The Purest Hook (Second Circle Tattoos #3)(54)

It was Saturday, and she and Lia were both on the later shift, so they’d planned to visit their favorite vintage store. Pixie was looking for some specific fabric for a dress she was making, but first she had to visit the bank.

“What are you smiling about over there?” Lia asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.

Pixie showed her the photo of her in her coat, and Lia laughed.

“Your rock star should fly you to Brazil for the day. I bet it’s hotter there than here.” Lia blew warm air between her hands. “Ask him if he’ll get you a jet. We’ll skip work and I’ll go with you, see if I can’t find a nice Brazilian man to appreciate me for at least twenty-four hours.”

Pixie laughed as her phone vibrated. She stepped away from Lia and checked the message. Holy guacamole. The photograph was taken from his shoulder down his body revealing all his abs. A white sheet was strategically placed across his . . . well . . . and his hand was under the sheet in a way that suggested he was holding his . . . jeez.

Spring in Brazil. I’ll be warm when I come. Next time . . . less clothes!

She blushed bright red, embarrassed to admit the photo turned her on as much as his overtly sexual behavior shocked her. Being logical and practical, she’d never share those sorts of photos. That’s how revenge porn got started. But part of her wanted to try, perhaps be a little . . . sexier . . . than she was right now.

She took a deep breath. Wish I was there to watch.

There was a pause and her phone vibrated again. You can watch from there if you want. Change to video :-)

Lia studied her curiously, and there was no way in hell she was standing on a Miami street corner watching the hottest man alive jerk himself off for her. Because that would be . . . hot, delicious, sexy . . . wrong.

Pixie typed a quick response. My head says no, but the rest of me . . .

There was a short delay of response. MY head says yes ;-) But the rest of me gets it. Miss you, Snowflake xxx

Miss you too <3

Pixie had travel envy. Not only would she love to visit Rio to check out Ipanema Beach and the giant art deco statue of Christ the Redeemer, but she wanted to be there because Dred was. The idea of exploring both the man and the sights of Brazil were equally compelling.

“I’ll see you in there,” she said to Lia. “I’m going to get some cash.” It wasn’t lying. It just wouldn’t occur to Lia that she was actually withdrawing so much.

Pixie hated having large sums of money on her ever since she’d been mugged upon arrival in Miami, but if she’d waited until after they’d shopped, Lia would come in with her, and there was every chance that she’d hear how much money she was withdrawing. Which would lead to questions. And that was bad. Bad that she still hadn’t figured out a way to resolve things.

Of course she had options, the problem was they all sucked. Call Arnie’s bluff and say no, which could lead to him going to the police. Find a lawyer, go to the police herself, and confess. Tell Cujo and Trent, and ask them to help her, talk to him even. Continue to give him money. A headache developed in her temples. Perhaps she’d start with telling Trent and Cujo that her stepdad was coming around again.

She entered the bank and joined the line of a teller she didn’t know very well—less questions that way. As she took her place at the front of the line, Cedro, her favorite teller arrived and switched places with the cashier.

“Hello, Miss. Pixie. You are looking delicious today. How may I be of assistance?” He fiddled with the brooch attached to his work shirt, revealing bright yellow nail polish.

“I need to withdraw . . .” She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t withdraw the money from Cedro. She’d come back. “I need fifty dollars, please.”

“You could have got that from the machine,” he said with a bright smile, taking her card.

Pixie thought quickly. “I know, but then I wouldn’t have seen your cheery face. When is that delicious boyfriend of yours coming back into the studio for some more ink?”

Cedro laughed. “I think he has enough already.”

They walked through the transaction and Cedro withdrew the cash from his tray. “How is the business planning coming along?” he asked.

The question hurt worse than a spear through her heart. “Starting to pull things together,” she answered vaguely.

Cedro counted the cash onto the counter. “I’m so excited for you, Pixie. Good luck.”

Pixie tucked the cash in her purse, and left the bank. Once outside she unzipped her coat and sat down on the bench on the sidewalk. She no longer felt like going shopping. She felt like crying. What was the end game of all this? Arnie wasn’t going to stop until he had everything he wanted, and hellishly, that seemed to include her. She’d rather go to prison than allow that to happen. She’d given him five hundred and fifty, and he came back for a thousand. If she gave him the thousand, he’d come back for more.

Even if she told Trent and Cujo, there was nothing they could do to resolve the situation. It would crush them to know they harbored someone capable of killing a person, even if it was self-defense, and it would kill her to see that look on their face. She knew they’d stand by her, but their relationship would be changed forever, and she couldn’t forgive herself if the news became public and ruined the reputation of Second Circle. They’d ploughed everything they had into growing the business. Would Trent lose his host job on Inked as part of the fallout?