“Why is your left arm covered in images of ocean life?”
Irish arched his brow in a way that told her he recognized the blatant subject change. Luckily, he was nice enough to go along with it. “My uncle lived in the Florida Keys and ran a scuba diving business. He’d send my mom these gorgeous pictures of the things he saw while diving.” He studied his tattoos as though reliving seeing the pictures for the first time. “And, I don’t know. I guess only ever seeing my neighborhood growing up, I was intrigued by the idea that something like that existed. It wasn’t just another place, but a whole other world.”
Kat understood what he meant. She’d felt something similar. Only, instead of wishing to see dolphins and sea turtles, she’d wished to know what it was like to have loving parents. But that wasn’t something you permanently inked in your skin.
“So,” she said, “the tattoos remind you of the daydreams you had as a boy of experiencing that life for yourself. Of the fascination you had with a world other than the one you knew.”
He half grinned before turning his attention back to his bike. “You make it sound kinda girlie, but I guess that’s about right.”
The sentimentality hung over them like a heavy blanket, making it hard for her to breathe. She needed another subject change. Preferably one a little lighter in nature.
“You know, I thought about what you said earlier. You’re right. Moving to Mexico is a horrible idea. I mean, look at me. I’d stick out like a sore thumb. But Scotland, on the other hand, is the perfect place for me to blend in. No one would look twice at me there.”
“What about your boyfriend?” he said with a quick sidelong glance. “Don’t you think you oughta wait till he can go with you?”
She recognized the set-up question because she got it all the time. It was a way for people who didn’t know her well to gauge the circumstances of her relationship with Lenny.
Some of them wanted to know their chances of getting in her pants. Some wanted to know if they could shake her down for information. Some wanted to know how much she meant to him so they could use her for leverage to get what they wanted from him. The question-asker always had an agenda, and her ability to determine which one they had so she could answer appropriately was a necessity for survival.
But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out Irish’s agenda. A voice in her head screamed at her to tell him the truth, if only about this one thing. So she did.
“Lenny’s not really my boyfriend.”
That got his full attention. “He’s not?”
She shook her head. “Well, he was a long time ago, but not for the last…” She counted back in her head. “Eight years or so.”
“So why do you tell people you’re together?”
Kat shrugged and absently studied her nails. “Easier, I guess. It’s not like I was in the dating pool or anything.”
“I don’t get it. Why would you stick with him for so long, then?”
“Because I was too scared to live on my own, and I had nowhere else to go.” Wow, that sounded a lot less pathetic in my head.
“Nowhere?” he asked skeptically.
It was a loaded question, whether he knew it or not. Technically, she could’ve gone to Nessie—how many times had her sister asked her to come live with her?—but Kat never let herself consider the option. Vanessa had been studying to become a lawyer and then working getting her career off the ground. She didn’t need her broken younger sister dragging her down in the process.
And now that Kat was in serious trouble with a man who made hurting people’s loved ones look like a hobby, she sure as hell wasn’t bringing any of that to Nessie’s door. So that left only one answer to his question.
“Nope. Nowhere,” she said. “But since Lenny went to jail, I’ve learned that I can stand on my own two feet. So that’s exactly what I plan to do. I need to live for me now.”
A couple of minutes passed before he answered, so she started to think she’d said something to upset him. But then he gave her a warm half grin and said, “I think you living for yourself is a great idea. And if you wanna move to Scotland when this is all done, that’s fine. But first we’re going to make sure you’re free and clear of this Sicoli guy, so you don’t have to look over your shoulder. Okay?”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“I’m gonna go talk to the guys we ditched.”
Her brows knitted together as she waited for him to finish. When he didn’t… “I’m sorry, I don’t get it. What’s the punch line?”
“No punch line.”
“Irish, after what we pulled last night, you’ll be as good as dead. Besides, how would you even get to them? We have no idea where they are.”
“Don’t have to. I’ll go to your apartment. They’ll come to me.”
“And then what? Ask them to pretty please tell their boss not to come after me anymore?”
“You don’t think it’ll work?”