Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(70)

In ink and blood, images and words on the skin.

It seemed like an act of rebellion to some, or a trend of the times.

Keelie had thought maybe some of the poison she had in her soul had wept out of her with each small bit of blood. Maybe that was why she’d gotten so many the first few years. Purging herself of the poison.

She’d purged herself of some of the poison, found a way to sleep at night. Maybe she could help others. That was when she knew.

Clearing her throat, she continued. “I asked the guy who was doing mine about how to get started in it, what all was involved.

“Anyway, it turned out I had a knack for it. I learn fast, I can come up with my own designs. I’d been working at another shop in Texas for about a year, then started with Zach a few years ago. And let me tell you, it’s a lot better than waiting tables.”

Before he could ask anything more, she asked a question of her own. “So why’d you join the army?”

He was still talking twenty minutes later when she finished up his piece.

She heard every word, but she doubted she could recall any of it.

If the aftercare wasn’t so drilled into her head, she might have forgotten what to tell him. Walking him out front, she made sure to give him the information she knew he’d heard a dozen times, easy.

Now, she could get out of—

“Zane.”

He sat behind the counter, eyes half-closed, but at the sound of her voice, he came to his feet in a smooth, liquid movement.

“Ahhh . . .” She looked from him to the client and then shot Zane a look. Hopefully he could figure out what it meant: Not right now.

Even though instead of the alone time she’d been hoping for just seconds ago, she had a different plan in mind now. One that involved him, her, and lots of hard, sweaty sex. That would give her something to think about—something besides memories she didn’t want inside of her.

“Okay, Myke, if you don’t have any questions, that’s it. Be sure to keep up with the aftercare, okay?” She stared at the man in front of her, instead of the one who watched her from behind the counter.

Myke nodded and held out a few bills. She went to pull out the change and he waved it back. “Keep it.”

It was too big of a tip, but she wasn’t going to argue. It ought to go to Javi anyway. “Take care of yourself in Iraq.”

He was gone a moment later and she clung to the counter for a long moment before turning to look at Zane.

It was oddly quiet in the front area.

Looking around, she didn’t see Anais or Zach or Rusty.

Just Zane. Watching her with those calm eyes. It was like staring into the endless waves of the ocean, she thought. He could outwait her and was fully prepared to do it. There was a patience to his gaze, like he knew something was wrong, like he knew she hid something—

Something lodged in her throat. That caged, bubbly tension inside her tried to break out. Spinning away, she went to edge out from behind the counter.

“Hey. Ah, I’m sorry about last night.”

He didn’t say anything, just moved closer, with that eerie, easy grace.

Her heart hitched a little.

“Okay. So. What brings you here?” she asked, keeping her voice calm, light. Casual, even. She could do this. She could fake it. Fake it until you make it.

He stopped in front of her, rested his hands on her waist.

She tensed.

“What’s happened?” he asked quietly.

Closing her eyes, Keelie tensed her jaw. Then she had to relax it before she could even force the words out. Force the lie out. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, angel,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Something’s hurt you. What is it?”

Curling her hands into fists, she tried not to break. There was a trembling that had started deep, deep inside and if it reached the surface . . . “Let me go,” she whispered, and her voice shook. “I can’t . . . I can’t do this here.”

“Then we’ll leave.”

So simple, so easy.

She pulled, half-heartedly, against him as he closed one hand over hers and went to lead her away.

But then she looked up at him.

He met her gaze, his blue green eyes steady behind his glasses, his mouth unsmiling.

She knew, without a doubt, if she reached for him, he’d come.

She knew, without a doubt, if she started to cry, he’d hold her. Those solid, square shoulders seemed to be made for it.

But what would he do if she told him? Would he look away, disappointed in her?

Would he learn about the deception she’d lived the past few years and see her in a different light?

“Stop thinking so hard,” he murmured, closing the distance between them and reaching up to cup her cheek. “Let’s just get out of here for now. You and me.”

You and me.

She and Zane. It was the sweetest thing she could think of just then. Just her, just him.

Slowly, she nodded, and this time, as he went to lead her out of the room, she didn’t resist.


*

Zane thought about taking her home.

But his gut told him that whatever had made her miserable waited for her there.

He thought about taking her to the loft and tucking her into bed. She looked like she’d slept as much as he had and even though the sun still burned high in the sky, she probably needed a good eight hours of sleep. But he saw nightmares and tears and misery in her eyes. If she tried to sleep now, all of that would follow her.