Full Contact (Redemption #3)(62)
“But it did.” He cups my jaw in his broad hand and tilts my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze. “And you’re not living life like it never happened because you’ve locked part of yourself away.”
“Except with you,” I whisper. “Because you make me feel safe.”
A pained expression crosses his face. “You should feel safe every f*cking day of your life. You and Tag should have justice. I got the resources to make that happen.”
Dread claws its way through my belly and I wrench myself away. “Justice isn’t going to change the past.”
“Maybe not. But it can give you a better future.”
My hand clenches into a fist against his chest. “Please, Ray. I didn’t tell you because it was a problem that needed to be fixed. I told you because I wanted you to understand why I am the way I am and why I do some of the things I do. I wanted to share my past with you but not to get you involved.”
“I am involved.” His voice tightens. “And you should know by now I’m not the kind of man to let something like this go. You’ll have justice, Sia. I promise you that.”
Chapter 17
You can’t protect me from everything
Tag is released from the hospital the next morning and decides to hide out at my apartment to avoid Mom chasing him down while he’s on sick leave. He watches TV beside me on the couch and grumbles about how he can never show his face at Redemption again. I pull out my sketch pad and start to draw.
“You doing up a stencil for someone’s tat?” He rests his feet on my glass coffee table, then lowers them when I raise an admonishing eyebrow.
“No. I just…wanted to draw.”
He nods at my dining room table, still set up with my easel and the half-finished painting from Ray’s visit. “Like you just wanted to paint?”
My cheeks burn and I shrug. “Yeah. Ray was here the other night and he opened my closet and everything fell out. He asked me to paint something for him.” My throat tightens with emotion. “It had been so long…and… Oh God, Tag, it felt so good.”
His face softens. “I’m happy for you, Sis. I missed your art. I mean, I see your tats on the guys at the gym, but it isn’t the same.”
Holding up the sketch pad, I flip through the pictures. “I started drawing too. Every spare minute.”
He looks at the pictures and laughs. “I see a common theme. Are they all of Ray fighting in the ring because he’s the one who opened the door?”
“I love watching him fight. He’s so confident in the ring. So utterly competent and in control. I used to watch him and wish I could feel like that.”
Tag’s smile broadens. “You ever want to learn to fight, just let me know. I’m your man. Starter class is called Get Fit or Die and even though you’re my sis, I’ll show you no mercy. Love that class. Love running the newbies into the ground.”
“So does that mean you’re going back to Redemption after all?”
Tag leans over and ruffles my hair. “If you’re gonna learn how to fight, I’m gonna be there.”
For a moment I feel like I’ve got my old Tag back. The lines are gone from his forehead and he hasn’t mentioned his case since he left the hospital. I lean into his shoulder and sigh. “I guess we’ve got a deal.”
*
Tuesday morning I walk into the studio with a happy smile only to discover our time in paradise is almost over.
“You missed one hell of a fight on your day off yesterday,” Rose says as she hands me my schedule. “Torment found out Slim had ordered his own supplies, and they weren’t the quality Torment wants for the shop. It got so loud that a couple of the fighters came in and pulled Torment away. Slim’s had it. He says we’re outta here at the end of the week. His shop isn’t finished, but he says it’s good enough to get things going.”
“It’s going to be hard to leave.”
“Hard?” Rose rolls her eyes. “It’ll be impossible. I’m ruined for tat studios for life.” She motions me forward with a crooked finger and then whispers in my year. “I’m gonna ask Torment to keep me on. He’ll need a receptionist who knows the business when he fills those chairs.”
My breath catches in my throat. “You can’t. We’re a team. Slim will be devastated.”
Rose shrugs. “I don’t think his heart is in the new shop or he would have pulled out all the stops to get it done. He never liked the business side. He’s too much of an artist.”
“Then why does he keep going head-to-head with Torment? This is the perfect setup for him. Torment handles the business and he handles the art.”
“Pride.” She pulls her chair up to her desk and taps on her keyboard. “It brings the best of men down.”
Before the clients arrive, Christos, Duncan, and I sit down to check out the modeling programs Torment has had installed on our new superpowered computers for the increasingly popular 3-D surrealistic tattoos. By the time we open the shop, I am so nauseated by the 3-D images of guts, muscles, and flesh that are all the rage, I am perversely grateful when Doctor Death walks in the door.
“Good morning, beautiful ladies.” He beams and Rose laughs.
“Good morning, beautiful man. To what do we owe this pleasure?”