Maddox left his door open. I was in the business of taking pictures, not listening to stories. But I wanted to understand everything. It all intrigued me so much. I had one measly tattoo on me, and that came with a really dark story.

I took a handful more pictures and stood at Maddox’s open door, listening to the buzz of the needle, knowing he was tattooing a woman. There was a brief second where I felt my nerves stinging with jealousy. His hands all over that woman. Touching. Tattooing. Talking. Wanting to be near her, with her, sharing his art with her.

I was just annoying to Maddox. Like a fly. But that was my job. Remember, Tate told me to make more enemies than friends.

“I like the idea of the black lines,” the woman’s voice said.

“Me too,” Maddox said. “I’m good with covering things up, but I think you should build on that stuff. I’ve had some really nasty tattoos come through here and worked with them, no problem.”

“Well, these marks aren’t tattoos,” she said. “They were me trying…I don’t know what I was trying. Those days are almost hard to bring back into my mind.”

“It’s cool,” Maddox said. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just here to help. I want you look down at your arm and see strength. See survival. See your path. And fuck anyone that doesn’t get it.”

The woman laughed.

My heart gushed, but it was quickly replaced by that nerve-stinging jealousy again.

Hearing Maddox talk was something. Hearing his honesty.

I looked down at my camera.

Something about the camera scared him.

Was it the exposure? Was it the idea that a picture could last forever? Or maybe that a picture captured the truth, no matter what you did to cover it up.

I heard the buzz of the needle again.

Then I felt a hand slither against the back of my neck, making me shiver.

“Caught you,” a voice whispered.

I began to panic—he’d found me.

* * *

“Whoa, whoa, Jesus, hey!”

My back against the wall, the whole room pulsing. The music swirling together. Voices smashing off the walls, my head, my body. My heart pounding. Really pounding. My knees ready to give out. Every joint in my body feeling rubbery, like I was some kids toy.

My lips quivered.

He stood across from me.

I blinked.

He disappeared.

He was replaced by someone else.

A guy with a pierced lip. Jet-black hair. A clean-cut face with a wicked jawline. Really striking features. A memorable face.

“Shit,” he said. “I’ve scared plenty of women before, but it’s usually once I take my pants off and they see my huge-”

“Prick.”

I turned my head.

Maddox was there now.

“What the hell are you doing?” Maddox growling.

I thought he was yelling at me.

But he was yelling at the other guy. At Prick.

Prick?

That was his name?

“I…”

“Back off, man,” Maddox said.

He peeled black rubber gloves off his hands and threw them behind him. He then grabbed Prick by the arm and pulled him away.

“Easy,” Prick said.

“Let her fucking breathe,” Maddox said. “What did you do to her?”

“I just touched her…”

I touched my neck and let out a sigh.

I saw rage climbing across Maddox’s face. “You grabbed her by the neck?”

“I touched her neck,” Prick said.

I thought Maddox was going to punch Prick.

“It’s okay,” I finally said. “It’s fine. He just touched my neck. That’s all. He scared me.” I forced a smile. “Scared the hell out of me.”

“You don’t do that shit,” Maddox growled.

He put his hand flat to Prick’s chest. Prick put his hands up.

I bit my lip.

I grabbed my camera and took a picture.

Maddox being so big…tall, wide, overpowering. Prick just…submitting to him, showing his hands.

The second I took the picture, Maddox looked back. “Really?”

I shrugged my shoulders.

Maddox shook his head.

Then he moved away. He turned to face me. “Take your party somewhere else. I’m with someone.”

“Maddox,” I said. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say a thing. He didn’t nod. He was stoic.

Then he disappeared back into his room and shut the door this time.

I looked at Prick.

“I would never do anything…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’m jumpy.”

“And I’m Prick,” he said with a wink.

He had game, I guess.

But I wasn’t buying it.

Why?

Because he wasn’t Maddox.

* * *

The tea kettle whistled as I sat with my face too close to the computer screen. I jumped and let out a yelp.

In the small kitchen, I poured a cup of tea. I added some milk. Then I added more sugar than I should have, but that was one of the perks of being an adult. I took my tea back to my cluttered desk in the corner of what should have been a dining room. I had to face it though, any dining I did was either at my desk, the couch, or at some cafe. I had no reason to have a proper dining room even though I had a dining room table with four chairs that I bought at a secondhand store when I moved into the apartment.

I had taken a lot of pictures for one day of work.

My plan was to figure out how to organize them into folders. Ones that were perfect for the business. Ones that had nothing to do with the business. And then a folder for each individual person that worked at St. Skin.

Of course, that meant typing Maddox as I created his folder.

The first picture I took of him. Standing there, flicking the cigarette, looking like a total badass. He looked gritty and dirty, yet in his own way, he was sexy. Like, really sexy. A kind of sexy that never got to me before.

And it wasn’t going to get to me now.

I clicked to the next picture of Maddox.

Him throwing the finger. It was a bold move to give your boss the middle finger.

But that wasn’t the best picture that I had of him.

That was the one next.

Him showing his bare ass.

He’d caught me sneaking in on him, and he’d dropped his pants.

I took a few seconds to study that ass.

A nice ass.

But there was a tattoo on it.

A set of lips.

Bright red lips.

That tattoo did not fit the rest of his personality, and it stuck with me. It was a story I really wanted to hear. How a badass like Maddox ended up with a set of red lips tattooed right on his ass.

I finished organizing the rest of the pictures, finished my tea, and decided to call it a night.

I hit the couch with a blanket.

Totally pathetic.

It had been a weird day, for sure. But the check that came with it was nice.

The work was nice.

I looked to the window and swallowed hard.

Everything looked nice, but was far from it.

I stopped being afraid of the dark a long time ago. If there was one thing about my life that I could take benefit from it was that all the dumb childhood fears were never allowed in my life. Monsters under the bed. The dark. Bad dreams. Clowns. Scary movies. None of that bothered me. Because I grew up where monsters were real, the dark was comfort, bad dreams were reality, clowns were just stupid, and my life was a scary movie.

I clutched my blanket and licked my lips.

I shut my eyes and started to breathe. That was the key. To just breathe. Forget about St. Skin. Forget about Maddox. Forget about what Prick did. That poor guy. He thought he was just being flirty, touching my neck. But he had no idea what a trigger that was for me.

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling like it was going to close up on me.

Reaching for my phone, it was my comfort.

Even though I really had nobody to call.

Life had spun me into a place where being alone was normal.

I forced my head to a pillow.

I kept my phone close.

Right then in that moment I wished Donna was still around.

I hadn’t thought about her in years.

Donna…the one person who tried to save me…