Fractures in Ink Page 2

  The apartment window to the left of hers remained dark, the blinds pulled shut. The space was currently unrented. Hayden’s girlfriend, Tenley, used to live there, but she’d moved into his house. Hayden had hung up his bachelor balls shortly after he met her, and they’d settled into domesticated stability. They even had a cat, which he’d named after Tee. I made fun of him often, and he didn’t give a shit.

  I doubted Tee’s old apartment would remain vacant for long, considering the prime location near DePaul University. Some student would take it over soon. I’d entertained moving there myself before me and Sarah went on the outs. It would be totally convenient for work. But now that would make things even more awkward. Besides, rent was cheap where I lived, and moving my shit would be a pain in the ass. At least those were the excuses I went with.

  I turned back to the art I was outlining, pausing before I started a new line of ink. “You need a break or anything? Water?”

  “Nah, I’m good to keep going.”

  In the four hours he’d been here I’d only stopped once. When the design was complete, it would span his entire back. Today we were finishing the basic outline and some of the minor detail. I loved working on the Celtic designs. The intricacy and the detail allowed me to get lost in the art for hours. Except not right now, because I couldn’t seem to manage my divided attention, and that was because of Sarah.

  I wasn’t sure why this was such a big deal for me. I was used to not getting what I wanted. Over the years it had been a pretty common occurrence. Anything remotely good in my life was fairly fleeting, and Sarah was a master's student in a business program. Her tuition cost more than my yearly salary, based on the research I’d done. Her starting wage after she graduated would likely be double what I made in any given year, even one as good as this.

  I’d met Sarah at The Dollhouse, back before it had been shut down. She’d only ever been a waitress there, never up on the stage or pulled into the darker side of the industry. But even serving drinks was no picnic since most of those assholes couldn’t keep their hands or their comments to themselves. It was almost as bad as getting naked and swinging from a pole.

  The Sanctuary—Sarah’s current place of employment—boasted an elite staff and a classy vibe, but its polished veneer was just that: a false face. It might’ve seemed better than The Dollhouse, but I had a feeling underneath the clean exterior was a dark and dirty interior Sarah wasn’t talking to me about.

  And it hadn’t ever been anything I’d pushed to hear. Encouraging her to talk about it had meant she might feel like asking me questions about my own history, and that wasn’t a place I’d wanted to go with her. We’d kept things pretty light, our protective walls firmly in place, which was probably why we lasted as long as we did.

  I’d always figured if there was a real issue, she’d say something. But maybe I’d been wrong about that, just like I’d been wrong about predicting the end of this thing we’d had going.

  Anyway, Sarah’s work wardrobe might currently consist of skimpy dresses, but she’d soon be trashing those for the kind of buttoned-up outfit she’d been wearing that morning two weeks ago. This was just another sign that Sarah and I were on different paths, moving in opposite directions. My uniform wasn’t going to change; I’d still be wearing jeans and a T-shirt bearing the Inked Armor logo a few years from now.

  I swiped at the ink with a damp cloth, wiping the site clean to make sure the lines were clear before I continued. “We’re getting close. Another ten and you can check it out.”

  Eric rolled his neck. He had to be stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. “Looking forward to it.”

  I glanced briefly at the girls who had relocated to couches while they filled out body-piercing paperwork. They looked like college students. One of them gave me a flirty smile, which I returned before refocusing on the ink. I was glad I was too busy to be chatted up, considering where my mind was these days.

  I hadn’t been under any illusion that what Sarah and I had was going to turn serious. Except based on the way I was dealing with her exit, it kind of had anyway. At least on my end. I’d gotten used to her nearly daily messages. I’d enjoyed the mornings I woke up with her in my bed.

  And I’d wondered what it would be like if that turned into every morning. Which was fucking stupid. Because deep down I knew I was a temporary fixture in her life. I was the second-hand sofa college students bought, trashed for a while, and later traded in for a nicer one.

  Sarah was destined to upgrade.

  The thing was, since she’d broken things off, she’d also stopped talking to some of our mutual friends. She and Lisa had been close, but Lisa said her texts and phone calls to Sarah had gone mostly unanswered over the past two weeks. I couldn’t decide whether it was Sarah feeling weird about talking to Lisa since I worked with her, or more than that. My gut told me it was the latter.

  The more I thought about it—obsessed, really—the more I questioned whether Sarah’s reason for walking was honestly her internship, or if there had been something else going on. The way it went down hadn’t sat right with me. The lack of warning was part of the problem. There’d been no awkward lead up, no signs things were about to take a shit, and I was usually pretty good at predicting when the bottom was going to fall out.

  I dipped the needle into black ink and touched up a few lines.

  I hoped Sarah’s silence would end eventually, particularly where Lisa was concerned. Just because we weren’t middle-of-the-night fucking any more didn’t mean she had to cut all ties with the people she’d gotten close to. And honestly, Lisa was just as concerned as I was about Sarah’s sudden silence.

  Lisa had once worked at The Dollhouse too, and her past experiences, combined with what had come out about the inner workings of those places during the recent trial, were good reason to worry.

  I put the finishing touches on the outline and set down my tattoo machine. “All right, man, that’s it. Wanna take a look?”

  “Fucking right.” He sat up stiffly, stretching his arms over his head. I followed him to the three-way mirror, my stomach tightening a little while I waited for his approval.

  He clapped me on the shoulder. “This is unreal. Thanks, man.”

  Hayden came over to check it out while I was dressing the tattoo and reviewing aftercare. Then we checked the dates on Eric’s next two sessions before he left happy, and probably sore.

  I still had a few minutes before my next client, so I checked my messages. There were two. Neither was from Sarah.

  These were from Candy, a chick I used to date long before Sarah and I started warming each other’s beds. I doubted it was a coincidence that she’d started messaging me this week, wanting to get together for a drink.

  It was pretty clear she had ulterior motives, so I’d put her off, saying I was busy, but her persistence was wearing me down—though not because I wanted, or needed, a hook up. I didn’t. And especially not with her. Still, over the past few days, Candy’s messages had grown progressively more insistent. Her most recent informed me that she had some information I might want. It was hard not to wonder who or what it pertained to.

  Things with Candy hadn’t ended well. I’d met her while she was working at The Dollhouse, and she’d been in the same position as Sarah and Lisa—just serving drinks, not getting up on stage. But the slope was slippery, and Candy found the money to be a lot better when she was taking her clothes off and grinding on the pole.

  Then she started hitting the back rooms after sets for private dances. It didn’t take long to turn into fucking. Between that and the drugs I’d been working hard to stay away from, I couldn’t deal, so I bailed.

  Normally I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of seeing her, for all of the previously mentioned reasons—but Candy now worked at The Sanctuary with Sarah. I could only guess what the information might be, and that was driving me crazy. Since I wasn’t going to get anything out of Sarah directly, it might not hurt to go in through the back do
or.

  Candy had been pissed when I started seeing Sarah, to the point that she’d made life miserable for her at the club—although Sarah had downplayed it, as she was prone to doing. I suspected that if I agreed to see Candy, she’d rub it in Sarah’s face. It wasn’t the nicest way to go about things, and I wasn’t one to play games, but any reaction right now was better than no reaction at all. If I could piss Sarah off enough, maybe she’d talk to me. Shady and shitty, but I needed some answers, and I wanted to make sure she was okay.

  I needed to keep tabs on her until she was out of that place for good. We might not be meant for the long haul, but I didn’t want her pulled down into a lifestyle that could turn her into another Candy.

  I stared at Candy’s messages for a few more seconds before I hit her back. Once I did, my phone beeped right away, asking if tomorrow would work. Before I replied, I scrolled through my messages from Sarah. Or mostly my messages to Sarah, because the last one I’d gotten from her was the night before she broke it off, telling me how she couldn’t wait to fight me for sheets.

  I typed out a message to Candy and hit send. Her reply was the kind I used to like getting from Sarah, with all the heart and smiley face emoticons. I had a hard time believing Candy’s was sincere, though.

  Lisa’s arm came around my shoulder, her lavender hair tickling my cheek. Lisa was small, narrow lines filled out by Alice in Wonderland dresses and combat boots. Her hair was always some pale rainbow shade. “Your next appointment’s in fifteen. You need to set up.”

  She snatched my phone before I could shut it down and jumped out of reach when I grabbed for it.

  “What’re you doing?” I snapped.

  “What am I doing? What’re you doing?” She held up my phone, pointing to the contact. “We need to talk.”

  “I gotta set up.”

  Lisa dug her nails into my arm and pulled me out of my chair. I could’ve argued, but then I’d draw more attention our way. Hayden or Jamie—the other artist in the shop and Lisa’s fiancé—might notice and want to know what was going on. Neither would approve of me spending time with Candy.

  I followed her to the storage room. She pushed me inside and closed the door. “Seriously, Chris? Candy?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “So you’re not going for coffee tomorrow morning. I read that wrong?” Lisa knew Candy only too well, having worked with her and been around us when Candy and I were dating.

  “I’m trying to get information. Sarah won’t talk to me.”

  “There are better ways to do that than through Candy.”

  “Really? ’Cause I’m all outta options right now.”

  “Just call her.”

  I slapped my own forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Lisa gave me one of her looks.

  “I’ve even left messages. She won’t respond. The only thing I haven’t done is go to her work, and that’s not happening, ’cause I’m not real interested in revisiting my juvie days, and I have a feeling that’s what’s going down if I go there.”

  “And you think Candy’s going to tell you what’s going on? When Sarah finds out she’s going to freak.”

  I moved the rolls of paper towels so they were lined up straight. Usually that was Hayden’s habit, but I needed to do something with my hands.

  “Enough that she’ll talk to me?”

  “That’s your motivation? Push Sarah’s buttons? That could backfire on you pretty bad.”

  “Candy says she has information I might want.”

  “Candy’s a manipulative bitch.”

  “I know, but something’s not right.”

  “You don’t think Sarah’s dancing, do you?”

  “I don’t fucking know. It’s a logical conclusion, isn’t it? One second she’s all excited about a sleepover, comes over and rides me like I’m a goddamn theme park, and the next morning she tells me we can’t see each other any more. Then she pretty much stops talking to all of us.”

  Lisa fiddled with the piercing above her lip. “I invited her to hang out with me and Tenley later this week.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jesus. I hated how pissed off I sounded. “Wait. Let me guess; she didn’t want me to know.”

  “Honestly, I called her last night and managed to get her on the phone. I seriously didn’t think she was going to say yes, but she did. I’m crossing my fingers she doesn’t bail.” She put a hand on my forearm. “I won’t hide things from you. If she shares something I think you need to know, I’ll tell you, even if it’s something you won’t want to hear.”

  I tapped the space between my eyes. I was gonna have one hell of a headache by the end of the day. “If she’s on the pole, it’s a good thing she ended things, ’cause I’m not going down that road again.”

  “But you’ll go out for coffee with Candy?”

  “It’s not the same. I’m only seeing her to get information.” I changed the subject. My relationship with Candy wasn’t a favorite topic, and I wanted details from Lisa. “What are you doing with Sarah?”

  “We’re getting together with Tenley. Girl’s night kind of thing. It took a lot of persuading to get her to agree. She feels awkward.”

  “She said that?”

  “Not in so many words.”

  “Right.” It felt like a kick in the balls that Sarah would make time for Tee and Lisa, but when it came to quitting me, she’d delivered a one-paragraph monologue, and then cut out.

  My phone buzzed again with another message from Candy. She wanted me to pick her up in the morning. I let her know I’d meet her there since I had a few errands to run. I knew how Candy worked. If I came to get her, she’d want me to come up to her apartment, and that would lead to situations I wasn’t interested in entertaining.

  I didn’t think I was at risk of getting involved with her again, but sometimes the head on my shoulders didn’t work all that well. I’d give myself all the help I could.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Chris

  The next morning I met Candy at a diner a few blocks from my apartment. I was late, having debated canceling. I’d tried messaging Sarah last night, to see if she would respond, but as usual, I got nothing.

  Candy was already sitting at a table for two in the back of the dingy diner. She held a coffee cup with a chip in the handle and smiled when she saw me. She stood, revealing a pair of old jeans and a tight, worn top. She’d rounded out the look with stripper heels. I guess to dress it up. She looked a lot like her outfit—older, worn out. I wondered if she saw the same when she looked at me.

  “Hey. I’m so glad this worked.” Her smile was warm but strained as she wrapped her arms around my waist.

  I was over six feet, and she was maybe five-five, so the top of her head barely brushed my chin, even with the heels.

  She was thin, maybe a little thinner than I remembered, or maybe I’d just been used to Sarah’s longer, willowy frame. Candy smelled like stale cigarettes and perfume. She clearly hadn’t given up her vices.

  “It’s good to see you,” I said, sort of meaning it as I slid into the chair across from her.

  “You look great.” Her smile was almost shy.

  I didn’t buy it. Her job was acting. She’d never been shy with me. Coy? Sure. Devious? Definitely. But not shy.

  Sarah, on the other hand, could pull off shy and mean it. She’d been full of angry fire when I’d first asked her out, basically telling me to fuck off. When she’d finally agreed, she’d been this sweet, sexy, shy girl who wore jeans and oversized shirts, and insisted we go to a juice bar because, as she’d told me, there was no way she was drinking alcohol with me.

  I hadn’t argued, just glad she’d finally agreed to a date. And I’d been hooked after one evening. Which was exactly why I now sat here, across from a woman who had never understood why I wasn’t okay with her screwing other guys for money when she was supposed to be with me.

  “You look good, too
,” I finally said, realizing I hadn’t responded to her compliment.

  Now that I was sitting down and could have a closer look, she didn’t look good at all. Her blond hair had been bleached until it was almost white, like Sarah’s, though Sarah’s was naturally pale. Candy had also added extensions, but they weren’t quite the same color, so it was obvious the longer hair wasn’t hers. Dark liner accentuated the circles under her eyes.

  I flipped over my coffee mug as the waitress came by. She filled it and topped off Candy’s.

  “You hungry?” she asked. “Want something to eat?”

  Candy shook her head, eyeing the waitress who was eyeing me.

  “You sure? I’m gonna eat something.” I looked to the waitress. “You got any specials?”

  She listed a few options, including an omelet and eggs Benedict. I doubted the eggs Benny here would be any good, so I opted for bacon and eggs. Candy ordered the same with little persuasion.

  Sitting across from her brought back all my memories of The Dollhouse and the people who came with it. She’d been a witness at the trial, but her testimony hadn’t carried much weight, considering all the narcotics she’d tested positive for. I wasn’t sure she’d been able to give those up, judging from the look of her.

  I started with basic conversation to fill the silence. “How’s work?”

  “Same old, same old, just with a different club and a different stage.” She dumped two packets of sugar into her cup. “How ’bout you?”

  “Keeping busy.”

  “I heard Inked Armor is doing real good. I should come in and get some work done or something.”

  “We’re making appointments for a few months out now. The summer is pretty much booked solid.”

  “Wow. That’s good. That’s great.”

  “You doing okay these days? Outside of work?” I asked.

  Candy shrugged. “Sure. I moved a few months back. Got an apartment without a roommate.”

  “That’s good.” Fuck. This was painful.

  “Yeah. You remember Trina, right?”