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The other man laughed. “If you weren’t so good at them, people wouldn’t keep asking for them.”
Dax ran a tattooed hand through his light-brown hair. It was on the long side, probably just enough to scrape into a rubber band if he’d wanted to. “Yeah, yeah. Sucks to be talented, right?” He peered at me. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Them’s dangerous words. Especially for a first-timer.”
“Not my first time.”
Dax squinted at me. “No? I just assumed tats don’t fly with the church…”
I pressed my tongue to the side of my mouth and then decided it was easier to just show him. I pulled my long-sleeved shirt over my head, letting Dax and his friend see the work I’d already had done.
“Whoa.” Dax stepped forward and then around me in a circle. “Who knew a priest was hiding all of this artwork beneath his robes?”
“No one,” I admitted. “At least not all of it. Sometimes this one is hard to hide.” I pointed to the bottom of my tattoo sleeve that had one image so low it snaked below my wristwatch.
Dax took my wrist in his hands and turned my arm over. “This is some nice work. Who did it?”
“Whoever owned the place about ten years back…I don’t see him here…”
“Ah, no. That would be Chris. I bought him out not long after. I should have recognized his work. It’s impressive.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. Thank you didn’t seem right, since all I’d done was lie there while the artist had done his thing.
But Dax didn’t seem to mind my silence. He was impressed enough with my existing tattoos that he slapped an empty padded bench. “Go on then. Get up here. I’ve got something sketched up that you might like.”
I did as instructed, breathing a sigh of relief when the needle pierced my skin and a sharp throb of pain cleared my head.
22
LYRIC
Iwas proud of myself for biting my tongue when Kat and Lleyton came to pick Amelia up for their weekend with her. I let them walk away, ignoring how much they portrayed the perfect nuclear family with Amelia between them, holding both their hands.
With Gran still in the hospital, and staying there for the foreseeable future, too frail to come home, my apartment was quiet. I’d taken Amelia to visit her that morning, and she was doing a lot better than the last time I’d seen her. But even still, her tiny body tucked up in a hospital bed had hurt my heart.
As much work as it was to care for an elderly relative, she belonged here with me. There was no doubt about that in my mind. For as long as I could care for her, she’d have a home here.
I spent the day cleaning out her bedroom, wiping down every surface, changing her sheets, and throwing out trash that had collected. When I was done there, I continued with my and Amelia’s room. Anything to keep myself busy. If I had nothing to do, I would dwell on either my gran’s well-being, Fawn’s whereabouts, or how I’d screwed up Amelia’s interview at Edgely Academy.
Mom guilt ate away at me over the latter, reminding me I’d probably ruined her chances there. I couldn’t get the principal’s expression off my mind…the way she’d looked at me when I had managed to open my mouth. We’d heard nothing since, though Katherine had unhelpfully fretted to us that one of her friends had gotten her child’s acceptance letter two days ago. I’d tried calling the school a couple of times during the week, hoping to catch Principal Williams so I could explain myself, but she was never available and didn’t return my calls. I was one-hundred-percent certain I was the reason we hadn’t received an acceptance letter. Lleyton was a past student, with parents who gave money to the school. Katherine was the put together, well-educated stepmom. The problem certainly wasn’t Amelia, who was perfect.
I tried calling again, despite it being a weekend, but unsurprisingly, got the school voicemail. By the time I needed to get ready for work that night, the apartment sparkled and smelled of lemon disinfectant.
Disinfectant and crushed dreams.
“Shower,” I said to the empty apartment, knowing I couldn’t rock up at work as sweaty and gross as I was right now. “Stat.”
I stripped off, humming something tunelessly beneath my breath. I checked out my reflection in the bathroom mirror and, remembering my promise to Zeph to take care of myself, I scrubbed my face with a cleanser I normally didn’t bother with because—why be fancy when soap and water would do?
I was naked, cream smeared across my cheeks, and testing the water temperature when the room suddenly went dark.
“Ugh, no. Not now.” The wiring in my apartment building was dodgy at best. A complete safety hazard at worst. It had a habit of fritzing out at the most inconvenient times. I cracked open the frosted-glass window, just enough to peer out, and groaned again. Okay, clearly not just the building. I couldn’t see a single light on all the way down the street. “Shit.”
I switched the faucet on and waited for the water to run warm. With the window cracked, I had barely enough moonlight to see.
The water never got warm. “Of course,” I muttered. “Of course the fucking hot water system runs on electricity.” I still had cream all over my face. The scent of disinfectant still clung to my skin, and I needed to get to work. I dove beneath the cold water with a shriek and scrubbed myself clean.
