Tall, Tatted and Tempting

So, it’s coat, shelter, and back to the subway for me tomorrow.

 

Someone calls my name as I walk up the steps of the tunnel and I turn to find Bone standing by the lamppost. “How’s it going, Kit?” he asks. His eyes rake down my body, and my insides revolt.

 

“Fine,” I say quickly. “Did you need something?”

 

He shakes his head, biting his lips together. “You have somewhere to stay tonight?” he asks.

 

He asks me this every time he sees me, like he’s going to catch me at a vulnerable moment and I’ll take him up on whatever he’s offering. I don’t even know what he’s offering, but I know it won’t do me any good. “I do, but thanks for asking.”

 

“Any time, Kit,” he says. He turns and walks away, his arm around some girl’s shoulders. She looks strung out. And I’d be willing to bet that’s how he likes them.

 

I walk through the city, wandering toward the shelter. I know it’s right around the corner from where Logan works. I can’t help but walk by there. The lights are on inside and there are still people walking around. I slow down, hoping I can get a look at him. I just want to see him. I know he probably hates me. But I want to see that he’s walking around, breathing and maybe even laughing.

 

The neon sign over the building says Reed’s. Makes me wonder if that’s their last name. Paul walks to the door and lifts a hand at me without opening it. He tilts his head and looks at me. A bit too closely. He pushes the door open and speaks through the crack. “Are you coming in?”

 

I shake my head. “I shouldn’t.”

 

He nods. “You shouldn’t. But you are.” He motions me forward. “He’s in the back.”

 

It’s like my feet have a mind of their own. I walk toward the back of the store, and the girl at the front desk shoots me a heated glance. I ignore her. There’s a curtain in the back of the shop, and I’m guessing that’s where he is. I push it slowly to the side. He can’t hear me and he’s facing away. But there’s a woman on the table who’s naked from the waist up. He’s standing in front of her with his arm wrapped around her; his hand is busy around her right breast.

 

“Shit,” I say. I feel like someone has just punched me in the gut. The lady on the table startles and Logan looks up. I have no choice but to leave. I’ve done nothing but think about this man all day long, and he’s with one of his skanks. I knew he had them. But seeing his hands on one of them is worse. I have no right to claim him. I didn’t even plan to come and find him. Paul insisted. Did Paul know what I would walk into?

 

Paul steps into my path as I run toward the door. “Kit,” he says, blocking me from leaving with his body in front of me.

 

I put up my hands to ward him off. I can’t take a deep breath, much less stop to talk to him. Before I can get to the front door, Logan runs from the back of the shop to the front, chasing after me. I can hear his feet on the laminate floor.

 

Logan reaches for me, taking my elbow in a tight but gentle grip.

 

Tears are stinging the backs of my lashes. I don’t know why they are. But they are. And I don’t want him to see. He holds up a finger telling me to wait. I can’t wait. If I wait, he’ll see me break down.

 

He takes my hand in a firm grip and starts to tow me toward the back of the store. He pushes the curtain to the side, and I see that the woman is still sitting exactly like he left her. Only now she’s holding a thin piece of paper over her breasts. “Hi,” she says. He points toward a chair and indicates that he wants me to sit.

 

I shake my head. “No.”

 

He points toward the chair again. I drop into it because I feel like my legs won’t hold me up anymore and that’s the only reason.

 

He turns back to the woman and urges the paper down. He’s tattooing her nipple. I look away. “It’s all right,” the woman says. “He did beautiful work. I don’t mind if you see it.”

 

He’s doing a tattoo. Of course he is. All the breath rushes from my body in a huge exhale. He’s doing a tattoo. I look over his shoulder as he’s finishing up. He’s not just tattooing her nipple. The tattoo is her nipple. What the hell?

 

“Double mastectomy,” she explains. “Logan does free tattoos for mastectomy patients.” She arches her back, pressing her breasts out. “What do you think?”