I wiped the ink away and turned my head a little. My neck was stiff from a shit night of sleep. My head was worn out from too much thinking. Battling with myself as to whether I should open up to Hazel a little more than I wanted to do. I never got involved this deep. And to think it was with a woman who invaded my privacy, a woman I hadn’t slept with yet. This was like me from an alternate universe.

I shut my eyes, hit the mental reset button, and went back to work.

A little more shading, and the half-sleeve was just about done.

When I sat back and exhaled, I felt the sweat on my forehead. There were times that I got so deep into tattooing, my body went numb until I stopped and realized I had been hunched over for hours, my eyes working so intently, my brain focused, my hand and wrist sore from staying steady and producing a piece of art that would forever remain on skin.

That was my only work for the day so far. My calendar was open, but that only meant that when a walk-in came in, it was going to be thrown at me.

And lately, the walk-ins had been getting more and more. People were willing to wait hours to have one of us ink up their skin. Tate started to pull back on appointments, which pissed me off. I didn’t like to be put on the spot with things. And I didn’t like when people just picked a tattoo for the sake of having a tattoo. It was supposed to have meaning and purpose.

But I couldn’t argue with Tate.

I couldn’t argue with anyone.

I stood at the front of the shop, breathing in the sounds and the sights of the place.

“What the fuck is running through your mind?” Prick asked me as he leaned over the glass counter. He had a big-ass lollipop in his mouth, and his cheek stuck out like a squirrel stocking up for winter.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Bullshit on you.” He pushed off the counter and pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. “What’s going on with Tate lately? Seems like he’s…”

“About to sell us all out?” I asked.

“Bingo,” Prick said. “You know anything?”

“No. Not my job.”

“Well, it’s all our jobs.”

“Prick, you’d do great on TV. People would eat you up.”

“True. I’d end up getting more ass than I could handle.”

“Is that possible?”

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “What about you? You fooling around with the camera lady yet?”

“No,” I said. “Nothing’s-”

“I call bullshit,” Prick said.

“Fine. You want the truth? I was raised by my great Aunt Ada. Seriously. She was way too damn old to take a punk like me under her wing. But she did. She tried hard and messed up on a lot of things. She’s still alive. But she’s not all that great anymore. She refuses to sell her house and won’t get help. I talked to her last night for a little bit, and I just…I just have this sense of goodbyes. Feel like talking some more?”

“Nope,” Prick said. He slapped me on the back.

“Thanks, asshole.”

He spun around and put his back to the window. He jammed the lollipop back into his mouth and folded his arms. He sucked on the damn thing like a fool, then popped it back out.

I told myself mentally that if he did that one more time I was going to take the lollipop and beat him over the head with it.

“Seriously though, I didn’t know about your great aunt.”

“I don’t talk about her.”

“You don’t talk about anything.”

“Do you wanna share feelings, Prick? Get a bottle of wine and some tissues to cry into?”

“Just trying to be a friend,” he said.

“Yeah, right,” I said.

“Well, if this has nothing to do with our beautiful photographer-on-demand, maybe I should show her something she could really remember. Without the camera. Catch my drift, Maddox?”

I balled up fists. I was well aware he was trying to get me to do something.

Lucky for both of us, Tate came out of his office. He looked pissed. And his eyes were glaring right at me.

“What did you do now?” Prick whispered to me.

“Nothing,” I said. “Tate…”

“Well, that’s one thing out of the way.”

“What?” I asked.

“Hazel.”

“What about her?” I asked.

“She’s not going to be taking pictures here anymore,” Tate said.

“Shit,” Prick said. “You canned her?”

“You fired her?” I yelled.

Everyone in the shop looked at me.

Tate showed his teeth like an angry dog. “My office. Now.”

I followed him as though I was in trouble. But I hadn’t done anything. Shit. Unless he found out about me going to her apartment. And that I went back again. And that I kissed her. But fuck that though, that was my business.

“Hey, Tate, listen,” I said. “Whatever is going on, it has nothing to do with me. I can’t see how you can fire her.”

Tate stopped at his desk and turned, sitting on it. “Jesus Christ, man, first thing you need to do is untangle your panties.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t fucking fire her,” Tate said. “Her work is amazing. I wanted to keep her on for way longer. She called today and quit.”

“She quit? Why?”

“Said her camera was broken.”

“Her camera is broken? She can’t quit because of that.”

“No camera, no pictures,” Tate said. “That’s like us running out of ink. Speaking of which…fuck…I need to get these orders together. It’s been hectic.”

“Wait,” I said. “How about you tell me why it’s hectic.”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?” I asked. I felt like I just took a one-two blow to the face from a prized fighter. “So you’re planning something right under our noses.”

“Maddox…”

“And now Hazel quits. Great.”

“What’s it to you?”

I stared at Tate. I guess shit around St. Skin floated like rumors in high school. Either that or it was obvious there was a little tension between myself and Hazel. Either way, she didn’t need to quit.

“I gotta go,” I said.

“You’re on the schedule.”

“We have no schedule,” I said.

“Walk-ins.”

“Watch me walk out,” I said.

“Hey, Maddox. I’ve never seen you get this way over a woman before.”

I stopped for a second and looked back at Tate. “You don’t get it, Tate. And that’s okay. But I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“It’s just a broken camera,” Tate said. “I planned on talking to her and figuring something else out.”

I hurried away and started to run through St. Skin.

It wasn’t just a broken fucking camera.

It was Hazel. She was broken too.

And what was more, I wanted to know how the camera got broken…and how she did, too.

* * *

I didn’t know what exactly I was walking into, but I was never afraid of fire as a kid, so why would I be afraid now? See, growing up with only yourself to rely on made it so that when I thought there was a monster under the bed, I couldn’t scream for mom or dad. I had to suck it the hell up and get on the floor with a flashlight and check. Now, that’s not a shot at all against my great aunt Ada either. That woman worked herself to the bone during a time when she should have been retired and relaxing. And she did it so I had something that resembled a life. So, while she was battling real life monsters, I was tackling the imaginary ones in my closet, under my bed, and behind curtains.

I knocked on Hazel’s door and didn’t announce who I was.

The door opened a little like it did before.

I saw one of her green eyes and I felt something jolt through my entire body. Like someone had jammed a cattle prod to my chest. It was so profound and hard I felt my left arm twitch.

What the hell is this woman doing to me?

“Maddox?”

“What’s wrong with your camera?” I asked.

“You came here to ask me that?”

“I came here because I’m not sure this has anything to do with a camera,” I said.

Hazel didn’t reply for a few seconds. “I told you not to come back.”

“And at what point in knowing me have I ever given you the impression that I listen to rules?”

“Maddox, please…”

I gently put my hand to the door. I wasn’t going to be forceful, I had an idea why Hazel was so afraid. But I was going to be persistent. She was going to know she wasn’t alone.

“Sugar, I lost her. Okay?”

“Lost…?”

“The girl in the picture,” I said. I felt my stomach and throat tighten at the exact same time. “I lost her.”

“She left you?”

“Yeah,” I said. “She left me. There was a situation…things I didn’t know about her. And by the time I found out, it was too late. She was distant, and I didn’t do anything about it. I didn’t know what to do or how to do it. Okay? When I look at you and I feel that same thing, I can’t just walk away. Not a chance, Hazel. Not when there was some guy here threatening you. And now suddenly your camera is broken? You quit St. Skin? Everyone at the shop loves you.”

“And you?” she asked.

“You’re a pain in the ass, sugar, but I don’t want to show up to St. Skin and not see you. It makes me feel a little lost. And I need to know you’re okay. I need to know someone isn’t in that apartment with you.”

“Maddox…”

I swallowed hard. “If you’re with someone because you love them, I can walk away. But if someone is forcing themselves-”

“I’m alone,” she said. She shut the door and opened the chain. The door opened all the way.

There she was.

Hazel with the green eyes.

My heart jolted again.

I stepped forward and grabbed her. My hands slid against her hips with ease, like they were meant to be there. Like we were two puzzle pieces starting to realize all the jagged edges, curves, flaws, they were all meant to connect for a greater picture.

My mind never had those thoughts. Ever.

Whiskey made me fall in love, but that was temporary.

Hazel’s eyes were making me…

“What happened to your camera?” I asked.

“It’s broken. I swear.”

I glanced around the apartment. I noticed something on the wall next to her computer. It was a round spot on the wall. Like a dried water spot. With a few faint colors.

“What happened there?” I asked.

“Jesus, Maddox,” Hazel said. “Are you going to point out everything wrong with my apartment? It’s a water spot. It was here when I moved in. There’s a few cracks in the ceiling. The bathroom sink sometimes leaks, but I know how to fix it. When you flush the toilet you have to hold it for a few seconds. Oh, and the dishwasher sometimes makes this growling sound that I’m told is normal.”

She wiggled out of my grip and backed up.

She was on the defensive.

I nodded. “Right.”

“Look, I said not to come here. So, you tell me something about that picture to get inside my apartment. Because you don’t know what that means to me.”

“What does? A picture of a girl that is part of my past? Why are you so nosy?”

“I’m curious,” she said.

“Why?”

“I just am.”

“That’s not an answer. That’s an excuse.”

“You know what? Get out. It’s my place. Get out.”

“Is that what you said to him?” I threw out, regretting it.

Her eyes went wide.

“Fuck you.”

“Exactly. Maybe I’ll just stand here and wait you out. How’s that, sugar? Break you down. Make it really fucking beautiful.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she growled.

“Make me. Where’s the defiant side? The woman that just takes my picture without care? Huh? Where’s that side of Hazel? Show me.”

Hazel charged at me. Her hands slammed against my chest as she tried to shove me back. Then her right hand flew across my face, hitting my cheek. Then I saw the tears in her eyes. The fear and rage, all of it building up and starting to boil over. Except she didn’t know how to let it boil over the right way.

I touched my cheek.

“Maddox, I’m so sorry,” she said. “Oh my god, what did I do…”

Now she was scared. Scared of me. Scared of my reaction.

I lifted my right hand, but never to hurt her. My right hand wanted to gently touch the back of her neck, pull her close, and kiss her. Show her that I was there for good reason.

Instead, I slapped myself.

Right across the face.

Hazel gasped. “What are you doing?”

I slapped myself a second time.

She just stared at me.

Honestly, I had no idea why I slapped myself. Maybe to show her that I could take it. Maybe to show her that I wasn’t there to hurt her, no matter what. Maybe I was slapping myself because of what I said to her earlier. Saying that what I did wasn’t fair to her.

“I’ll leave,” I said, “but I won’t be gone. And it’s not right that you won’t be at St. Skin.”

I turned and walked to the door.

Hazel called my name. It was like an arrow to the chest, the way her voice crackled.

“Hazel…”

“Who was she to you?” she asked. “You said you lost her. But who was she?”

I looked back. “Someone I couldn’t save. And I’ve never forgiven myself for that. I don’t want that same feeling with you. And by the way, there’s a piece of glass on the floor. Probably from that water spot that you claim has been there since you moved in. I’d hate for you to step on it and cut yourself.”

I knew she was lying. That water spot was fresh. Someone was in the apartment and someone threw something at the wall. And chances were that someone and something led to Hazel quitting St. Skin.

I opened the door and paused again.

It dawned on me then that we were on the second floor of the apartment building.

That made me angry.

I didn’t want Hazel to jump…just like someone else had years ago.