“I figured that out.” She reached over, grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, the volume not exactly at a level conducive to talking.
“And he doesn't think they’re a love match with his man in charge of spreading fucking despair!” he said over the blaring television.
She replied by turning the volume up.
Where was all this coming from? What happened to the agreeable girl that had walked into his shop? Or the angry one outside yesterday? And what the hell did she want from him? She was the one with the shady past. She’d come to him, not the other way around. He’d taken her in and was offering her protection but he couldn’t pretend it was natural to trust her.
“What am I supposed to do? Roll out the red carpet so you can stab me in the back while I sleep?” he asked, forced to scream now.
One look at her face told him those were the wrong words. Now, she was very definitely pissed but not like she had been yesterday. She looked like she didn’t even want to bother waiting for him to sleep. Like she wanted to cross the distance and stab him right where he stood.
“That’s what you think of me?” she said, her voice so low normal human hearing wouldn’t have been able to make out the words under the noise coming from the TV speakers.
Lars walked over and muted the TV, and threw the remote on the couch. “What am I supposed to think, when you’re supposedly this guy’s soul mate? No, I'm sorry, ‘the one for him,’ that was what you were called.” What a ridiculous thing to say someone anyway. What? Were they all stuck in high school, where there was only one person for everyone? He wanted to find Keith and punch in him the mouth for even uttering something as juvenile as that.
She grabbed her coffee mug and walked into the kitchen, placing it in the sink with a splash. Without a word, she grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom, the door shutting loudly but just shy of slamming.
He stared at the bathroom door. Why had he thought that pissing her off would be fun? This didn’t feel anything like yesterday had. He left the apartment and there was no question about his door slamming.
Chapter 17
Faith looked around the shop, anywhere but at where Lars was bent over a client, tattooing away. This was the last place she felt like being after this morning but she wasn’t going to run out of here either, or call Cutty like she needed to hide behind him. She’d make the situation work, no matter how much of a dick Lars could be.
In truth, she knew she was lucky she had somewhere to go. The unfortunate part was she had to keep reminding herself of that so she didn’t try and rip that tattoo gun out of Lars’ hand and write the word “dick” across his forehead. She could still be living in the woods.
And then there was Keith. He was as crazy as they came and lurking out there, waiting. After yesterday, it was clear he was having the place watched. If things weren’t so crazy in the world right now, she’d take her chances out there. But they were.
As if someone was trying to send her a reminder, she saw a group of thug looking characters walking down the street. Somehow, like always, the craziest of them seemed to have some urge to cross to the other side of the street when they neared the area of the tattoo shop, repelled by whatever magic Lars had around his place.
She stepped away from the window, giving up the thought of going out there until the group was out of sight. She moved about the shop, trying to straighten up and organize like she had for the last few days because she didn’t know what else to do with herself. She was careful to keep the ten-foot buffer, which she’d been maintaining all day, between her and Lars. He’d tried to get closer but she’d thwarted him every time. It didn’t help that other than the clients who came in and out, it was just the two of them in the shop together all day.
She felt his attention land on her again, as it had often done this morning. She’d glance over to find he was indeed looking at her. Her own gaze barely acknowledged him, refusing to meet his eyes. She’d stay there, for now, but damn if she could muster up the pretense of being happy about it.
She was standing on a chair cleaning one of the large front windows an hour later. Lars’ client had left a good twenty minutes ago, and he’d disappeared into the office for a while.
“Hungry?” he asked, startling her from where he was standing behind her. His hand went to her waist to steady her but then dropped. He was only a foot away. She’d lost her buffer. The chair she was standing on had arms, so she had to either leap over one as she jumped down or ask him to move.
She looked down, debating her options while he remained standing there. “Well? Are you hungry?”
He wasn’t supplying her with nourishment, he was offering up a truce. Her stomach was on the verge of growling but then his words from this morning, “What am I supposed to do? Roll out the red carpet so you can stab me in the back while I sleep?” rattled in her mind, and overruled the yes she’d almost spoken. “No.” She turned back to the window. This was going to be the cleanest window in all of the Carolinas if he wanted to wait her out.
“You know, you were much more agreeable when you first showed up,” he said, as if baffled at her change in demeanor. He was right, she had been. But she could only paste on a fake smile through so many insults before it wore off.
“I was much more desperate when I first got here.” She rubbed over the same spot again.
“And you aren’t now?”
She turned and looked at him, letting her face and eyes do all the talking before she gave him her back again.
“I didn’t mean that to be insulting. I just don’t understand what changed,” he said.
She was glad she wasn’t looking at him because the confusion, bordering on frustration, she heard in his voice made her want to laugh. He really didn’t understand how much he’d insulted her. This guy really had never been human, and it was showing.
She let out a sigh and took pity on him, at least for this one thing. She turned back toward him. “What’s changed is what I can live with.”
“I don’t get it.” He was shaking his head.
“Lars, what I’m saying is I have my pride, too.”
She could see she’d finally hit on something he understood and then went back to washing the window, considering the matter closed.
“You still haven’t eaten.”
“Thank you but I’m not hungry.”
She was startled when an arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the chair she was standing on.
“What are you doing?” she said just as a client stuck his head in the door.
“Get out,” Lars barked.
“But I’ve got an appointment.”
“I said get out. Why do you stupid people always have to hear everything twice?” With his arm still wrapped around her waist, he walked them both to the door where the person quickly retreated. He clicked the deadbolt in place.
“Put me down right now, Lars.”
He didn’t answer but walked them to the office in back where a lunch was spread out on the desk and an additional chair had been pulled up.
He released her in front of the good chair, his chair, with the really nice padding, located behind the desk. He sat in the one in front of the door, which conveniently blocked it.
“What is this?” She looked down and saw all the containers spread out on the desk. There was Caesar salad, penne vodka, grilled chicken and several other round foil containers filled to the brim.
“Food?” he said. “Even angry people get hungry.” And then he smiled. “It smells good.” He nodded, teasing her as she tried to keep the sour look on her face.
“Where did this come from?”
“Guy that just left. He’s a caterer, or was.”
“There’s a lot of food here.”
“Well, you looked so pissed all day I figured it had to be because you were just that hungry.”
She slumped into the chair, realizing her capitulation was getting close. Why did the food have to smell so good and why did
he have to keep smiling at her like that? He was a dick. Dicks didn’t smile.
“So, tell me about why you opened an art gallery?” he said, as he filled the plate in front of her with some eggplant and shook out a napkin for her lap.
“You want to hear about my gallery?” she asked, surprised by the question as she eyed up the fork he’d placed beside her plate, the smells chipping away at her annoyance.
“It’s small talk. That’s what humans normally do.”
“Oh.” She guessed that made sense enough. It was stupid to think he cared. It’s not as if he’d asked her anything, besides stuff about Malokin or Keith, since she’d been here.
“And I guess I’m just curious.”
She looked at him, startled by that admission. He wanted to get to know her, and after watching the way he handled most people that came in, she didn’t think he normally showed an interest in any of them. Come to think of it, she’d never heard him making small talk with anyone.
She picked up the fork and felt herself softening a bit. “I guess I wanted to feel like I was contributing in some way to making the world a more beautiful place.” She took a bite and then found herself lobbing a question back at him. “How did you get involved with tattooing?”
“It was a cover, at first, after I left the agency. Then I realized I enjoyed it.”
She thought about the pieces she’d seen him do since she’d been there. “You’re good at your job.”
He looked up from his plate of chicken and smiled. “So are you.”
She shook her head, knowing a false compliment. “How could you know? I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Making the world more beautiful?” He tilted his head and his gaze softened. “Sure you are.”
Her eyes dropped to her plate as her insides lit up like it was a grand fireworks show.
Later on that day she’d barely recall what they’d talked about after that. The only thing that kept going through her mind was that Lars thought she was beautiful.
Chapter 18
The tension of the previous day was completely gone by the next morning. Something had changed between Faith and Lars at lunch yesterday, as if they were friends now. That evening, he’d pulled out a collection of DVDs and they’d eaten popcorn on the couch while they’d watched movies. She’d fallen asleep in his bed later on, and Lars had slept on the couch like always.
As pleasant as the day had been, she’d had trouble sleeping that evening. She’d found herself waking in the night and looking over to where Lars slept. A couple of times he’d already been looking her way, before one of them would break eye contact and pretend to go back to sleep.
Even breakfast this morning had seemed different; easier, somehow. They walked down to the shop with him teasing her about getting her a bat. He said he needed her to look scarier if she wanted to have any chance of kicking the unwanted humans out of the shop. She’d replied that he was scary enough for the both of them.
She’d worked the morning away organizing this and that and straightening up when the phone wasn’t ringing an just trying to be useful in any way she could find.
He’d been working on a bird tattoo on a guy’s bicep when she stepped over to watch him do his thing. She’d never done that before, watched over his shoulder. Somehow she felt like she could today.
He stopped working and looked up at her. She immediately took a step back, thinking she might be crowding him.
He held the gun up to her with a gleam in his eye. “Want to try?”
“Really?” she asked, thinking he had to be kidding.
He nodded.
“On him?” she asked, still disbelieving Lars.
“On me?” the client said.
“Yes. On you,” Lars said to the client, losing the soft quality of his voice when he stopped speaking to her.
The guy started shaking his head. “I don’t want my tattoo to be all—”
“Shut up. It’s not like she can make you any uglier,” Lars said. The client paused for a second and then let out a resigned sigh before he fell silent.
“Pull up a chair,” Lars said, motioning to an extra that sat a few feet away.
She pulled the chair over anxiously. “Lars, I don’t know if I should—”
“Sit,” he said, a bit more forcefully but still not like he’d spoken to the client. She did and he grabbed the bottom of the chair and dragged her right up beside him.
He placed the gun in her hand and showed her how to hold it. “Did you see how I was shading the feathers?”
She nodded, remembering clearly what he’d done.
His finger pointed to a lower spot on the guy’s skin that only had an outline. “Try it here, in this part where I haven’t gotten to yet.”
She leaned in and the client, who’d been eyeing her up nervously, cringed and looked away, afraid to see what she’d do to his skin. She mimicked what Lars had been doing for a few minutes and then leaned back to appraise her work. She’d actually done a fairly good job.
She looked as Lars, who was reclining in his seat and nodding with a pleased look on his face. “I knew you could do it,” he said softly.
The client turned his head, peeking through squinted eyes. He made a hmmm noise, as if he was as surprised as she was. “Not bad.”
“Keep going,” Lars said.
She put the gun down, insisting she’d had enough for the day. She was positive if she remained that close to Lars she would botch the guy’s tattoo just from distraction.
He didn’t argue with her but he stopped smiling when she walked away.
***
That afternoon Lars was on his second client of the day, tattooing an enormous set of angel wings on the back of a girl who lay topless on his bench. His new client couldn’t seem to remember that she didn’t have a shirt on and kept accidentally flashing him as she leaned up. When she flashed him for the fifth time in under an hour he finally snapped at her.
Normally he’d enjoy the show, or at least have a small amount of patience for the interruptions. Today he was too consumed with watching the show Faith was putting on. She was making unusually loud noises as she inched closer and closer to his office. She paused, half in and half out of the door. He raised his eyebrows in a silent and? It wasn’t like she’d never gone in his office before.
He heard some loud clanking, as if she were trying to alert him to her shuffling through the things inside his office, as if he hadn’t just seen her go in. Then he heard her raised voice. “Wow, look at all this unorganized paperwork. I wonder why no one has taken care of it?”
He’d known she’d been distracted during lunch today. Now he knew why. She’d been eyeing up his chaotic piles of bills and invoices in between bites.
His normal accountant, a human who had accidentally rented space in the building the agency used, had left recently due to the uprisings and violence. He’d mysteriously won a trip for him and his family. The only real mystery was why Fate had taken such a liking to a human that he’d made the arrangements.
“I wonder if it’s because I don’t have an accountant anymore?” he asked, loud enough that she wouldn’t doubt he was speaking to her.
He heard more shuffling around before she walked out, her arms filled to the brim with books and papers. Again, being very obvious about her actions, her gathered booty was clearly displayed as she walked unnecessarily close to him while making an arc toward the front counter. As she passed by him, he did a subtle shrug.
She seemed very pleased with herself as she plunked down the armful of stuff on the counter. She looked so satisfied in fact that he had to hold back the laughter. She was welcome to them, but she wouldn’t look so happy shortly.
It only took about fifteen minutes for her to start shaking her head grumbling under her breath. Lucky for him, he could hear the words she was saying, idiot and moron being among the nicer ones. A few minutes after that, she started looking at him, still shaking her head. He raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t
understand what baffled her.
When she started making sounds like she was in psychical pain, Lars had to stop tattooing because he couldn’t hold back the laughter.
“Get up. We’re done for the day,” Lars told his client, who blatantly flashed her bare chest at him again. He’d already seen it plenty. He wasn’t quite sure what she thought this last peep was going to do.
“Really? We’re done?” Her voice was thick with disappointment. She held her shirt to her front as she rose, covering the barest amount she could without being completely indecent. She stared up at him with large, soft brown eyes and a full pout. This was his cue when he’d normally bring her in his office, or upstairs if he was in the mood for a bed, and bang her.
His dick didn’t even twitch.
“Isn’t that what I just said?” He grabbed her purse for her and shoved it into her hand, trying to encourage a bit more expedience on her departure.
“But don’t you need to put something on my tattoo? Wrap it or something?” she asked.
“You people are ridiculous. ‘I want ointment. I want my tattoo wrapped,’” he said in a whiny voice. “Nobody gets babied here. Now get out.”
His client, in full simpering mode, slowly put her shirt on and made her way to the door as he walked over to Faith.
His full attention now on Faith, he watched as she flipped through his ledgers at an alarming rate, grumbling to herself as she went.
“Everything okay?” he asked, knowing the mess she was staring at.
She turned to him and opened her mouth but said nothing; she just kept shaking her head.
“You don’t look so good. Maybe you should lie down?” he asked with mock concern.
She started stabbing the open book with her finger. “How?”
“How what?” God, she was so cute, all riled up like this.
“How are you keeping your lights on?”
She had her hands on her hips, which were wrapped up nice and snug in dark denim. They were rounded and dipped in just the right amount towards her waist. He’d always liked short skirts and heels but it didn’t seem to matter what she wore. It was like she’d been built to his exact specifications.
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