Page 16 of Ink

Either Ink didn’t hear him or he’s choosing not to acknowledge him because his intense stare hasn’t left me. Gosh, his blue eyes feel like they can see into my soul as they sear me on the spot. Can he see how broken I am?

Once again, though, Ink’s right. My dad would lose his ever-loving mind if he found out I’m working in a tattoo shop. He’s also part of the reason I’m in the situation that I’m in. It’s just not for the reason Ink thinks. Ink doesn’t have a right to that information, though, so I’m not giving it up. I can tell he’s the type of man that’s used to getting his way. He can stand there and accuse me of everything under the sun, but he still won’t get anything from me. That died with past Sutton. It’s taking time, but new Sutton is slowly learning to do things on her schedule and not someone else’s.

“I’m twenty-five,” I answer, sticking to my guns.

“Just a baby,” he whispers, his tone taking on a sinister edge. “So, why are you movin’?”

Why isn’t he dropping this?

“I told you. I’m ready for change.”

Neither one of us says anything for a long moment. It takes everything in me to not fidget under his scrutiny. I can tell from the suspicion in his blue eyes that he doesn’t believe me. Ink’s body language and attitude do an amazing job of hiding what he doesn’t want you to see, but those baby blues reveal it all.

“Hmm,” he hums, hands on his hips.

Swallowing the lump that’s making my throat feel like it’s closing in, I brace for his continued interrogation. I’ve never been good with confrontation, especially with someone that I know flat out doesn’t like me.

“Thought you weren’t coming in today?” Gage cuts in, breaking the tense silence that has settled over the lobby.

As soon as my first check cashes, I’m buying Gage the best donuts I can find in the corner store for saving me from the wrath of grumpy Ink.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Got done with what I had to do earlier than I expected, so I figured I’d stop in and check on a few things.”

If I had grown the pair of balls I promised my new self I would grow, I’d ask him what he had to do today but I don’t. A million and one questions are always running through my mind, but none ever get asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure you just had to stop in and check on a few things.” Gage snorts.

The scowl that I’ve come to learn in my short two days of being here is Ink’s signature expression settles back into place before he’s prowling back down the hall. After a beat of Gage and I watching him go, we hear the back door that Gage said leads to the alley open and slam shut.

Uh… what was that?

A long, exasperated sigh escapes Gage. “That isn’t Ink.”

“I’m sorry?” I ask, shifting my gaze to him. I’m pretty sure we all have two eyes and just watched all of that go down.

“That shit right there? That’s not him. I don’t know what’s been goin’ on with him lately, but try not to take it to heart. The Ink that I know would be kicking himself for treating a woman like this.”

Gage sounds so sincere that I almost believe him. Maybe this is the first time he’s realizing Ink isn’t how he originally viewed him. Lots of people slowly change before your eyes without you noticing. And by the time you’re wondering what happened, you’ve already living on planet delulu. That’s a hard place to leave. I’d know.

But the only Ink I’ve seen is that one that just left.

“I’ll talk to him. You have a lot left to do?” Gage nods towards the desk.

No one has come in or called the shop in the last hour and a half, so I did everything I needed to do to in that down time. “I’m ready.”

“Cool. Let me just nab the lights, and we’ll head out.”

I stand by the back door as Gage quickly does his rounds, making sure the front door is locked, flipping light switches off as he walks by.

“Let’s roll out,” he says as he shrugs on his jacket.

The crisp night air hits my face, peppering it with little tingles before the smell of trash in the alley hits my nose.

My nose scrunches at the odor. One thing I’ve realized since moving to the city is I do not like the weird smells that randomly blast in your face. Sometimes the whiffs I get walking down the street are enough to send me to my knees as I projectile vomit all over the sidewalk.

“See ya tomorrow. Have a nice night,” I call over my shoulder as I tuck my hands in the pocket of my coat, hunching my shoulders as I pull the fabric tight against me as if that will somehow take the chill out.

“You walkin’ again?”