light to our twisted desires will be worth it. I plan on being excruciatingly thorough when the time comes. It’s not plausible to risk being caught simply because it’s tiring to wait.
The chime above the shop’s entrance alerts us to someone walking inside. Tara—the artist who finally told me her name before sticking a needle in my face—turns off the tattoo gun and swivels to look past my body at the door. I follow her stare, my muscles tightening.
“We’re not open for walk-ins right now,” she tells the man that lingers in the entryway.
He’s tall, with a long, thick beard that probably smells like shit, considering his dirty clothes and oily, greying brown hair. The black hoodie hugging his torso in an uncomfortable way is so stained that it looks acid-washed, and his jeans are torn at the knees, but not in the way mine are. His hands are in the front pocket of his sweatshirt, and something dark flares inside of me, urging me closer to Tinsley.
Tara eyes the stranger with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. “If you want to get a tattoo, you should call the shop first. We book up really fast.”
Unless your name is Tinsley Lowry. Then, you can get a spot whenever you please.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man mutters. His voice turns my blood to ice.
My golden girl must sense the change in my demeanour because she curls her fingers over the ones I’ve been using to stroke her knee and squeezes. I want to look at her and reassure her but can’t tear my gaze from the man. There’s something familiar about him. Something that unsettles me. That feeling only expands, growing teeth when his odd-coloured blue eyes dart to Tinsley and remain there for longer than necessary. The familiarity of that stare has a snarl slipping from my lips.
It’s the guy that scratched her outside of the club in Vancouver. The one whose eyes gave him away that night as they bored intomyTinsley. The reminder of him sends me spiralling.
I can’t ignore the nagging bite in my chest that tells me he’s not meant to be here. That he’s a threat to her. With everything going on with this sick fucking stalker, I can’t risk him getting anywhere close to her. Fire grows in my gut as I work to paint a clear picture in my mind.
I’m off my stool and halfway across the shop before I realize I’ve moved. It’s more than aching to seek retribution for the marks he left on Tinsley that has me accepting the siren call of my shadows. It’s everything coming together in a messy, desperate conclusion. He shouldn’t be here. Utah is a far trip from Vancouver. Was he in Vegas, too? Seattle?
What he lacks in smarts, he makes up in speed. He’s out the door before I reach him. Tinsley calls my name and tells me to wait, but I’m already following him outside. It’s dark out, but the sun hasn’t fully dipped yet. I pause outside the shop and look left, then right, unsure which way he went. It’s the angry curses shouted by a woman on my right that have me pushing in that direction.
My boots are heavy, too heavy to give me the speed I need to catch him. Curling my fingers into my palms, I push myself harder. I run through the gap of people on the walkway and find a woman adjusting herself a few feet away, as if she were just bumped into by my dead man. I rush past her and grit my jaw, catching a black hood a few feet ahead. They’re moving too quickly to be on a casual walk, so I follow them. I’m unfamiliar with this city. I don’t have a single fucking idea where I’m going. None of it matters.
I follow the hooded man until he runs across the street and slips into a crowd of people exiting the subway. I slow my steps and shove a hand through my hair. There are too many people to find him in the mass of bodies.
The prickle on my skin from someone watching me turns my frustration into blistering rage. He’s close, and I can’t fucking see him. I need to know if he’s the one behind all of this. Need to fix it if he is. Keep her safe. The world spins beneath me. Warmth fills my palms. I’m bleeding. Cut myself with my own nails. The pain doesn’t soothe me.
“Noah! Jesus Christ, Noah!”
I snap my head in the direction of her voice. She can’t be here. Not when I can’t see him. Hands brush my back, and I spin, lip curled back in warning. I find her. My eyes fall shut, the fire in my lungs extinguishing.Breathe.
“You can’t just take off like that, you dick bag!” she scolds, clutching desperately at my body. I focus on her touch. “Who was that guy? Do you know him?”
I shake my head. Words won’t form on my tongue.
“You left your phone in the shop. I thought you might have gotten lost and then trampled by fans or something.”
I don’t speak. Instead, I tug her into my arms and hold her too tight. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, but I can’t tell her. Not yet.
We’ve never had secrets, but today, I keep one that could destroy everything.
34
TINSLEY
Noah lingersnear the hotel room door, fiddling with all the locks as I wander inside. He’s keyed up, so much anger brimming beneath his skin. The inside of my cheek is raw from gnawing on it the entire Uber ride home. This isn’t how I planned tonight to go, but I refuse to let this ruin my plans.
I ghost my fingers over the ink on my face and wonder how different my past twenty-five years would have been if I had the same nerve I do now. I got two tattoos today. On. My. Face! They’re small and delicate, but they’re still tattoos.I’m a certified badass now. And despite what happened afterward, I will acknowledge that fact.
My dad is going to lose his shit when he sees my face tomorrow. It’s probably fucked up for me to be excited to witness that impending meltdown, but as a near perfectly behaved child growing up, it’s been a long time coming.
I roll my lips and trace the room with tired eyes. I’ve never stayed somewhere so fancy. When Garrison told us this morning that Reggie insisted we be put up in a hotel this time, I half expected the jackass to find the worst room possible out of spite. This is definitely not the worst. The bed is massive and thick with a heavy comforter. There’s a fully stocked bar and a bathroom fit with a soaker tub and a glass shower that could probably fit an entire football team. It’s a taste of what the future holds for the both of us if we manage to survive everything that’s happening right now.
“Are you going to be dark and twisty all night?” I ask, moving to the tall windows. The curtains are open, welcoming the moonlight into the room. Neither one of us bothers to turn the light on.
I don’t hear him closing in on me, yet the feel of his hands cupping my shoulders doesn’t shock me. With a soft exhale, I lean back into his touch.
