“Can you stop shaking your foot?”
I blinked. My body tensed as I realized that he was right. I had been shaking my foot.
Fuck. What am I doing?
This is wrong.
I’m supposed to be clean. Not getting a fucking high from pain.
Fuck!
“Stop.”
Cole immediately raised both his hands, sitting up to look at me.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes studied me and fear made my lungs constrict.
Could he see it?
Could he tell that I was a fucking junkie for pain?
That I needed more so fucking badly I was contemplating stealing his knife to cut myself?
“I need to stop.”
“O-okay,” he nodded, turning off the gun.
I was sweating, hands clammy and I cracked my knuckles, controlling the urge to actually steal the knife a foot away from me.
“You bring any water or food? You look a little…woozy.”
I removed my eyes from the knife and shook my head.
“Fuck, I…”Just fucking say the words, you weak puta!“I’m sorry about this. I need to stop today. Can we be done?Right now?”
“Of course,” he said, brows furrowed with confusion as he placed the tattoo gun on his tray and picked up a spray bottle and paper towels.
It burned and my breath hitched as he wiped over the skin. He fanned the tattoo with his gloved hand and his eyes flicked up to meet my stare.
“Is it about my crush confession? Because I swear it doesn’t change anything between us. We’re friends and I’d never ruin that or do something stupid to jeopardize your trust. Hell, I’ve barely just earned it in last nine months.”
I shook my head, “No. We’re good. I just…I just need to stop.”
I eyed the half-finished outline of the bird and cageand winced.
Fuck, it looks bad. How the fuck do I just leave that on my skin and not finish it?
“Okay,” he mumbled. “I’ll just wrap it with some cling film in case you want to come back tomorrow or something. Are you good to ride your bike right now? You’re kinda freaking me out a little bit.”
“I’m fine.”
He narrowed his eyes, hands pausing midair as he wrapped my arm. He sighed, tearing the plastic wrap off and securing it in place.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, eyes on the ground as he rolled away.
My stomach twisted with guilt.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Seriously. This is all me. I’m just…not feeling well. I need to go home.”
