I flicked at the wedding invitation and put it away. I barely slept last night, wondering if I could pull it off. Shit, I could pull anything off I wanted to, but to drag Bella into it was probably just stupid. She didn’t need to be around here anymore. I went to the kitchen and made some coffee. Then, before Bella came out, I hurried to give Gonzo a call. He didn’t answer, so I left a message for him to call me back.

Bella needed to get her car back and get back on the road. Wherever she was going wasn’t my business. Just like the wedding invitation I kept hiding—that wasn’t her business.

I put my hands to the counter and stretched my arms and shoulders. My focus should have been the tattoo I needed to work on this morning but that was the last thing swirling through my mind.

“Morning,” I heard a voice say so softly.

I turned, and there was Bella.

Damn, there was just something about the way she looked right then. She had these oversized PJ bottoms on. All black. And her shirt was super tight on her body, working along curves that appeared to be deadly. Showing just the slightest hint of skin between where the shirt ended and the pants began. She had messy bedhead and acted like she didn’t care about it at all. The thin straps of her shirt rested against her shoulder. Her chest filled out the top of the shirt and then some.

It was enough of a sight that it chased away everything I was thinking about.

I just stared at her.

She was hurt. And someone had hurt her. None of it was my business, but I couldn't help being so intrigued by it all.

“Coffee’s on,” I said. “Breakfast is usually on the go here. Didn’t know I was going to have company.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m the one imposing. Did you hear anything about my car?”

“No. I just called Gonzo though.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I gritted my teeth. I looked to my right. Then I pointed. “Those keys there, darlin’. Those are for my truck. Have at it.”

“What?”

“I have to get to the shop,” I said. “I’m going to be there all day working on this piece. But you’re going to need to eat. Whatever else you want to do. If you have to get back home or something.”

I knew there was a slim-to-no chance she would need the truck. Once Gonzo got my message, he’d hurry and patch up her car and things would be back to normal in no time. Maybe we’d exchange numbers just for the hell of it, and that would be it.

“I have nowhere to go,” Bella said.

The coffeemaker gave out its final few spits and beeped.

“Coffee?”

“Please,” she said.

I got two mugs and thought about the last time I had to get out two mugs in the morning. My usual night activity came with no strings attached and rarely endured a morning talk and coffee.

Pouring the two coffees really started to piss me off. I got to thinking about what could have been. Of what should have been. Of how I let myself down over and over.

I turned and Bella leaned against the corner of the counter. She was like a beautiful dream the way she stood there. Folding her arms across her chest, half-yawning, completely unsure of what was happening.

I got cream and sugar and watched as she made her coffee. I memorized it—three sugars, a little bit of cream. I shut my eyes.

Why the fuck would I memorize it?

I drank my coffee black and grabbed my bag to make sure I had everything I needed.

“What are you working on today?” Bella asked.

“A tattoo,” I said.

“Funny. You know what I mean.”

“Woman wants a house tattooed on her.”

“A house?”

I threw my bag to the table. I opened it and grabbed one of my notebooks.

“This is an early sketch I did,” I said. “The one I’m putting on her is at the shop. It’s got more detail and it’s much cleaner than this one.”

I spun the notebook around and slid it across the table.

Bella leaned forward to look. I moved my eyes off her, but only for a second. I’m a guy, okay? She was in my apartment. I couldn’t help myself but stare. I stared for good reasons and I stared for bad reasons.

“This is really awesome, Zayne,” she said. She looked at me, smiling. “I mean it. What’s the story behind the house?”

“She used to live there,” I said. “Now it’s getting knocked down.”

“Wow. I never thought of it like this…like capturing that memory.”

“What do you mean?”

Bella shrugged her shoulders. “I just always thought of tattoos as cool colors and stuff.”

I nodded. “It’s a hell of a lot more than that, darlin’. If you want to experience what that means, stop by the shop for a day. Every line, color, all of it has a purpose. Whether it’s to tell a story or to cover up a mark or a scar.”

“That’s amazing,” she said. “You really have a gift.”

“Yeah,” I said. I took the notebook back and slid it into the bag. “A gift.”

I drank the rest of my coffee and then threw the bag over my shoulder.

“Hey, Zayne,” Bella said when I put my hand to the door.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Thanks for letting me stay here.”

“Like I had a choice,” I said with a wink.

“I…” She bit her lip and looked down at her coffee. Then she looked at me. “I’m lost. Okay?”

“Lost?”

“Lost. Confused. Hurt. Insert whatever word you want.”

“Right,” I said. I took my hand off the doorknob.

“No,” she said. “I don’t want you to be late.”

“I’m not going to be late, Bella,” I said. “I’m leaving too early as it is. I was going to grab a sandwich and sit to avoid being here.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter why.”

This was her chance to talk for a second. To open those floodgates that were cracking already.

Bella sipped her coffee and hugged the mug with both hands like a comfort blanket.

“I think I was lost before, too. I just didn’t realize it. Working at the diner. Feeling half dead most of the time.”

“So, running away fixed all that?” I asked.

“Not even close, Zayne. I have a boyfriend.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well, I had a boyfriend. Things aren’t exactly officially done, but to me they are.”

“What happened?”

“Just a messed-up situation. I thought things were more serious than they were.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“Time. Implying things together. The usual.”

“The usual, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re with someone long enough that you just kind of imply everything. What you’re going to do. When you’re going to do it. Then it doesn’t work out.”

“So that’s what happened? It just didn’t work out?”

“Something like that.”

“To the point that you had to leave?”

“I chose to leave,” she said. “I just wanted something else, Zayne. It feels like I can’t breathe sometimes. So, I thought I could get into my car and escape it all.”

“Then your car breaks down.”

“Is that a sign?”

“Fuck no,” I said with a grin. “Well, it’s a sign you need a new car.”

She laughed. She looked even prettier when she smiled. “Thanks for that.”

“Hey, what really happened, though?” I asked. “I mean, you two just call it quits? Or…”

“It just came time to walk away,” she said. “Sometimes, things aren’t what you think.”

I nodded. I swallowed hard. “Yeah. I get that.”

“Hey,” she said. “You said you were just hanging here for a little while, then going to Miami. Why?”

“Why not?”

“But why leave here? You have a place. You have a job. You’re good at what you do.”

“I want my own thing.”

“You can’t have that here?”

“St. Skin is everything here,” I said.

“Right,” she said. “Well, I hope whatever you want, you get it.”

“Same to you, Bella,” I said. “If you need anything…” I took out my phone and asked for her number. I then sent her a text.

Just like that, we had each other’s numbers.

“Zayne,” Bella said as I reached for the door again.

This time, I didn’t turn around. I just stood there.

“It was nasty,” she said. “What happened. It was really bad. I’m not exactly sure I wanted to leave. But I had to leave. You know?”

My interest was sparked once again.

This time I dropped my bags and walked right to Bella. I didn’t have any more time to waste. And some thoughts and images were swirling around in my mind.

I put a hand to her wrist and forced her to put the coffee mug down on the counter.

“You said it was nasty. It was bad. What the hell does that mean?”

“It just…was,” she whispered.

I looked down at her. I didn’t want to scare her or intimidate her. But I needed to know…

“Did he hurt you?”

“Yes,” she confessed.

“Bella, did he touch you? I mean, did he hurt you that way? He…”

“Hit me?” she asked.

I nodded.

“No,” she said. “No, Zayne, not like that.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I swear.”

“Okay.”

I backed away, but not before I reached for her chin. My thumb stroked it. I had no fucking idea why I did that.

I walked away and grabbed my bags again.

“Zayne, if he…I mean, what would you have done?”

I opened the door. Nothing was going to keep me back again. I looked back at Bella one last time.

And I told her the truth.

“If he hit you, I would find him and break his fucking hands.”

* * *

I had everything set up and ready to go. I shook away the morning and everything that had happened earlier. I forgot all about the beautiful woman in my apartment. I focused on the tattoo. I eyed the sketch. I thought about my concept. I chose my colors.

Hannah showed up ten minutes before nine and was nervous as hell. This was her first tattoo. It was a pretty big project to tackle as your first tattoo, but once I started, there was no turning back.

I jokingly told her that as I got her settled to the chair. She had to face forward, straddling the chair. I told her we could play any music she’d like since we were the only two people in the tattoo shop. She was fine with my music. She brought a picture of the house with her and held it between her hands and stared.

I ended up turning down my music because I needed to know more.

“What’s the story here?” I asked. “Besides what it means.”

“Innocence,” she whispered.

I buzzed the needle a few times and told her to take a breath.

Then I went to work.

The first few times I touched her, I did it gently and gave her a chance to get used to the feeling. Your first tattoo was always the craziest. You never knew what to expect. Your body and mind would build things up more than they needed to do. Then that first wave hit with the shock of the pain and the ink.

“You good?” I asked her.

“Perfect,” she whispered.

So, I went to work for real.

I started with the outline.

“Tell me about the house,” I said.

“It’s where my life was perfect,” she said. “Before I lost myself to a dark world. The house was the only place I felt safe.”

“From what?” I asked.

She moved her left arm, and I saw some marks right at the bend of her arm. At her veins. They were scars. Scars from a dark time in her life.

“Shit,” I whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

“The house was my comfort for a long time. Kept me away from it all. Then my grandparents died. Within a few months of each other.” Hannah looked back at me. “That’s when I slipped again. This time…”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You’ll have this memory for the rest of your life. What it means. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

Hannah looked forward again.

I kept my focus and got the outline done. When I stopped I stretched my back and then stood up. I peeled the silver rubber gloves off my hands and threw them out.

“Why don’t we take a five-minute break?” I asked. “You get up and walk a little. Then we’ll get right into coloring. If at any time you want to be done for good, let me know. We can schedule you again later.”

“Thanks,” she said.

I glanced at my phone and saw that Gonzo had called me back.

“I’m going to make a quick call,” I said. “Make yourself at home. There’s a fridge in the back. Grab a drink or something to eat.”

“I’m good,” she said.

I left the room and went out back. The sun blasted my face, and I felt like I was a vampire and that I was going to burst into flames.

I called Gonzo back.

“Zayne,” he said.

“Gonzo.”

“You called me first,” he said. “What’s up?”

“The car.”

“Yeah. What about?”

“Still an easy fix?”

“Well, nothing else happened to it overnight,” Gonzo said. “You know I don’t like doing this.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why I called to tell you…”

My voice stopped.

I thought about everything again.

The sight of her in my kitchen. Messy hair. What she was wearing. The way she held the coffee mug. The way she looked at me. Her story made sense but not complete sense. There was more to Bella. And where the hell was she going to go?

“Zayne? You there, man?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“You called to tell me what?” Gonzo asked.

“Uh…I need you to forget about the car again.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“Not sure.”

“What are you up to over there, Zayne?” Gonzo asked.

I rubbed my chin. And I told the truth. “I’m not sure yet.”