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He made French toast and I scrolled through my phone as it sizzled. I hadn’t checked it since lunchtime the day before, and I had dozens of messages. The women we’d tattooed yesterday had posted photos on social media and tagged us in them, and all the comments I’d read were overwhelmingly positive.
“Look at this,” I said, as I passed my phone to Xavier. “Everyone is really happy with your work.”
“I’d hope so!” he said, and smiled as he read the comments. “My tattoo artist was the hunkiest blond man I’ve ever seen.” He held out my phone for Jackson to see it. “I believe this is for you?”
“The bald man is exactly my type,” Jackson read. “I’d let him do more than tattoo me, if I was allowed.”
“Is that how you felt the first time I tattooed you?” Jackson asked, and maybe it was the post-orgasmic euphoria, but I couldn’t hold back my smile.
“Maybe.” I took a bite of toast and chewed. “You’ll never know.”
Xavier must have been starving, because he’d eaten his toast impossibly fast. He finished his last huge bite and stood up, the erection in his boxers having finally subsided.
“Time to get to work.”
I popped my phone in my pocket and went back into my room to get clean clothes. I dressed quickly, then scrolled through my messages again.
I’d received dozens, but the absence of one name still bothered me. Why wasn’t Cora showing any interest in how the charity event had gone?
I called her number, and the phone rang out, her cheerful voice asking me to leave a message. Unease spread through my stomach. Cora was busy, sure, but she normally wasn’tthishard to contact.
I ignored the feeling as I brushed my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, giving my bangs extra attention to keep them down. If she was in trouble, surely she would have said something. She was a nurse, and she had a an active social life — perhaps she’d been too busy with her doctor lover to see my messages.
But by lunchtime, when she still hadn’t returned my call, the unease turned into full-blown worry.
“Everything okay?” Adrian asked, as I made a cup of coffee.
I looked up from my phone. “I’m not sure.”
The guys were fully booked all afternoon — the charity event had prompted a wave of new clients calling in to book appointments — but perhaps after they closed the shop, one of them could drive me to Cora’s house to check on her.
By four o’clock, when I still hadn’t heard from her, I called the hospital.
“Could I speak to Cora Farrel?” I asked, but when the woman on the other end of the phone tried to find her, someone else answered instead.
“She’s not here,” the man said. “Would you like to speak to someone else from her department?”
“Do you know where she is?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “Who are you again?”
I knew he’d never give me any personal information about the hospital’s staff, so I thanked him and hung up. Anxiety squeezed my chest, and now I was sure that something was wrong. Cora wasn’t the kind of person who took time off work: she went in no matter how sick or hungover she was.
It was a quality I’d admired about her, but now it triggered alarm bells.
“Can you drive me to Cora’s house?” I asked Xavier, and he looked up at me wearily. He was working on a client, a mandala design on her neck, right below her hairline.
“Not right now,” he said. “I’ll take you after work.”
After work wasn’t quick enough. Panic gnawed in my stomach, and I paced around the back room. I had to do something — what if Cora was in trouble? What if she’d fallen in the shower and cracked her head open?
Or worse… what if Nathan had hurt her?
I couldn’t just stay here and wait. I raced upstairs, grabbed my keys, and, for the first time in weeks, ran out the back door and jumped in my car. I drove as fast as I could, barely pausing at stop signs and riding my foot on the accelerator at the traffic lights.
Cora’s house looked unremarkable, and her hatchback was in the driveway. My heart thumped as I parked on the street and ran across the road, not sure what I was going to find. Hopefully, she’d slept in or lost her phone charger. But my gut told me that wasn’t the case. Something was seriously wrong here.
I still had my key, so I raced up the steps, pushed the door open, and almost ran into the person standing there.
